#totes not a repost or anything

[ctntduotism]

happy yuriween or wtv

comms open 🩸

[gladiatorcunt]

- MOLTEN LAVA CAKE / IV.

when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man

cw: kinktober prompt (creampie), unprotected sex & playing fast and loose with it’s possible consequences, yandere behavior, age gap (reader 20’s, capitano & zhongli 50s, baizhu 40s), power imabalance, non con somno (childe), dub con, innocence kink & lowkey medical malpractice (baizhu), reader has a pussy, implied kidnapping (capitano), if you squint childe & capitano’s sections are connected, frequent breeding kink type talk, manipulation & coercion, implied baby trapping, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

CEO!Zhongli

“Do be quiet, darling.” Zhongli grits, cupping your head with both of his palms and tugging you upwards. “I have no intentions of being an exhibitionist today.”

You arch off his grand wooden desk and gasp at the spark of pain in your neck, but you’d take that over drowning yourself in paperwork any day. Your boss’s cock is ramming into your ass at a porn star’s speed, the wet smacks of flesh slapping against flesh bounce off the one way glass walls.

This situation is the most cliché porn plot in the book though, the distant slightly emotionally unavailable boss bending his secretary over his desk and zipping down their pants. You had been running late that day, you forgot to set your alarm for Mr. Zhongli’s breakfast tea run and you had less cat food than you thought so you had to make a break for the grocery store.

By the time you scrambled in with a steaming cup of your boss’s favorite tea and his stack of reports to review and meeting requests to schedule, the older man was tapping his foot and crossing his arms. He didn’t look disappointed, not quite, but the gentle warmth in his eyes was gone and his small smile was flat.

In your desperation not to lose your job, this was your first and you’re only in your junior year of college, you follow him into his office and set down your things. Your cherry Marc Jacobs tote bag (bought by him, his papers and tea (bought by you with his money), your SINOCULTURAL orchid leather handbag (also bought by him, for variety).

Zhongli wasn’t the kind of pervy boss who’s hit on you before, you guess now that he was just lying in wait. You were the one that draped yourself over his desk with tears in your eyes, desperate and naive and relying on the principle of ‘sex sells’.

He’ll draft up a different beginning to your love story at your wedding.

“You take cock so well, perhaps we’ll have to have a discussion about adding this to your list of duties, hm?”

The condom sliding in and out of your walls makes you want to pout, but you know he has to have one. How he was able to pull a pack from his desk drawer on the spot is beyond you, you’re not quite willing to admit that you’d be so willing to keep your job you’d risk a baby and/or STDs.

“A-ah! Y-yes, sir, whenever you’re available, i-i’ll do anything.” You whisper over your shoulder and push your ass up, wanting the sight of his long cock disappearing under the thick cheeks to be as enticing as possible.

You clutch onto the golden plague bearing his esteemed name for dear life, muffling your sounds into the furniture’s lacquer, and let your boss pour all his stress into your holes. You tried to goad him into taking your ass but he gave you an amused chuckle and a firm pat to each cheek, chiding at you that he’d do it properly another time. He’s a gentleman under his silvered tongue and all his golden scales.

Zhongli seems to get fed up with the condom the closer he gets to his roaring orgasm, and all you’re able to let out in a punched squeal as he sharply pulls out and rips the condom off.

“This damn thing,” He huffs, snarling as he tosses the shredded scraps of plastic to the side, sinking back into your pussy in one go. “There, much better.”

You’re discovering that Mr. Zhongli is not the kind of man who groans unabashedly in the heat of the moment, he's prone to contented sighs and easy laughs. The closest you get to anything animalistic is the guttural grunt he lets slip as you clench around him near the end of his deep thrusts, milking him for all the cum this HR nightmare of a quickie can get you.

“One more thing before you go, be a dear and clean that up for me.” He points a black nail down at the puddle of cum expectantly, somehow having pulled his cock free with a wet flopping noise when you were too dizzy to notice, sinking back into his swiveling chair.

Sugar Daddy!Capitano

Your back hits the hotel wall, softened by Capitano’s hands coming to slide in between you and the surface.

“Mmfh- I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.” You shyly admit as your sighs fade into whimpers, the man’s stubble rubbing on your neck during his rain of kisses.

He laughs and his hot breath hits your pulse point, your heart skips a beat. “So you’ve told me. Don’t worry, you’re nothing but safe with me. I’ve already wired the initial 50,000 for our first meeting to your account, we don’t have to do anything that you are not comfortable with.”

You nod and run your fingers through his black hair, offering up more of your unmarked neck. Of course you’re comfortable, you were so nervous you could die hours earlier, but your first sugar daddy experience has turned out to be the ideal. Capitano made sure you were happy and pliant, offering ten times the amount of what most other men would just for this one dinner. What wouldn’t you be down with doing now?

He nips at your bottom lip, wrapping his burly arms around your chubby thighs and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and giggle as you fall onto the bed of the hotel’s presidential suite. You trade sloppy and clumsy kisses for less and less articles of clothing, he places your jewelry and your accessories neatly on the nightstand.

“So you don’t prick yourself or worry about losing them, bambi.” He explains and pulls you into another syrupy kiss.

You lose yourself to fit of giggles as he reverently kisses down your body. The next hour is spent with your new sugar daddy licking your pussy, eating you out like a man would gulp down an oasis after a lifetime of being stranded in the desert. You couldn’t say how many times you flood his awaiting mouth with your juices and seed, but you’ll always remember how his Adam's Apple bobs on every swallow. As if it nourishes him, replenishes his soul from inside and out, warms like a good hearty soup.

Capitano slithers up your body to stroke a finger down your face, “Are you ready for me, honey? You’re spewing like a fountain but we can always just cuddle.”

“No, I'm ready, I want this, want you. Please, Daddy, need your cock.” And your money, but mostly your cock right now.

You settle into your position on your back and spread your legs, you grab the back of your ankles and keep them that way. Bearing yourself for the hungry gaze of a man twice your age.

“Alright, needy love, aren’t you? Here you go.” He coos, lining up his fat dick with your slick entrance and sinking in.

You almost wish you had turned the lights off. The way his massive looks hovering above yours, muscles tense and waiting to be exercised. You don’t have to look down at where his cock feeds your pussy, it’s like you can feel what every nerve and vein is doing and touching in your guts. You’re so glad the conversation about being tested was had on the sugaring app, you’re both clean and on the pill so you thought why not indulge in another first.

“Gorgeous cunt. Worth so much fucking more than 50,000. You like France, bambi? I’ll get you a castle in the countryside, this pussy would look divine getting pounded in one of their foyer’s and over their balconies.” He groans, husky and scratchy, kissing you and grinding his cock deep in your quivering pussy like you just got married.

You have to show him how to take a video of his goopy cum dripping out of your puffy folds, spreading them with your fingers and pushing it back inside.

The next morning, you wake up to a bundle of fresh roses and a calligraphy note on the pillow next to your head. You smile and take it all in, but eventually you tug on last night’s clothes and grab your bag. You grin down at your phone, feeling the butterflies play war drums in your stomach, this going somewhere good. There are times when you can just tell.

The suite door is locked, a man’s voice outside asks if you’re ready to be taken back to the boss’s home. On the way there you look through your bag, a message from your intuition, and your birth control is gone. But there are listings for several foreign properties, with a sticky note attached to the first.

‘Tell me which ones you like when you get home. I have my broker on the phone.”

Stalker!Childe

It’s a routine for him, slip in under your window, sink onto your bed and straddle your sleeping body, and fill you up with his cum until your belly bloats. You’ve never noticed, he’s good at cleaning up. And if you have, you’re docile enough to let him keep at it. Let the rabid wolf keep pawing at your door with bloody paws, leaving a carcass at your feet and doing it all over again the next day.

You know it’s just your boyfriend loving on you in private until you’re ready to go public. He understands you’re shy, a lot of the partners he’s had in the past haven’t exactly been social butterflies, but baby it’s just little ol’ Ajax! He wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone his precious significant other, don’t be silly. He has these kinds of conversations with you through hushed whispers against your ear and trembling fingers slipping under the straps of your tank top.

Ajax always preps you, save for a couple of times in the beginning because he was too excited. He prefers doing it with his tongue, but he does love a good fingerbanging session. He’d never cause any pain that wasn’t fun for the both of you, cross his heart and hope to die. He even brings a back up inhaler that he stole from your pharmacist in case you lose your current one.

He grins as he shimmies you out of your sleepwear, you never much, another sign that you’re meant to be “Shh, lovebug, I hope you’re having the sweetest dreams right now. I’m just stopping by to say hi. I have to be quicker this time, I'm real sorry, bub.”

Some as-gentle-as-possible rough fingerbanging it is.

Ajax keeps his eyes peeled so wide they burn a little as he crooks and curls his fingers in your tight pussy, marveling at your groggy whimpers that sooner than later snowball into light moans.

“You looked stunning in your outfit today, I like looser tops on you. I can see your titties bounce, swear to god. The leggings were a nice touch too, wanted to jog over during your walk and smack the shit out of it. But that’s not the meet cute you deserve, is it cutie?” He grips your face in one hand, the free one that’s not knuckles deep in pussy juice, shaking your head for ‘no’ for you.

“I promise we’re gonna meet soon, it breaks my heart to see you look so lonely, bub.” He’s not fazed when you seem like you’re waking up, he just ‘aw’s and strokes his thumb on your clit until you’ve fallen back asleep. “I can’t wait. I’ve gone over everything a million times, what I’m gonna wear, what I’m gonna say, our first date, our “first” time, I'm so ready for it all with you.”

You’re adorable, your brow is pinching and you’re tossing and turning. Your soft moans become louder and since you’re a heavy sleeper that doesn’t live in an apartment (not that he’d stop anyway, he’s seen how your next door neighbors check you out when you’re not looking), he scissors his fingers and speeds up the thrusts of his hand.

After months of this and vigorous hours at the gym, his wrist has stopped cramping entirely. He slips his free hand under his jeans and clasps it around his leaking dick, jerking himself off as he finger fucks your perfect pussy.

“Oh, there it is, honey.” Ajax gasps, tightening his grip around his painfully hard cock just as your walls tighten around his fingers. “It’s okay, keep going for me, you can do it.”

He times his strokes to the thrusts of his fingers, his breathing in sync with every rise and fall of your chest. You’re so wet, you’re leaking around his digits, your pussy making a sick squelching sound

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, just from fingering your pretty pussy.” He pants, circling his thumb over the head of his weep dick and smearing his precum all over his length.

He’s moving so fast his hand is a blur, and he really doesn’t even register the sensation of fucking himself with his fist. Instead what he feels is the way your thighs seize up and your breath hitches, you arch your back off the bed in your sleep and that’s when he knows it’s time.

“Fuck, okay. Lemme get a little closer, lovebug, don’t want any of it to go to waste, right?” He keeps stroking his throbbing cock and blasting his fingers into your pussy, awkwardly trying to find his footing so he can get a good position.

He takes his fingers out of you and his heart squeezes in his chest when your hips buck after them and you whine.

“Here it comes, baby.” Ajax laughs at his own joke, positioning the tip of his dick right against your hole. With a shaky breath and an even shakier smile, he breaches your hole with only that part of himself, loving the way your cunt welcomes it in.

He laughs again when he floods your insides, crossing his fingers behind his back for this one to take. Don’t worry, it’s only a fantasy for now, you should at least have your first date before he knocks you up.

OBGYN!Baizhu

“Just lie back on the exam chair for me and we can begin.” Dr. Baizhu smiles warmly at you as you nervously play with your hands in the clinical room.

You nod, wanting to speak at little as possible. The chair’s paper covering crinkles and creases as you climb onto it, shuffling around before settling into a somewhat comfortable positon lying on your back. You look to Dr. Baizhu on your right, he’s available on your insurance and he has stellar reviews on any site worth trusting you could find. You’re just anxious anyway, and this is something you have to do, it won’t do you any good to get paranoid about all the things that could go wrong in a doctor’s office.

Baizhu’s eyes crinkle in the corners and he takes a seat on one of those rolling black stools. “So I take it that this is your first pelvic exam? Well, then be assured that you’re in good hands. It’s nothing scary, but I need to make sure your vulva and reproductive organs are in perfect working order.”

You laugh awkwardly and mutter back a “I know, I'm fine. Just a little tired, traffic was a nightmare.”

Your nerves already feel like they’re fading away, Dr. Baizhu’s voice is so pleasant and he has such a kind demeanor, you understand why this clinic was so eager to have him. The woman who signed you in was raving that it was his first day after leaving a major hospital, that they were so lucky and you were too.

“Now I'll have you slide down to the end of the table and put your knees in these stirrups, it’s perfectly safe and if you need to take a breather, please let me know.” He croons, allowing you the freedom and comfort to act on your own. He’d never want to make you feel panicked, as if he were forcibly restraining you.

The exams aren’t really a big deal when you’ve gotten over that hump, but Baizhu knows that first times of any variety can be scary. Especially for skittish patients such as yourself, with as much prey drive as a barn bunny being chased by a sheepdog.

