#much I put him through and well. let’s just say that he gets the majority of my seppressing headcanons because of that...sorry hon

[raeynbowboi]

Translating the Teen Titans to Faerun

A long time ago I did a post translating the Gaang from Avatar: the Last Airbender to the world and lore of DnD, making Katara a Cleric of Selune, Toph a blind-fighting Ranger, etc. While that was a good first foray into the idea, I wanted to explore the idea again with my favorite team of heroes: the Teen Titans. I've built all of them before, Raven more than anyone else. But today, we're not building the Teen Titans based on their powers. We're building them based on how they would fit into DnD lore as if they were natives of Faerun, born and raised in the setting. How would this change their backstories, or would it simply change their powers? Let's find out.

With a well-crafted team like the Teen Titans, we want to be sure each character stays true to their general party role, and the group works well together in a campaign. An all monk party isn't going to fare as well as a party with diverse roles and classes. So, while we won't get too hung up on this, it's worth thinking about. Robin is the leader, and specializes in stealth, infiltration, and investigation. Cyborg is the meat shield, gadgeteer, and primary doctor. Starfire is the flying warrior princess with laser powers and super strength. Raven is the scholarly wizard with powerful psionic powers from a dark origin and minimal healing powers. Lastly, Beast Boy is the goofball comedic wildcard shapeshifter. These basic ideas we want to keep in tack as much as possible, while filtering the team through the lore of Faerun.

ROBIN

DICK GRAYSON

Before moving to Jump City, Robin mentored under Batman, a master detective and vigilante crimefighter in the crime-infested major city of Gotham. In some Teen Titans media, the Titans are firmly located in San Francisco, California, but even in the cartoon, Jump City appears to be located in southern California. Gotham has influences of major American cities like Detroit and Chicago. Meanwhile, Superman's Metropolis is more closely based on New York City. There are three major cities in Faerun: Waterdeep, Baldur's Gate, and Neverwinter. Of the three, Waterdeep seems the most like New York City as the biggest city in Faerun. Baldur's Gate started as a smuggler's den, mapping well onto Gotham. And that leaves Neverwinter to map onto Los Angeles/San Francisco. This would mean that Batman is a Baldurian nobleman, and that Robin moved from Baldur's Gate to Neverwinter to pursue his own career as an adventurer.

Robin is an ordinary human in every definition of the word. There's nothing special about his bloodline and his biology was not altered in any way. Robin is a Standard Human.

While Robin did begin his career as a performer in the Flying Grayson Circus Act, he's not really a performer anymore. Robin's true training came from being mentored by Bruce Wayne in Baldur's Gate, learning the tricks and tools of crime-fighting, investigation, martial arts, and stealth. We'll say his background is an Investigator for Insight and Investigation proficiency.

It really is worth pointing out that Robin became a villain twice while trying to chase Slade. When he lost to Kotaro, Robin disappeared to the other side of the world for weeks, possibly even a month or longer with little notice. When he broke his arm chasing Johnny Rancid, the entire team tackled him back into his chair thinking he was going to insist on hunting down Rancid in spite of his broken arm, and they were all surprised he was just grabbing the remote. Robin is textbook Chaotic Good.

CLASS

Battle Master Fighter: Fighters are trained warriors. They're soldiers, guards, knights, and faith militants. Battle Masters are experts in strategy and tactical combat. Their maneuvers allow them to command their party, crowd control enemies, or gain advantages in a fight. Robin is well-versed with a variety of tools and weapons, and puts tactics at the forefront of his fighting style. Way of Shadow Monk: while Robin is a skilled martial artist trained by the Grand Master and talking animals, monks possess a mystical, not quite magical power. Their ki is beyond human ability. And a major aspect of both Batman and Robin is the complete lack of supernatural powers. Shadow Monk is not a horrible way to build Robin. He is a martial artist who favors stealth and secrecy. But, it's not the most in-character option there is. Inquisitive Rogue: Rogues do not need to be ruthless cutpurses loyal to some lowly den of thieves. They are simply highly specialized experts in the areas of infiltration, stealth, espionage, forgery, and extraction. It just so happens many use these talents for criminal offenses. Inquisitive Rogues are skilled detectives and investigators. They can study an enemy for weaknesses to exploit, gaining advantage even in a 1v1 scenario and dealing extra damage. It's also worth remembering Robin was trained by Batman, a man often called the world's greatest detective.

Looking at Robin's abilities, backstory, and training, I would ultimately declare him to be an Inquisitive Rogue. They excel at sizing up enemies that are bigger and stronger than them, they're designed to be great detectives, and their littany of skills and talents sure sounds like our Boy Wonder. You could reasonably multiclass with Battle Master Fighter for the maneuvers. Or you could go straight Rogue and just take the Martial Adept feat to gain Maneuvers.

STARFIRE KORRIAND'R

Korriand'r is the princess of Tameran, a planet somewhere in the Vega system. Her race are proud warriors with emotion-heightened powers, including superstrength, flight, and starbolts. Tameraneans are similar to Kryptonians, except they aren't weak to Kryptonite, and they get their powers from emotion instead of the Earth's sun.

There are a few Alien species that Starfire could be:

Astral Elf: Space-faring elves that left the Feywild to explore the stars, Astral Elves have starlight in their eyes, and automatically know either Light, Dancing Lights, or Sacred Flame. Astral Elves can also teleport 30 ft as a bonus action a number of times equal to their proficiency bonus. Dragonborn: Contrary to popular belief, Dragonborn are not the result of a dragon and a bard doing the horizontal monster mash. Rather, they are aliens from the planet Abeir that crossed over to Toril during the Spellplague. Once the unpaid servants of Abeir's dragons, they overthrew their masters and made their own culture. They have a strong warrior culture, and value their clansmen and kin above all else, even faith. Dragonborn aren't always religious as the gods could not hear their prayers on Abeir, but Bahamut is a very popular god for worship in Dragonborn society, and other dragon deities do see worship in Dragonborn society. Githyanki: The Githyanki are the psionic warriors of the Gith race. Once the unpaid servants of the Illithid Empire, they freed themselves from servitude. However, in the aftermath, the Gith separated into two factions: the Githzarai and the Githyanki. The Githyanki serve the undying Lich Queen Vlaakith, hunt Mind Flayers, and ride Red Dragons. They also have a very "the strong eat the weak" mentality, and have extremely harsh policies on failture and usefulness.

While the Astral Elf looks the most like Starfire, I'm going with the race that seems the closest to Tameraneans. I'll be making Starfire a Gold Dragonborn. If the setting allows, you could absolutely make her a Crystal Dragonborn for Radiant energy, but not every setting is going to work for gem dragonborns, so I chose to stick to the classic varieties.

As for her background, Starfire is the Princess of Tameran which could make her work as a Noble. She is a highly skilled fighter which could make her a Soldier. She's also an alien from a far-away planet new to this earth and its strange customs, which could make her a Far Traveler. As being a princess is what shocks the Titans the most, it's what defines her more than the other two things. We'll call Starfire a Noble, but we'll swap out her History proficiency for Athletics, and keep her proficiency in Persuasion. She speaks Draconic as a Dragonborn, as well a language of her choice. We'll go with Gith for flavor, as it's another alien language. If you want a more core rulebook language, Deep Speech is the language of Aberrations. If both those languages feel too alien and you want a language she's more likely to encounter in a campaign, then the strong warrior cultures of Goliaths and Orcs could be nice choices for her, having her speak Giant or Orcish respectively. Because Tameraneans learn languages through lip contact, if you wanted to play up this aspect, you could have Starfire take the Linguist Feat once or twice to learn more languages, but this is entirely optional and mostly for flavor and roleplay.

Starfire always follows her heart. Even when told not to do something, she will do it if she believes it is right, which leans more Chaotic. However, Starfire can also usually be expected to keep her word, dislikes fighting unnecessarily, does not like lying, cheating or stealing. She was even willing to marry Glgrdsklechhh if it meant avoiding war, unaware it was a gambit for Blackfire to gain a powerful artifact in exchange for Starfire's hand in marriage. As such, I would say that Starfire is Neutral Good. She will always do whatever she feels is best in the moment. Whatever course of action she believes will do the most good for the most people.

CLASS

Like with her race, there are a few build options each of which translates Starfire to DnD's world and lore in different ways.

Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer: Being a dragonborn, the Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer translates nicely as her race's natural affinity for draconic magic, mirroring how all Tameraneans have starbolts. She gives up her melee warrior aspects to focus on her dragonborn magic, specializing in Fire magic. Light Domain Cleric: Cleric is a surprisingly good choice for what Starfire would be if raised in the world of DnD. Clerics aren't just healers, some join their faith militant, acting as the sword of their god's divine justice. Clerics can cast radiant spells like Guiding Bolt, Sunbeam, and Sunburst, they're decent frontline warriors, and they heal and support their friends. War is a better fit if she wishes to worship Bahamut, but Light lets Starfire make better use of radiant magic, and also gives her a few fire spells as a Cleric as well, letting her keep the heavy light and fire theme. She may worship Tamara, the Draconic Goddess of Light, Mercy, and Forgiveness. Oath of Devotion Paladin: She starts to really lose her Starbolts at this point, but she puts greater emphasis on her warrior spirit, and she still has radiant smites. Whereas the Cleric angle makes Starfire a better support for her friends and Sorcerer puts all the attention on her starbolts, the Paladin focuses on turning Starfire into a heavy-hitting tank that shakes off the hits her friends can't handle. She still gets some healing with her Healing Touch, and a few healing spells. Starfire fits the mold of fighting for beliefs, as her powers manifest through strong convictions such as righteous fury, boundless confidence, and the joy of flight.

While I was tempted to make Starfire a Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer as a good translation of her canon emotion-based powers native to her race, I had to remind myself that we are not just building Starfire. Dragonborn are not Tameraneans. While they have access to draconic magic and blood, draconic sorcery is not a universal thing across their race the way it is with Tameraneans. We are asking what would Starfire be if raised in Faerun? And I don't believe Starfire would be a Sorcerer. However, Cleric and Paladin is a much tighter race. Both gain their powers from convictions and beliefs, which reflects the way Tamaraneans like Starfire draw their power from strong emotions and beliefs. But which one you favor comes down to splitting hairs. Ultimately, I would chalk Starfire up as an Oath of Devotion Paladin. For starters, we are ignoring their canonical powers when picking a class. Paladins are great warriors, and the people of Tameran are a strong and proud warrior race. Dragonborn are not super religious with Dragonborn Clerics being rare, but Paladins are extremely common in Dragonborn society. Finally, their main stats of Strength and Charisma is very fitting and appropriate for Starfire. She is strong and very charming. While I favor Paladin, the divide between Paladins and Clerics is extremely narrow, and being a Light Domain Cleric is not a bad way to build Starfire. She'd have ample access to tons of radiant and fire spells, she'd be able to heal and support her friends, and nothing is stopping her from putting points into Strength as a Cleric and being a decent front-liner. If you want her to draw strength from her convictions, be effective in melee, and be a full spellcaster, then Cleric is an equally great choice. As I said, Paladin only barely squeaks past Cleric in my analysis, and in the first draft, I did originally settle on Cleric. Both work for Starfire, and thus, I'll leave a spell list for both. For her Paladin build, I had Starfire take Magic Initiate: Sorcerer to give her some ranged spell attack options. You could also do a dip into Sorcerer with a Paladin build as opposed to taking the Magic Initiate feat.

PALADIN SPELLS

Bold: Magic Initiate (Sorcerer) Orange: Oath Spells

C Firebolt, Light 1 Burning Hands, Cure Wounds, Protection from Evil & Good, Sanctuary, Searing Smite 2 Branding Smite, Lesser Restoration, Warding Bond, Zone of Truth 3 Blinding Smite, Beacon of Hope, Crusader's Mantle, Daylight, Dispel Magic, Revivify, Spirit Shroud 4 Death Ward, Freedom of Movement, Guardian of Faith, Staggering Smite 5 Banishing Smite, Circle of Power, Commune, Destructive Wave, Flame Strike

CLERIC SPELLS

Orange: Domain Spells

C Guidance, Light, Resistance, Sacred Flame, Spare the Dying, Thaumaturgy 1 Bless, Burning Hands, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Faerie Fire, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith 2 Aid, Flaming Sphere, Lesser Restoration, Prayer of Healing, Scorching Ray, Spiritual Weapon 3 Daylight, Fireball, Mass Healing Word, Remove Curse, Spirit Guardians, Spirit Shroud 4 Aura of Life, Banishment, Guardian of Faith, Wall of Fire 5 Commune, Dawn, Flame Strike, Greater Restoration, Holy Weapon, Scrying, Summon Celestial 6 Heal, Sunbeam 7 Divine Word, Fire Storm 8 Sunburst 9 Mass Heal

CYBORG VICTOR STONE

Victor "Vic" Stone is the son of famous cyberneticist Silas Stone that grew up in Detroit. Once a prolific high school athlete, Victor was horribly injured by an explosion at S.T.A.R. Labs caused by an invasion by Darkseid. With his cybernetics expertise, Silas saved Victor's life by infusing his son with the Mother Box.

Because Cyborg was born human but has since been infused with technology, we'll call Cyborg a Variant Human. Why is he not a Warforged? Becaues he was not built the way Grid was. Cyborg is not a robot, so he is not a warforged. He's also shown several times needing to eat and sleep in order to function, two things Warforged do not require. As a Variant Human, we'll give him +1 Strength and +1 Constitution. And we'll add on the Tough feat to increase his durability. Cyborg is the team meat shield, after all.

In terms of background, Cyborg was a high school athlete before the accident, so we'll call him an Athlete for Athletics and Acrobatics.

When Brother Blood steals Cyborg's blue prints, he becomes determined to stop Blood because it's his plans. His technology. He feels it is his responsibility. He similarly gets upset when any of his technology or gadgets is commandeered by villains. He puts his heart and soul into those inventions, and gets very upset when they're hurt or stolen. Cyborg is a lot more laid back than Robin as a leader, but still cares about getting the job done. I find it hard to really say whether he leans more Lawful or Chaotic. He has principles and sticks to them, but he's also left the team multiple times after a heated argument with Robin. I ultimately land on Neutral Good for Cyborg's alignment.

Now, how does his prosthetics come into it? Well, there's an item in DnD called the Prosthetic Limb, a common wondrous item that can replace lost limbs, doesn't require attunement, can be detached, but not against the user's will. But Cyborg's metal body clearly acts like armor, how do we incorporate this? We travel to Theros. Mythic Odysseys of Theros introduced an item called Molten Bronze Skin that comes in Breastplate, Half Plate, and Plate Armor variants. This item molds itself to the wearer's body, allowing them to easily wear clothes over the armor, and making it impossible for someone else to take off. This item does require attunement, but it accomplishes the same effect of giving Cyborg "built-in" armor, the way a Warforged would have.

CLASS

Artillerist Artificer: Artificers are gadgeteers and magical smiths that can defy logic with their inventions. Both Cyborg and his father are experts in cybernetics, metalworking, coding, and engineering. Cyborg built a car, a submarine, and then turned that submarine into a spaceship. The artillerist can make a tiny cannon they can carry with one hand that can fire a force ballista. Just try to say that's not Cyborg's sonic cannon. Champion Fighter: Cyborg is the tank of the party. It's his job to take the hits others wouldn't survive. In a low-tech fantasy world where Artificers don't belong, this version of Cyborg is a blacksmith who forged his own weapons and armor. The Champion is an athlete who prioritized physical strength over other aspects. When Cyborg isn't using his sonic cannon, he's throwing punches and lifting heavy weights, and he was a high school athlete until his accident. This is also a good multiclass option to get both sides of Cyborg: the tech and the muscle.

At minimum, Cyborg needs at least to be level 3 in Artificer to gain his Eldritch Cannon. After that, he can put as many levels into Artificer or Fighter as he wants. If he manages to become a level 11 Fighter, he'll get to make 3 weapon attacks then fire the Force Ballista as a bonus action, giving Cyborg 4 attacks at level 14. If you choose the Unarmed Fighting Style, Cyborg can wreck shop with his fists, making him an effective pugilist. Thanks to Action Surge, he can attack up to 6 times with just his action, and 7 times once you include his Eldritch Cannon. This makes him a pretty effective damage dealer, and the fighter levels would boost his Hit Points to make him a more effective tank. If you choose to take Artificer to level 9, his Force Ballista increases from 2d8 to 3d8. If you're okay with odd numbered levels and losing out on ASI, then Artificer 9/Fighter 11 could work. But for those who like getting ASI, then Artificer 4/Fighter 16 or Artificer 8/Fighter 12 may be more appealing. Just make sure to max out his Strength, and give him good Constitution and Intelligence, while dumping Dexterity. As an Artificer, we'll add Medicine and Perception to his skill list.

SPELLS

Blue: Artillerist Spells

C Light, Mending, Message, Shocking Grasp 1 Alarm, Cure Wounds, Identify, Shield, Thunderwave 2 Heat Metal, Scorching Ray, Shatter, Vortex Warp, Web 3 Fireball, Glyph of Warding, Haste, Tiny Servant, Wind Wall 4 Fabricate, Ice Storm, Mord's Private Sanctum, Summon Construct, Wall of Fire 5 Animate Objects, Cone of Cold, Creation, Greater Restoration, Wall of Force

This spell list was made for those who build Cyborg as a pure Artillerist Artificer, while those who build him as a Fighter multiclass will obviously have fewer spells.

RAVEN RAVEN ROTH

In her youth, Raven's mother Arella was lured into joining a cult that worshipped Trigon. She was chosen to be Trigon's bedmate, and afterwards, was approached by the Monks of Azar. They offered to shelter her and the child from Trigon, agreeing to raise the child in another dimension. A dimension named Azarath.

I believe the best translation of Raven's backstory is that Arella was lured into the cult of a powerful Fiend. Afterward, Arella was approached by Githzerai monks who offered to shelter both her and the unborn child with them in their home: the Chaotic Neutral Plane of Limbo. It would be here in the monasteries among stoic and scholarly Githzerai monks and wizards that Raven would learn to control her emotions, expand her mind, and hone her psionic powers. And one day, she would leave Limbo to return to the Prime Material Plane. This encompasses every part of Raven's backstory: being raised in another dimension, learning to control her emotions, honing her psychic powers.

As a half-demon, Raven translates nicely to Tiefling. Due to her empathy powers to manipulate other people's emotions, we'll go with a Fierna Tiefling. This will give her Friends, Charm Person, and Suggestion.

Having been raised in another plane, I would call Raven a Far Traveler. This grants her proficiency with Insight to get a reading for people's true feelings, and Perception to sense things around her, both of which can be flavored as her empathic powers and her extrasensory abilities. It also grants her proficiency with a Dragonchess Set, and she learns the Abyssal language.

When Robin becomes Slade's apprentice, Raven is the one to remind the team that he's a villain now, and they have to take him down. No matter how much the thought of it upsets her. When Cyborg leaves the team, Raven rationalizes that it's pointless to get upset and to focus on their duty as heroes. When Raven and Starfire switch bodies, Raven explains that she has to remain in control of herself to keep her powers from leaking out of her and destroying everything around her. When Trigon's prophecy comes to pass, Raven reveals that the reason she became a hero was that she wanted to do as much good as she could before the prophecy came to pass, hoping her good deeds would redeem her for the horrible destiny she knew she would one day fulfil. Raven is inarguably a perfect example of Lawful Good.

TRIGON

But what about Raven's father? After all, we're not importing Trigon into the setting, we're picking an existing DnD Fiend to be the stand-in for Trigon. Firstly, we have to settle whether Trigon is a Devil or a Demon, and I believe he is a Demon. He betrays Slade the first chance he gets once it's time to pay up on his side of the deal, and his very presence on Earth changes the entire planet. Demons in DnD are Chaotic Evil, untrustworthy to keep their word. They also have an impact on the world around them that corrupts everything to resemble the Abyss. And prolonged demonic presence only makes these changes worse. But which Demon Lord is her father?

Graz'zt: Graz'zt is an interesting choice because he's actually had a relationship with a human: the witch Tasha. He is the Demon Prince of Lust and Pleasure. Graz'zt will take any opportunity to turn any moment that is sweet, beautiful, and tender into something perverse, degrading, and carnal. If anyone was going to sleep with Arella just to use her to make a kid he can manipulate, it would be Graz'zt. He's not as big as Trigon, but his personality does support that he'd play the waiting game. After all, he used to be a devil before he realized he would never rise high enough to stand beside Asmodeus, and defected to the Demon side. So unlike other Demons, Graz'zt is more clever and patient. It also means Tasha could be a DnD counterpart to Arella, and also gives Raven a grandmother: Baba Yaga. This places Raven in a very prolific magic bloodline of powerful female spellcasters. Before Demogorgon showed up, Graz'zt was contending with Orcus, the Demon Lord of Necromancy for supreme rulership of the Abyss, so he's no slouch in terms of power. He is a Large CR 24 Demon. Baphomet: Baphomet's strongest argument is that he resembles Trigon the most, with his cloven hooves and antlered head. However, Baphomet is more of a king of beasts and brutes, and his general behavior does not support Trigon's plot to conceive Raven. However, Baphomet's sphere of influence is brutality, aggression, rage, and conquest. Red Raven or Dark Raven literally embodies Raven's rage, and anger causes Raven's demonic powers to rise to the surface. Which is on point for Baphomet. The biggest point against Baphomet however is that he favors those with natural weapons such as claws and horns, as his followers should want to rampage and gore with their natural weapons. So a magical daughter like Raven doesn't really fit the bill. This could be her rebelling against his physical aggression mindset, but that's stretching to make it work. Trigon also doesn't care about fighting the Titans, using magic to distract them while he gathers his strength. Baphomet would take glee in the fight, something Trigon does not do. He is a Huge CR 23 Demon. Demogorgon: The Prince of Demons, Demogorgon is the most powerful of all the Demons in the Abyss. He's enormous, and an absolute world-ending level threat. But is he clever enough to plot to conceive Raven? Yes, but only partially. Demogorgon's two heads are basically his left brain and his right brain. One calculating and clever, the other feral and impulsive. The clever head could plan to use Raven as a portal, but the other head might be too impulsive and ruin the plan. He is a Huge CR 26 Demon.

Ultimately, I have to go with Graz'zt as Raven's father. He's not as powerful or as huge as Demogorgon, but he's more manipulative and cunning. He has the patience to wait for his plan to come to fruition, he's manipulative enough to use false love and affection to coerce people into obedience, and he's depraved enough to get a sick pleasure out of using, debasing, and defiling any amount of love shown to him. More importantly, half his brain isn't impulsively trying to undermine every single one of his schemes. While Demogoron is more of a world-ending 'we are so f*cked' threat, Graz'zt is still a Demon Lord. Just because he's prettier does not mean he's not still an enemy that even high level adventurers would struggle with. Graz'zt, after all, is a CR 24 Fiend. Certainly nothing to scoff at. That's only 2 CR below Demogorgon.

CLASS

Raven is clearly a practitioner of arcane magic, but the source of her magic is so muddled that she could be any one of the three main arcane casters.

Aberrant Mind Sorcerer: Raised in Limbo amongst the Githzerai, the Aberrant Mind works well for Raven's backstory. For sorcerers, magic is infused into their very being. They don't need to study or make a deal, they just have a well of magical power innately. How they get this well varies. Usually, it passes along bloodlines. But it can also be like a mutation. One could go to the Shadowfell for Spring Break and return as a Shadow Magic Sorcerer. One can be given a spark of magic by a willing benefactor, they could touch an object that imparts magic to them, or awaken the power in a moment of dire circumstances. They could be born during an eclipse, travel to another plane, or be exposed to the weave itself. Their magic is constantly bubbling up inside of them, and leaking out if they don't contain it. Their magic can be explosive and hard to control. All of which sounds remarkably similar to Raven's powers and the constant struggle she undergoes to contain and control these powers. With Revelation in Flesh, Raven can fly for 10 minutes at a time at the cost of a single Sorcery Point. There's also no limit to how often she can reuse this power, other than her sorcery point pool. Granting Raven something akin to limitless flight, though not exactly. Fiend Warlock: While Raven herself did not make a deal with Trigon, Arella did. Arella was in Trigon's cult. According to Xanathar's Guide to Everything, one way a warlock might be joined to a patron is that their patron has been a benefactor to their family for generations, meaning it is possible to inherit one's otherworldly pact from their parents. There's also something I like to call the Sleeping Beauty Rule. The princess didn't choose to have fairy godmothers, but the king and queen did. The Player's Handbook also highlights that it is entirely possible to stumble into a pact without realizing it, or to become a warlock by simply reading an esoteric tome or touching a sentient blade. As such, it is entirely possible for Raven to be an unwilling warlock of her father. In the show, Trigon says that he gave Raven her powers, and Raven herself says in The End Part III that now that Trigon has no need of her, she no longer has her powers. But this is false, as Raven still has her powers, and uses them to fight back against Trigon. However, this is sort of fuzzy on how this works. Did Trigon really give her those powers, but could not take them away from her, or was Trigon mistaken and was never the source of her power to begin with? There's also the issue that in DnD canon lore, while a warlock Patron can bestow powers, they can't necessarily take them away. And Sorcerers can also have their powers bestowed upon them, further blurring the lines on whether Raven's gifts are more of a sorcerous origin or an otherworldly pact. The w Enchantment Wizard: I've built Raven several times, and every time, she's a Wizard. Raven is the brains of the party. She's a utility spellcaster with a vast knowledge of arcane lore and history. She's a polyglot who speaks several ancient languages, and has a library's worth of creepy esoteric books of arcane lore and eldrtich knowledge in her bedroom. Every spell that deals Psychic damage is under the School of Enchantment, and the school is full of spells that manipulate the mind, the senses, and emotions, all things Raven has displayed the ability to control. But we're not building Raven based on how she behaves in the comics or show. We're building Raven based on DnD lore, and Raven's powers were not cultivated through study. Yes, she learned new spells from Malchior. Yes, she is a highly intelligent person. But scholarly study is not the source of her powers. She does not have a connection to the Weave or any other sort of magical energy in the DC Universe. There are metaphysical forces in DC Comics, such as The Green, The Red, The Black, and other such forces, none of which Raven herself is linked to in any way. As such, I cannot confidently label Raven as a Wizard in accordance with DnD's lore.

Ultimately, I have to go with an Aberrant Mind Sorcerer. Her magic is innate. She works to control and maintain it. And a lack of restraint leads to her magic flooding out of her and impacting the world around her if left uncontrolled. Raven is a Sorcerer. However, she is a good candidate for multiclassing if you so choose. The main reason Raven is said to have left Azarath was due to Trigon finding her, forcing Raven to flee. However, in some versions, it is Raven herself --driven by curiosity -- that seeks her father out. In so doing, alerting him to her location, and dooming Azarath in the process. Either way, the moment of Trigon finding her could be the moment her pact is sealed, multiclassing Raven into a Fiend Warlock. Thus, Raven can start out as a Sorcerer, and possibly dip a level or two into Warlock to boot. This is also a large part of why I didn't make Starfire a Sorcerer. The party doesn't need two sorcerers, and Sorcerer works much better for Raven than it does for Starfire. For my spell recommendation, I will be assuming Raven has 2 levels in Warlock, and 18 levels in Sorcerer. For her Sorcerer skills, we'll give Raven Arcana and History.

SPELLS

*Racial Spells Bold: Aberrant Mind Origin Spells Italics: Warlock Spells Purple: Sorcerer Spells

C Blade Ward, Eldritch Blast, Friends*, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Mind Sliver, Mold Earth, Prestidigitation, Toll the Dead 1 Arms of Hadar, Catapult, Cause Fear, Charm Person*, Command, Dissonant Whispers, Hex, Shield 2 Calm Emotions, Detect Thoughts, Mind Spike, Suggestion*, Tasha's Mind Whip 3 Counterspell, Hunger of Hadar, Fly, Sending 4 Dimension Door, Evard's Black Tentacles, Raulothim's Psychic Lance, Summon Aberration 5 Bigby's Hand, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Synaptic Static, Telekinesis 6 Globe of Invulnerability 7 Plane Shift, Teleport 8 Demiplane 9 Time Stop or Psychic Scream

ELDRTICH INVOCATIONS

Agonizing Blast

Eldritch Sight

BEAST BOY GARFIELD LOGAN

Garfield Logan was born an ordinary human, but when he became sick as a child, his father injected him with a serum using the DnA of a green monkey. The serum saved Beast Boy's life, but he turned completely green as a result, and unlocked his shapeshifting powers. Beast Boy can turn into more than just garden variety zoo animals. He has turned into alien lifeforms, microorganisms, dinosaurs, and dragons. The Werebeast Form he got in the 2003 cartoon episode "The Beast Within" later became Comic Cannon when Beast Boy was captured by Lupus, a minor werewolf villain. Beast Boy's best skill lies in his wild card shenanigans, as he can do things like turn into a whale to make use of how quickly whales think to artificially inflate his intelligence. When the Borneo Rainforest faced extinction, Beast Boy and Swamp Thing worked together to restore the ecosystem. Swamp Thing provided the seeds and flora, and then Beast Boy dispersed himself into a swarm of insects to help pollinate and stimulate the regrowth of the rainforest. Raven even tells Swamp Thing that when Beast Boy does this, he risks losing small parts of himself should anything happen to his many insect forms, but he takes on these risks willingly for the benefit of nature. While Beast Boy's green skin and shapeshifting are a result of the monkey serum he was injected with, Beast Boy's actual ability to shapeshift comes from a metaphysical energy field in the DC Universe called The Red. Think of it like the Force but specifically for all animal life forces in the universe. A similar force called The Green caters to all plant life in the universe, and this power is wielded by characters like Swamp Thing and Poison Ivy.

In terms of his race, because Beast Boy was a normal human until he turned green, I'd have to chalk him up as a Variant Human. Because he's short and green, there is a primal urge to make him a Goblin, and it would be cute, but inaccurate. There's also an urge to make him one of the partially bestial races like Leonin, Hadozee, Satyr, Minotaur, or Yuan-Ti. Even Simic Hybrid has a valid excuse to be in consideration. However, because Beast Boy was born human, I have to go with such. We'll give him +1 Wisdom, +1 Dexterity, and the Charger feat to dash into melee range and get a free attack out of it.

Beast Boy has pretty much always been a hero, first being adopted by the Doom Patrol, and later joining the Teen Titans. Momento ran the Doom Patrol like a military outfit, and Beast Boy grew up respecting rank and following orders. As such, I'd call him a Soldier making him proficient in Athletics, but we'll substitute in Performance to replace Intimidation.

Beast Boy wants to do good, but he's also the Lancer to Robin's stoic serious Leader. Beast Boy is a goofball knucklehead who often shows little regard for the rules. Upon running into the Doom Patrol again, Momento chastises Beast Boy for prioritizing his team's safety over completing the mission. He's usually also the first to suggest bizarre plans or spout off ridiculous theories. As such, I would say Beast Boy is Chaotic Good. He'll do what's right, just in a very unorthodox way.

CLASS

Moon Druid: the most obvious choice, Druid is the only class in the game with access to Wildshape, the ability to shapeshift into animals. Although Beast Boy's powers were originally from genetic experiments gone wrong, his current lore makes Beast Boy connected to The Red, a metaphysical energy that links all animal life in the universe under the Parliament of Limbs. The Red is closely connected to The Green, which characters like Swamp Thing and Poison Ivy are connected to. Due to his connection to the energy of all living animals, Druid is fitting for Beast Boy. The Circle of the Moon is the most fitting option, granting Beast Boy Combat Wildshape. Lycan Blood Hunter: Before he was connected to the Red, Beast Boy's powers were a form of genetic mutation. Blood Hunters are the class that deal with altered DnA. While Beast Boy can't turn into every animal, his Lycan form is suitably animalistic and primal. It can also be a good option if you want to specifically play into the WereBeast form from the episode "The Beast Within". Because Beast Boy lacks supernatural powers beyond his shapeshifting, this version of Beast Boy sacrifices the variety of his wildshaping to keep him a strictly martial character. The Path of the Beast Barbarian also works, but Beast Boy only really has rage issues in "The Beast Within", and it is not otherwise a core aspect of his character, to the point that I didn't feel Barbarian was a good fit for his character. Valour Bard: If we ignore his powers entirely, then Beast Boy's role in the group is comedic relief and unexpected wildcard, which sounds like a Bard. Polymorph is on the Bard spell list, giving Beast Boy a backdoor method of wild shaping without being a druid. Through magical secrets, Bards can also pick up spells from other spell lists, letting Beast Boy pick up Druid spells like Web, Insect Plague, Summon Beast, Conjure Animals, and Guardian of Nature for the Primal Beast form. None of the subclasses jumped out to me for Beast Boy, but Valour Bards are great cheerleaders and sidekicks. Beast Boy has a chronic people pleaser mentality, and uses humor to lift his friends' spirits. Beast Master Ranger: Much like the Bard, this class option doesn't really fit Beast Boy, but it works as a variant build option that rather than being a full caster druid, Beast Boy protects his animal brethren as a mighty hunter. Tigers, Cheetahs, Lions, Gorillas, Elephants, and Rhinos are among his favorite animals to turn into, and would work well as Beasts of the Land. He also favors turning into a Hawk, Falcon, or Pterodactyl for a Beast of the Air. If you want a Beast of the Sea, he tends to favor Crocodiles, Sharks, Octopi, Whales, Swordfish, and Turtles.

While each of these offers interesting character angles, I obviously have to chalk up Beast Boy as a Circle of the Moon Druid. The Lycan Blood Hunter is a very close second choice, but lacks the connection to nature that Beast Boy (especially his Comic counterpart) definitely has. The bard was mostly thrown in to consider his personality, and it wasn't a terrible idea. He is funny, and would absolutely spam Vicious Mockery. A Beast Boy native to Faerun becoming a funny bard feels very organic to his character. But Druid feels just as organic, if not more-so. Finally, the Beast Master was pretty much thrown out as an extra idea, but not one I was taking seriously. Thematically, the idea of Beast Boy as a Lorax but for P.E.T.A. is interesting. Using his bond with animals to protect other animals. But the Druid was the clear winner. For his Druid skills, we'll give Beast Boy Animal Handling and Perception.

SPELLS

Because Beast Boy does not really have magical powers beyond his wildshaping, I put together his spell list by trying to focus on shapeshifting, summoning animal companions, and any other bodily augmentation spell I could find. Spells that change some aspect of a person's body or enhances their senses in some way. I steered clear of any spell that felt too plant-themed or elemental, as Beast Boy is more connected to beasts than he is to storms or the elements.

C Druidcraft, Guidance, Infestation, Primal Savagery 1 Absorb Elements, Animal Friendship, Beast Bond, Speak With Animals 2 Animal Messenger, Beast Sense, Darkvision, Enhance Ability, Enlarge/Reduce, Locate Animals and Plants, Summon Beast 3 Conjure Animals, Protection from Energy, Water Breathing 4 Charm Monster, Dominate Beast, Giant Insect, Guardian of Nature, Polymorph 5 Commune with Nature, Insect Plague 6 Primordial Ward 7 Draconic Transformation 8 Animal Shapes 9 Shapechange

I will say, more than anyone else, his spell list really surprised me. I've always avoided building Beast Boy and hated the idea of him being a druid because it meant giving him spells. But I am surprisingly content with the spell list I have devised for him. It puts all the correct emphasis where it should be: on making Beast Boy the master of body modification, as well as allowing him to channel The Red as well through his animal spells. I used to think Beast Boy didn't work flavor-wise as a Druid, and now I can't believe I ever thought to build him any other way.