You lie there and endure every probe and thoughtful hum. Your vulva is fine and Dr. Baizhu ends that part of the inspection with a quick pat to your mound, his lips twitching as if trying to resist the urge to kiss.

“Okay, now I'm just going to check out your cervix, keep still.” The man hums, smoothing a hand down your right calf from the stirrup to your knee. “You’ll feel some pressure, but nothing painful.”

“Really?” You bite your lip and eye the instruments on the little table by the sink.

Dr. Baizhu chuckles, “Of course. Some patients do experience pain, but it’s not a definite thing, everybody’s different. At most, you’ll feel a tad uncomfortable and exposed.”

So you brace yourself and expect to feel the cold metal of what looks like some kind of forceps. Instead you look down to see your doctor unbuttoning his pants.

He catches your eye and waves off your concern, “Cold metal just seems so abrasive for your first time. You might do better with a more… human approach, something to test how well you can stretch. Don’t worry, I'll put protection on, I'd be a horrible doctor if I didn't.”

Sure enough he slides a latex condom on, covered in tiny holes but you brush it off as being a part of the design. Baizhu’s cock twitches, feeling a sick thrill at how easy you are, at how he can whip his dick out and you’ll believe it’s in your best interest.

He doesn’t release you from the stirrups, and they rattle as he plunges inside inch by inch. Slowly and mind numbingly, to properly gauge your cunt’s ability to expand around the intrusion. You gape up at him, feeling far more than just a tad uncomfortable and exposed. His lips twitch again, torn between maintaining the facade and stuffing your cervix with his cock or breaking character and dipping down to kiss your adorably parted lips.

“I’d give you a piece of candy if that wouldn’t embarrass you. You’re doing great, just relax and the pressure will ease up.”

“Ngh- hah- O-okay, doctor. Thank you for helping me.” You don’t know why you say it, who thanks their doctors for doing a basic exam? But he groans and his hips rush forward all the same.

Your cunt is impossibly tight, which is to be expected but it’s not any less delightful to experience.

The paper underneath you makes you want to claw your eyes out as his thrusts force your back to slide back and forth on it. That, the stirrup straps clacking, and your shared soft pants are the only sounds in the locked room. It’s not as anxiety inducing as you’d expect, the planets in the office orbit around the doctor and as long as they think he’s in an appointment (and isn’t he?) they won’t interrupt. His eyes crease, he promises to give you a home visit when you’re done here, just to be thorough and make good on that promise of candy.

Something sweet for the embodiment of the cavities is in his soul, cunny strangles him tighter than a noose.

Dr. Baizhu shudders as you reflexively clench around his pulsing cock and attempt to kick out your legs only to be held back by the stirrups, “Don’t mind the mess, ‘s all par for the c-course, my dear.”

You squirt on his next thrust, and your tangy juices drip down onto the cold gray floor. The gooey cum that escapes the holes in the condom follow suit and form a little pool. Dr. Baizhu takes several pictures of your seed heavy pussy with his flip phone for medical reference.

[tteokdoroki]

Weird girl reader doesn't wear bags, so often pulls out the most out of place shii from her cargos or jacket pockets, like notebooks, food and more. Yuuji f's with it because he gets to show off how strong he is when they go shopping but classmates find it weird because reader clearly looks bulky so why didn't she make it easier for herself

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #5. pockets.

i can just imagine like jock bf!yuuji asking you for a snack when you visit him during practices because he knows that you have a granola bar or something stuffed in your pockets n like the next second you’re whipping out a tissue to wipe his mouth with bc he eats like a messy child :((

also yuuji always knows when you’re stopping by his classes or his dorms or even practice because he can hear all of your pockets jingling with your trinkets from like a mile away !!! he gets so excited like a puppy omg :( literally turns his head at the slightest sound of a jingle n a huge smile breaks out onto his face when his big brown eyes finally land on you <3

but like … the shopping thing. i feel like jock bf!yuuji likes to do your shopping for you, so he’ll push around the cart while you grab things from the paper list crumpled in your back pocket (sometimes he reaches and gets it for you as an excuse to squeeze your tush hehe >.<!) — and he never minds how much stuff you buy cause he can obviously carry it with ease n likes to show off his muscles for you while you prance around a few steps ahead of him.

gosh n yuuji never ever lets you carry bags or anything because he loves doing it for you, just being your big strong boyfriend. it’s so silly, he’ll have a tote bag on his bulky shoulders in the middle of the day while you drag him to book stores n such — he probably has a bunch of your tote bags at his dorm and always asks which one he should bring when you guys go on dates or shopping together <3

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[prettyb0ycvnt]

hi freaks of tumblr . here's my introduction post teeheehee <3

my name is aiden ! i am an eighteen year old queer trans man - pre-op and pre-t unfortunately ... but whatever im still hot. giggles and twirls hair.

more about me :3

☆ freakiest virgin you've ever met. i'd like that to CHANGE but uhhghhh the most i can get is freaks on tumblr (hit me up lalalala)

☆ real life prince charming pupboy :3 !!!

☆ literally not an ounce of dominance inside me at ALL i'm very submissive!!!! to an insane extent!!!

☆ bottom.

☆ perpetually in heat actually. need that to be rectified

☆ bst timezone. british twink moving like Oh Good Heavens... Oh My... Good Grief...

☆ my asks are open all the time to anyone! dms are open for mutuals only (i'm totally open to conversation & sharing things with moots as long as ur respectful!!). i prefer getting asks; i'm bad with managing messages. also feel free to dm or ask me stuff if you just wanna be friends!!! blank blogs do not message me it weirds me out x

☆ i'm a writer! my posts may tend to get real descriptive if i'm not hornied-out beyond all comprehensive thought!!

☆ i am transgender and a lot of the stuff i post will focus on this :3 !!! my posts will reference fem biology but i'm not a girl don't call me one or i'll rip my hair out and die.

☆ im a queer man !! still fully figuring out where my attraction lies but i do know i have a very heavy male pref. please don't repost my stuff if you're a cishet blogger or a 'men dni' blog im literally a. man and i love men and i talk about loving men and im the antithesis of everything u stand for . all queer freaks (including. wlw!!!) can do whatever they want with my posts :3

☆ some of my non-freakish interests include acting, literature, writing, baking, reading and certain fandoms that i don't want to explicitly reference in case this post appears to them uhm feel free to ask me about them!!!

claimed anons: 😵💫 ; 👾 ; 🪰; 🍁 ; ⚒ ; 🍓 ; 🐈‍⬛ ; 🎈

dni: minors, MAPs, bigots of any kind, trans fetishisers, ed & sh blogs, ageless blogs, weirdo freaks of the bad kind!!

tags

#☆ aiden's corner -> silly thoughts of mine!! sometimes they r Slightly lesser hornyposting... sometimes they're just funny things ithink of. sometimes its just me talking about whateva welcum to aiden's corner !!

#☆ aiden's freakish thoughts -> hornyposting to the maxxxx.... under this tag im a FREAAKKK

#☆ aiden's pics -> me lawl. usually just tummy :3

#☆ aiden's audio -> aiden whines like a bitch

#☆ reblogs -> stuff i find relatable or stuff i find super duper hot . perhaps both at the same time!!

#☆ anon -> answering anonymous asks!

#☆ asks -> when used alone, answering non-anon asks! also used in conjunction with #☆ anon :3

me if u even care

okay thats all i can think of rn ummm anyway. stuff i'm into & limits under the cut :3

i looove >_< !!!

praise, degradation, breeding, petplay, major voice kink!, exhibitionism, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, free-use, cockwarming, royalty, dumbification, somnophilia, forcemasc and ummm probably more you should totes talk to me so we can find out!

limits >:[ !!!

detrans/misgendering, forced feminisation, scat, bestiality, watersports, blood, basically any bodily fluids that aren't cum or spit, intox related to alcohol specifically, anything to do with feet, feederism, weight gain/weight loss, incest/fauxcest, ageplay, rape, daddy/mommy, pregnancy, basically everything else that's super fucking weird and unethical. -> if you're into these things that's totally fine!! i'd just prefer they're not brought up in regards to myself ^_^

bodily terms for myself :3

not on t nor have i had surgery so i still very much have female parts and im fine with them being referred to as such!!! acceptable terms include cunt, pussy/boypussy, slit, hole, clit, chest, tits, (t-)cock& (t-)dick !! all i ask is that the term vagina is not used.

things i like being called >_<

please refer to me with masculine or neutral terms, nothing feminine. degrading terms like whore, bitch, slut and any other varieties (cumslut, etc.) are 100% okay! in fact please call me them!! praising terms like good boy are wooonderful. call me puppy/pup and ill explode and die (in a good way!!!) tbh literally call me anything as long as its not feminine and i'll love it. lalalalaa

[unabashegirl]

Different 12 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note:  Hey everyone! I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for your incredible support. I’m currently 164 subscribers away from being able to cover my medical school tuition, which is a huge milestone for me. I’m not sharing this because I’m asking anyone to contribute more, but rather to see if you could help spread the word by reposting.

warnings: talk abt abuse and violence

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

---> different masterlist <---

She was petrified down to her core. Y/N suddenly couldn’t feel her extremities. The grip on her mechanical pencil tightened as she thought of ways to defend herself if necessary. She couldn’t understand how going to the library had turned into a nightmare.

Brian pulled out the chair beside her and sat down, incredibly close to her. He could smell her lavender shampoo and her vanilla lotion.

“Brian,” she started, but was quickly cut off by his rough, demanding voice.

“Shut up, Y/N.” He ran his fingers through his brown hair as he leaned closer to her ear. Brian knew there were plenty of people in the library who could interrupt them or, worse, overhear their conversation. Therefore, if he needed to whisper so the rest couldn’t find out his business, he would. “I am so fucking done with your silent treatment. Who the fuck do you think you are?” His tone was stern, harsh, and cold enough to make her skin crawl.

She didn’t say anything but just turned to stare back at him.

“You treat me like shit, and then I find out that you have a boyfriend? Who is it?” Brian never considered himself a bad boyfriend. He knew he had his flaws, like everyone else, but Y/N hadn’t given him a chance to redeem himself. “I heard it’s that kid you were speaking to at that fucking party you had, and I really hope it’s not him. He’s a fucking nobody.” He was jealous but would never admit it.

“Don’t talk about him that way!” She hadn’t planned to respond to him, but bringing Harry into it had made her blood boil like never before. She had never been the type to hold grudges. Her grandmother had taught her from a young age the virtue of forgiveness, but what Brian had done that night was unforgivable.

“I can say whatever I please. Are you seriously telling me that you prefer him over me? Firstly, why did you leave me?” The veins popped from his neck as his cheeks turned red. His hands ached to touch her and force an answer out of her, but he couldn’t with so many people around. So, he gripped her jaw and forced her closer to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she hissed, pulling her face from his grip even though it hurt her skin. “The party? Where not only did you hit me, but you tried to force me into having sex with you?” she whispered, glancing at the other people in the library.

“Force you to have sex with me? You’re mistaken. I don’t remember ever having difficulty getting you into bed. You were always so willing to open your legs to everyone.” Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing he would continue to deny it.

“Fuck you,” she cursed, reaching out to start packing her things back into her tote bag.

“He’s a nobody. Your parents will never approve,” he laughed, recalling the day she introduced him to her parents. He had shown off that night. Brian also came from an affluent family, though nowhere near Y/N���s. “You’re a fucking princess, and he will never fulfill the role I left.”

“You think I’m a princess?” she retorted. “Then why would you hit me? You busted my lip, my eyebrow, and broke my nose that night.”

She still remembered the darkness of the room where he held her for almost three hours while the party continued downstairs. If it hadn’t been for her friends, who had grown worried about her whereabouts that night, he would have raped her. Y/N owed everything to James and Sebastian. They moved in with her for the rest of winter break until her nightmares finally stopped tormenting her. She eventually healed physically, but she would never forget the darkness of that room.

Brian looked away and stared off into the distance. He couldn’t look her in the eyes because, deep down, he felt guilty.

He remembered waking up in only boxers in his friend’s master bedroom. His entire body hurt and ached. His knuckles were bruised, and at first, he assumed he’d gotten into another silly fight with some random person. So, he called and texted Y/N, but she never answered. It wasn’t until he looked in the mirror that he saw his bruised face. James had almost killed him that night.

“He might not be popular or as rich as you, but I know that Harry would never lay a finger on me without my permission,” she said proudly. “I am not entertaining this conversation. For a minute, I thought you were going to apologize to me. Silly me, huh? Always trying to justify your actions, but I am done. You crossed a line that night. I suggest you find another girl to torment. You wouldn’t like the entire university to find out what happened, would you?” she retorted as she rose to her feet, but before she could walk away, he gripped her forearm.

“Are you threatening me?” Brian growled as he stood up from his seat. She yanked her arm away and took a step back.

“Don’t touch me again,” she hissed, then quickly walked out of the library.