TERRA TARA MARKOV

Terra is yet another princess, this time the illegitimate daughter of King Viktor Markov of Markovia. In the Comics, she made her living as a mercenary and criminal, taking odd jobs to get by, while in the show, Terra is a wandering homeless teen. In the comics, Tara was already working for Deathstroke before she met the Titans, while in the show, Terra met the Titans before she met Slade. This is to say, Terra has two completely different personalities. Comics Tara is a villain through-and-through, while Show Terra is a misguided hero turned villain turned reformed villain. Because the other characters are mostly going by their show counterparts, I'll mostly be looking at the Comics version of Tara only to answer any questions about her backstory we don't have from the show. The most important detail from the comics is that Tara's half-brother, Geo-Force (Prince Brion Markov), also has geokinetic powers. However, these powers are not signs of a magical bloodline, as neither King Viktor nor King Gregor Markov had these same powers. Their powers came about from the experiments of Helga Jace, the royal scientist of Markovia. Later, Brion's wife, Denise Howard, exposed herself to the same energies, turning her into Geode. Both Denise and Tara suffered from mental instability after the experiment, suggesting that the source of their powers had a debilitating effect on their mental states. Tara hated pretty much everyone and everything, while Denise desired to kill her own husband. In the comics, Tara was at one point part of the Black Lantern Corp, which raise their members as zombies to harness the power of death and hatred. This zombie Tara then sought revenge on the Teen Titans. I won't be covering this, but thought it was neat trivia.

We're going to stick mainly to the show's lore, so we'll call Terra a Variant Human since her powers are a result of scientific experimentation. We'll give her +1 Dexterity, +1 Wisdom and the Actor feat so she can pretend to be somebody else.

For her background, Terra is a wandering homeless kid. We'll call her an Outlander for Athletics and Survival. However, if you want to play more into Tara's backstory, then Criminal, Spy, Urban Bounty Hunter, and Haunted One could also work.

Show Terra's alignment seems to me to be True Neutral. She joins the Titans because it's offered. She works with Slade because he's an option. It never feels like her betrayal is personal until after Beast Boy turns his back on her. Up until then, she's hesitant and guilty about it. Terra looks out for Terra. That to me says True Neutral. Terra never seems to care that much about helping people or stopping villains. It was always more about just wanting to belong and to have a home. No strong convictions to be a hero or a villain. Which explains why The Girl Who Might Be Terra in Things Change is just an ordinary school girl. Not some great hero or wicked villain. If you're going by Comics Tara, that's straight up Chaotic Evil. The girl hated everyone and everything, and wanted a horizontal relationship with a middle-aged man. Comics Tara was just really unstable. I mean, she saw a Jerricho-possessed Deathstroke freeing the Titans, and instead of talking to him or trying to figure out what was going on, she just pushed the Big Red Button and brought the building down on herself in an attempt to take everyone with her.

CLASS

Terra's class is tricky because unlike Starfire with her light and fire theme, or Raven's psionics and general magic, there's not really a clean and simple class for Earth-based spells. Druids are connected to nature, and Sorcerers and Wizards have pretty wide elemental coverage, but there's not a clear and clean answer like with the other titans. So, let's look at our options:

Wild Magic Sorcerer: While there was a Stone Sorcerer, this subclass never made it past Unearthed Arcana, so we can't really count it. In the show, Terra has poor control over her powers, often causing side effects accidentally. The possibility that the source of her powers also warped her mind in the comics also fits, as wild magic is the pure chaos of the feywild. Sorcerers sometimes get their powers from being exposed to a source of magical energy, visiting other planes, or being born during cosmic events. And the Wild Magic Sorcerer often causes chaos and problems at the table because of the random side effects of their magic, such that a lot of tables hate playing with the subclass because of just how detrimental it can be to have around. Which seems really fitting for Terra. Swarmkeeper Ranger: Like Toph, Terra in the show is an outdoorsy girl who prefers roughing it in the great outdoors. This rough and tumble lifestyle translates well to being a Ranger. The Swarmkeeper can be aided by a swarm of just about anything, and nowhere does it say it has to be sentient. So, Terra could be a ranger aided by a swarm of rocks or sand fighting alongside her. It's certainly an interesting and flavorful option. Rangers get a few earthy spells, but not a ton of them. However, you could always ask your DM to homebrew a rule that would let Ranger Terra pick up some more earthen-based spells from the Druid spell list. Mutant Blood Hunter: If we ignore Terra's powers completely to focus more on where they come from, Terra makes for an interesting Blood Hunter. Her powers are a result of scientific experimentation. Mutants literally alter themselves to fight, fitting that genetic experiment angle nicely. The only difference is that this version of Terra has learned to do it herself. It's not a bad choice. Assassin Rogue: Like the Blood Hunter, the Rogue is being considered without her geokinetic powers in mind. Rather, I'm looking at the Rogue because of how rogues are often infiltrators, spies, and thieves. I chose the Assassin as they have the ability to create a false identity, which is very fitting for Terra and the Judas Contract. Whispers Bard: This one is being suggested mostly for the worldbuilding implications. Bards from the College of Whispers work as spies and saboteurs, infiltrating parties and guilds disguised as other kinds of bards, then selling their cohort's secrets back to whatever spy network they serve. They literally pull off a Judas Contract as a Subclass. And with their Magical Secrets, a Whispers Bard Terra can pick up the few spells that actually let her throw rocks.

If we were just building Terra based on her powers, Wild Magic could have been a decent fit thematically. However, the purpose of this post is to ask ourselves 'what would the Teen Titans be if they were born and raised in Faerun?' And being exposed to the crazy magic of the Feywild just doesn't feel right for Terra. Whispers Bard creates an interesting angle for roleplay, but it caters more to players wanting to play more into her Comic Book Tara counterpart. The willing traitor. Whispers works great for a villainous version of Terra, but not for Show Terra. Blood Hunter and Assassin Rogue are decent ideas, but Terra isn't much of a scientist, and again, Assassin caters much more to Comics Tara than Show Terra. Ultimately, I have to go with the Swarmkeeper Ranger for Terra. As a girl roughing it in the great outdoors, sleeping in caves, and taking care of herself, becoming a ranger seems like a natural extension of the lifestyle she was already leading by the time she met the Titans. And if we're asking what the characters would become if raised in Faerun, that's a pretty cut and dry answer. Terra would have naturally gravitated toward the life of a roaming Ranger, aided by swarms of rocks and sand. Terra Markov is a Swarmkeeper Ranger. For her Ranger skills, we'll give Terra Perception and Stealth. If you want to give her Deception, swap one of the background skills she gets from Outlander, then pick up the dropped skill from the Ranger skill list.

SPELLS

While we decided to make Terra a Swarmkeeper Ranger, it does sacrifice a lot of her Earth-based abilties. However, if you have an open-minded DM, Terra does get a few spells from both Primal Awareness and the Swarmkeeper Subclass that don't quite fit the theme, and a cool DM might be okay with letting you make a few substitutions for Terra's spell list, pulling more Earth-based spells from the Druid and Wizard spell list as an exchange for the excess spells than the base Ranger class gives her. But even without homebrewing in more Earth magic, Terra still gets a few stone-based spells, and Wrath of Nature can let Terra chuck rocks at enemies every turn as a bonus action so long as she maintains concentration on the spell. So even a pure Swarmkeeper Ranger will still get some earthen flavor as Terra. And you could also reflavor spells, such as treating Web like quicksand to keep Terra's earthen flavor.

Italics: Primal Awareness Spells Bold: Swarmkeeper Spells Pink: DM Approved Earth Spells (Homebrew)

C Mage Hand (Mold Earth) 1 Ensnaring Strike, Faerie Fire, Hunter's Mark, Speak With Animals (Catapult, Earth Tremor) 2 Barkskin, Beast Sense, Pass Without Trace, Web (Earthbind, Max's Earthen Grasp) 3 Conjure Barrage, Gaseous Form, Meld Into Stone, Speak With Plants (Erupting Earth, Wall of Sand) 4 Arcane Eye, Locate Creature, Stoneskin, Summon Elemental (Stone Shape) 5 Commune With Nature, Conjure Volley, Insect Plague, Swift Quiver, Wrath of Nature (Transmute Rock, Wall of Stone)

Conclusion

I felt this was an interesting thought experiment. Some characters like Robin and Cyborg changed very little from the last time I built them, while Raven and Beast Boy stayed what I expected but offered new insights into how they fit into the lore of the world. Starfire and Terra had the biggest changes, but those changes I feel are for the better, at least for this post. At least now, you could play a campaign with the Teen Titans while also being completely faithful to DnD lore.

[luveline]

Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!

shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug

Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 

Plus, you’re awfully shy. 

Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 

But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 

“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 

You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 

Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 

“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 

You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 

“Three, two, one.” 

You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 

He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 

“What?” he asks, perturbed. 

“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 

He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 

It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 

“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 

“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 

“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 

You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 

Spencer waits. 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 

“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 

“If that’s okay.” 

“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 

“Really?” 

He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 

You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 

“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 

“You don’t like touching.” 

“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 

“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 

Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 

“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 

Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”

“Or you’re just really, really warm.”

[ywuji]

yuuji doesn’t think he buys you things often, but your bed full of stuffed animals says otherwise. (f!reader, plushie humping and them watching u fuuuuck)

often times when he goes out with friends or on missions, yuuji will come back with little trinkets or toys he thought you would like.

he doesn’t listen when you tell him you have nowhere to put them—when he gifts them to you, he’ll just smile his giddiest smile, hoping you’ll forget about that for a moment.

it's funny because he’ll come over to your tiny uni room down the hall from his own, see his gifts taking up the majority of your space that you’re meant to have, and he’ll still have a mind to think of other things he could get you!!

‘the more the merrier!’ is the sentiment of all of his lighthearted protests when you bring it up in conversation—and he’s genuine with that—but there’s also something else.

something about those times when either you or him are away and you’re missing each other, him telling you to call him—voice or video, ‘whichever you prefer, cutie’—and the conversation ending up in him talking you through straddling his favourite stuffie of the day and grinding your sweet little wet cunnie on it.

"does he feel good, sweetie? …yeah. y'sound so pretty... mhmm, sound so good, my love. keep going, baby."

"nonono, you’re doing great, honey. i know you’re tired, but it’ll be over soon, yeah? just a little more and you can cum… yeeaahh that’s it, princess, doing so well f’me."

"f-fuck… l-look so cute, baby… can you see? ’m leaking so much. …mhm, ‘s all you, pretty girl, ‘s all f’you."

or the other times, when he spends the night at yours, and you touch and you kiss, and the next thing you know is that you’re pushed into the bed, surrounded by your dear stuffies, whining and mewling as yuuji hungrily looms over you, pumping his thick cock into your wet, messy heat.

“yuuji..! a-ah! ‘s too much, ji—ah!” you whimper, voice struggling to come out of your throat every time he pushes into you. he knew from your previous three orgasms he gave that you're reaching your limit, and he’d pull away if he knew you wanted him to, but the way you’re grasping at his toned back, his beautiful neck, and his tousled hair, pulling him closer, deeper into you—he knows you can take it.

“pussy so fuckin’ good, princess… l-love it so much—f-fuck! s-so good for me, baby,” he caresses your precious head, brushing hair out your face and staring right into your eyes as he pushes himself in further into you. the waft of his breath heating your cheeks as he praises you, “suckin’ me in s-so—fuck—tight…“

“‘m close, ji! s-so good! ohmygod…!” you grip onto him impossibly tight, fingers digging into his thick, muscular shoulders.

“h-haah—y-yeah? me t-too... where can i cum, baby?” he pants, his whimpers that you love so much becoming louder.

“inside! insideinside! please inside! pleaseplease—please!” you choke out. you don’t have to wait a moment longer before he’s pounding into you like your lives depend on it, fat cock drilling you at an angle, stretching you out and hitting all those right spots only he can reach.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cu—!“ his lips crash into yours, swallowing your sweet sounds as you cum and cream around his cock, legs wrapping tightly around him feeling ropes of his thick, hot cum spurting into you as you both shake and tremble from your orgasms.

he lowers the rest of his body onto you, being careful not to crush you. his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, whispering little praises and tender words of affection. ‘love you so so much, baby’, ‘did so well for me, pretty’, ‘look so beautiful when you cum’. with his sweaty front now pressed to yours, he lays still. warming his cock inside your cunt to let the both of you ride out your blissful highs.

his head comes up to look into your dazed eyes as you gently cup his hot cheeks. he smiles and chuckles breathily, littering quick kisses from your lips to your chest, licking and sucking cheekily at your nipples, leaving a few lovebites on your breasts.

moving to sit up on his knees, he looks down at where the two of you connect, softly rocking his hips and moving circles over your sensitive clit, watching the sticky white ring of your mixed orgasms coat his cock with each slow thrust.

you whine and hold out shaky fingertips to his hips. he grins, pulling his cock out painstakingly slow, watching his cum leak out of you, collecting it up with his fat cockhead, and pushing it back into you with one last gentle thurst.

“yuuji...” you mewl out with a small pout on your face.

“yeah, honey?” he looks at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“...they were watching the whole time.” you point to the little crowd of plushies who are all faced towards you, an odd feeling washing over you as you realise your shared stuffed ‘children’ witnessed the two of making love right in front of their plastic eyes.

he shrugs nonchalantly, a tired smile on his face “it’s not that bad.” he teases.

“wha-?! what do you mean…?!”

“they’ll just learn a few things,” he smiles playfully at your puzzled expression. “y’know? like how to be in love and… how it feels to know someone truly.” he nods his head and purses his lips as if he's just said something deep.

“you’re so stupid.”

[alexisomnias]

— "LAY ON MY LAP" . . . | twst

⤷ when they're stressed, you offer your lap as a pillow! requested by anonymous ,,,

characters | DORM LEADERS

— "RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“i can…?”

riddle is admittedly nervous when you first say he could rest his head down on your lap. its not that he doesn’t want to! its just that it may be awkward… at least on his behalf. he's never really been intimate with anyone, and while this could be argued as not that intimate, it was too him! (it took him weeks to even start holding your hand)

he glances at you, questioning with his second glance. when you show no sign of retracting your statement he slowly leans his head down to lay on your lap. in no longer then a few minutes he’s comfortable as ever, and soon enough all signs of stress leave him as shallow breaths of tiredness replace it. riddle didn’t realize how comforting such a thing could be… he may take this upon him more often, of course if you let him!

— "LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“lean back.”

leona is the one to take the initiative, finding you laying on his bed upon returning back to his dorm room. he sees it as the perfect chance to destress with his lover by his side as the solution. Might as well sleep it off, no? especially since there is the gift of you right there for him.

you put your phone down, throwing him a questioning glance, to which leona ignores and takes a seat in front of you. leaning back till his head lies between your thighs. resting himself in your embrace, like he was meant to be there in the first place. sleeping like a cat on your lap, your hands might start to slave away through his hair, lulling him to sleep fast enough to let all the stress of the day leave him. it doesn't take long for his heart to calm, and mind to stop running. he knew you were the perfect pillow.

— "AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“are you sure?!?”

azul admittedly had a rough day. the handle on the tweels slipped far much more then usual today which left him doing majority of the work dealing with both the business and keeping the eel brothers in check, lots of running around which left him stressed and exhausted by the end of the day. so when you recommend that he comes rest on your lap? that leaves him breathless with flush creeping up his skin as his heart rings in melody.

upon reassurance that you don’t mind and only wish to help him,. azul pushes past embarrassment of the situation and lays his head down on your lap. his head fitting perfectly on your warm skin (contrary to his cooler tone of temperature), and his eyes shut in relaxation. was being this close to you always so comforting? the stress leaves his system, for even if only this moment… it dissipates into nothing but undying love for you.

— "KALIM AL ASIM

“thank you!”

kalim for the most part didn’t need an excuse to lay his head down on your lap. though in this moment of time, when you offer it, he takes it up, oh your so nice to him... a bright smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your legs. head lying down on you as he hums comfortably. loving feeling close to you as he is.

stress wasn’t an uncommon emotion for kalim, while it never took over a fooled through his head, today it seemed to catch a hold and didn’t let go like caught bait,,, it seemed as if the universe was nice enough today to bring you to him and let him rest in an aura of your love. and he wouldn't give it up for the world, for you make him happier then anything else in the world could ever make him be.

— "VIL SCHOENHEIT

“are you okay with that?”

vil was no stranger to affections, he engages such with you quite often as well! so he asks you once again if your truly okay with him laying down and using your lap as his pillow. when you agree that its okay, vil silently makes his way over and lays his head down upon your lap. he quickly gets rested, and secure between your legs as he takes deep breaths. arms crossed over his chest as he lies down in a princely manner (he is always so pristine it seems..."

he says a thank you, whispering it softly for your ears only. it seems only you knew when he was in need of a rest, a break of sorts. it seems as if only you know when he needs it the most, when he needs you the most... he can thank you for that though, thank you for sticking by his side even when he is during his more ugly moments.

— "IDIA SHROUD

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

upon hearing your request, his hair flushes pink in a quick motion. the tips of his hair burning quickly as he stutters. thats so embarrassing! how could you ever request something such like that?! he pretty much crashes when you say it would be fine and you'd be happy to have him on your lap! do you have any idea what your consenting to?! (its not that bad man!)

it takes a bit of reassurance, and a lot of apprehension on idia's behalf, for him to silently waltz over and lay his head embarrassingly between your legs on your lap. he hides his face in your thigh, though you could feel the heat radiating off it, as you laugh softly (he loves that sound). he mutters a thank you, letting his thoughts fly away. it was like you were a protection charm used in video games, used to keep negativity away from him!

— "MALLEUS DRACONIA

"oh? how interesting."

malleus found the concept of using a lap as a pillow amusing. he briefly remembers Lilia laying him on his lap when he was younger, and seeing the same done with Silver and Sebek, though nobody has ever offered... interesting. today malleus wasn't in the bests of moods, piling stress one on another truly gets to everyone at some point it seems. and this is... just what he needs.

so he accepts your offer on stand, and lays down. laying horizontal on your lap so his horns don't stab against your stomach, and malleus quickly grows relaxed. a homey feeling you truly do give off for him. perhaps he'd ask to lay like this more often, he thinks to himself, admiring you from below. staring up at you as you lay back yourself to rest.

"how wonderful you look under the moonlight." he thinks.

[satorusdiary]

hot rich dilf + babysitter reader

dilf! toji fushiguro x reader Mafia AU

age gap (reader is 21, toji is 39) + smut & fluff + reader is in college + toji is a rich man who lives a dangerous life

toji fushiguro.

the biggest mafia boss around Japan, a single dad, with one kid. he is also living in one of the most beautiful houses in Japan. the richest neighborhoods around on the hills, where no one is able to see it well.

whenever you would hear, see, or look at that name wherever you are in the city all you think about is hot, rich dilf.

it’s wrong to think of that, especially when you were the babysitter for his son. yet, toji couldn’t risk the dangers of his son being taken cared of in a public daycare; where anyone can take him and possibly use him as ransom.

that’s why he has you, his personal baby sitter. the young, beautiful woman who is still in college, taking care of his child. something his ex whore of a wife couldn’t do.

whenever you get a text whilst taking classes, your heart skips a beat and your thighs clench together at who the message is from.

Toji sent 1:23 pm

Hey, y/n. I’m sorry for the sudden message, is it alright if you babysit megumi around 4? I have important things to take care of at work.

he is a dangerous man, yet you would never back down taking care of his child. you are putting yourself in major risks, but whenever you would see toji’s frame holding megumi on his hip you think differently.

megumi is a different story, he is a splitting image of his father besides the scars. he’s a sweet boy, kind and respectful to you, and would constantly always want you over to his fathers house.

you enjoy his company, him and his father.

You sent 1:25 pm

of course, not a problem! my classes are ending so i’ll be able to be there by the time you’re about to leave.

Toji sent 1:25 pm

Great, thank you so much. I will double your payment for being able to take care of Megumi during a school day. Thank you again.

not to mention, how good the payment is! by the end of the day you are able to pay 3 months worth of rent for your apartment. there is never a time where you never have left over money for yourself.

you always think it’s a mistake by how much he pays you, how delusional you were missing all the signs he has given you.

the amount of times he would wink at you, with that sexy smirk on his scarred lips. the way he would love you out the way with a hand on your waist, carefully pushing you to the side.

and the way he gives you cheek kisses, saying it’s a friendly greeting towards everyone when he knows damn well he doesn’t kiss anyone’s cheek besides yours and megumis.

his hopes continue, his hopes in you falling for him continue to increase.

toji will always protect you, and megumi. even if you are just a baby sitter, to him you were more than that.

he appreciates the time you put in for his son, and for him. and he appreciates how you always manage to come to his house earlier than expected just to take care of megumi.

toji approaches you with a tight black suit, one that hugs his muscular frame insanely well. your thighs rub against each other without you noticing.

something that wants your heart is when he hold megumis hand, whilst approaching you. it’s cute and wholesome.

“megs, you be good for y/n okay? i’ll be back in a bit.” toji kisses megumis forehead, letting go of his hand before making his way towards you with a small, but seductive grin.

like always, he kisses your cheek before saying a word to you. your stomach has butterflies fluttering around, he continues to sweet talk you.

it’s funny, how could such a dangerous man who does unthinkable things everyday warm your heart in such a way?

“thank you so much, again y/n. here is the money, please be safe and help yourself around the house.” his green eyes pierce through your e/c eyes. his hands giving you a stack of money, more than usual.

your eyes widened, it’s too much. it’s almost as if you depend on him too much with the amount of money he gives you for what, just a few hours of you taking care of megumi?

"mr fushiguro, i cannot accept this. why are you handing me so much?" you questioned, looking up at his tall frame.

he shakes his head and chuckles, pushing your hand that was holding the money closer to your chest.

"its for you, and your hard work. don't question it, you deserve it sweetheart." the pet name slips out, but he has no shame in calling you that. you are his sweetheart after all.

before you could say anything else, he continues on. and continues to make you flustered with his words, and expressions.

"oh, and y/n dear, call me toji. no need to be so formal when you have done so much for me, and my son." he caresses your cheek before brushing past you, grabbing his hat and work jacket from the coat hanger.

"..thank you, so much toji! i will forever appreciate everything you have done for me sir." you smile up at him, waving him goodbye before he is out the door.

"not a problem, dear. you both take care, be back inna bit." he closes the door. the smile on your face hasn't left, and the fast speed of your hear beating increases as you lock the door with its additional locks.

you snap out of your joyful thoughts when megumi embraces you with his small, slightly chubby arms. they close around your waist as he looks up from your stomach with a heart warming smile.

"why cant you just get with my dad, y/n? he likes you soo much, and you treat us so well." he frowns, eyes glossy and filled with adortion.

your heart weeps, his stare makes you double think everything. what if you did get with toji?

"megs.. i don't think he likes me like that sweetheart. and its okay! its okay just being your baby sitter." you pick him up, placing him on your hip while you walk towards his play area. it was clean, free of toys scattered everywhere in the room.

"you're so wrong! i know he likes you a lot. he kisses your cheek, and forehead like me! that means he loves you." the word that holds so much power, and strength over anyone slips from his lips. yet he doesn't try to apologize and make it out as a mistake.

"not only that, but you are like a mommy to me. better than the other one, don't leave tonight. please y/n!" he cries out, hugging you as tight as he can.

you look down at him, sitting on the bed with a sad expression. you never knew how much megumi had actually cared for you. and it amazed you how good he was able to speak as a 4 year old.

"megumi,' you start off, watching as he looks up at you with teary eyes.

"i'll see if i could stay tonight, but just for tonight!" you tell him, his lips automatically curl into a big smile, before he kisses you on the cheeks. the same way his father does.

"yay! thanks y/n. now can we play, please?" he slips out of your embrace and begins pulling out toys from his drawer, handing you a big car which you take from his small hands.

"sure, megumi. if you want, ill take you to the park after?" you question and get on your knees, getting down to his level so you would be able to play properly.

he nods his head repeatedly, you wonder if his cheeks every get tired from smiling so much.

"yes! thank you y/n, you're the best!"

the day goes by fast, now you are sitting on megumi's bed, tucking him in before he goes to sleep.

"y-you're gonna stay tonight, right y/n?" the little boy questions, turning to look at you. the only source of light was the hallway lights, through the opened door.

you stay silent for a few seconds, giving him a hopeful smile that would make him feel better.

"i'll see, i still have to check in with your dad." you replied. deep down you knew you wouldn't stay over, especially when you knew it would be pretty weird to stay over at your bosses house, just for his kid over night.

you would just have to make up a lie by tomorrow, apologizing to the younger boy on why you couldn't stay over.

i'll say i had classes! yeah that is a good excuse. you thought to yourself.

"okay.. goodnight y/n." megumi utters, smiling before he closes his eyes and drifts off the sleep.

you stay in the same position, watching him peacefully drift off with his hand loosely around yours. after a few minutes, you knew you had to go home.

"bye megs.." you whisper, kissing his head before standing up from his bed, walking towards the outside of his bedroom.

you sighed and began walking down the hallway, towards the exit of the home.

“you’re not gonna stay the night?” a voice startles you, making your turn around with a hand over your heart.

“toji-san! w-when did you get home?” you nervously laughed, and breathed in heavily as he walked towards you.

your heart jumps to your throat as he looks down at you, the tension was high.

his hand reaches your shoulder, squeezing and rubbing over it seductively. a smirk appearing on his features, that stupid sexy smirk that makes your pussy heat up.

“don’t mind that darling. as i said, you’re not gonna stay the night? thought you wanted to be with megs?” the smirk turns into a small frown, making you rethink on why you were going to leave in the first place.

“‘m sorry.. i-i just didn’t think you would be comfortable with it.” you admitted, looking up at him with guilty eyes.

your hand clutches your tote bag, the both of you stay in silence before he speaks up. a kiss being left on your forehead, it drowns out the guilty feeling and lights up your features.

“it’s fine sweets. y’want to talk for a bit and have dinner together? i don’t mind you staying over, megumi has a strong liking for you.” he waits for a response.

it’s almost embarrassing to you how fast you nodded your head, yet toji chuckles at how dedicated you were towards the offer.

you did not go home that night, as expected. but what happened was something you never thought would happen at all.

you thought you would be in your own bedroom, but here you were. face flat onto toji’s pillows, and him behind you groping your body in many ways. his cock drilling inside your plush, tight pussy.

“you’re so beautiful, my love.” his words continue to make you cry, both ways. he flips you over so his hand would be able to wrap around your breast, and the other caressing your head as you take all of him inside of you.

“daddy— ‘s so good!” you cry out, mind getting foggy as you look at him with the most love and adoration expression he could ever make out. his heart melts.

he shuts you up with a kiss, tongues clashing together as his hands roam around your love handles, squeezing and slapping them.

you moan into the kiss, it’s muffled but he was able to hear it clearly. the sound was music to his ears, making him slam into you rougher and deeper, his cock abusing your g-spot.

you were just too beautiful, too pure for him. he couldn’t resist you. the day he met you in a coffee shop he knew he wanted you, and you would become his.

“shh, baby. can’t forget gumi is sleeping, hm?” he hums, pulling away from your pouty, swollen lips.

“sorry.. ‘jus feels too good. love your cock s’ much tojii.” you moan once again. your hand interlaces with his bigger hands, pinning you down on his large bed.

“i know, sweet girl. you almost needa cum?” he coo’s into your ear, large, muscular hand going down onto your stomach. your womb filled with toji’s hot seed.

you whine, nodding repeatedly and look up at him with desperate eyes. sobs leave your mouth, the bubbly feeling in your stomach begging to be released.

“please! need t’ cum, lemme cum daddy.. please!” you beg over and over, it’s adorable to him. the way you’re so desperate for him, and his cock. even if it’s bullying your insides.

arousal floods into your insides, the way toji lowly groans on top of you makes you see the stars.

“cum with me, my dear.” he moans out, hands gripping at your waist as he continues to slams you down on his veiny, hard, big cock.

just like that, you realease all over him. you hadn’t even notice you squirted. the feeling of toji filling you to the brim once again made your eyes foggy, filled with tears. thankfully toji was there to wipe away any tears left.

hot cum continues to spurt into your pussy, the feeling of your walls clenching over his cock so well makes toji’s feelings for you grow stronger.

“my beautiful, princess.” he whispers through heavy breathes. your heart beating even faster as his hands cup your jaw, pulling you into another heated kiss.

“starting now, you’re mine. my little girl.”

[scribs-dibs]

i'm an orange moon...

(reflecting the light of the sun)

major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥

wc; ~ 1.6k

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.

The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.

Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.

Which, of course, is no one.

So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.

Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.

So you. You are strange to him.

Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.

“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”

You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”

Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.

“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”

“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.

“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”

You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.

How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?

The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.

And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.

The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.

(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)

“Shall we?”

Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.

Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.

But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.

“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.

“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.

He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.

Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33

[augustinewrites]

summary: realizing you've fallen for someone is hard. even more so when that person is miya atsumu.

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab brought to you by augustinewrites and seiwas!) (a month and a half late but here nonetheless!) ps @seiwas ur my one true valentine

you’d been planning to leave your boss’ party at a sensible 9pm. 

but one drink had turned into two, two had turned into three, then four. you’re just about to down a shot with osamu when his brother appears, resting an arm around his shoulders. 

atsumu is known first as osamu’s twin, and onigiri-miya’s biggest supporter second (third is a major league volleyball player, but you have to keep him humble). he orders a lot of food a lot of the time, always tipping spectacularly. during his team’s off season, he’s there from opening till closing, doing his best to bus tables and take orders. 

he’s been off for a few days, so you’d been seeing a lot of him lately. not that you really minded because, well–

atsumu is hot. 

you’ve known this for a while but refused to linger on the fact. you’ve done your best to lock it within the furthest recesses of your mind and throw away the key because he’s your boss’ brother. mixing business with pleasure has never been a smart move. 

the blond holds up his own drink and flashes you a charming grin, eyes darting up and down your figure appreciatively. you can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to find the perfect thing to say. 

“what are we toasting to?” you ask, clearing your throat to mask the sudden bout of insecurity you’re feeling.

“to good fortune, good health–”

“and good company,” atsumu adds, winking before the three of you tip your glasses back, liquor sliding down your throat. 

five drinks just turned into an incredibly questionable decision. the dyed blonde, volleyball playing type.

you hadn’t meant for it to happen, you swear. you hadn't meant to let him tug you into his brother’s (your boss’) bedroom and you hadn’t meant to kiss him. 

but it'd all happened so swift, so laughably cinematic. pressing up against a closed door as he fumbled for the handle. you’d shared messy, rushed kisses as hands slipped underneath clothes, but atsumu’s lips were warm and you liked how they moved against your own. 

“wait, wait–” you mumbled, pulling away for a second to look at him. “are we really going to–” you gesture between you.

atsumu gently nipped at your throat, humming. “why shouldn’t we?”

you shouldn’t because he’s your boss’ brother and your seasonal coworker. while not outright banned in onigiri miya’s code of conduct, workplace relationships certainly weren't wise. 

“i'm just saying,” he murmurs, the thumb brushing the top of your thigh making you squirm. “if you want to, i'm game. we don't have to make a big deal out of it.”

your nose scrunches at what he’s implying. rational, sober you who hadn't just been kissed dizzy wouldn't even consider this type of illicit exchange. whatever version you were tonight though…

“wouldn’t it be weird? after, i mean.” 

“not unless we make it weird,” he says, glancing up at you through unfairly long lashes. “and…”

surprise melts into curiosity as you wait to hear what he has to say, but he trails off. he quickly tries to dismiss it with a shake of his head before moving in to kiss you again.

but you lean back and fix him with an expectant look. “no. what were you going say?” 

his cheeks flush before he lets his head drop against your shoulder, mumbling something that sounds like you’re really hot under his breath. 

_____

in theory, no-strings sex is supposed to be simple, mechanical fun. 

and at first, no-strings sex with atsumu is. 

he’s good in bed, unsurprisingly. he puts his money where his annoyingly talented mouth is and leaves you trembling atop your bed sheets every time. he’s eager to learn you, making each encounter a little better than the last.

outside of sex, you don’t really see much of him. pro athletes rarely get any down time. when he’s not at practice he’s at the gym and vice versa. when he’s not at either, he’s out of town for a game. 

but still somehow, your relationship evolves (slowly at first, then suddenly at once as things often do).

you’d spent a lot of time together leading up to new year’s. grabbing a snack across the street during lunch breaks. christmas shopping together on the weekends. coffee dates on lazy, snowy evenings. you still go home with him, but it’s no longer accompanied by the blur of alcohol or the burn of desire. 

it’s different now. you still want him, but not just because he’s got wicked abs. 

you want him because he always remembers your coffee order. 

you’re treading a dangerous path. no-strings sex only works if there’s no connection other than physical. 

(which is why no-strings sex with atsumu changes on new year’s eve.)

tonight is different. he’s different. 

tonight, atsumu kisses your shoulder. your jaw. the tip of your nose. soft words of praise are whispered against your skin instead rather than grunts of pleasure in your ear.

you love the feel of his hands on your waist. his face beneath your fingertips. it’s a lot. it’s so much. it’s–

“i love you,” he groans, curling his fingers into the hair on the back of your head as he noses at your neck.

______

the lunch rush at onigiri miya has just started to slow down, so  and osamu are in the back office. you’re both hunched over a laptop updating the inventory when atsumu appears in the doorway. he slings a hand towel over his shoulder, casting a brief, hopeful look in your direction.

you stare hard at the screen as osamu glances between you both. 

“dishes are mostly done,” the blond says. “i'm gonna head home.”

(another hopeful look.)

“yeah,” osamu nods, catching the apron that’s tossed over to him. “feel free to grab something on your way out.” 

it’s then that you finally steal a quick glance at him, just in time to see his kicked-puppy look. it’s almost enough to waver your resolve, tugging in your heartstrings just enough before you turn away.

“trouble in paradise?” your boss asks once his brother is gone. 

“he’s the trouble.” you sigh. “obviously i’m the paradise.”

“i’ll say. something happen between you two?” 

you close the laptop, casting him a warning glance. “don’t you have onigiri to make?”

“yeah,” he shrugs. “but the scrub’s been moping around for weeks. not to mention he’s been playing ‘i wanna know what love is’ every time i get in a car with him.”

“sounds like a quarter-life crisis.”

osamu hums thoughtfully. “could be. or maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve been sleeping together and pretending everyone doesn’t already know you’re in love too.”

leave it to your boss to drop truth bombs in the middle of the work week.

“so what if he said he loved me?” you ask, throwing your hands up. “it wasn't– it wasn't like i love you i love you. it was…middle of sex i love you. he didn't mean it.”

osamu stared at you, as if trying to figure out if you were serious. “do you think he chooses to come here in his down time and work for free washing dishes? he comes here for you. the idiot obviously loves you. you’re really gonna sit here and tell me you don't love him too?”

you supposed…you supposed this wasn't your typical friends with benefits arrangements. late nights weren't just spent tangled up in each others bedsheets. they were spent drinking tea on the balcony of your apartment. they were spent giggling and cuddling on the couch, not really watching sitcom reruns all night long. 

you supposed that somewhere along the line, the scale between love and friendship had tipped out of balance. 

maybe…maybe that didn’t have to be a bad thing.

dividers by @/enchanthings! please check out their adorable work!