Y/N felt drained as she walked out of the building and across campus to find a quiet place to settle down. She found a small, secluded area with a sofa and cushions, like a cozy living room, so she settled onto the couch and pulled out her iPad to watch something before her next class and her meeting with Harry.

“Doll,” a voice whispered as someone caressed the top of her head. Y/N had fallen asleep watching another episode of her favorite show. James looked down at his best friend with a big smile, amused at her ability to fall asleep anywhere. “Did you sleep well?” he chuckled, pushing some hair away from her face as she fluttered her eyes and tried to come back to reality.

“What time is it?”

“Class is already over.” James sat beside her on the couch. He had just finished his Torts class when he found her. Sebastian had actually sent him a photo after he passed her on his way to statistics.

“I have to get to Mansueto,” she groaned, checking her phone and noticing the multiple texts Harry had sent her.

“I’m actually headed that way too. I’ll drop you off on the way to the gym.” Y/N quickly texted Harry back as she scrambled to pick up her things.

On my way. Fell asleep. Sorry

“How was your day? Besides falling asleep and missing your class?” James asked as they walked toward the parking lot. She giggled but was quickly reminded of her encounter with Brian.

“It was fine.” She couldn’t tell him. She knew he would go looking for Brian and pick a fight with him on campus, which could get him expelled.

“Are you sure?” James knew her too well not to notice her strange behavior and sudden change in tone. They had grown up together. Their mothers had been friends since high school and had married within the same social circle, keeping their friendship alive for many years. Naturally, Y/N and James had gone to the same pre-K, primary school, middle school, and high school.

“Yes,” she smiled as she jumped into his Range Rover. They drove for only a few minutes before he pulled up to the dome library on 57th Street. “Thanks, bubs! See you tomorrow.” She smiled, getting out and waving.

“Let me know if you need a ride back!” James called after her as she entered the building.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled as she approached Harry, Sarah, and Mitch. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” she apologized, waving to his friends before giving Harry a quick kiss. “I fell asleep on a couch and missed my last class.” Harry chuckled, pulling her chair closer to his.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he confessed. He had actually worried something had happened to her on the way.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she whispered, noticing his friends had already dived into their work. “I was just tired and forgot to text, but I wasn’t going to stand you up. Plus, I’ve got lots of work to do, too.”

Harry smiled and gave her a soft kiss, letting her know he wasn’t upset and understood.

--> Different 13

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 3

Series Masterlist

➪in which you babysit joey for the first time and clay quickly discovers that he enjoys seeing you interact with his son more than he probably should.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.7k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Hi, Joey!” You say as the kid runs up to you. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he answers and takes off his backpack, handing it to you with a sheepish grin. “Where’s daddy?”

You throw his backpack over your shoulder and take his hand, leading him towards the street where Clay’s driver was waiting for you. Since you didn’t have a car and couldn’t bring a booster seat with you whenever you needed to hail a cab and pick Joey up, Clay told you that his driver was available for that twenty four seven, and you once again were left questioning your career choice. “He’s still at work,” you answer and open the back door. 

“Will I see him at home?” Joey asks as he sits on the booster seat and waits for you to buckle him in. 

“Yes, but not for a little while longer,” you say as you sit next to him. You look at the driver and bite your lip as you try to remember the name Clay told you. 

What was it? Robby? Rodger?

“Hey,” you nudge Joey’s side with a smile. “Do you know his name?” 

Joey’s gaze follows your finger as you discreetly point at the driver. “That’s Mick,” he answers loudly and your face heats up almost instantly. 

A deep laugh was heard from the front of the car and you became even more embarrassed. “It’s Rick,” he corrected the four year old with a teasing grin in the rearview mirror. 

“Right, sorry,” you laugh and run your hands up and down your thighs. “I’m bad with names.”

Rick just waves you off and it was thankfully a peaceful ride back to Clay’s house. When you took Joey’s hand again and led him up the stairs, you fumble around in your pocket for the key Rick gave you. He said that Clay had given it to him to give to you, and you were reminded of the fact that you had completely spaced out last night and forgot to ask for it. 

Once you were both inside, you lock the door and carry Joey up the stairs. “Are you hungry?” You ask as you walk into the kitchen with him. “Do you want a snack before dinner?”

You set him down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table and turn to look at the cabinet. You felt a bit weird about looking in someone else’s cupboards, but Clay had texted you beforehand and told you that anything in the kitchen was free for the taking, except for the kiwi in the fridge. That was strictly for Lilith and Lilith only. 

“A little,” Joey answered as he played with the tablecloth. “What’s for dinner?”

You set his backpack down onto the opposing chair, as well as your own tote bag, and opened the long cabinet. “I’m not sure, buddy,” you say and take out a box of crackers. “I can make you a grilled cheese sandwich, if you like those.”

“I do,” he says excitedly. You smile at him and open a few cupboards before finding the one with the plates in it. Taking out a small one, you dump a handful of crackers onto it and set it down in front of Joey. 

As he begins to snack on the crackers, you open his bag and take out the empty lunch containers. Your fingers skim over various pages, and you pull a few of them out and look at the drawings that were labeled with today’s date. “Joey, did you draw these?” You ask as you sit down next to him. 

He nodded, taking a cracker between his small fingers. “They’re from today,”

“Wow,” you say and look over at him. “You’re quite the little artist, huh?”  

Joey smiles and points towards the fridge. You turn and notice that there were multiple drawings on the fridge, each one being held up by a magnet of a different letter. “Daddy put them there,” 

Your smile grows as you turn back to look at Joey. “That’s sweet,” you say and he holds out a cracker to you. “Thanks, buddy. Let me know when you get hungry and I’ll make dinner, okay?”

He nods as you eat the cracker and place a blank sheet of paper in front of him.

“Do you feel like coloring some more? Maybe you can draw something for your dad to come home to later,” you suggest and he excitedly nods as he takes the pack of crayons from you. 

“Okay,” he instantly agreed and began drawing something. You had no clue what it was supposed to be, but you knew Clay would love anything his unbelievably cute son gave him, no matter how abstract it was. 

As Joey colors his picture, you look around the kitchen and debate on whether or not you should take on the task of cleaning it a bit. It wasn’t messy, not by a long shot, but there were a few telltale signs that Clay and Lilith rushed this morning and had to leave things a tad unorganized. 

You ruffle Joey’s hair before standing up and beginning to wash the few dishes that were in the sink, then move onto emptying the coffee machine and wiping off the counters. 

You had just finished tossing the paper towel into the trash when Joey called your name, his mispronunciation of it making you grin, “I’m hungry now,”

“You are?” You ask and grab the loaf of bread and cheese from out of the fridge. “No way, I’m hungry, too.”

Joey laughed at you and lifted up the piece of paper that was now various colors and shapes. “Done,”

“Wow!” You say and set the items in your hands down before making your way over to him. “Your dad will love this. Would you like me to label it for you? So you know what day you drew it?”

He nods and hands you both the page and a red crayon. 

After writing down his name and today’s date, you set it aside and begin making him a grilled cheese sandwich, glancing at him every so often while you wait. 

-

“Joey? Y/n?” Clay calls as he enters his house and pockets his keys. Being met with silence, he heads upstairs and follows the sound of his kid’s laughter all the way to the living room, where he finds him sitting on the couch with you. Clay stops in the doorway as he takes in the sight of his son snuggling into your side while you mess up his hair, and he felt like his heart had skipped a beat when you looked up and smiled at him. 

“Hi,” you greet in a quiet voice, making Joey look up and smile once he locks eyes with him. 

“Daddy!” He calls and gets up from the couch. He runs over to Clay on wobbling legs and practically jumps into his arms. 

“Hey, buddy,” Clay mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. “How was your day? Did you have fun with Y/n?” 

“Yes! I made something for you,” when he began to wiggle in his arms, Clay bent down and let Joey run off down the hall towards the kitchen. He turns back to you with a smile, moving to sit next to you with a decent amount of space between you. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Oh, so good,” you grin and turn the TV off with the remote. “You were right, you’ve got the coolest kid in New York.”

“I told you,” he grinned back and took a second to glance down at your outfit. It was still warm out since it was only the beginning of September, so your jean shorts and cropped tee were still acceptable to wear weather wise. But for some reason Clay couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from raking up and down the smooth skin of your legs. 

He had to get a hold of himself, because you are his kid’s babysitter, and nothing could happen between you. He just had to accept the fact that you were cute, and leave it at that. 

“How was work?” You ask as you trace the floral pattern on the pillow you had on your lap. He realized that it had been so long since someone other than his mother asked him that, and even Lilith had stopped asking since she did pretty much the same thing he did. 

He wasn’t aware of how much he wanted to come home to someone and have them ask him about his day - so he can ask them right back - until now.

Clay shrugged. “Work is work,” he answered and did nothing to stop the grin that took over his lips and matched yours, despite his previous warnings to himself. Maybe nothing more than a professional relationship could occur between the two of you, but that was it.

Before he could further continue acting like he wasn’t into you, Joey came running back into the room with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look, dad,” he said in an excited voice as Clay picked him up and set him down on the couch between you and him. “I made this for you.”

Clay looked at the drawing and felt his heart swell in his chest. He had not one clue what the drawing was supposed to be, but he loved it all the same. Then he noticed the neat handwriting at the bottom of the page. “This is amazing, Joe,” he praised, kissing the top of his son’s head before looking over at you. “Did your babysitter help you write your name?”

“No,” he laughed, snuggling into his side. “She wrote it for me.”

Clay laughed, too, running his hand up and down Joey’s back. “You tired, bud? Ready for a bath and then bed?”

“Yeah,” came his son’s quiet response before he looked over at you. “Can she help me in the bath?”

Clay looked up at you and found you already smiling. “I don’t know, Joey,” he answered. “Y/n might have to go now that I’m home.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” you say and look down at Joey. “You just got here. Relax a bit, I can get him ready for bed.”

Joey got up and crawled over onto your lap, his little fingers playing with the bracelet around your wrist, much like how he did last night. “As long as it’s not keeping you from anything,” Clay stated a bit hesitantly. 

“What could I possibly have going on? It’s seven PM on a Wednesday,” you joked as you stood up and held Joey on your right hip. 

“You never know,” he said back and watched as you shook your head before making your way up to the third floor. Clay sat on the couch for a bit longer and looked at Joey’s drawing. He’ll never understand what he possibly could have done that made the world think he deserved such a sweet kid, but he’ll also never ask in fear that it’ll come back to bite him.

Then he was looking at the bottom right corner again, and now he was wondering why he thought that even your handwriting is pretty. 

He really needed to get a grip. 

Standing up from the couch, he heads into the kitchen with the paper still in his hand. When he looked up, his eyes widened a bit at how damn near spotless the room looked. He remembered leaving in a bit of a rush this morning and not having the time to tidy up, and he felt bad that you would have to see the kitchen in that kind of state. But it was pristine. 

He debated on whether or not he should pay you more just because he couldn’t remember the last time the kitchen had looked this nice, and decided he would need to after he opened the fridge and saw a grilled cheese sandwich in there, covered by saran wrap and topped off with a sticky note. 

For the coolest kid’s dad. 

This was too much.

He closed the fridge again after grabbing the plate and stuck the drawing onto the door of it with a magnet of the letter of your first name by pure coincidence. 

You had used that same red crayon to write on the sticky note, and Clay felt a warm feeling take over his body at the fact that you thought about him, enough to provide him with dinner. 

It was a simple dinner, but he felt like he was eating like a royal. You were somehow able to make him feel more important than anyone else had in a long time, and that was a scary thought. 

The last time he had let himself get too caught up in someone he ended up marrying them and then he was on his own with a kid only a few years later.

He couldn’t let himself feel that way about you. 

So, he tossed the note into the recently changed garbage and ate, what he could confidently say, was the best grilled cheese he had ever had in his life. 

After washing the plate, he heard the sound of soft footsteps nearing the kitchen, and then a second later you poked your head in. “Hi,” you say quietly. “He’s in bed. I think he wants you to go say goodnight to him.”

“Okay, thanks,” Clay said and grabbed your bag from off the kitchen chair. “And thank you for cleaning up the kitchen. You didn’t have to do that.”

He hands your bag to you and you take it with a shy smile. “It’s no big deal,” you shrug and slide the bag up your arm. “I also made you a sandwich, if you’re hungry.”

Clay nods, fighting off a smile. “Another thing you didn’t have to do,” he stated and saw a flash of embarrassment in your eyes, making him quickly add, “But I appreciate it, nonetheless. It was good.”

You smile again and step out into the hall as he follows you. “I’m glad,”

He led you all the way downstairs before pulling out a hundred dollar bill and holding it out to you. “Thanks for everything,”

You look at the bill with wide eyes before shaking your head. “That’s too much,” you say and step away from him. “I was only here for a few hours, I can’t take that.”

“It’s what we agreed on, plus a little more for helping out with the kitchen and getting him ready for bed,” he shrugged, moving towards you when you still didn’t take it. “It’s fine, Y/n, really.” He assured you and placed the bill in your bag after you shook your head again.

“Clay,” you begin, but he silences you with a smile. You smiled back, a grateful look in your eyes as you nod. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he said and opened the door for you. “Are you able to pick him up again tomorrow?”

“Same time?” You ask and step outside. “Yes, of course.”

“Great,” he leans against the door and looks around at the dark street. “Let me know that you go home okay?”

You smile again and nod, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I will. Have a good night,”

He watched as you walked down the steps before murmuring a quiet, “You too,” he was sure you didn’t even hear as you got into a taxi.

Once you were out of sight he closes and locks the door before heading up to Joey’s room, where he finds him almost asleep and snuggled under his covers. “Daddy,” he quietly called and Clay was over to him within seconds. 

“Hey,” he says and sits down on the small bed. “How was your bath?”

“Good,” Joey answers, snuggling closer to Clay’s side. “I like her. She’s nice.”

Clay hums, smoothing out Joey’s hair that was already pretty much dry. “I do, too, buddy,” he agrees. “Do you want to see her again tomorrow?”

Joey nods and closes his eyes. “She makes good sandwiches,” he mumbles. 

“She does,” Clay once again agrees with the four year old before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Joey. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

And then Joey was asleep, and Clay was left thinking about you. 

His kid was right; you are nice. Far too nice for your own good, and way too sweet for him to be thinking about you in the way he is now. 

He thought about how you went out of your way to clean up the place, make him food, then proceed to still help him by getting Joey ready for bed, even after he was already home. 

You were such a genuinely kind person, Clay was wondering how he got lucky enough to run into you, literally, on the street and have you in his life, if only to look after his son. 

With one last glance at Joey, Clay stands up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him before making his way back into the kitchen, where he reaches in and grabs the sticky note with your pretty handwriting from out of the unused garbage bag. 

He holds it in one hand while he types out a text to you with his other. 

Thanks again for everything. I’m going out this weekend to pick up some groceries, so let me know if there is anything I can keep here for you when you’re babysitting. 

Instead of waiting for you to text him back, he regretfully clicks on Sam’s contact and calls her. Unsurprisingly, he gets her voicemail, and he stays silent for a beat or two before leaving her another message. “It was his second day of school today,” he muttered, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. “He doesn’t even ask about you, can you believe that? He thinks growing up without a mother is normal. You did that to him. You left him without even thinking about what it will be like for him in the future.”

He let out an annoyed sigh, angry with himself for reaching out to her again, even after sorting out a small portion of his life. Clay truly had no control over the part of himself that wanted Sam to come back, and the even bigger part of him that hated her for leaving him. 

“You’re a coward, Sam, you know that?” He asked and felt his anger rising within him. His heartbeat quickened as his skin heated up, and he found it a bit hard to breathe at the moment. Then he looked at the note that was still in his hand, and felt himself relax just a bit. 

His eyes traced over every letter and by the time he reached the last one, his heartbeat was back to normal and he no longer wanted to waste any more of his time on her. At least for the rest of the night. 

So, he hung up without saying another word, and when he glanced at the screen, he saw that you had texted him back during the time he spent leaving Sam that pointless voicemail.

Joey’s Sitter: Well….since you asked. Diet coke. Pretty please.

And Clay was now smiling as he set the sticky note down on his alarm clock and replied with,

That stuff is really bad for you, you know that, right? It’s easy to get addicted to.

He wasn’t one to talk, as he, too, has been addicted to things in the past. He was a regular smoker before he met Sam, and stopped well before Joey was born as he didn’t want him around that kind of thing. And Sam had been pestering him about stopping for quite some time at that point, as well.

Joey’s Sitter: Oh, I didn’t realize you were a doctor. Or a special health therapist. My bad. I guess I can use my babysitting money to buy it myself, then you would technically be buying it for me anyway. 

Clay laughed and pulled off his tie, tossing it aside as he leaned against the pillows.

I’ll get it for you. Just felt like lecturing you a bit. You save up and buy yourself something later on. 

 Joey’s Sitter: Now you’re, what, a teacher? When can I find out what your actual job is? And I am eternally grateful for your kindness about providing me with my diet coke. 

Just so you know, I would never buy diet coke intentionally. I’m making an exception for you so I know you have something here. I can promise that no one else in this house will drink that stuff. And I’m just a boring businessman. As stereotypical as you’re probably thinking it is.

Joey’s Sitter: I wasn’t, but good to know. 

Just as he was about to respond, he heard a few quiet knocks at his door before it opened. He looks up and meets the eyes of his mother, who smiles at him. “Hey,”

“Hey,” he says back and puts his phone on his nightstand. “Long day?”

“Long week,” she says as she crosses the room and sits next to him. “The kitchen looks nice. Did you clean up after putting Joey to bed?”

“No,” he replies and sits up. “Y/n cleaned up.”

“Y/n?” She asked and didn’t bother masking her surprised tone as she pulled off her high heels. “That’s nice. How was Joey with her today?”

“Good,” he answered. “He really likes her. He even asked her to help him get ready for bed.”

Lilith pulled the clip from her hair and looked over at him. “And did she?” When Clay nodded, she pursed her lips. “Wow, she’s better than I thought she was.”

Clay furrowed his brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Even he had to admit that his voice sounded a bit defensive, and his mom definitely caught onto that fact. 

“Nothing, Clay,” she waved him off and stood up, pressing a multitude of kisses to his cheek. “Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Careful?” He muttered and looked up at her. 

She smiled and grabbed her discarded heels. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” she whispered and left the room again, leaving him feeling a bit confused and a tad annoyed again.

He debated on whether or not to continue to text you, but decided not to as he worked on the buttons of his shirt and got ready for bed.

[catcze]

⠀「 Grocery Shopping *ೃ༄ 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Kazuha, Xiao, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham

「 ### : 」 gn reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, modern au

Reposted from my secondary blog !!

⠀「 KAZUHA*ೃ༄ 」

An absolute sweetheart who insists on pushing the cart or carrying the basket for you !!

Sticks pretty close to your grocery list, though if something interesting catches his eye he might pick it up and show it to you in hopes to convince you to get it.

His choices in food are of the healthier variety, I feel like. Mostly goes for organic choices, and is pretty well-learned in knowing which fruits, veggies and fish are the freshest and which are the closest to spoiling.

Tbh grocery shopping with Kazuha is so ?? Chill? Like, little to no stress, swear.

It’s just very easy and relaxing, walking through the aisles at a leisurely pace and plucking stuff off of shelves. You two talk about whatever you want as you walk, or sometimes you sing along to the music that plays from the speakers.

If something is too tall for either of you two to reach there’s no problem!! Kazuha can jump pretty damn high so he can reach the tip-top shelf easy peasy ♡

I feel like Kazuha also has a secret sweet tooth? Nothing too wild, but you’d catch him eyeing a pack of marshmallows every now and then, or staring a little too long at a tub of ice cream.

If you seamlessly pluck up whatever sweet he’s debating on getting and put it into the cart, he’ll literally light up and give you a sweet smooch on ur nose :((

⠀「 XIAO*ೃ༄ 」

To his credit !! He’s pretty damn decent as a grocery buddy. 

Xiao’s a little introverted, typically choosing not to be around other people for very long periods of time, so him actually volunteering to come with you nearly moved you to tears.

He also pushes the cart from you and keeps track of your grocery list, crossing stuff out for you without you even having to tell him.

Xiao doesn’t talk much, which isn’t very out of the ordinary, but he does give some helpful suggestions when you’re indecisive about something. And he’s very pragmatic and straightforward when he helps you make your decisions, too, so it’s very time-efficient having him with u ♡

He barely asks for anything that isn’t on the list tbh? I dunno, I guess he just doesn’t feel the need to. Not to mention, he’s not particularly picky when it comes to his meals either, so he’s content to sit back and let you take the reins for restocking the fridge. 

If his eyes sparkle a little when he sees you picking up ingredients for almond tofu, you choose not to tease him about it.

Definitely the one to try and bring all the grocery bags to the car in one go. And??? He somehow manages it to ??? You have no idea how, or how the guys somehow managed to hold your hand while also toting all those grocery bags but ?? Hey, you’re not complaining. 

⠀「 THOMA*ೃ༄ 」

I shit you not Thoma is the best person to go shopping with. Hands down.

Thoma doesn’t go to the supermarket for his groceries, actually. Or at least not all of them. For some stuff that have to be imported or that are a bit harder to come by locally, he goes to the groceries and such.

However, when it comes too food shopping, his first stop are the farmers markets!

He’s already a regular at the local farmer’s market. Old grannies love to pinch his cheeks whenever they see him and they always coo over you two being an adorable couple.

Thoma leads you by the hand all around the farmer’s market the entire time you’re out, knowing which stall to go to for the freshest produce and the most decent price. 

Knows how to bargain with the locals without being disrespectful! And he always manages to net really good discounts. If you ask him how he does it, he’ll wink and tell you that it’s just his charm. And you can’t fully disagree.

Definitely brings around his own eco-bags, too. He’s used to carrying all the groceries on his own, but if you offer to help he’ll thank you with a kiss and a smile.

At one point while you two separate to cover more ground, he passes by a stall ran by an old couple and their grandkid that sells flowers. He gets you a bouquet— nothing too big that’s hard to carry around, but something small and cute that you can press between your books and display.

When you reunite and he gives you the gift, he looks so goddamn precious holding out the flowers to you with his smile that u just wanna give him a kiss ♡

⠀「 AYATO*ೃ༄ 」

If Thoma is a god-send to be with when grocery shopping, Ayato is… nicely put, the exact opposite.

Listen I don’t blame the man. He’s rich enough that he’s never really had to do his own groceries before, so he’s a bit out of his element when he accompanies you to do it one day, but it’s still cute that he cleared a part of his busy schedule to help you out with this. He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit (and a pretty face, which helps.)

Motherfucker picks up some incredibly overpriced caviar, looks at the price tag ( $95 !!! For 30 grams what the fuck !!! ) nods to himself like he remembers you having that shit on your grocery list (you do not) and would have plunked it into your cart if you didn’t catch him in time.

He reasons that he’s tried this brand before and that it’s a very delicious-tasting one that you should try yourself, and his reasons are honestly pretty sweet, but it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t need the goddamn caviar. When you try to tell him that you don’t have the budget for it, he offers to get it for you which, again sweet and it makes you want to kiss him, but that’s not the point Ayato !!

Aside from his ignorance inexperience with how much a typical grocery run costs, there’s also the fact that this guy can’t cook for shit. As a result, if he’s not tossing rich person food into your cart, he’s placing shit that should under no circumstances be mixed together in the cart, claiming that he thinks the combination sounds nice to consume.

Ayato, dearest, I love you, but what the fuck is a Cheeto mango shiitake salad ?????? 

⠀「 ALHAITHAM*ೃ༄ 」

The mf who makes a detailed shopping list, complete with the specific brand of the item you’re looking for, the exact amount, the exact price for said amount plus quantity, and then several alternate brands if the one he was aiming for sells out. All of these are entirely researched before hand.

Well, he either does that, or he goes for he most outrageous expensive shit you’ve every seen.

And no half of the time he doesn’t even throw in the $60 per kilogram cheese because he likes it— he does it because he kinda enjoys pissing off a certain blond architect who invites himself over to sleep on your couch rather often.

It’s usually up to you to cross your arms and stare Alhaitham down, quietly judging him for a petty bitch while he crosses his own arms and stares back at you, one eyebrow raised in the way that makes you not sure if you want to punch him or kiss him.

Sometimes you win and with a sigh, your boyfriend quietly turns and goes off to acquire the next item on his incredibly detailed list, leaving you to put his purchase back as you victoriously fist pump to yourself.

Other times, he wins and you throw your arms up, rolling your eyes so hard as you try not to look at his smirk for fear of actually punching him (or, you know, kissing him and flagrantly having public displays of affection.)

Fine! You say to him with a huff that’s not actually angry. Keep your goddamn parmigiano reggiano. 

You can never feel huffy about it for long, though— not when you find an extra tub of your favorite ice cream later as you put the groceries away. 

[bbyrin]

i could stay right here and burn in it all day

✯ pairing: rin itoshi x fem reader

✯ notes: repost from my main blog @/pussydrunkfyodor!! inspired by this post by @kentoangel that immediately made me think of rin :')

✯ warnings: beach sex, prone bone, risky places (kind of), fingering, creampie, pet names (gorgeous, darling, beautiful)

✯ wc: 1.2k

“Rin, honey, I know what you’re trying to do,” you sighed as he sat next to you on your beach towel, grazing his fingers up and down your back.

He just laughs to himself. “I’m not doing anything at all. Am I not allowed to admire the view?”

The sky was painted with swirls of pink and orange as the sun approached the horizon, appearing to sink into the gleaming, cerulean ocean that lapped at the warm sand. That was the view that Rin should’ve been enjoying, but instead, his eyes were glued to you. You were laid on your stomach, head resting on your arms and eyes closed as you inhaled the salty air and relished in the heat. Since the two of you had stumbled upon the secluded beach cove, you had shed your bikini top to avoid tan lines. Which meant that you were laid out, almost completely naked save for the skimpy bottoms that remained tied in loopy bows at your hips. It was driving Rin fucking crazy.