[loveinhawkins]

Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.

His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.

It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.

He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.

She sounds… happy.

“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”

Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.

“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.

“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.

He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.

“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”

The message ends.

In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.

See you tonight.

He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.

-

He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.

He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.

The gates spread, at the end.

There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.

But he knows.

He knows.

-

“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.

It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.

He’s never going to know.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”

Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”

“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.

Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”

He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.

It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.

“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.

“Don’t,” Steve says.

He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.

They’re all just pretending.

-

He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.

He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.

Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.

And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?

But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—

A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”

“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.

He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”

It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”

Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.

“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.

“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”

Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”

Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.

Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.

He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.

This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.

Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.

Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”

“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”

Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.

[yunohentai]

night lights. warnings: noncon/cnc ?, pervert heeseung, boob guy hee, reader's older (like 2 years?), reader's shy and sophisticated, virgin reader + experienced hee, dumbification, she says no (which is like noncon) but is enjoying it so its cnc, clicking pics and recording sex too ig??, indication of blackmailing towards the end, he masturbates alot. this is like real filth with some wild kinks. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK + minors dni please.

Lee Heeseung has huge secrets, everyone thinks he's a perfect boy with great grades and a promising future ahead... but little do they know. He's the biggest pervert you could come across. Just 19 yet he's obsessed with sex. He lost his virginity at the age of 17 to a 20 year old girl who rode his dick in a huge crowded party. he was so obsessed with the feeling that since then he's been having sex every week, different pussy every time and well he got blessed to have a huge, thick cock which he knew how to use well, oh and his amazing looks... got all the girls on his dick, ready to let him ruin them.

While you, Y/F/N... knows only the main thing. 'Sex is done to reproduce.' without too much of an idea, and neither you've ever felt any "dark" desire. Innocent little sweetheart who is focused on building up a career and leading a stable life. You love shopping, studying English literature and posting on Instagram. Your tits are so huge. It's as if your tits are honey and boys are bees, they want you and your body so much... but you don't wanna give it up.

Heeseung and you were in the same college but have never crossed ways until today. You were wearing a sage green dress till your knee, which showed alot of your cleavage, your sister always bought you outfits like those in hopes you'll finally have a boy in your life.

You were on your way to class while reading through your 'Wuthering Heights' notes quickly, not noticing your way as you bumped into a guy, falling on top of him. It was obviously none other than, Heeseung. It was a very bad collision. You fell in his lap, your arm hurting as he just stared at you with his mouth wide open, eyes on the main attraction, the huge tits that were almost slipping out of the dress.

Unknowingly his hand moved towards your chest, fixing your dress as you gasped softly and looked into his eyes. he felt your cleavage and the softness made him harden a little as he got up and helped you up too. "I'm so sorry." he apologized and bowed, eyes stuck on your milky white legs. "I'm sorry too! Please forgive me!" you felt really shy and guilty as you bowed, your breasts coming all out again as he moaned lowly and made you stand straight again, "hey it's fine. anyways, I'm heeseung. Freshman." you smiled at him while fixing your dress.

That fucking smile. His heart fluttered, and butterflies filled all of his stomach and he smiled too. "I'm Y/n, Junior." he nodded his head as her cheeks burned with shyness. "I hope we become friends." he winked and walked away, leaving you a mess because of how well that handsome boy treated you and even cared about how your dress revealed your private parts! so considerate!!

He had left straight for the bathroom as he then sat in cubicle, gasping to himself. " Oh wow" he said to himself as he then started wanking, he couldn't help thinking of her. Heeseung tries to use his negative emotions like, anger and all because he works his ass off all the time. So he mostly channels those emotions sexually, kinda hot.

~ ~ ~

The day had ended as you were by your locker, putting in your books and taking the one you're gonna study at home. as heeseung came running to you. "Oh my god- listen y/n do you major in English lit. ?" he asked her, acting all worried. as you nodded your head in confusion. "why?" you asked and he leaned on the lockers. "Okay so our teacher is making me get tutored by a very annoying girl so I told him I'll find someone else, and while looking for someone else I saw you. Do you mind?" he told her with a pout on his lips, and the look in his eyes, that could make everyone melt. "Hmm... I'm not that good at it but I can help."

heeseung smiled. " thanks alot!! btw, your number?" he asked with a pretty smile and you nodded while softly blushing as you both exchanged numbers and shook hands.

~ Timeskip to a month or so later ~

You and Heeseung sat in the hallroom of your rented apartment as you helped him out with the freshman English lit syllabus, wearing shorts and sleeve less top that barely kept your tits inside. "Okay let's take a two minute break." you said and took your phone scrolling through your instagram. you were wearing a really soft shade of pink which highlighted your hard nipples because of cold and your cleavage. Heeseung pulled out his phone and subtly clicked alot of pictures of them, from even different angles.

"hey, i'm gonna use the bathroom." he said and you nodded, very busy on your phone as he quitely went towards the bathroom but sneaked into your bedroom. he knew you won't look for him for the next 10 minutes, so he went into your wardrobe for like the 5th time this month and stole another pair of your panties, it was a lacy white one as he sniffed it and moaned. "Like always. even her fucking panties smell heavenly." he said and put it in his pocket as he went back outside.

he was a bit shocked to see you stretching from your spot, your complete breasts visible and ass in the air, as you lazily tried to grab the charger and your earphones. your hard pink nipples rubbed on the wool carpet getting harder as he felt his dick harden, he looked down and saw the boner. he sighed and coughed, making her gasp and sit back up, fixing her clothes. "Are you alright?" he asked and you nodded. "Let-let's get back to work!" you said and he shook his head. "Wait y/n let me help you." he said and smirked, he knew you were gullible and he could atleast get to touch your tits tonight.

He sat down, way closer to you than before. "Straighten your back." you were about to question but he shushed you and you nodded, giving up. You followed his command as he then leaned down, now his face was almost buried in your chest and your eyes widened. "Hees-" he silenced you and grabbed your tits using his hands. "Heeseung stop!" you said in an angry tone. "just let me do it, y/n!" he said and removed your shirt with one hand and held your hands tightly with the other one. he was so ecstatic to finally see the tits.

he hooked his lips on your nipple and started sucking on it aggressively while caressing the other one, you could feel wetness spread down between your legs. Confusion was what you felt, what's happening- why am i loving it..? she let out a string of hot moans as he grew harder and harder, he then sucked her tits really good, the nipples un-hardening slowly. he then pulled away.

"see. that's how they un-harden" he rolled his eyes and you looked into his eyes. "oh... thank you... heeseung.. can we conti-continue?" he shook his head. "I'm going home." you nodded as he left.

you didn't know or understand this feeling between your legs, as you went into your bedroom, touching between your legs and gasping. "Oh god- i'm just gonna sleep-" you gasped and hugged the pillow between your legs falling asleep.

And well in your sleep, you humped that pillow, thinking it's heeseung's thigh. oh your first wet dream!

while heeseung thrusted his dick into your panties, and also wanked himself off, moaning and grunting your name. how you moaned, your scent, the smell of you in the panties, your tits, your innocence, your beauty.. everything turned him on so bad as he grabbed his phone and wanked himself more and faster, watching you boobs.

~ The next week ~

For the full next week you were acting weird. turning red whenever heeseung was around, and not even avoiding him at all, trying to get closer to him. While heeseung enjoyed the attention and continued to secretly steal your panties and click lewd pictures of you.

For example, He dropped his fork down on purpose and went down the table, where you sat with your legs open wide and enjoyed the food as he clicked a photo. Then when you were busy looking for something under your bed, he got a picture of your perfect round ass. Oh and when you thought he was in the bathroom and sheepishly pushed your hand inside your shorts, feeling and caressing her clit. that photo made him feel so fucking turned on. he litreally caught you touching yourself, he thought. And last, when you had left your main door unlocked and he got in, you had taken off your lens and were showering, you didn't even see him when he got the most lewd of all pictures and videos. Photo and video of you squeezing and scrubbing your tits and them bouncing etc.

He was in love with your body and with sexualizing you. He was excited to fuck you and feel your pussy.

Today you went over to heeseung's so you could help him out with the work and studying as his exam was approaching. you wore the tightest and revealing dress today. it was till your thigh and super tight on the breast region making them pop out more. you had no idea why you were doing this but dressing up for him was fun.

you rang the bell and smiled as he opened the door. "hey y/n, welcome" he greeted as you walked in, taking of your jacket and hanging it. heeseung was done with life now, you're wearing a peach dress till your thighs which was flying everywhere because of the fan, showing him your black underwear and the fact your tits were spilling out and your nipples were visible, you weren't even wearing a bra.

he was now almost offended, she acts innocent? and then dresses like that? is she fooling me.. he pushed away the thoughts and led her into his bedroom as the two sat down and today you were helping him finish his sketches for submission. his arm was pressed in the region between your breasts as you led his hand and helped him sketch. "see, that's how you do it. you're bad at this." you said and continued to lead his hand, as your tits then rubbed on his arm.

That. drived him insane, but he held back and decided to play the same game with you. you giggled at his bad drawing and made fun of him. "Oh yeah? You're so mean" He said and started to tickle you as you giggled and fell backwards onto his bed as he was on top of you tickling you while you giggled and bounced. His eyes were stuck on your tits. "OKAY STOP STOP NOW."

He stopped and you looked into his eyes, seeing a certain look on his face which scared you and brought that same feeling between your legs. "Y/n, Can I?" he asked leaning in to kiss you as you let the thoughts leave your head and pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and let him lead.

His hands were next to your head as he softly kissed you, slowly speeding up and biting your lips. His hands ranged lower while touching your thighs and touching you sensually as you made out with while breathing heavily. Soon the reality hit you as you pulled away and tried to push him off of you. "heeseung no no-"

You were resisting him but the soft look in his eye had now been replaced by something darker, something more scary. Chills went down your spine and your pussy fluttered. "Shh" He whispered and started to leave a trail of harsh bites kisses from your chin to your shoulder blade. "I've been waiting for this moment. Don't fuck it up for me."

"Heeseung stop, let me go." you said as a few moans left your mouth too. He rolled his eyes and slapped your face as you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. With one swift moment he threw everything that was on the bed away and pulled you closer to him.

"Are you nicely gonna take it off or should i tear it off?" He asked as you looked at him with doe eyes hoping he'd stop but the need in your eyes stood out to him more. "Fine." And there was your dress, left only in shred around your thighs.

Your tits fell out with a small bounce as he licked his lip at that view. He shimmied off the shreds and your panties to the side as you tried to stop him, few tears forming in your eyes. I want to feel more.. you thought but tried to kick him off of yourself. "Please stop this!!"

His hand moved between your legs harshly as the other one held you down, he rubbed your clit harshly and waited for your wetness to grow so he could put his fingers inside your walls while you complained and cried. His lips were abusing your tits like an animal, biting, pulling the nipple and kissing them. You were moaning and rubbing your hips against his fingers while he thrusted them harshly.

"It- hurts.." You cried out with your eyes closed and he smiled. "Just the way my dick used to hurt watching you in those tiny clothes love." He said and continued abusing your tits and pussy. The tears weren't there because of disgust or any negative feeling, you were crying because you were actually liking it. You knew your dad would kill you if he found out you consummated before marriage.

He was just there admiring your beauty as you threw your head back and moaned softly to his touches. He moved a bit away and stopped touching you as you looked at him. He was rummaging through his side table cupboard as he pulled out a vibrator. You were confused as you watched his click a button and put it into your pussy. "OH GOD-" you moaned and threw your head back.

He then took off his own clothes and started to rub his tip while watching you get off. "Need to get my dick wet myself because you're too dumb to do it for me." He tsked. He noticed how the area around her breast and her face had turned, there was drowsiness in her eyes. "M-my belly-" you moaned as he then stopped to pull the vibrator out.

"Please stop it heeseung... this isn't r-right" You whispered as his hands moved behind your head, and he grabbed your head by your hair. His lips were inches away from yours as he whispered. "I don't care." and there he was, pushing both of your hands above your head and pushing your legs wide apart.

You could feel it, all too much. Even the smallest of touch and the smallest sound in the nearest area, you could feel it all, hear it all. You closed your eyes tightly, slowly fighting the grip his hand had on your hands while he just slid his penis inside you, your faces inches away as a few more tears fell out of your eyes. "I hate you" You whispered out as you felt rippling pain with his soft motion. "D-DON'T!" Heeseung stares at you as you complain about the slight pain.

"Be a woman, Y/n." He whispered as he slowly started to move, taking his time and let the pain turn into pleasure. The moment it did change, it was too clear. You couldn't protest anymore as your hands moved to his shoulder, scratching and wanting him to increase his speed so bad but no word left your mouth except the moans.

"Fuck. this feels so good. so so good" he panted out like an excited child, but in a deep voice. You could feel the shivers on your back as you shook underneath him, letting your breasts bounce and jiggle with each and every hard thrust. Heeseung continued to pound into you senselessly, his eyes stuck on your breasts well it shifted to see your face twist into a pleasure-ful expression. "Gorgeous"

His hands were free now so they dived lower, rubbing your clit while he moved his hips graciously rubbing against THE stop. You felt these overwhelming feelings for the first time in your life, you knew you could just explode anytime and then there came the tickles in your belly. "My belly!" you gasped as you felt his pace increase, it was indicating your coming orgasm and well also how deep his dick was into you. It could be seen when he thrusted inside. "m-my god-"

"You're all mine now" he smiled, watching his cock create the bulge in your belly, proudly. He groaned when you clenched a little too hard on his dick. It twitched inside of you, as you felt him paint your insides white. That feeling broke your control too as you felt all of your tension and stress evaporate along with the "liquid".

You felt free, but little did you know by putting that small camera right in the correct corner... he might have changed everything, and made sure that you stay with him and only him.

[on-leatheredwings]

Dirty Laundry (18+)

Yandere! Dick Grayson x (Fem) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > Request: I think Dick would be a major creep and your rules didn't say anything about no nsft, so can I ask for a fic with this scenario: Dick stealing reader's underwear and using the dirty ones to get off while cumming into the clean ones. And putting the "clean" ones back into her dresser hoping she doesn't notice the stains and wears them? Thanks! > a/n: …………………………………… Ohhhh, so you’re crazy. Meaning, you’re just like me . thanks for the dick request i want to write him better/more ;u; had fun writing this! > tw: someone cumming in your panties without your consent or knowledge, so sexual assault. As well as yandere-typical thoughts and behaviors. > Word count: 1847 (Ugh this was supposed to be like 3 paragraphs max but i’m me.)

Dick’s your best friend. 

… You guess.

He was new to Blüdhaven, and you two just seemed to keep bumping into each other in the rare times you left your apartment. Might as well get to know the guy. You didn’t have much choice in the matter, once he attached to you. And that was okay, because you liked him back and, frankly, were in quite desperate need for friends. The man currently lounges on your bed, sifting through a magazine while you’re mixing audio for this indie rock cover band that’s commissioned you. That’s your side hustle and passion, when you’re not being a work-from-home researcher for S.T.A.R. Labs. 

You’re an hour into your work and Dick Grayson is lounging on his spot on your bed, because he has claimed a spot at this point. All is well with the world. Then, your stomach lets out a groan, and so do you.

A pair of eyes, all ocean blue and twinkling, slide over to you without a second’s hesitation. You meet them, unblinking and unperturbed. Does he know he’s kind of a freak? Being all light-eyed and adoring?

You stand up without fanfare, removing your headphones from your ears and letting them sit around the column of your neck.

“I’m going to get food from the place next door.”

You yawn and walk away from your desk. That usually was much harder for you, but Grayson’s presence in your life had made it more of a priority for you to care for yourself. “Don’t touch anything,” you say, plainly and without venom. Without another word, you’re gone, and Dick launches up from his seat once he hears the front door to your flat close.

He told himself he was going to do this today. He told himself, and he is a man of his word.

He opens the bottom drawer of your dresser, where he knows you keep your clean pairs of underwear. Then he trespasses into your closet, where he knows you keep your laundry basket.

Dick knows where a lot of things are in your apartment, and he has made it his job to know every inch of your bedroom specifically. When you leave the room, like times like this, he enjoys going around and familiarizing himself with everything. And he’s planted cameras, of course. He does leave your en-suite restroom alone, an act he pats himself on the back for. You deserved your privacy, after all. To his disappointment, you do tend to masturbate exclusively in the shower, and he must tide himself over with the audio his cameras pick up, rather than visuals.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dick buries his hands into your laundry basket. These were the things… you wore. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. Still, he had no time to waste. While often busy, the Chinese place you were at was also known for its fast service. Dick grabs the first pair of panties he sees: blue lace-trim, white in color, with blue gingham. You’re so cute. 

He sits in your closet, back to your hamper, slides off the jeans that look really good on him which he hopes you’ve noticed. All of these actions are done a little clumsier than normal because his pulse roars in his ears.

He lets his head fall backward, and he begins pumping his cock with your panties in that same hand. He thinks of your face, your body, your hands. He really likes your hands, so adept and amble, always flying across a keyboard or strumming a guitar. He thinks about the honest things you say, truthful but usually with tact. He thinks about your eyes crinkling when he’s being a show-off, and your pretty lips that you’re usually wetting with your tongue rather than finally just getting lip balm. 

At this point, Dick is a wreck, eyes glazed over and only half-open. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep them open. He goes slack-jawed, pink lips only a little swollen from his biting down on them. He’s about to finish, he knows he is. It’s building in him like the birth of a tidal wave. Pre-cum and his sweat have soiled your gingham pair, and he looks at the very plain pair of navy blue boyshorts in his free hand, clenched into a fist. He finds himself blushing. Your underwear is so… you, and it’s hilarious that holding them in his hand is what is flustering him so much. Considering what he’s doing.