Rin knew he should’ve been appreciating the surreal beach sunset that looked like a Monet painting come to life, but it was impossible to ignore how his cock ached in his swim shorts. The curve of your ass and how the moist skin of your bare back glistened in the orange glow was infinitely more mesmerizing than any scenic view ever could be.

“Can I put some sunscreen on your back?” he asked, already reaching for the bottle in your tote bag.

“The sun is setting, my love,” you mumbled from where your face was buried in your arms.

“You can never be too safe.”

You only sighed as you heard the click of him popping the cap open, and the wet sound of him rubbing the sunscreen between his hands. You shivered a bit as the cool substance came into contact with your toasty skin, but were quickly warmed by Rin’s palms massaging it into your back. It felt heavenly having Rin’s strong, callused palms firmly but gently digging into your skin, working out all the places you didn’t even know you were tense.

You almost got completely lost in the feeling, letting out little groans of pleasure, until you felt his hand wandering towards your lower back, finally coming to cup your ass.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, abandoning your massage to squeeze the soft fat.

“Rin,” you groaned. He was so predictable – but he couldn’t help it! It wasn’t his fault you were so breathtaking the thought of being inside you was always at least somewhere in his mind.

Soon his hand was slipping into your bikini bottoms, and you didn’t stop him as he traced your slit with his fingers. When the feeling disappeared, you thought he had changed his mind, opting instead to just lay with you, but then you heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting onto his fingers. Finding their way back, he was grazing against your slit again before using two digits to spread you open, prodding at your hole with his middle finger. When you didn’t object, only sighed contentedly, Rin slid one inside you. He was surprised to find you already wet enough to slide in all the way to his knuckle, smirking at how little he had to do to turn you on. He slowly dragged it in and out of you, eliciting small whines and groans from your lips.

Rin’s other hand slipped past his own waistband to grip his hardening cock as he added in a second finger inside you, syncing both movements of his hands together. You groaned in time with each other, smiling softly at the pleasure and stretch. But Rin’s self-control was waning. You knew him well, so it didn’t surprise you when your hole was left empty as he climbed on top of you, leaning down to kiss up the warm skin of your back, towards your neck.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Rin whispered as he approached your ear, unconsciously rubbing his trapped hard-on against your ass.

“Hello, Rin,” you giggled, wiggling your hips to give him some friction, making him grunt.

After shoving his waistband down to free himself, lithe fingers pulled your bikini bottoms to the side, touching you once again. The gentle sound of the waves hugging the shore threatened to lull you to sleep, but his cock nestling between your slit, the head nudging your clit woke you right up. Rin rocked his hips slowly between your lips, taking his time to coat his cock in your slick before realigning himself and pushing inside you.

You weren’t afraid to let out a whine that damn ear echoed off the rocky walls that surrounded you, knowing that no one was around to hear it. His thick girth spread your cunt open wide, but the way his knees were braced against your hips kept you from spreading your legs.

Rin leaned down to kiss your neck again, smiling against your skin as his hands slid underneath you to grasp your tits that were pressed against the towel. He whispered sweet praises into your ear and massaged the fat of your chest as he slowly pushed further inside you, coaxing moans out of you until he bottomed out, hips snug against your ass.

“You okay?” he asked, remaining still to allow for you to adjust. When you nodded, he pulled out just slightly before thrusting back into you again. “Fuck, so fucking tight.”

His dark hair obscured his vision as his head fell, overwhelmed by the feeling. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario – his cock buried deep in his lover’s cunt while the setting sun illuminated their secluded beach cove, everything silent save for the sound of sex and the waves.

Building up a rhythm, he fucked into you faster and faster as his cock throbbed, encouraged by the way you clenched tight around him and moaned out his name. He hugged you close to his chest, groaning at how good you felt. “Your pussy is fucking heaven.”

“Rin,” you whimpered, hand gripping the towel tight. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending shockwaves from your core all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“You like that, baby?” he smirked as he rutted into you, his cock dragging against your sweet spot over and over. One hand still gripping your breast, he rubbed your hard nipples between his fingers.

“Gon – ah! – gonna cum.”

Your words and whining were bringing him closer and closer to the edge, about to reach his own high. “Cum for me, darling,” he whispers, hand finding your clit and rubbing circles around it as he fucked you.

You did exactly as you were instructed, crying out and gasping as your orgasm washed over you like the salty waves, Rin fucking you through the whole thing. His thrusts became more erratic as he chased his own orgasm, and soon he was cumming with grunts and moans as he released inside you, painting your walls white.

Both breathless, you stayed in the same position before Rin finally gathered the energy to pull out, watching with pride as his plentiful cum and your release dripped out of you, soaking the towel underneath you.

Twilight had finally fallen, enshrouding the two of you in the approaching darkness of the night, though the moon glowed bright. Rin held you in his arms tight, head resting on his chest and smiling.

“I love you, Rinnie,” you mumbled, mind clouded by exhaustion and post-orgasm haze.

“I love you more, beautiful.”

[poswiecenia]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: da name is miles. sometimes called kilometers as a joke , ive had the alias satan before ( stemming from the hetalia rpc from all things , we don't talk about that era ) and uh. yeah ? milays. a single mile. 

PRONOUNS: he / they baybee. 

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: usually discord but if i would rather keep distance until i can figure if we can get some dynamics going it'll likely be through the tags of posts or tumblr im's. 

NAME OF MUSE(s): man. looks at my roster. c'mon now LOL. go here to find out but my main braincell has lumine in it thank u

BEST EXPERIENCE: thinking emoji. probably running into jamey and those currently in my affiliates and developing various oc's and interconnecting plots and stuff that have found their way to the dash itself. its been super uber fun thank u.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS:

honesty when it comes to communication if something isn't a vibe to write anymore. it doesn't save fact not to say anything , it just makes situations even more dire or worse since it begins to pent up and then explode into something really bad. just be honest with what you do wanna write vs what you don't wanna write anymore. while yeah it might upset some people .. lack of communication isn't a price to pay for losing friendships or wild shit going down.

singleshipping. i can't due to trauma. and those who give the vibes that my muse interpretation is theirs and only there's but in a way that makes it uncomfortable ? miss me with that, thanks.

MUSE PREFERENCES: those that have gone through shit but are still able to be kind in some capacity even though it would've been understandable to see them crack and be cruel. characters with morally gray morals and don't see the world as a black and white slate. muses that are also full of sunshine and are innocent and haven't gone through the world to ruin that for them. characters that have a position of power or have immense power themselves and will do anything in their power to keep others safe. sad dads. old men who are tired.

PLOTS OR MEMES:  to begin things i'm usually partial to memes to get things going just due to my own braincell being unsure just yet but once things get going and im like waow this is super cool and will work . . plots fr. both are good and fun but something tickles when i can plot af.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: both. sometimes i wanna just do itty bitty meme responses and sometimes im totes down to clown with long form replies that are 1k words long or smth.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: honestly whenever. late in the afternoon into the evening sometimes flies more but its very ??? just dependent on my mood ig. sometimes i'll write 4 things then take a nap for 6 hours and then write 4 more LOL. 

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S):  some of my muses i kinda place bits of my brain into but uh ??? probably my oc's im most like bc i put pieces of my hopes into them. but beyond that idk i don't think any single muse i write is like. super like me 100%.

tagged by: @glacialswordsman + @aguilareye ( thank u guyyyyys :3 ) tagging: @draconicfool, @dawnbrst, @fckurselfie + anyone else who wanna.

[malereadermaniac]

MASTERLIST

FEM READERS DNI - this is a mlm and nblm blog!

Minors DNI if the post involves smut!!

Helloooo! Here is a list of all of my fics/links to their own masterlists

I'll be posting fics and drabbles/imagines of specific characters or (y/c) - your crush

I also repost pleanty of fics I really like, you should totes check out their profiles, I'm just trying to do my part in sharing male reader fics cause there are NONE

I try to keep my fics as inclusive as possible, as in I try to not refence skin colour and when I do keep it as open as possible

My ask-box is open, and I am happy to receive requests - however there is a very low likelihood that I will actually do the request unless it's something that I really like and I feel I could write; so please don't be offended if I ignore your ask!

Shit I might write abt:

Genshin guys

Male crush x reader

Bnha (aged up)

Danganronpa (aged up)

Camp Buddy

Haikyuu (aged up)

Pokemon

JJK (I haven't watched it tho!!)

Stranger things men

Obscure childhood crushes (teehee soz)

Anything else I wantt

I'll be updating the list below with links to all of my work :)

If some links don't work, you search up the characters same on my profile or a specific tag (pretty much all of my posts are fanfiction)

Masterlist links:

Your Crush

Haikyuu

Actors/Characters

My Hero Academia

Genshin Impact

Danganronpa

Pokemon

Miscellaneous

Camp Buddy

Mini-masterlist

Key: 🩷 Fluff 🖤Angst (and fluff usually) ❤️Nsfw

FairyTail

❤️🖤 Insecure - Natsu is insecure that he was a virgin but you weren't

🩷 Royal Secrets - You and Gray are from affluent families, your parents don't know you two are sneaking about together

Jujutsu Kaisen

🩷 Love-Hate - You wake up in Toji's bed, why this dickhead?? (Drabble/Imagine)

❤️ Someone Older - Meeting Sukuna in a club and your 'relationship' ensues

[gettinshiggywithit]

!Kirishima x Artist!Reader!

Scenario:- kiri with an s/o who’s an artist!

Pairing:- kirishima x gn!reader

Type:- headcannons

I imagine you working on the couch while kiri comes back from a mission

Hes tired and waiting to see the one person he loves most but ur complete fixated on your screen

Hed just come up behind you and sorta just bury his face in the crook of ur neck from behind the couch,his arms going to wrap around you

But soon he lets go to go and clean up

If ur still working when he comes back he doesn’t disturb you but just sits on the couch beside you,simply basking in your presence

He’s 100% you’re model

Need a pose and cant find a reference??

KIRI TO THE RESCUEEE

If youre ever feeling insecure about your art too he’d completely shut down your insecurities

Not with blind positivity

But with actually good points

Telling you that you shouldn’t compare your art to others because a) your style and speed is unique to you and no one does it like you b) the best part about art is to have fun and the moment you stop overthinking it’ll be fine

Also while he can appreciate good art nothing looks better in his eyes than your art!

Other stuff just doesn’t hit him the same way urs does

Is it because he loves you and therefore your work just has the same hold on him that you do?

Or is it just that he has a great And unbiased eye for art?(yes)

I guess we’ll never know!(oh but we dooo)

Oh also a really good point that the loml( @cloudy-zephyr) brought up,

HE WOULD DEFINITELY SHUT DOWN ALL THE BITCHES THAT SAY ART ISNT A REAL JOB OR THAT ITS EASY

If anyone even insinuates that

Buddy just gets offended af

I doubt hed cause a scene just for an off handed comment but if the offender keep goin on he’d 100% step in with a forceful and passionate couner-argument

Oh also imagine like if you ever get messages on ur socials asking for free art and you’re just LOSING IT, (because honestly entitled karens and kens are genuinely tiring to deal with🤬)

Kiri will definitely just ask for your phone and then ask you to go take a nicee warm bath to calm urself

When you come back out,the entitled folk are all dealt with! (Buddy basically just killed em with kindness and the way he handled em left no room for it to be turned on you to make u look like the bad guy!)

Also i can totes imagine you teaching him how to draw🥺

He’d be such a keen and enthusiastic learner tooo😩

God Bless this man honestly!

And i def think that all around your apartment,theref be framed pictures of your art

And youve even hung up a few of his!

He thinks they dont look good enough to which you reply with the same stuff he tells you

His style and speed are unique to him and you wouldn’t change anything for the world🥰

He kisses you on the lips and spins you around at that

I WILL ONCE AGAIN SAY THIS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN EVER SAY IT TOO MUCH

THIS MANN IS A GODDAM BLESSINGG(HES LIKE TOM HIDDLESTON IN FICTION!!)

~The end

!Wait bonus point!

I feel like at some point when the rest of the bakusquad learns of your art and how great it is they all ask you for lessons and then you have like this workshop where all the pieces created in the day go to a charity project(like raise money for kids in need and stuff cos Holy Shit does celebrity art get a lot of money) or to a lil room in your home which acts as a lil gallery for all your little group art projects!!

🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿

Tagging:- @izueli

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the mha characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but this story? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

[psychedelicstardust-gvf]

Hazy Confessions - Sam x Reader One Shot

reposting this as a one shot because i started writing the fic, but i don't wanna finish it! so here's everything i had written. let's just say it's a one shot with no clear resolution

Word Count: 2.9k

-------

Your first year of college has not gone at all how you expected it would so far. Before you moved across the country to Michigan for school, you never would have expected to be where you are. You expected to move out here and keep to yourself, maybe make a few surface-level friends to help in your classes, and overall, just stay on the down low until the end of the year.

In your first class of the fall semester, you found yourself sitting next to this eccentric boy about your age. He struck up a conversation with you immediately, telling you it was his first day as well, and asked if you wanted to hang out sometime. At first, you were hesitant, wanting to stick to your plan of not getting too attached, but after spending a few hours with him after class, you found yourself gravitating toward this boy you met. He even gave you a nickname, Flower, on the day you met because you had embroidered flowers all over your backpack.

Four months later, you consider Sam your best friend, and you two are rarely apart. You spend most of your free time with him, hanging out in your dorm after classes since it’s so close to campus, hanging at his apartment on the weekends, and occasionally sleeping over at each other’s places.

One thing in particular you love about your friendship with Sam is the weekly ritual you two started a month after meeting each other. Every Friday night, you show up at Sam’s door with a bag of snacks, dressed in comfy clothes, and an overnight bag in tow. You started sleeping over at Sam’s on the weekends because his apartment is surrounded by nature, and you like to escape the busy atmosphere of your on-campus dorm whenever possible.

So, like clockwork, Friday night rolls around and you are standing outside Sam’s door with all the supplies you gathered. Slinging your overnight bag and snack tote over your shoulder, you knock on the door. It only takes a few seconds for it to swing open, Sam bringing you into a hug as soon as you walk through the doorway. “Flower!” He squeezes you by the shoulders, “It’s been so long!”

You roll your eyes at his exclamation, having seen him earlier in the day on campus. “It’s literally been 4 hours, dumbass, now take these bags.”

“Of course, my lady,” he says, taking the bags and bowing exaggeratedly at you.

You giggle at him, then walk across the room to the corner his bed is pushed against and make yourself at home. You loved Sam’s apartment. It was a studio on the first floor of his building, nestled in a back corner with a view of the woods. It was a refreshing escape from the view at your apartment, which was mostly other concrete buildings and bustling students.

Sam placed your bags on his desk chair before picking up his laptop and opening a random streaming service. “Any requests?” he asks as he starts connecting the laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall above his desk.

“Nope, whatever you want Sammy boy, I’m not picky.” He gave you a small smile, which you return, and then he turns around to begin browsing for something to watch. In truth, you never really care what you all watch together, you just enjoying the time you spend together. There’s no doubt about the feelings you're harboring towards Sam, but there was no reason to make anything of them. You’ve been through this same situation before, where you catch feelings for a close friend, and they see you as nothing more than that. A friend. The friendship you have with Sam is so perfect, so easy, there’s no way you could let a fleeting crush ruin that.

“Okay,” Sam speaks up from his place at the desk, “how does Finding Nemo sound?” he asks, turning to face you with a little smirk adorning his lips.

“Sure, sounds good to me, I haven’t watched it in forever.” Smiling at you, he displays the movie on the TV rather than the small computer screen. You maneuver yourself around his bed, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie while also leaving room for him. When you finally settle into a comfy spot, you notice a small bag of weed sitting by his pillow before he can press play on the movie. “Ooh, Sammy, what’s this?” you ask, moving to pick up the bag.

He turns around to look at you, shrugging. “Oh, um, it’s just something I’ve been trying. Jake gave me some.” You notice him fiddling with his fingers in front of him, a slightly nervous demeanor now overtaking the relaxed one from a few moments ago. “I meant to put it away before you got here if I’m being honest.”

You feel confused by his statement. “Why is that?” you ask, feeling a tinge of sadness that he didn’t want to share this with you.

He moves across the small room, sitting next to you on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t know how you’d feel about it.” He gently takes the baggie from your hands, holding it in his lap.

You felt a wave of sympathy wash over you. “Sammy, I wish you didn’t feel like that, but I promise I’m fine with it.”

He finally looks up at you, a small smile on his lips. “Really?”

You put your hand on his knee and gave it a few pats, “Yes, really, why wouldn't I be?" You pause for a moment, trying to think of something to say. “How long have you been doing it?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, like he was trying to recall when he started. “Maybe a few weeks? I’m not really sure. Jake brought it up a while ago, but I was never really interested until recently.”

This time, you don’t respond for a while. The silence was far from awkward though. The two of you are very comfortable in each other’s presence. You finally speak up, “Will you show me how?”

He snaps his head to look at you, not expecting you to say that. “Um, yeah,” the nervous energy returned ever so slightly. “Are you sure? I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to, and I wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t, no pressure-”

“Sammyyy,” you cut him off, “Stop overthinking so much. Relax, it’s just me.” You grab one of his shoulders, squeezing it reassuringly and give him a small smile.

He smiles back at you, then gets up off the bed to kneel in front of his nightstand. “Okay then let me just get some stuff ready.” He shuffled miscellaneous items around in the drawer before pulling out a pack of rolling papers, a grinder, a rolling tray, and his lighter. “I really only have this if that’s okay.” He moved to sit next to you again, crossing his legs under him and laying the items out between you two. You folded your own legs underneath yourself, now sitting facing Sam.

You had smoked weed before, but the last time you tried it was months back home with some friends from high school, and it wasn't exactly a smooth and efficient sesh. You barely remembered how to roll a joint, but you figure you could give it your best try if Sam was willing to share this experience with you. You pull the tray into your lap, pull a rolling paper out of the package, and reach for the baggie of weed Sam was holding between his fingers.

You could feel his hesitation, his body tense and unmoving. You could barely see him breathing. “Hey,” you put your hands on the bed in front of you and lean forward to meet his eyes, “It’s just me. Everything is fine, relax.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous. I’ve never done this with anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it’s with you but I can’t help it.”

You felt a pang in your chest. This was a side of Sam you didn’t see very often. Sam is very confident and outgoing most of the time, knowing how to keep a conversation moving and scatter light jokes where they are appropriate. This Sam, anxious and insecure, was one that came out very rarely, and you felt lucky that he was comfortable letting this side of himself show around you.

In an attempt to calm his nerves, you moved over to lean against the wall his bed was pushed up against. You pat the space next to you and look at him with a gentle expression. “Come on, sit next to me. We’ll do this together.”

He seemed to relax at your gesture, crawling across the bed and plopping down next to you. You pulled the tray back into your lap and start to roll a joint.

-------

“I mean it’ll definitely probably work,” Sam joked as you held up the newly rolled joint in your fingers. You shot a playful glare in his direction, then turned your attention back to the rolled-up paper between your fingers. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t really matter to either of you.

“Do you want to go first?” he asked you, his nervous energy gone for the most part.

You were starting to feel a little nervous yourself. What if you don’t do it right? What if you have a coughing fit? What if you drop the joint on his sheets and light his bedroom on fire? Realistically, you know everything will be fine because you were with Sam, but you couldn’t help catastrophizing a little (a lot). “I haven’t done this in a long time,” you confessed, “I think I want to see how you do it first.”

“Yeah, sure.” He shuffled in his spot, scooting closer to you on the bed. He took the joint from your hand and brought it to his lips, his free hand bringing the lighter to the twisted end of the joint. You studied his face as he flicked the lighter, his eyebrows knit together in concentration, lips pursed tightly to hold the piece of paper in place.

A puff of smoke left his mouth as the joint finally lit, and he took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before slowly exhaling into the air. You watched in awe, replaying the image of Sam blowing out smoke repeatedly in your head. Suddenly enraptured by the man sitting next to you, you didn’t notice Sam saying your name until you felt a gentle touch on your knee.

Snapping back into reality, you looked up at Sam. He was already looking at you, the remnants of his anxiety peeking through his expression. “Hey, you okay?”

You nodded your head and took a breath, trying to ground yourself. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You reached between you and Sam to grab the joint from his fingers. You started to bring it up to your face but stopped a few centimeters from your lips. “Um,” you uttered nervously, “how exactly do I…” Your voice trailed off as you tried to figure out your words.

Sam scooted even closer to you on the bed, abandoning all space so your thighs were now touching. “Here, I’ll try to do my best to explain.” Hoping to calm you down, he gently rested his hand on your knee. “When you have the joint between your lips, think about filling your lungs rather than inhaling, if that makes sense. Then try to hold it for as long as you can before you let it out.”

You listened to his instructions and tried to remember them as clearly as you could as you brought the joint up to your lips. You try to do as he said, thinking about filling your lungs and holding it in, but when you went to let out the smoke you started coughing.

When you finally came out of your coughing fit you looked at Sam just to see him giggling at you. “What?” you say, “I’m a little out of practice, Sammy,” you joked in an attempt to play off the terrible hit you just took.

Sam takes the joint from you, “I’m not saying anything about it,” he puts the joint between his lips once again and takes another long drag, this time blowing the smoke directly at your face. You swat his leg and glare at him playfully, and he is smiling goofily at you when the smoke clears. “Here,” he says, passing you the joint once more, “Try again, but this time try not to inhale SO much, don’t overestimate how much smoke can fit in your lungs.”

You take the joint from him, “Okay Mr. Professional,” you joke, causing him to laugh that stoner laugh of his you love so much. His hand is still resting on your knee, calming you down enough to be comfortable attempting a second hit. You bring the joint up to your lips and take Sam’s advice, imagining filling your lungs with smoke, but not too much that you start coughing. This time when you exhale, there are no coughs making their way up your throat, just the cloud of smoke disappearing into the room.

“See,” Sam squeezes your knee, “Now you got it Ms. Professional.”

You and Sam make quick work of finishing the joint, the movie long forgotten by the time Sam is putting out the roach in the ashtray on his nightstand. At this point, you are beginning to slump more and more into the wall, a satisfying buzz clouding your mind. Sam leaves the bed for a moment to put music on his computer instead of the abandoned movie, returning to his previous spot right next to you.

You look over at him just to find him already looking at you. “Hi.” You smile at him, your faces only inches apart, but no intentions of anything more than just being close to one another.

“Hi,” Sam responds with a gentle smile.

“I’m so glad I met you,” you say with a goofy smile on your face, suddenly finding yourself speaking with no filter. “Oop, sorry,” you giggled and covered your face with your hand.

“Sappy, are we?” Sam joked before grabbing your hand and gently pulling your hand away from your face and into his lap where he held it in his own. “I’m just kidding, Flower, I’m glad I met you too.”

A comfortable atmosphere settled over the room, you and Sam sitting on his bed pleasantly buzzed, and nothing except the sound of each other’s breathing and the soft ambient music Sam had playing on his computer. You wished things could be like this all the time, just you and Sam and nothing outside of these walls.

But unfortunately, reality has a way of ruining your fantasies. With Sam holding your hand so delicately in his, you are confronted with the romantic feelings for him you have been holding back in favor of protecting the friendship. The way he is mindlessly caressing your knuckles with his thumb is reason for pause though. Is he holding your hand as an innocent display of affection between friends, or is there some deeper meaning to it?

Either way, you can't deal with the stress of the question right now, so you try to enjoy the feeling while you can.

“Your hands are so soft,” you hear him say after a few minutes of him holding your hand. He drags his fingers across the back of your hand, gently grabbing your wrist and flipping your hand to have your palm facing up. He brings his other hand over and matches it to yours, observing the difference in size. His eyes are locked on the place where your hands meet. “And they’re so tiny, how have I never realized this?” he says as he intertwines his fingers in yours.

Butterflies. That’s what you’re feeling in your belly as he says this to you. “I have no idea Sammy, maybe because we don’t make a habit of holding each other’s hands.”

When you look up from where your hand is in his, you find him already looking you in the eyes. He studies your face for a second before he says, “Maybe we should make it a habit.”

Seriously? Is he implying what you think he is? He couldn’t possibly. But then why is he saying that and looking at you like that? No, no, this can’t happen, Sam is your best friend, you can’t let this be ruined. You have to do something.

“Yeah,” you sigh, still holding eye contact, “Maybe we should.”

PANIC. That did not help. That was almost definitely the opposite of what you wanted to say.

PANIC. Is he starting to lean in? He flicks his eyes to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

PANIC? His face is so close to yours now, only a little closer and he would be close enough to-

 “Want a break from the ads?”

The moment is abruptly cut off by Sam’s stupid refusal to pay for music streaming services. His eyes immediately drop from yours and snap to the laptop where the music had been playing. “Fucking seriously,” he mutters as he backs away from you and reluctantly lets go of your hand to make his way over to the laptop.

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

CABO

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

CABO!

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Brownies aren’t harmful or are they? This is set after their graduation.

Warnings: mentions of drugs and being high as a kite. Video call sex.

A/N:  English is not my first language, any mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

Word count: 1849

GIF not mine. You can find the credits of the GIF underneath it.

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Annie was lounging in her chair, sunglasses on, enjoying of the sun light to the fullest. Sharon and Mark were at the pool bar getting drinks and talking to some people they met the night before at a club. Annie was just relaxing when all of the sudden her stomach growled, she sat down and reached for Sharon’s tote bag, she knew Sharon might have something to eat, she always did. It wasn’t long before Annie found a cellophane bag with a brownie inside. She opened and proceeded to eat it.