Dick whimpers, a sound that’s both embarrassing and utterly liberating. Pleasure pulses in between his legs, his back shoots into an arch, his balls hike up to the base of his cock. He cums with a raspy cry, right onto the crotch of your boyshorts. He had initially planned to just finish anywhere on the fabric, but at the last second decided to cum where your cunt would touch. He’s kind of romantic like that. (He’s also kind of a pervert, and he knows that.)

He pants in the afterglow of his orgasm, cheeks painted over with rosy pink. He tosses your white pair back into its home, the laundry basket.

His calloused fingers reach up for the corner of his mouth, which had been agape this whole while. 

… Was he drooling? 

Dick robotically proceeds to rub his semen into your underwear until it's just a dark stain. He pulls his dark jeans from the pool of black denim they formed at his ankles, he runs his fingers through his hair at a job well done. He returns your boyshorts to your dresser, neatly folding them like all the rest. And finally, he wipes his mouth. He returns to your bed, and it’s like nothing has happened since you left.

Dick Grayson – Gotham pretty boy, badass superhero – should probably cringe; in any other context, isn’t that so lame…? But considering it was you, honestly, what could he have expected…

You come back into your bedroom, a bag of takeout swinging from your hands. His eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

… You simply have that effect on him. 

You stomp through his room until you’re right in front of him, where he pretends to be scrolling on his phone. Your arms are akimbo as you stare down at him, blocking your room’s overhead light with your skull and casting your shadow over him. He looks up and smiles cheekily.

“Alright, Dickard.” Dick’s lips quirk. “Get out. I’m going to shower and change.” Sniffing yourself on the way back, you decided it was high time you did. 

Dick’s brain goes a mile a minute. Shower. Change. Underwear? His heart skitters but he doesn’t show it. 

“Aw, don’t let me stop you. Feel free,” he teasingly sings.

Your eye twitches and you take it upon yourself to physically move him. Not that you could if he chose to actually resist. You know that he must be strong, stronger than ‘doing acrobatics as a hobby’ must make someone. You’ve caught a peek at his abdomen and biceps now and then. Guy is ripped. 

“Go eat,” you order, throwing the takeout into his hand. “I got enough for the both of us.” Why, Dick could twirl his hair and kick his feet right now – despite a prickly exterior, you really were a sweetheart, weren’t you? He refuses to have you pay for him though. He will definitely be returning the favor thricefold.

You successfully shoo the six feet tall model out of your room. 

Once he’s out, you take your shower, standing for five minutes in the spray until it grows warm. You think with amusement at the idea of movies and TV making women showering such a sexy, erotic scene. Bitch, you are in here scrubbing pots and pans. 

After the job’s done, your feet land on your worn shower mat from college, and pad towards your bedroom once more. You catch a towel on your way there, belatedly remembering that Dick Grayson may still be loitering in your bedroom, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of him seeing your private bits. Warily shifting eyes from behind the door, you see no one’s around.

Knock knock. 

“Are you done?”

Dick’s voice from the hallway makes you panic, fearful that he may burst in before you’re ready and presentable. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a woman while she’s getting ready in her boudoir!“ you yell, hoping some rich person’s instinct suddenly clicks in him. You thought rich men were supposed to be gentlemanly. Really, ever since meeting Dick, who is son to the richest man in the state, you’ve learned rich people all must be whiny, clingy, braggers, show-offs, and sometimes, just plain brats. In your hurry, you swipe a panty from your drawer and slip it on past your thighs. Body still damp from the shower, you don’t notice anything. 

The rest of your clothes follow, and you choose to sit back down in your desk chair. You turn back to your double monitor set up, ready to become a screen zombie once more when you remember someone’s waiting for you.

Without turning around, you holler, “Come in.” 

Without a moment’s pause, Dick reenters, takeout plated for the both of you in each hand. He places one smoothly in front of you with butler-like precision. 

“Your meal, madam,” Dick says in a Parisian accent, and you do smile in amusement. His eyes dilate, but you don’t notice.

“Thank you, my fine sir,” you return, a little embarrassed, accent weak, but willing to keep up the bit.

Dick knows not to disturb you too much while you work, so he wanders away as you slip your headphones over your ears once more. But before returning to His Spot on the bed, he quietly treads to your dresser. He sneaks a glance to make sure you’re still occupied. And you are, that blue wash of light painting your skin. 

He pulls out the drawer, and– hhhhh.

He heaves with breath involuntarily, although it’s nearly imperceptible. You do make him slip more than he likes, but he’s experienced. He glances once more to make sure you didn’t hear that, and of course you didn’t. You’re still fiddling in Ableton Live.

He shuts the drawer and stalks to His Spot on the bed, and anyone who knows Dick Grayson would see that he is tense. He is stiff.

And how could he not be? You’re wearing the underwear he had cum on. Did you notice? Is this your way of coming onto him? No, you’re too forward to play games… Something he finds both refreshing and a shame, because he loves games. You simply mustn't have noticed. Regardless, the knowledge fills him with such ecstasy and arousal… and longing. 

He eyes you discreetly as his skin reddens. He tries to act natural by eating steaming orange chicken, plucking it from his plate with a chopstick. One day, he’ll have you, in body and soul. 

Until then, he can entertain himself with this game, however one-sided.

[mrswint3rs]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐟𝟏𝟒𝟏 + 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 ❦

(fem reader)

Cw- manhandling, marking, unprotected sex, oral sex, subby konig, daddy kink (Price), use of pet names, face fucking, size difference, CNC (Ghost) ❦

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬 ❤︎︎

After a shit day, you’re the one thing he has to look forward to. He’ll take his anger out on you in whatever way he sees fit, knowing you’ll let him.

His hand tangles in your hair, pinning you down to whatever surface is nearby. Wall, bed, floor, doesn’t matter to him. As long as you writhe beneath him.

He loves hitting you, marking you just to see your face contort. And he absolutely can’t stand it when you pay visits to the other men. He knows he can’t own you, instead he’ll fuck you til’ the only thing you remember is his name, as well as the rest of the force since you’re so loud.

“Take it, conejito” he groans, stuffing your cunt over and over again despite practically shooting blanks. “This pussy belongs to me. Molded to fit me. Only I can make you shake like this, eh?”

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 ❤︎︎

He just likes to please you in general. Seeing you satisfied is what pleases him and he’ll drop to his knees in an instant. You’re in charge. (most of the time)

“Does that feel good, mein schatz?” he asks, mouth completely buried in your cunt. His face is a complete mess and he’s lapping up everything you offer like a starved puppy.

Hearing your whimpers and moans caused by him makes him go absolutely crazy. He’ll stroke himself through his cargos, tip leaking through the fabric. He doesn’t really care that much about getting himself off, it just feels good.

Either way, he does. When you suffocate him with your thighs, exclaim how good he’s doing, it completely breaks him into a whiney mess. He cums in his pants, not bothering to whip it out. You’re his focus, practically his goddess.

He’ll sit in it until you’re completely satisfied, til you can’t handle another orgasm.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ❤︎︎

He has a bit of a daddy kink. (don’t ask me why i think this. i just know.)

He loves missionary, simply because he gets to look into your teary eyes, watch your pretty tits bounce in delay from his thrusts. The way you hold eye contact makes him weak. Your eyes say so much about how his cock is making you feel.

“Cum for daddy, princess.” he urges, slamming into your sloppy pussy in repetition. “Hear how wet you are? All for your daddy, isn’t it.”

His calloused thumb circles your little nub, making you tighten and twitch as you near your end. “Cum for me,” he repeats softly to you.

“Make daddy’s cock a mess.”

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 ’𝐆𝐚𝐳’ 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 ❤︎︎

He just loves using your mouth. But he’s gentle with it.

He slips just the tip past your lips, letting you take it at your own pace. He hates making you feel uncomfortable.

“Easy, baby.” he croons, peering down at you with concern as you try to take him deeper. He doesn’t know where to put his hands so he plays with your hair.

Your tongue traces his length as you sink further down while your hand corkscrews the remainder and milking out his load into your mouth.

“You’re too good at that…” he moans out, struggling to catch his breath.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 ’𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩’ 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 ❤︎︎

Also likes using your mouth except he’s rougher. He’ll stand towering over you as you’re on your back, head hung level with his waist.

He’ll hold a hand to your neck, feeling where his cock reaches. He loves watching you struggling not to choke on it. Boosts his ego.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” he rolls his hips, jabbing in and out of your throat with no mercy, using you like a fleshlight.

He rapidly thrusts until you tap out. He wasn’t mean, of course he stopped when you needed a break. He sits you up for a minute to let you catch your breath and he’ll wait until you’re ready for him again.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 ❤︎︎

Has a major size kink.

He’ll fuck the life out of your smaller form, making you cry and beg for mercy. He loves it when you can hardly handle him.

“This is what you’re made for, love.” he says, girth stretching your poor hole to fit him. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, it’s so easy to force you into submission.

He traps you underneath his heavy weight, holding you down while you squirm. “C’mon take it for me. Quit fussin’.” he says sternly as if frustrated. But you both know it’s just for show.

You make him feel so good it’s unreal. He just likes to watch you try to wriggle away from him when you know can’t.

[hope-drunk]

BITE THE HAND

| you misbehave at an important event with abby, she puts you in your place.

| wc: ~3.7k

| cw: vague plot tbh, abby's a premed major, abby smokes cigarettes, punishment, brat!tamer abby, f!reader, spanking, edging, overstimulation, degradation, oral, fingering, strap usage (all r!recieving), mean!abby, praising, mentions of aftercare but not really a full scene of it, abby gets called mommy, lmk if i'm missing something

Abby’s really pissed off; she’s genuinely infuriated. You were embarrassing her; in front of  a lot of people who mattered. Important people, who determined what was going to happen with her future. She brought you to the banquet because she wanted to share this moment with you. She wanted to show you off to her peers and brag that you were supportive, and the best girlfriend that she could ask for, but you weren’t being supportive. 

You sit yourself down to sulk; spinning your straw around in your drink. You let out an agitated sigh. It’s boring here. Not only was it boring, Abby hasn’t paid attention to you the entire night. You thought that she was going to show you off, you even bought a new dress for this! But she didn’t seem to pay you any mind.

She seemed really interested in all the other people here though. From your point of view, Abby has spent the whole night bragging to them about her accomplishments. You’ve seen her arm get rubbed in amazement more times than you can count; it didn’t matter to you that they were just being friendly, that was your arm to rub. That was your girlfriend to praise. Every time you tried to insert yourself into conversation, Abby brushed you off. If she was already treating you like you were embarrassing her; you’d do it for real. 

Abby walks over to the table you’re sitting at. “Hey, can you get up for me? Want you to meet someone.”

You look up at her. “Oh, now you want to show me off?” 

“What are you talking about? Been trying to get you to meet people all night.” She puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it up and down; a signal for you to stand.

“I don’t want to meet anyone.”

She scoffs; puts her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose and squeezes. “Please, baby, I really can’t deal with this right now.”

“Fine,” You say, standing and lacing your arm through her’s.

You walk over to an older man in a tux. Abby smiles politely at him.

“Doctor Smith, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.” She says.

You shake his hand, trying your hardest to act like you want to be there. 

“So nice to meet you. You know, you have a rather impressive girlfriend. Miss Anderson is one of the best students I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, she does well to remind me.” You reply. You see Abby give you a look from the corner of your eye. The look isn’t a kind, loving one. The look says be fucking polite.

Luckily for you, the Doctor laughs and pats Abby on the shoulder. “She’s a firecracker, huh!”

“That’s one word for her.” Abby says. Now it’s your turn to shoot her a look, she ignores you, continuing her conversation with the Doctor. 

After they talk about the class that Abby is in, he says goodbye to you both, walking away to mingle.

“Come here,” Abby says. Before you can even ask her where, she’s yanking your arm and dragging you behind her.

You feel like a dog being yanked by the leash, her strong arms left no room to shimmy out of her hold; forced to go where she wanted. She pulls you into a family restroom and locks the door.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you? That was embarrassing!” You practically yell at her, placing your hands on your hips.

“Embarrassing? I’m embarrassing you? You’ve been a brat the whole fucking night, sitting there with a goddamn pout on your face.” Abby says back at the same volume. You’re sure if anyone walked by they could hear you, but neither of you seemed to care.

“I’m not being a brat, you’re not paying attention to me.” 

“That’s because this isn’t about you. I wanted to bring you here so I could show everyone how supportive you are; how much patience and love you show me even though I am so busy with work, but I guess they don’t get to meet that version of you!” Abby yells at you, clearly frustrated with your attitude and accusations.

You’re rendered silent. You guess you don’t know what you thought this was going to be, maybe you had a different idea of the evening than Abby did. You slowly start to realize that you may be in the wrong; that you may have created some narrative in your head that Abby was ignoring you when really, she was trying to include you.

Abby sees you thinking, “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Abby stands in shock, but she doesn’t let it show. She turns around and rubs a hand over her face. You’ve never apologized so fast. Usually it took a lot of coaxing to make you realize that you’ve done something wrong, but not this time. “Sorry for what?” 

“For– y’know,” you wave your hands around. Saying sorry was one thing, but you know what she really wanted from you; she wanted you to say you were being a brat; that you had been bad and embarrassed her.

“No, I don’t know.”

You whine, “Abby, you do know.”

“Listen, here’s what we’re gonna do; we’re gonna stay for thirty more minutes, and then we’re going to go home, and I’m gonna make you say why you’re sorry, alright?” 

Tears well in your eyes. Abby was relentless when it came to punishments. Even if you told her what she wanted to hear after the first ten minutes, there was no stopping her. It’s like she became a completely different person. With how mad she looked, you knew you were in for it tonight. Suddenly, you want to stay at the banquet, afraid of what will happen when you step foot into your joint bedroom. 

Abby watches as you fiddle with your hands, and despite how angry she was, she takes a deep breath and walks over to you. She lifts up your chin and plants a kiss to your forehead, reminding you that no matter how much you piss her off, she’ll never stop loving you. She walks out of the bathroom, swinging the door open and extending a hand behind her so that you would grab on. You quickly lace your fingers into her’s and let her pull you out of the small room. The rest of the time you’re there, you try your hardest to stay on your best behavior. This time, it’s harder, because you’re studying your every movement to make sure it won’t piss Abby off more; scared of what the girl would do to you if you kept acting up even after the talk. You do well the rest of the night though, and when Abby says her goodbyes, you cling extra hard to her arm; looking for comfort in the girl who’s about to put you in your place.

When you get into Abby’s car, she pulls her box of cigarettes out of her glove box; grabbing one and lighting it. A familiar pop song is playing on the radio, and there’s wind blowing through Abby’s cracked open window. 

She takes a long drag and looks over at you, “You know you can say stop at any time, right?” She exhales the smoke.

“Yeah,” you answer, meekly. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

The rest of the drive is silent. Abby finishes her cigarette and lights another one. You wish she would let you smoke one, but every time you ask, she gives you a lecture about how she wishes she never started and how bad they are for you. Since you were already in for a lecture about another thing; you figure it’s best to not ask her for one. She pulls into her spot at the apartment complex. Abby steps out of the car and comes over to your side, opening the door and offering a hand to help you out. You gladly take it; happy to soak up the last bits of nice Abby before she completely turns on you. She walks behind you as you go up the stairs to your door. She uses her key to unlock it, and you both walk in. Abby throws the keys onto the table that sits by the door.

“You know how I want you.” She says. It feels like her voice has already dropped lower.

You nod your head at her and walk into the bedroom, stripping off your dress and undergarments. You bend over the bed. Your legs kick up a few times, a nervous tick that only comes out in this situation. The waiting was brutal. You knew that Abby was in the kitchen preparing a glass of water and making sure the aloe vera gel was in the fridge so that when the punishment ended she’d be ready for aftercare, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in.

You hear Abby’s footsteps come closer and you fix your position; knowing it’ll only be worse if she catches you slacking. Abby sighs and rubs a hand up and down your back, it slowly starts to trail down to your ass.

“Do you know why you’re in trouble?”

“Yes,”

“Tell me why I’m punishing you.”

She grabs a handful of your ass and releases a few times; it distracts you for a moment. She pats it lightly to remind you of the question. “Was a brat, embarrassed you in front of your friends and teachers.”

“That’s right. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Always gotta act up when I need you to be good. The night could’ve gone so much different, huh baby?” Abby moves around the bed and squats down so that she’s face to face with you. She pouts when she sees the tears welling in your lower lash line. “Poor girl, now you gotta be put in your place. Can’t have you doing that again, right?”

You sniffle, “No,” 

“No,” she mocks. She takes a deep breath and stands, moving back to where your ass is in the air. “Gonna give you ten, alright?”

“Okay,”

She starts slow, rubbing up and down your ass again. She loves to work you up; loves to get your energy so high that you listen for every shift of her body. It works every time. After a while, you can’t help but become hyper aware of everything that’s happening in the room. Your back arches against your will; Abby’s movements turn you on although that’s not the point of them right now.

She scoffs, and lands the first smack to the right side of your ass. You yelp at the sting. She spanks you twice more on the same cheek before grabbing it harshly. You push your head into the bedsheets, letting your tears make a stain. She moves her hand to the left side, delivering three more hits to even out the punishment. Your tears were falling silently before, but now you can’t help but let out sobs at the pain on your ass. 

Abby pulls you up by the hair, forcing you to stop hiding. “You see what bad girls get? They get a spanked ass and no mercy from their mommy.”

“I’m sorry!” You wail. 

“You’re gonna be.”

She smacks the spot where your ass meets your thigh on both sides. You’ve always hated when she does this; you couldn’t sit comfortably in a chair for a few days when she hits that spot. She delivers two more hits to each cheek and steps back. She lets you cry for a bit and admires her work. She loves how easy it is to break you. She just has to tell you you’re a bad girl a few times and give you a couple of smacks and you’re apologizing; begging to show her how good you could be. That wasn’t enough for Abby though. She wanted you completely at her mercy. She wanted to turn your brain into mush so that you couldn’t even imagine ever being bad again. 

She decides she’s spent enough time looking at your backside and walks back up to you, flipping you over on the bed so that you were looking into her eyes. She doesn’t break eye contact as she shoves a hand down between your bodies, swiping a finger through your folds. You watch her pupils dilate as she realizes how wet you are.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” You don’t say anything in response, you’re not sure if the embarrassment or the fear took over, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to answer her. “You’re disgusting, you know that? Can’t believe you’re getting off on this. ‘Supposed to be a punishment.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

If Abby was good at one thing, it was making you embarrassed. You don’t even care though, because her finger is still running up and down your folds, gently touching your clit every once in a while. You try not to jump at the shock of electricity it sends through you when she touches it because you don’t want her to stop. Unfortunately, she catches on and removes her hand.

“Move up.”

You comply and go to the top of the bed. Abby stays close to you as she makes her way up too. It makes you feel so small; it makes you feel hunted. You sit up on your elbows once you’re at the top of the bed. She smooths her hand over your stomach and glaces down, looking at how your hips twitch every time she moves it lower.

“Want me to touch you, baby?”

“Yeah,” you say, basically a whisper.

“Think you deserve to be touched?”

A frown pulls at your lips, “No,”

She mirrors you and puts on a faux frown, “That’s alright, mommy’ll take care of you.”

Before you know it, Abby’s made a home between your legs and her tongue is diving between your folds. She laps at your cunt like it’s her last meal. You gasp at the sudden sensation and buck your hips, trying to grind on her face. Her nose hits your clit and you feel dizzy. The pleasure is too much. The punishment paired with Abby’s degrading words already had you reeling, and now you felt your headspace start to slip. Your ears feel stuffed with cotton as you whine at the strong girl below you. She licks a particularly sensitive spot and your thighs try to squeeze together, but her shoulders stop you. You put a hand on top of her head, trying to slow her down or reposition her, you weren’t sure at this point.

“Close– I’m close, mommy”

She hums into your cunt, but doesn’t give you permission. You whine, trying to remind her of your predicament while also trying to focus on not coming. You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge. The hand on top of her head is now trying to push her away. You didn’t want to come without permission, but you knew you would if she didn’t stop. Suddenly, Abby’s mouth is off of your cunt. You gasp; legs snapping closed at the ache that’s left behind.

You try your hardest not to say anything about the orgasm slipping away; knowing that Abby hates complaining. She had you believing you would be able to come for a split second. It felt like you could have reached out and grabbed it. 

“Bad girls don’t get to come.” Abby pants.

You start crying for what feels like the millionth time that night. Abby pushes your legs back open, inserting two thick digits into your weeping hole. You basically scream at the intrusion; sensitive from the ruined orgasm.

“So fucking easy to get you to be my good girl again, isn’t it? Just needed to be put in your place, didn’t you?” Abby says.

You’re not paying attention; head floating away from the amount of pleasure you’re getting from her fingers thrusting in and out of you. Abby grabs your face with her free hand, forcing you to look at her and focus on what she's saying.

“Dumb girl, get you all full and messy and you can’t even talk.”

The cruel words send a wave of arousal through you, and Abby smirks when she feels it.

You feel the knot tighten again, and your brows furrow; your mouth forms an ‘o’. Abby notices, watches you closely; sees how far she can push you before you break. Your mouth closes and you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting hard so that you focus on the pain from that and not your impending orgasm. Right when you feel the wave start to come, Abby pulls her fingers out of you, wiping them on your stomach.

“No!” You shout this time. 

Abby doesn’t even entertain you. She moves off the bed and goes to the closet, getting out the box that holds her black strap. As she puts it on, she watches you on the bed. You’re holding your tits for comfort as your legs shake. You have your eyes closed, and you’re taking big, deep breaths. Abby makes sure the strap is secure and walks back over to the bed. You open your eyes when you feel the bed dip down. You’re met with the thick silicone and you can’t help but gulp. Again, Abby watches your reaction. She’s always been a watcher, it’s what gets her turned on. Seeing the effect she has on you; how her words, her hands, her strap mess with your head in their own way. After you’ve been dating this long, she knows exactly how you’ll react to whatever she draws out, but she loves to watch you every time. 

“Gonna let mommy fuck you, baby? If you’re really good, I’ll let you come, okay?”

Before she’s even finished the sentence fully you blurt out, “Yeah, gonna let you fuck me.”

Abby laughs, “So desperate,”

She lines up the silicone cock with your hole and presses in gently. You’re already pretty stretched out from her fingers, and you’re certainly wet enough, but she still wants to be a bit gentle. She knows that the strap can sting sometimes; she also knows that you’ve learned your lesson by now. Once her hips meet yours, Abby lets out a grunt. Sometimes she feels like she can feel it; can feel how tight you’re squeezing her and how warm & wet you are. She knows the strap isn’t attached to her; knows that she can’t feel it, but that doesn’t stop her from pretending she can.

“Fuck, so tight, bunny.” She grunts out, edging the strap out before pushing it back in again, setting her pace. “Feels good, yeah?”

“Feels so good, mommy. So good.” You moan out.

Abby rearranges your limbs, putting your legs over her shoulders so she can make sure you really feel it all. You shiver at the new position, when Abby slides out and back in, she hits your g-spot perfectly. 

“Oh God,” you say.

Abby loses herself in your cunt. She’s not able to focus on anything other than how wet you are; how the strap thrusts in and out of you. She focuses on how badly she wants to make you come and how the strap has started to rub her clit perfectly. She uses a hand to grab your tit, squeezing it over and over again as she picks up her pace. This is another version of Abby. Long gone is the chivalrous Abby, and even punishment Abby. This Abby wants to make you come over and over again until you’re asking her to stop. She wants to please you until you’re sick of the pleasure. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Gonna make you feel so good now. Mommy’s not mad anymore. Just need you to come for me.” Abby says.

Your legs start to shake harder as your orgasm approaches for the third time that night. You feel it come closer and closer, threatening you. You’re scared to ask; not sure if Abby’s still playing games with you. 

“Really need–”

Abby cuts you off, “Go ahead, been so good for me.”

Her words allow the wave to crash into you. Your whole body shakes as Abby fucks you through your orgasm. Your head spins as you come back down to the room. Abby’s hips haven’t stopped once.

“Too much– can’t,” 

“Yes you can. You can, princess. You’re gonna come with mommy, okay? We’re gonna come together. Take a deep breath for me, there y’go. I’m almost there, just let me– fuck.”

Abby talks you through it, but also talks herself through it. If she knows you’ll come with her, she won’t be able to stop herself. She takes her eyes off of your cunt so she can watch how your face contorts at the overstimulation. She’s ready to tip over the edge and she sees that you are too. 

“Come, come now.”

You do as she says. Abby’s hips finally stop, the strap finds its home deep in your cunt, keeping you full while you spin out from your second orgasm of the night. 

Abby comes to first, she quietly mutters that she’s taking the strap out of you, knowing that you won’t be able to understand her anyway. You let out a small breath at the removal, and your legs fall down onto the bed. Abby massages your calf, and leans up to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Hi,” you mumble.

Abby smiles at you, “Hi, pretty.”

“Are y’still mad at me?”

“Nah, was never mad; could never be mad at you, sweet girl.”

You smile back at her. She gives your calf one last squeeze before getting off the bed. You whine; asking her where she’s going in your own blissed out way. 

“Gonna get you water, okay? Be right back.”

You nod and close your eyes. You shift and feel your ass sting. 

“Ow,” you whisper.

Although it does hurt, you’re happy to have a small reminder of Abby left on you. 

[binsito]

Kitty, what're your thots on pervy stepbro!skz? Cause just thinking about it has me going woozi (hehe)

AHHHHHHHHH (those are my thots)

cw: stepcest!!!!!!! dni if uncomfortable, i warned you. proceed with caution,

slight voyeurism/exhibitionism (or mentions of it), mentions of drinking, masturbation, dirty fantasies involving the reader, sex and oral sex (or suggestive scenarios involving it), slightttt noncon situations due to pervertedness, mentions of assplay, cum, all characters are adults who's parents got married later on in their lives (thought i'd clarify just in case). i think i hit the major ones, pls lmk if i missed anything super important

okay bye

bangchan: he is soo sweet. he's incredibly helpful around the house, always offering to clean the dishes after dinner. your mom absolutely loves him. he's perfect, minus his one dirty little habit of asking you to help with the chores. it's not like he needs the help, he just gets a little excited when he sees you bend down to pick something up or go through the laundry because he gets a peek of your pretty thong.

'two of us get things done quicker' he usually says, and of course you don't mind helping him, he's fun to talk to and you also have to carry some of your own weight if you're going to keep living with your mom while attending college.

'i'll treat you for helpin' out' but what he really wants to say is he'll fuck you up against the laundry room's door. couldn't you get the hint? his cock was always rock hard around you, it was painfully obvious. couldn't you hear him through the walls fisting himself while you were both home alone? he didn't care to be quiet at all and he knew you were just choosing to be oblivious.

he was so good! why couldn't you just reward him? he mows the lawn, cooks if he has to, throws out the trash. the least you could do was give your sweet stepbrother your mouth to use around his cock after a long day of hardwork around the house!

and he hates the way you're licking the ice cream he got you for helping. hates the way you look at him and giggle because he knows you know what you're doing to him.

minho: he was bored out of his mind at the wedding reception for your parents. at least his dad was happy for once.

he glanced over and watched you order a drink from the bar, sipping it as you looked towards him. he quickly looked away and chuckled to himself, hoping you didn't notice how his eyes trailed down as he checked you out in your pretty dress. would it be disrespectful to put moves on his new stepsister?

he could ask you to dance, right?

he made his way over to you and leaned against the bar, smiling towards you.

"could i have the pleasure of dancing with you?"

you giggled at him and waved him off, explaining to him that you were to shy to dance.

"well then let's go somewhere private where no one can see us?"

the implications of his words made you flustered. this was your step brother now. did he mean his words in that sense or were you reading into it too much?

(he definitely meant his words suggestively.)

his eyes basically undressing you as you swallowed thickly. he could take you to the family restroom and no one would even know the two of you were missing.

he could easily slip past the huge blend of both families and fuck you outside behind all the cars.

he could make you hold his cum the whole night until your parents went their separate way to their honeymoon together. you could have the whole house to yourselves, fuck on every surface imaginable and no one would ever have a clue.

changbin: he's normally shy, very respectful. very gym oriented - going as far as setting up all his equipment in the garage with your dad's permission. you were interested in his work out routine, asking him if you could join him one day.

he didn't know why that made him so flustered, sputtering while he talked to you and letting you know it was perfectly fine that you used his stuff and joined him. you were surprised how disciplined he was, how heavy he could lift. he was trying hard to keep his composure, trying hard to push down the thoughts he was having of you spotting him.

the idea of you basically straddling his head while he benched was making him see stars. or what if he had you bench press? what if he was the one straddling your head, having you look up at him and see how his cock protruded from his gym shorts, the obvious outline giving away how hard he was.

what if he had you do russian deadlifts, coming up behind you to help with your form, cock brushing up against your ass while he tried explaining how to position yourself properly.

all changbin wanted to do was hold you open over him while he laid on the bench, licking at your cunt eagerly. all he wanted was to take you from behind while you tried to finish doing cable tricep pushdowns.

keyword on tried because he wanted to make sure he'd leave you dumb enough to even forget what number set you were even on.

hyunjin: hyunjin started to catch feelings well after your parents got married, you two just clicked, friendship quickly burning into something so much more.

but he knew you probably wouldn't feel the same, would probably be grossed out by him if he told you he loved you. he didn't want to ruin the family dynamic so he kept his feelings harbored deep within himself.

but his heart absolutely shattered when you brought another boy home, begging him to not tell your mom because you weren't sure if she'd approve of him.

all his hope of maybe one day confessing to you was thrown out the window. did he read you wrong? he could've sworn that maybe there was something there..

and he couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning as he heard you through the walls, giggling with that other guy and hushing him. warning him that although your parents weren't home - hyunjin was.

but the hushes and scolding did nothing because hyunjin could still hear everything clearly. how you kissed him sloppily, how the bed shifted when he climbed on top of you, how you gasped out when he pressed his cock inside of you.

hyunjin closed his eyes tightly and to save himself from his misery, he pretended it was him between your legs, his hand reaching down to touch himself as he listened in on the both of you. he pretended it was his name that you were chanting. he took note of the pitches of your moans, how they got higher when you were about to cum, how breathy and incoherent you became.

he would do anything to see how your face twisted with pleasure.

at least he could pretend to be the one to bring you to your peak whenever he heard you through the walls.

jisung: living with jisung was definitely something to get used to. unfortunately with the sudden growth of your new family, there was not enough space for both of you to get your own room. you'd be sharing a space until your parents found an adequate place.

jisung didn't mind but you clearly did. having to share the en suite bathroom in the mornings was a challenge.

why did he have to take so long in the damn bathroom?

"jisung! c'mon i'm gonna be late, can't you please hurry up!?"

he always managed to beat you to the bathroon, always waking up early to start his day.

what you didn't know is he was taking care of his aching cock in the shower, fisting himself to the image of you sleeping soundly. he had gotten bold lately, picking the sheets carefully off your body to get a peek at your body, tugging your sleeping shorts to the side to reveal your panties, moving them aside to finally be met with your cunt.

how was it so wet?

could he give it a lick?

he didn't want to be caught.

rubbing himself through his shorts until he couldn't take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to chase his release.

felix: he knew he shouldn't but he just couldn't help it.

watching you from his bedroom window inconspicuously as you tanned by the pool in your backyard. you looked so pretty, so unaware that he was jerking himself to the sight of you in a skimpy bathing suit. that dumb bikini top leaving little to the imagination, it wasn't your fault you didn't want annoying tan lines. he watched intently as you turned face down in the lounge chair, reaching behind you to untie the straps of your bikini top so they wouldn't leave a pesky mark. you were basically naked, your tits were basically on display for him, couldn't you just sit up and show him? flash him really quickly so he could finish in his hand?

it was torture - having to watch you from afar when he wanted to be down there with you. would you quickly cover up if he were to go join you? or would you barely acknowledge him and continue to enjoy the sun? would you ask him to reapply sunscreen on you? would you let his hands wander, trailing down to your ass to massage them? would you protest if he pulled your thong down or would you let him play with your ass a little?

he wanted you bad.

spurting cum all over himself and making a mess as he let out a loud groan, it must've been loud enough for you to hear and look up from your spot, making eye contact with him through his blinds.

goddammit.

seungmin: your mom wouldn't let you go out to that dumb frat party unless seungmin tagged along and drove you there.

you agreed because you didn't want to lose the opportunity to go talk to that football player you had the hots for.

seungmin thought it was funny, watching you fix your makeup one last time in his car's mirror. there was nothing to fix, you looked perfect in his humble opinion.

he knew you wanted to go to this party because of that guy, he wasn't fond of him at all. you were too good for him and in all honesty, seungmin wanted you for himself.

he wanted you to be his but it was complicated given the fact that your mom was married to his dad.

his advances didn't go unnoticed when he laid his hand on your inner thigh as he drove. impulse thoughts racing through his mind - what if he just turned around right now and took you in his backseat? he wanted to make you forget about that stupid jock.

"minnie?" snapping him out of his thoughts at a red light.

"you're quiet." you choose to say instead of bringing attention to the obvious hand on your thigh

"sorry, just thinking about the one hundred ways i could fuck you and how it would be so much better than that guy you're pining after." he speaks up, driving towards a turn lane to make a u-turn.

jeongin: he always thought you were pretty.

he had seen you around campus but was always too shy to approach you. how would he even start a conversation with you. when his mom told him she had found someone new, he was excited for her but the last thing he ever expected was for the 'someone' to be your father.

you, the girl he so helplessly daydreamed of was soon to be part of his family.

he didn't know if this was a blessing or a curse.

could he push down all the thoughts he's had of you or would he fail miserably. how was he ever supposed to tell you he liked you now?

when your families decided to spend the holidays together, he knew he was going to struggle. cock hard in his slacks as he watched you reapply some lip gloss that had gotten wiped as you drank wine and talked to people.

he felt hopeless.

he decided that socializing would be too much for him in this state of mind so he snuck upstairs, finding his way into your room.

there was a picture of you on your vanity, a pretty bow adorning your hair as you smiled widely. jeongin wanted to make you smile like that, wanted to tell you how gorgeous he thought you were but soon his thoughts became dirty, imagining how he wanted you to smear your lip gloss all over his shaft, peppering his cock with delicate kisses.

he shoved a hand into his pants and pulled his cock out, stroking it gently as he grabbed the photo with his free hand.

fuck, you were perfect to him.. the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

his brain became foggy, only thinking about you and you only as he pumped himself-

"jeongin?" you stood at your door, he nearly jumps out of skin, pathetically cumming all over your photo, face burning hot as he looks over at you.

oh fuck, how was he ever going to live this down? how would he even explain this predicament?

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 22: Santa Shenanigans

Steve was going to kill Robin.

Well, not really because he doesn't think he'd survive more than a couple days without her. But he'd certainly be giving her the stink eye next shift for suggesting a secret Santa between the older ones of the party.

"We just rog it so that I get Vickie and she'll fall madly in love with me, it's a perfect plan Steve!"

To her credit it was an ok plan.