“Margarita for An…What are you doing?!” Mark said

“Eating.” She took the last piece of brownie and shoved to her mouth.

“Oh god. Did you really eat the whole thing?!”

“Well, yeah. You know me, brownie, chocolate, couldn’t resist.”

Sharon came walking holding her drink, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Mark grabbed by her arm and walked a bit away from Annie who was now drinking her margarita.

“She ate the brownie, the whole brownie.”

“What brownie?”

“I bought a brownie when we went out last night.”

“Argh, big deal, she ate your brownie, buy a new one! Don’t be selfish!”

“No, it was a special brownie, and she ate it all!”

Sharon just stared to Mark, his words sinking in to her head, “OH!” She turned to see Annie, “How much time do we have before she starts to feel funny?”

“I don’t know, you’re supposed to eat just a small bite.”

It was just 15 minutes later when Annie laughed out of nowhere. Mark and Sharon shared a worried look, then Annie stood and tried to walk but then again she laughed.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Mark asked.

“The ants are tickling my feet.” She giggled.

“We better take her to the room.” Sharon said and stood to grab her friend and made her walk towards the hotel. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you tell me you put it in my bag?!” Sharon said as Annie put her weight against her.

“In my defense I never thought she will find it and eat it.” Mark answer as he hold Annie for the waist.

“She had never had pot before!”

“And how was I supposed to know she was going to eat the whole brownie.”

“I love you guys, so, so much!” Annie said as she burst out laughing.

“Yeah, we love you too, we need to take to you the room.” Mark said.

“I love the room!” Annie said overly excited.

They walked carrying Annie to the many halls of the hotel in Mexico, everyone staring at them as Annie kept laughing or singing as they pretty much dragged her.

“If Andy finds out, he is going to kill us!” Sharon said as Mark opened the door. “No, wait! You! He is gonna kill you! And trust me I will not save you!”

“He is never gonna know. It will be our little secret.” Mark carried Annie to bed. “Ok, you are staying here, we will come back in a couple of hours, try to sleep. Do you understand?” Annie lifted her thumbs up and nodded with her eyes closed. “Perfect! If you need anything you call us, ok?” She nodded as Mark gave her her phone. “Come on. She will be better when she wakes up.”

They left leaving Annie in bed high as a kite, she sat down and turned the TV on.

“Pretty pictures.” She mumbled as the images on TV moved in slow motion.

She then turned to her right, the room phone on the nightstand. She pick up and then she heard a voice.

“Hotel Riu Palace, ¿en qué podemos ayudarle?”

“Ammm, no Spanish… spañol…” The truth was Annie actually spoke a bit of Spanish, enough to communicate but she didn’t know where her Spanish went because she couldn’t remember any words as much as she tried.

“Oh! No problem miss! How can I help you?”

“M’hungry.”

“Very well, anything in particular you want to eat?”

“Pizza.”

“Alright miss, I will pass your order to the kitchen and it will be up in 20 minutes tops. Anything else I can help you with?”

“Nop! Gracies!”

She kept watching TV as she waited for her pizza for what she felt was 3 hours. Her body was tingling, it was like ants were walking over her skin and she felt extremely relaxed.  She was dozing off when a knock on the door alert her.

“Room service!”

She walked towards the door and carefully open the door.

“Miss, did you order a pizza?”

“I like pizza.”

“Good! Can I come in so I let your pizza on the table?”

“You stranger, no coming in.”

“Mmmm well, I can just give you the plate then?” Annie nodded and the guy on the other side of the door passed her the plate with the pizza. “Enjoy your meal!”

“Wait!” Annie let her plate on the bed and took a 100 dollar bill and gave it to the guy at the door. “Thank you!”

“Miss, this is too…” Annie closed the door in his face, “much.” He shrugged and left.

Annie laid down in bed again, putting the plate on her tummy and began to eat. It was the best pizza she had ever tasted, all the flavors danced in her mouth as she bite the dough with cheese. She took her phone as she kept chewing her pizza and dial Andy’s phone.

Andy was at home, it was a Saturday afternoon after all. Jake was napping after a long day at soccer practice when he saw the picture of Annie on the screen of his phone. A facetime call, how cute, Andy thought.

“Hi, honey!” Andy could only see Annie’s forehead, “Amm honey?”

“Baby! Hi! Where are you?”

“Honey, put your phone away from your face, I can’t see you.” Annie moved her phone her droopy face now on full display, “There she is! How is Cabo?”

“Baby, I have to tell you… bout the best pizza ever!” She dragged her words as she bite the pizza.

“Ammm ok, how is this pizza?”

“I don’t know! But it’s soooo delicious.”

“Honey, are you ok? You sound off.”

“M’fine! I was at the pool and then I was hungry and had a brownie and then I ate pizza.”

“What brownie?” Andy raised his brow.

“You know, the chocolate one. Uh! It had chips on it!”

“Honey, are you high?”

“No, I’m in bed! Bed no high!” She burst out laughing when she said that.

“My god, you are fucking high!”

“You fucking high!” She tried to imitate his worried voice and then laughed again.

“Honey, listen to me, I need you to go to the bathroom and made yourself throw up ok?”

“Iugh! No vomit!” Annie then looked away and then again to the screen, “Baby! Where are you? I miss you!”

“I miss you too. But, hey tell me where you got this brownie.”

“It was in the bag.”

Andy knew he wasn’t going to get any information out of her in this state, so he just sighed and kept talking to her.

“Baby, do you think this looks good?” She grabbed her boobs, pushed them together and pulled her bikini, the red fabric barely covering her soft brown nipples that Andy loved so much. He could already see the tan lines on her skin.

“Hmmm, looks very good actually.” Andy had a dark thought, “You look really sexy. How about if you show me the other half.”

Annie nodded eagerly and placed her phone in the bed, she turned and showed him her ass; her bottom was a tropic cut that was now sticking between her butt cheeks.

“Fuck, honey.” Andy’s hand reached for his semi hard dick in his grey pants. “You look amazing.”

Andy saw Annie pulled the strings on her top and bottom, she wiggled the clothes away, turned and made herself comfortable against the pillows. Andy was hard by now, his hand in his pants squeezing his cock.

“Open those legs for me baby, come on.”

She did as she was told, her left hand going to her breast, while the right hand went down to touch her clit using her middle finger.

“Fuck!” Annie moaned, her small circles soon enough became faster.

Andy took off his sweatpants, his cock throbbing in his hand as he stroke it and the red tip began to leaked. His gaze fixed on the screen of his phone, watching every move Annie made, her fingers went south to touch her entrance. Andy was mesmerized watching how two of her small fingers disappear in her warm, wet hole.

“Yes, honey, fuck yourself, come on.” Andy said as he kept stroking his cock. “Imagine those fingers is my cock.” Annie moaned loud. “You like that?”

“Yes! Oh god!” Annie’s pace raised, her fingers coming in and out of her sloppy cunt. “Andy!”

“Yeah, that’s right baby, I know you’re close. Touch your clit, honey.”

Annie’s left hand went down to touch her bundle of nerves, electricity running through her body as she touched it slightly and her fingers kept coming in and out.

“Yes, honey. Just like that. You’re doing so well.”

Annie’s moans grew lauder as her climax approached. Her tights shook when the pleasure wave hit her body. A hollow moan filling the room. Andy grunted as he came in his hand and stomach making a mess with his white load.

Both panted and took deep breaths as they came down of their high. Andy smiled when he saw Annie’s thighs were still shaking a bit a lazy smile on her lips. He stood up and went to the bathroom to clean himself up and put his pants back on. When he came back Annie was still where he left her.

“Honey?”

“Hmmm?” She hummed sleepily.

“Pick up the phone.”

She did and look at the screen, her hair was a mess. Andy found endearing and cute the redness in her nose and cheeks.

“Ok, honey. Listen to me. You are gonna drink water, and then I need you to go to sleep.”

She nodded “I feel sick.” She whispered.

“I know, I promise it’ll pass if you sleep.”

She followed his instructions, Andy never ending the call, waiting for her to come back to bed. She laid down, cover her naked body with the white sheet, her eyes heavy with sleep.

“Promise to stay with me until I fall asleep.”

“I’ll be here, honey”

10 minutes passed and Annie was fully sleep now, she looked at peace which made Andy smiled lovingly. He was about to end the call when he heard two voices.

“Hey, look, she is actually sleeping.” Sharon whispered.

“Thank god! I was worried she might done something crazy.”

“Hey, you two!” Andy said a bit loud and Annie groaned.

Sharon looked down at Annie’s phone in her hand and picked it up.

“Oh, hi, Andy! Were you guys talking? That’s so cute!”

“Whose brownie did she eat?!”

“You’re doomed.” Sharon said as she passed the phone to Mark.

“I can explain!”

[tikus-library]

"Twisted Fates"

Original Fiction - Chapter 2

Previous

Characters: The Void x The Red Knight

Posted: July 20th

WARNINGS: violence?

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Continue Reading on Ao3

They called him The Void for various reasons. 

His powers for one. The ability to open black holes had never been easy to control, it was the one he concentrated on the most, never ending, never resting. He had lost plenty to the damned curse, he didn't need to lose his life to it.

Soft whisps of darkness inked from him, like so much smoke drifting, concentrated he could open various sizes. When he had first begun he had quickly learned to be able to use them to walk through walls, then he found he could throw literally anything into them and shut it away. He could not recall finding anything once he had done that.

They were useful when needing to get rid of problems, he also found if he set an item in it and shut it on said item he could literally cut it in half. This included any material, various metals, concrete– even flesh and bones.

The Void. He showed no emotion. Expression always one of boredom. With eyes that gave no color except of the inky darkness that came with death. No kindness behind them. None knew where he came from either. 

He tilted his head to the side, leaned forwards and reached out, long sure gloved fingers slipping over a dark bruise, green and yellow accentuated the spot and he frowned. The Red Knight lay stretched out before him utterly defenseless. 

The Red Knight. 

He huffed as he took in the damage. Black tactical pants were intact save for a long cut along the right thigh, tight black undershirt had seen better days. The black leather jacket with red accents he usually wore was of no use, beyond repair. 

Olivander had it tossed, along with the tattered gloves and mask. He watched as his medic and his team came in and set to work, cleaning the Knight up; stitching and bandaging cuts, binding the man's ribs. "He'll need to be careful, surprised he didn't puncture a lung…"

"Mm" he cocked his head, looking over the arsenal that had been set to the side. He toyed with the metal hilt of the sword, it had taken him seconds to figure the weapon out, and truly he loved it, delighted in it. If one had the ability to bring the blade to life it came out, he had been surprised to find the black blade pleasing to look upon and wondered why he had never seen it before during his fights with the man. Was it new? The one the Knight usually toted around was white, perhaps he had added to his weaponry? 

Black eyes slid back to the face of his enemy. Enemy. 

It seemed like forever since their paths had crossed. It had been the Red Knight that had given him his first wound since he had started, the cocky grin that had slid on his face when he had fallen back in surprise had infuriated the Void. He had attacked without thinking, no one cut him, no one touched him.

And yet it had been this idiot with the boastful laughter that had him– enjoying the rigorous activity of a well fought battle.

It had been one he would seek out again. One he sought to face another day.

He turned his gaze back to the sword in hand. No need to look at the bruised jawline of the knight, no need to watch the medic apply a bandage to the large cut across his forehead. 

The medic looked at his teammate who gave him a questioning look. "We are done sir."

He nodded, watching as they cleaned up and stepped out quietly. Gaze slipping back to the body on his bed. 

What to do now?

*

Groggy. His entire body ached.

He had done it now. 

Rook gave a little grunt as he lifted a heavy arm, his body refusing to work with him as he dropped a hand to his face and immediately regretted it. He couldn't remember getting back home, but the bed under him gave way as pain rippled through him chased closely by nausea, he sat up, reaching out blindly before catching the edge of the trash bin and dragging it close, getting sick.

His ribs hurt, one or two must be broken– the memory of steel tipped boots contacting and the sound of his rib cracking as his entire body was lifted with the violent action made his head swim. There had been so many hands and feet, elbows and a metal pipe he was sure. How the fuck had he come out of that alive? A gloved hand fell on his exposed neck, a cool cloth following, Rook let out a small sigh of relief at the coolness against his overheated skin.

He jerked, again, instant regret. Still, he launched himself to his feet, something his body vehemently argued against. 

There was a chuckle as he swayed dangerously. "What did I tell you little Knight? Hmm? You've underestimated your injuries-" he chided and reached out, pausing when the man shoved him. "You're weak," he growled. 

Rook grimaced when hands shoved him back, the motion sent him onto his back into soft bedding and he scrambled back as The Void leaned over him. "Whatever you're up to–" his voice cracked, rope- he remembered rope wrapped around his throat– being dragged as he tried to catch a gasp of breath, the harsh material cutting into his skin as he choked- helpless.

The sound of a solid click made him stop, bringing him out of quick flashes of memory, the ache in his ribs made him drag in deep breaths. Black eyes stared down at him, one dark thick eyebrow raising and he realized too late what the sound was. "VOID–!" he bit out as the man pulled back, leaving him suddenly cold. Still, he pulled at the cuffs, planting his foot against the wall beside the bed to give himself more leverage. 

"Can you behave?" 

"I don't know what game you're playing-" he bit out, flinching at the sudden burst of pain in his throat, again his voice was more rasp than grit. He flinched at the prick in his shoulder focusing on the pinch, somewhat surprised to see a needle there. His body refused to work for him in seconds, giving in to the drug almost immediately, "V–" he gasped, as if it was truly a surprise that his enemy would do such a thing. Void had killed people right in front of him without a blink.

Strong gloved hands gathered him up, "I would rather not sedate you, but perhaps for a few days… seeing as you are hell bent on damaging yourself," he sighed.

Rook growled, it was short lived as his head detached and the world slipped away, even as he was tucked in under soft covers.

*

He wasn't sure how long he had been sedated, but when he woke he was alone, and there was food on the table beside him. He was no longer cuffed to the bed, but the restraints were left there, perhaps as a reminder. His ribs were bound and his eye was healing, the swelling had gone down, the throbbing had stopped or rather it had become bearable.

He was careful when he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and ignored the food and drink in favor of trying the door. It was unlocked! He swung it open and paused as a large henchman turned to face him, easily double his size. Rook took inventory of his injuries as the man stepped towards him and slammed the door shut. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckkk," he leaned against the door, reaching back to lock it, his head was still foggy. 

V had apparently kidnapped him. But there was no one to pay the ransom, not for him. Shit. 

"Haven't even touched the soup? I worked very hard on that for you." Rook jumped as V stepped into the room via the wall, dark inky smoke trailing behind him before the black hole disappeared. "Don't bother looking for a weapon, we've taken those from you for the time being, you'll get them back later."

"Later?! What are you playing at Void?! What is this?" He demanded, holding an arm carefully around his ribs, taking a careful step back, knowing the door stopped him. 

Black eyes blinked at him innocently, "you were apprehended in the most crude of ways, I simply leveled the playing field," he answered, shrugging nonchalantly. 

What was he supposed to make of that? This wasn't how this was supposed to go. "You're joking" he said, he saw the shift immediately, but couldn't react in time. 

A hand wrapped around his throat and he was slammed against the hard unyielding door with enough force that it knocked the wind out of him, he scrambled to wrap his hands around his foes forearm, tried to shove him off, he couldn't breathe, he bared his teeth, it was all he could do.

"Do not make a mockery of my hospitality," Void bit out, ignoring the way Knight shoved at him. "You are beyond weak at this point, all it takes is a well placed punch–"

If he couldn't breathe before, Void's fist in his gut made sure there was nothing left in his lungs. He dropped like a sack of potatoes when his enemy finally stepped away, letting him go.  

The man infuriated him. And look at what he had done now. He turned on his heel and stepped out, leaving the hero curled in on himself on the cold floor.

[oddlies-a]

YOUR MUSE'S INVENTORY. [original meme from @treasurechestrpmemes​.]

rules: list the things your muse carries in their pockets or bags in their every day life. (optional: explain their significance.) repost, don’t reblog.

POCKETS.

wallet- it's just a simple brown leather wallet. filled with small bills, a debit card in modern verse, and some spare change. also contains a picture of him and a platoon buddy in main verse. ain't much else in it.

two pens- never know when you'll need one. keeps two, one as a backup.

cell phone (modern verse)- probably one of the most expensive items he owns. it's some sort of iphone. he did invest in a sturdy case for it, as he can't really pay for a replacement. it's not really decorative.

pocket knife- for protection? for opening things? who knows! either way, he carries it with him at all times.

BAG.

if he carries a bag, it's some kind of tote bag or messenger bag. nothing too fancy, just enough to hold his belongings.

notebook/planner- for notes, important dates, and any doodles he feels like making. mostly used to keep up with therapy dates, his work schedule, and anything else important that he needs help remembering.

thermos (main)/refillable water bottle (modern)- a thermos for lunch, such as soup, or water. the refillable water bottle is just another way he likes to keep up trying to help the environment, plus it keeps his water cold.

harmonica- he loves to carry it around and play it sometimes, much to the chagrin of the people around him.

name badge(main)/work badge (modern)- gotta have these handy on the near daily. he brings his bag with him nearly everywhere, so it's best to keep these important items close to him.

Some random book he's currently reading- something he may or may not remember to return on time to the library. varies in genre. sometimes he doesn't even get to reading it.

tagged by: @the27percent ty <3 tagging: YOU !!!!

[jjorbles]

(Repost) Why Batman should never use guns

Note: This article was originally posted September 16th, 2014 on the Agony Booth, which I used to write for. Since that site is sadly no longer with us, I’m reposting my old articles here.

Oh, Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. Will I ever not be talking about you? Every time I think I’m done and can forget about you until next year, another damn picture comes out that I have to discuss. It’s beginning to feel like watching Zack Snyder’s Twitter feed is my whole job now.

In this case, as you’re likely already aware, the picture under scrutiny is the above image of the new Batmobile design. I’m not a fan of it overall; maybe it’s just the angle, but it seems to be a knockoff of the “Tumbler” from Christopher Nolan’s movies with a minimal hint of the ‘89 look. It’s just plain ugly with no style and nothing recognizably “Batmobile-ish” about it*.

[*So hopefully they’ll never actually call it the Batmobile, like they did with the Tumbler, so I don’t have to ever recognize it as the actual Batmobile.]

But aesthetics aren’t what we’re here to talk about. What I’m here to focus on are these things right here:

As if it wasn’t tank-like enough already, this new “Batmobile” has a prominently displayed gun turret on its front hood. There is some precedent for this: I’m told the Batmobile in the upcoming Arkham Knight video game has a similar look, and the Batmobile in the ‘89 film sported hidden artillery under the hood. But this is the first time a movie has featured Batman driving something quite so aggressively militarized in appearance. Likely, it’s meant as yet another reference to The Dark Knight Returns, which from all accounts Dawn of Justice is heavily influenced by, and which featured a huge, tank-like Batmobile armed with rubber bullet-loaded cannons.

As with anything that involves Batman and guns, controversy is unavoidable. The Caped Crusader has a long and complicated history with firearms, and even among the fans, there’s still much disagreement on what Batman’s relationship with guns is or should be. Like any fan, I have an opinion of my own, and given the title of this post, you can probably guess what it is. I don’t think Batman should use guns, regardless of what they’re mounted on. There are reasons for this beyond the political*. It goes straight to the whole idea and psychology of the character.

[*But in the interest of full disclosure: I support gun control, and tend to gravitate towards fictional characters with an aversion to guns. So feel free to pigeonhole anything else I say as part of my “agenda”, if it makes you feel better.]

For context, let’s go back to the beginning. When Batman first appeared in the pages of Detective Comics, as pro Bat-turret supporters are quick to point out, he had no issue with guns or lethal force in general. In those early days, he was frequently seen carrying a pistol, and he sometimes casually slew his enemies, or at the very least showed no remorse when the occasional crook bit it along the way.

However, this gun-toting Batman was very short-lived, lasting only a handful of issues. Batman in these early stories had yet to really develop an identity of his own, borrowing heavily from the Shadow, with a little bit of Zorro thrown in. After his origin was eventually established, writers latched onto the idea of Batman having a code of conduct that forbade using firearms or killing his enemies, and it stuck. It’s become every bit as iconic and important to his character as the death of his parents. Almost every time Batman has been seen holding a gun, it’s universally recognized as code for “Something is seriously wrong with Batman!” Often, it appears on covers as a WTF tease to suck readers in. In many ways, the gun, or at least the use of one, is Batman’s equivalent of kryptonite.

But while it’s pretty universally accepted that Batman doesn’t use guns as a rule in the comics, the movies tend to be less consistent. In seven films, there’s only been one concrete reference to Batman refusing to use guns, when he tells Selina Kyle, “No guns, no killing,” in The Dark Knight Rises. And while no director has ever gone so far as to have Batman pick up a glock, many playfully skirt around the issue any way they can.

As previously mentioned, the Batmobile and other vehicles piloted by the Dark Knight frequently feature guns and other artillery. The rule against killing has been even more brazenly ignored, with Batman frequently sending foes to certain death with either casual indifference or willful intent, the most galling of which was the infamous “I won’t kill you, but I don’t have to save you” moment from the end of Batman Begins.

This has, I’ve noticed, led to a certain divide among Batman fandom. For fans who mostly know the character from the movies, his rules against guns and killing are far less firmly established than it is for fans of the comics or the various animated series. This has led to a large portion of Batman fans coming to the conclusion that Batman’s code is not a hard and fast rule, or if it is, it shouldn’t be. They argue that Batman not killing his foes or refusing to use a gun under any circumstances is impractical. In real life, in order to truly make an impact on crime, Batman would have to kill people, and throwing the Joker repeatedly back in Arkham only to have him escape again and kill more people isn’t doing anyone any good.

To me, this argument misses the point of Batman entirely. First, it’s completely irrelevant to argue practicality about fictional stories, especially stories in science fiction or fantasy settings like comic books. Yes, in the real world, Batman would probably find himself in desperate kill-or-be-killed situations that would force him to off people quite frequently. But Batman doesn’t live in the real world. He lives in Gotham City, an exaggerated pulp/noir universe perpetually stuck in a pseudo-‘30s art deco world where a gangster movie is happening on every street corner every damn night. Batman doesn’t find himself in those situations because the writers are under no obligation to put him in those situations. Batman’s entire arsenal and fighting style are designed around nonlethal force. Batman can always take care of any situation with a Batarang instead of a gun, because it’s fiction and he can do whatever the writers need him to do. And the reason he keeps imprisoning the Joker over and over despite how futile it seems is no one wants to kill off Batman’s most popular nemesis. Duh.

But more importantly, arguing practicality with Batman is especially pointless, because Batman doesn’t do what he does for practical reasons. In case you didn’t notice, the entire premise of Batman is entirely impractical. If Batman really wanted to combat crime, he’d do far more good simply using his personal fortune to improve the police force, or better yet, to improve the economic situation of the city to wipe out poverty, a proven cause of high crime rates. Dressing up as his childhood boogeyman and going around taking down criminals one at a time would have almost no effect on crime overall. It’s a pointless endeavor that would, at best, only serve to feed his own guilty conscience.

So why do it then? Why become Batman? This is supposedly the “World’s Greatest Detective”; surely, he knows somewhere deep down that this isn’t the best way to go about things. The answer is pretty simple: Batman didn’t become Batman to wipe out crime. He became Batman in order to be the guy he wishes had been there the night his parents were killed.

Bruce Wayne isn’t fighting crime in a practical sense. He’s fighting the idea of crime, and his idea of crime is personified in Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents. That’s what a criminal is to him. That’s what he must fight, and to do that, he must become crime’s opposite, which for him means Joe Chill’s opposite. Joe Chill was a coward, thus criminals are a “superstitious and cowardly lot”. Joe Chill killed his parents, therefore Batman must never kill. Joe Chill carried a gun, therefore Batman will never use guns. Batman doesn’t shun even the brandishing of guns because he has no use for one, but because guns, to him, are the symbol of everything he’s fighting against. Guns are the tools of superstitious and cowardly criminals. Batman, in his mind, is above them. Murder is an act of desperation that the cowardly Joe Chill resorted to, and Batman must never stoop so low. Batman is anti-crime, and if “crime” is Joe Chill, than Batman must never be anything like Joe Chill, even in appearance.

Batman’s entire character has revolved around this concept ever since the classic story “The Origin of Batman” from Batman #47*. In it, Batman finally tracks down Joe Chill, and must decide what to do now that he’s found him. It’s the defining moment for the character, when he chooses not to take revenge and not to kill.

[*This story was beautifully retold in an episode of Batman: The Brave and the Bold titled “Chill of the Night!”, which you should definitely check out if you haven’t seen it.]

The best Batman stories are usually about this difference between justice and vengeance. Even Batman Begins touched on this point: “Justice is about harmony, revenge is about you making yourself feel better.” Chill is crime and injustice personified, therefore Batman is justice personified. Batman must never kill or carry a gun, not because it wouldn’t do any good to anyone, but because if he did, he wouldn’t be Batman anymore. To kill would make him like the criminal, the enemies of justice, and guns have no purpose but to kill. Guns are the tool of the criminal and therefore unjust. Batman is the enemy of the criminal and must never resort to their tactics.

I’m not necessarily saying this is a correct or even healthy worldview. I’m saying this is how Batman sees things. It’s the entire point of his character. And the more we get away from it, the more he ceases to be Batman. His story begins to lose all meaning, and he becomes just another vigilante action hero. So yeah, Batman driving around in a friggin’ tank bothers me. We’ve already seen these filmmakers get Superman wrong, we’ve seen signs that they’re getting Wonder Woman wrong, and now it seems like not even Batman is going to feel like himself in this movie. You may disagree, but to me, this is yet another sign that this movie is going to be oppressively dull.