"Last week you spent an hour bemoaning the fact that she smiled at a boy."

"But yesterday she spent two hours studying with me in the library!"

Steve rolled his eyes at her shenanigans but agreed nonetheless. They drew names the next time they had all gone out for burgers at the diner. Steve tried not to make it obvious when he saw who his name was. Eddie.

Steve wasn't disappointed, no, far from it, he'd been hiding a crush on the older boy for a few months now, let's just say Eddie spent a lot of time by Steve's pool last summer. But now he felt the pressure to get him the perfect gift. The plan hadn't even worked for Robin.

"I got Argyle! Now how will I win her heart."

"Could always plant some mistletoe."

"You're a genius! Who'd you get."

"It's Secret Santa, Rob's, it's meant to be secret."

"Boo you're no fun, bet it's me."

It took Steve weeks to finish his gift for Eddie and Steve found himself hastily wrapping it the morning of their little Christmas party, grateful that Robin had thought of the plan well in advance otherwise he'd have never finished.

Steve greeted everyone and watched as they placed their secret Santa gifts under the tree. They ate, laughed and picked a Christmas movie to watch after presents. One by one they opened their gifts.

Nancy got Vickie some water colour paints.

Argyle got Jonathan rolls of fresh film.

Jonathan got Nancy some new notepads with larger covers.

Robin got Argyle a big bright tie dye shirt with Groovy printed on the front, he quickly put it over the sweater he was already wearing.

Vickie turned to Robin and Steve quickly saw her cheeks start to redden. She passed her the gift and Robin unwrapped a bag full of pins and badges.

"I've been collecting them for a few weeks for you from around town and around where I went to visit my grandma, thought your work vest needed some more fun ones."

Robin grinned widely at Vickie, the effort making a big impact on her. Steve knew he'd be hearing about it for weeks but he hoped the mistletoe in the kitchen sped things along.

Steve was about to give Eddie his gift when he realised that this meant Eddie also got him for Secret Santa. He turned to the metalhead to find him already shyly holding out a gift.

"It's not much but I hope you like it, Stevie."

Steve unwrapped the small package to find a collection of mixtapes inside, Eddie's handwriting clearly scribbled on the side.

"I started making a mixtape of songs that made me think of you but U ran out of room on the first one and might've gotten carried away," he said shyly scratching his neck.

Steve glanced over the names of the songs and it was clear that the majority of them certainly wouldn't remind someone of their dear platonic friend. Steve smiled softly at him and passed him his gift.

"I think I know what you mean."

Eddie slightly confused at the statement unwrapped the gift, his mouth forming a small o looking inside. He took out the book, a worn copy of The Hobbit that Steve had thrifted as soon as he knew Eddie was his secret Santa.

"Stevie, you know I've got this one, it's my favourite," he said slightly awkwardly.

"Look inside."

Eddie slowly opened the book to see small dribbles of ink between the words. The handwriting clearly Steve's. As he flicked through he saw Steve's thoughts spilling into almost every page.

"It's your favourite and you're always wanting me to read it so I did, I thought it'd be fun if you saw exactly what I thought of it."

Eddie's eyes caught on one of the words near the end, a small red shape next to them, yeah, he thinks he and Steve are on the same page, but he'd wait until the end, no spoilers early after all.

"I love it, Stevie, thank you."

As Steve sat curled up next to Eddie on the couch watching the film he too had the same thought, definitely on the same page.

Ao3

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Vash and Femininity: Trigun Stampede and its Themes of Bodily Autonomy, Exploitation, and Vague Gender Fuckery

alright sit the fuck down. we're gonna talk about THEMES

I was on Twitter- terrible idea usually, but a couple people I follow made some tweets that got me thinking about Trigun's overall themes, and here we are. So let's talk about some themes in Tristamp! And I'll take a couple looks at Trimax as well, just for fun :3

Let's look at how the showrunners utilize gender roles and exploitation of feminine characters to show how unhealthy Knives' obsession with his ideal of Vash is, and how horrific his exploitation of Vash and the Plants is.

Vash, from the beginning of Tristamp, is someone who cares about people's choices. When people kill others in front of him, he reiterates that whether someone lives or dies is not another person's choice to make. This is something he learned from Rem (a prominent female figure in his life). He refuses to kill people because that is not his choice to make. To kill someone is the ultimate removal of their bodily autonomy. They can no longer make any choices at all; they're dead.

Vash is also someone who has almost no choice in what path his life takes. He's constantly dragged around by outside forces, namely situations that are caused by Knives (which we'll get into later). Vash doesn't make things happen, things happen to Vash. The majority of events that occur are not his fault. He's pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. His entire life is completely out of his control.

This can be seen as early on in his life as the Fall, something he had no control over and had no idea he even had a part in. Even later, in the ship with Luida and Brad, after he's been rescued from the desert, he's kept in handcuffs right up until he's shown to be of use to them and the Plant on their ship. After that, he could theoretically say "no, I don't want to go to other ships and heal their plants," but he doesn't. He's Vash. He's helpful and nurturing at his core, and these people have done so much for him just by letting him stay, so he'll do whatever they ask, no question.

This carries over into his adulthood. At Jeneora Rock, he goes to look at their Plant at one simple request, doesn't protest when he's dragged into a duel-- he doesn't take initiative unless someone's life is immediately at stake. He lets people tell him what to do and lets himself get dragged around by the wrist. He doesn't even pretend to have control over his life like Trimax Vash does, which I mean. Fair. Why pretend to have a grip on your existence when it's impossible to do anything without a gun pointed at your head?

Vash is a very passive character. He's nurturing, kind, gentle- he's a guy that fits a lot of very typical feminine character stereotypes. If you wrote this same story but made him a woman, I wouldn't bat an eye (but I would definitely be looking at it a lot more critically, what with the amount of stereotypically nurturing/motherly female characters in media already.)

This contrasts directly with Knives. He makes a decision and carries through no matter what stands in his way. He takes initiative. If Vash is a passive character, Knives is an active character. Wherever he goes, he leaves a lasting imprint. He makes shit happen! If outside forces make things happen to him, he'll go out of his way to make sure that particular force doesn't affect him again.

These two tweets I saw are what got me thinking about this originally. I just feel like here's a good place to put them as a segue into talking about episode 11.

Episode 11 is where a lot of this feminine imagery really just. Explodes in your face. IT'S RIGHT THERE. You can't dance around it if you try. And it kind of reaches a peak when the connection reaches 100%, the gate opens, and. well. THIS happens to the Plants.

Plants, in both Trimax and Tristamp, are almost always typically feminine-looking. Knives and Vash are the only two who are male or even masculine at all. Knives, as the most masculine out of all of them, is the one trying to take charge, and mould the world as he sees fit, to a degree that is detrimental to both him and everyone else. And Vash-- passive, feminine, kind and nurturing, whose Angel Arm in the manga always sprouts decidedly feminine-looking Plant parts-- is the one being exploited for Knives' plans. It's no mistake that they made the giant plant formation at the end of ep 11 look like a giant woman that almost resembles Rem.

Vash wants people to make their own choices and keep their autonomy when it comes to their bodies and lives. Knives is the exact opposite. He wants all Plants to become independent and he uses Vash to achieve that goal, without asking what Vash wants or even knowing what the Plants themselves would prefer. He exploits Vash for the soul purpose of trying to make these Plants have Independent Plant babies. He's completely incapable of seeing that his choices are not for the greater good! He thinks he's saving them, but none of his actions are for the good of anyone but himself. He’s just violating them for his own gain.

They're really leaning into gender roles for these guys, but in a way that screams "HEY, LOOK AT THIS! ISN'T IT FUCKED UP? LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. LOOK AT THIS, AND BE UNCOMFORTABLE, AND KNOW THAT IT IS FUCKED UP."

Because it is! It's so extremely fucked up. They're using this imagery and these roles, something that makes most of us intrinsically uncomfortable, to drive home how unhealthy Knives relationship with his ideal of Vash is. That's the point. We're supposed to be uncomfortable with this.

Now of course there's some nuance to it. Like, you could see Knives as somewhat of a feminine and/or queer-coded figure as well, ESPECIALLY if you look at some of his panels in the manga, which could in turn lead to themes about infighting and control within marginalized communities, but that might be something for another post. :3

And there's definitely different ways you could take this! Vash, with all this feminine imagery, could be either transfem or transmasc coded, depending on what way you'd rather see it, which could lead into themes of how people outside the norm constantly face a lack of bodily autonomy and are exploited for purposes outside their boundaries. We could also look at Wolfwood and his lack of choice over joining the Eye of Michael and becoming the Punisher, and how masculine men (particularly men of colour) are often forced into violent roles against their will. If we look at Trimax, the exact same could be said for Livio/Razlo and people with disorders such as DID/OSDD.

There are many different ways you could spin these themes, some of which I don't feel personally qualified to discuss. If anyone who is qualified to talk about Wolfwood or Livio/Razlo or even other characters related to these themes, then god PLEASE add onto this post or make a post and tag me or something. I would love to read it!

Anyway, in conclusion: Vash is a feminine figure constantly taken advantage of and exploited and and he's so incredibly trans/nonbinary-coded that it drives me insane. Thank you

[alimaybankkk]

sunshine

summary: jj never really thought of loving a girl before. it was always a hit and run, but you were something else.

warnings: fluff. that’s literally it. like major fluff

pairing: jj maybank x innocent!routledge!fem! reader

————————————————————————

you were outside of the chateau, chilling in your yellow sundress when you heard his voice.

“hey, y/n,” jj said, sitting down next to you.

you grinned, tying a knot on the bracelet you were making. “hi, jj.”

he looked at you in deep thought for a moment, noticing it was the first time he ever loved the way his name was said.

“is john b here?” he asked.

you didn’t let your smile fade, although you were pretty bummed. you wished he’d come to see you, but you shrugged. “i don’t think so. wanna hang with me for a little bit?”

he looked like he was thinking, but he eventually shook his head. “i’ll just come back later.”

he wanted to stay with you. in fact, he needed to stay with you. but the thought of loving someone the way he loved you was terrifying. especially if it was his best friends little sister.

he stood, starting to walk but you followed after him. “well, where are you going?”

he shut his eyes as he stopped in his tracks. “home.”

you shook your head. “jj, can you stay with me? i’m bored.”

he shook his head. “i got work to do, princess. maybe another time.”

you suddenly looked at him with puppy dog eyes, gripping his bicep. “please?”

he bit his lip. damn, if he knew how to say no to you, he would have done it. but he didn’t. he grabbed your hand and took you back to where you were sitting earlier.

“pick a color, jj,” you said, putting your old bracelet off to the side.

“um,” jj thought. “i don’t know.”

“come on, j, just pick one!” you rested your head on your knees.

“um,” he said, looking around. his eyes fell on your dress, which he loved a lot, but was too nervous to say. “yellow.”

you looked up. “like the sunshine, right, j?”

he sighed. “yes, princess, like the sunshine.”

“it’s very warm today. i was tanning earlier. look how much sun i got,” you said. you showed him your arm after gathering a few different strings to put together.”

jj smiled. “cute.”

“so, what did you need my brother for?”

he shrugged. “pogue stuff.”

“i’m a pogue,” you muttered. “why can’t i know?”

“because, honey, it’s secret.” he brushed it off like it was nothing, but you wanted to cry.

your hair was in a half up half down style, one that jj had never seen before on you, with your ends blown out and complimenting your hair color. you noticed he was looking at your hair, which gave you an idea.

“j,” you said, rummaging through your bookbag. “can you tie a bow?”

he shrugged, catching sight of the yellow ribbon you threw onto the grass. “sure, princess, i can.”

“tie one into my hair, please.”

he sighed and you turned around. jj wanted to hold you close to him and cuddle you, but he had self control. he looped the ribbon around the ponytail at the top and began tying as you leaned your back against his chest.

“you’re making it hard for me to tie, here, princess.” he chuckled, having to restart. he had goosebumps from how close you were.

you almost fell asleep. “you’re comfortable, jj.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to leave a trail of kisses from your ear down your neck.

“done,” he said, starting to twirl a few strands as he waited for you to get off of him. “you can sit up now.”

“no,” you shook your head and forced him to lay down, cuddling up to him.

“come on, princess, sit up,” he said, tapping your hip.

“j, i’m comfortable. please?” and for the second time in five minutes, you looked at him with the puppy dog eyes.

he sighed, pushing your head back onto his chest. “remember how john b said you were off limits when you turned 13?”

“yeah? and you said never in a million years would you want me?” you asked.

he winced. he regretted those words every day, wishing he could go back and take them away. “yeah. yeah, that time.”

“what about it?”

“nothing. take a nap, princess. you’ll get even more tan.” he said.

“okay.” you agreed and fell asleep.

* honestly, jj felt like a creep. he’d watched you sleep for at least thirty minutes, but he couldn’t help it. he loved the way your chest rose and fell slowly. but mostly, he loved that you even smiled in your sleep.

jj’s legs were starting to cramp. he couldn’t move without waking you, but he didn’t have a choice. your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, startled.

“‘m sorry, princess.”

you smiled an ‘it’s okay.’ and sat up. he followed, starting to realize how sweaty he felt. he brushed it off and took a sip from the water bottle that was there.

“jj, that’s mine,” you told him and grabbed it back, drinking it until it was gone.

“someone’s thirsty,” he commentated and jabbed you in the hip.

you giggled, throwing the water bottle at him. “i got to get back to my bracelet,” you said to yourself and went away at knotting .

he watched you contently for five whole minutes before saying, “do you still love the stars?”

you froze. it was something dumb you’d told him when you were eight. you never had expected him to remember, but you nodded. “yeah.”

he grinned, thinking of how cute you would be on a blanket pointing to the little dipper.

“wanna watch them with me tonight?” he asked. he bit his lip, waiting for your answer.

your smile grew wider. “okay.”

he slapped your back, chuckling. “it’s a date then.”

you turned around and have him a thankful look that he wished he could take a picture of in the moment and look at every second of his life.

“jj,” you said, looking past his shoulder. “john b’s back.”

jj would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset. he was bummed that it was no longer the two of you. he was upset that there probably would not be another cuddle session that evening.

to be honest, he’d only realized his feelings for you a few years ago. at least, he’d recognized them. he’d always felt the same about you, but only around three years ago did he realize it was love.

you had loved him knowingly since the first time he held your hand on the way to school while john b walked beside him, defending you from the bigger and meaner kids at school.

you’d always had that puppy love for him.

and he’d always had that puppy love for you.

“right.” jj said back, standing and approaching john b.

he turned around. “stars at my house, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, gripping the grass and ripping a few blades out.

* jj had set out a few pillows and a blanket on the roof of his house. he was quite comfortable on his own, snuggling up into the pillows he slept with every night. he couldn’t get over the fact that soon he would be able to lay his head on a pillow that smelt like you.

after a few minutes of listening to the crickets, he heard footsteps. “jj?”

he sat up and peaked over the edge of the roof. “shh, princess, don’t go inside.”

he watched you look up at him, smiling as you locked eyes with him. your eyes reflected the moon and the stars. they looked no different from how they usually did. well, maybe they did; jj usually saw the whole world in them.

“jj, i can’t get up there,” you whined. he climbed down the ladder and grabbed your hands, smiling at you.

“hi,” he said.

“hi.”

he ordered you to go on his back and you climbed there, fighting your fear of heights. he climbed the ladder with no problem, placing you gently on the fort he’d made. you leaned back and laid down as he laid down next to you.

jj knew how small he made the little circle. he wanted to be as close as possible to you. you loved it, too.

“oh, baby, your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said, mentally kicking himself for the pet name.

and you mentally kicked yourself for almost fainting at the nickname. he’d never called you that before. “what did you say?”

“i said… i said your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said nervously.

“before that.”

he hesitated. “baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, turning to face him. “i liked it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he helped you sit up as you leaned against his chest and he retied your ribbon for the second time today.

“i like your hair like this, baby.” he said, smiling as you shivered at the nickname.

“thank you,” you said, leaning your head into his neck.

he nodded and kissed your forehead.

what are we? he thought, resting his chin on your head.

you were looking at the sky through the side of your eye and you launched your finger out. “venus.”

“what, baby?” he asked, his attention being drawn back to you.

“i can see venus.” you pointed. he followed your gaze but didn’t see anything. he pretended he did.

“very beautiful, princess.” he said. just like you, he thought.

you nodded, turning back to him and reaching into your pocket of the shorts that were under your dress.

you pulled out a yellow chevron bracelet. the one that you had not finished before he left. it warmed his heart to know that you had not stopped thinking about him when he left.

“you got a gift for me, don’t you, routledge?” he asked, not accidentally holding your hand for a little too long when he grabbed it out of your hand.

“like the sunshine,” you told him, pointing to the yellow.

he grinned. “just like the sunshine, princess.”

“i would love some sunshine right now,” you said.

“i have some,” jj blurred out without thinking.

you raised an eyebrow. “how?”

he couldn’t go back now. “in a way, baby, you are my sunshine.”

you grinned, your face lighting up. he knew the sun was your favorite star in the sky ever since you were eight .

“i’m your sunshine?”

“my sunshine.” he told you, cuddling close to you. “if i’m upset, you make me feel better.”

you didn’t even think about it, but you gave him a kiss. on the lips.

it was something you did a lot—kiss him—but it was usually just on the forehead or on the cheek.

he froze. you sat up. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

but he smashed his lips against yours, drowning you in passion and love.

“i love you, baby.” he told you.

“i love you, too, jj,” you said, smiling wide.

“oh and this bracelet reminds me…” he started, reaching into his pocket. he pulled out a neckless. it was made with clay beads, a type of bead you enjoyed.

it was yellow.

“i made it for you.” he told you as he adjusted it onto your neck.

* a/n: so fluffy

part 2? idrk