#I do try to take care with his clothes

[garashir]

my first playthrough I would grow out arthurs hair and beard each chapter then chop it all off when the gang would move camps in order to avoid being recognized for immersion sake…now I only care about how he looks for taking screenshots

[otaku553]

Haha

[jadewritesficshere]

Dream A Little Dream of Me

Steddie. Contains: wet dreams, arguments, makeouts. 18+only

Eddie groaned, hands running down someone's spine before grabbing their hips.

"You're so fucking perfect," He gasped out. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin filled the air intermingled with moans. "Harder," the person gasps, reaching a hand back. Eddie moves his hand to hold the hand of the person. He glances up to the face peering back at him, into Steve-

Eddie jolts awake with a gasp. His heart beats fast as he tries to catch his breath. His skin is soaked in sweat and realizes that his boxers are soaked with his own release. Which, what's more embarrassing, waking up after coming or having a wet dream about your best friend?

Eddie shakes his head to try and get rid of his thoughts. He runs a hand over his head pushing his hair back as he exhales. "Damn," Eddie mumbles," Just a dream." He slowly gets up to handle the situation in his boxers, unsure if he's disappointed that it wasn't real.

~~~~~~

Eddie isn't a stranger to sexy dreams. He's, to put it plainly, horny. It isn't like he's had much experience, just the guy or girl who has sucked him off in the bathroom at the bar.

So- horny. Eddie knows that can fuel dreams. He once dreamt he was making out with the news anchor on the local news. He dreamt he fucked a fruit once, which almost tempted him to try it.

But point is, Eddie's had dreams like this before. He's been able to brush them off.

But this dream about Steve...

All Eddie can see now is Steve beneath him. Mouth around him. Eddie in him. Every position is running rampant in Eddie's brain.

He feels like everything Steve does now is obscene. The way Steve's muscles flex in his bicep as he puts movies away. The way he moves his hips as he shimmies dancing with Robin. The curl of his lip as he snarls and bitches about customers, just begging to have Eddie's own lips pressed against them. The curls of chest hair peeking out over his shirt, taunting Eddie to run a hand through it. The moles and freckles dancing across his skin, begging Eddie to trace them with his tongue.

Eddie thinks he's losing his mind. He also thinks Steve has to know, and is doing things on purpose just to drive him insane. What ever happened to squatting down to pick up something off the ground? Now Steve is just bending at the waist, ass pressed all up against those jeans, taunting him.

Eddie's emotions are everywhere. One minute he wants to confess his love like for Steve. The next he wants to throttle Steve for making him feel this way. One minute he's jerking off, gasping and moaning as euphoria hits. The next he feels insanely guilty for thinking about his best friend that way.

It gets worse when Steve notices.

Well, Eddie thinks he notices. Steve's eyes seem to stay on him a bit too long. Steve's hands grip his shoulder and squeeze too much. Eddie can't survive this torture. Those beautiful eyes peering into his own, Eddie knows one glimpse and Steve could see his entire being.

Eddie just has to ignore it. If he can ignore it, things can go back to normal. He can deal with it dwelling in the back of his mind. He has for years, ever since seeing Steve on the swimming team- which, great now he's remembering those short trunks on his muscular thighs and-

Eddie screams into a pillow, cursing a few times for added emphasis. Why does Steve have to be so hot? So good? So Steve. Eddie bites the pillow, glaring at the wall over the top of it. Just ignore it, push it back down. But as his cock hardens, he can't help his hand reaching down and thinking, just one more time.

~~~~~~

"Okay, enough!" Steve glares, hands on his hips. Eddie has to try to restrain himself from looking at Steve's hips, his crotch. "What?" Eddie bites back, arms crossing.

Steve huffs and shakes his head," What is with this attitude? If you didn't want to hang out you didn't have to come over!"

Eddie's eyes narrow at the tone. Steve's voice has the same angry bitchy tone he uses when talking about the Worst Customers. Steve is using that voice talking about him.

"I don't have a fucking attitude princess! Maybe watch your damn tone." Eddie throws his hands up and leans back into the couch further. "My tone!? My tone!?" Steve barks out a laugh," What about yours?"

"I don't have a fucking tone!" Eddie glares. Okay, maybe he does. But how's a man supposed to act when their crush answered the door shirtless? Letting his eyes wander down his chest to his happy trail to-

"You've been a sarcastic little bitch all evening!" Steve steps forward, finger pointing against Eddie's chest," You're glaring, you're pouting, rolling your eyes. You're in a fucking mood, don't take it out on me! I didn't do anything!" With each word, Steve jabs his finger against Eddie's chest.

Eddie snatches Steve's wrist, emotions bubbling over as he yells," Yes, you did!"

Steve's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. The fire in his eyes dies out. "Oh," Steve pauses," I didn't..." Steve tries to remove his hand from Eddie's grasp, causing him to panic and tighten his hold.

"I'm sor-" "Fuck, Steve. I didn't mean it like that." Eddie sighs," You're just...you." "If this is the whole "it's not you it's me" speech I don't want to-" "You're beautiful."

Steve freezes at Eddie's words. Eddie can't help but continue," You're fucking gorgeous man. Your arms, your legs, you know your ass looks good. (Steve hums in agreement) A person who looks that good should have a terrible personality. But you don't! You're kind, protective, selfless. I could go on, I just, damn man. You're the total package and I can't stop thinking about you.

When I go to bed I'm thinking of you, when I wake up I imagine waking up next to you. Hell, even my dreams are full of you! So, yes, I do have a mood Steve. Because I know you could never be with a guy like me."

"Says who?"

Eddie freezes. That's...no, he must be suffering from some form of hearing loss cause there's no way-

"Says who?" Steve implores, hand on Eddie's jaw, lifting his face so Eddie's staring into Steve's. "Uh..." Eddie blinks a few times. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he watches as Steve's eyes trace the movement.

Steve's eyes who, a minute ago had lost all fire, was alight with flames again. Steve's thumb lightly traces Eddie's lower lip, causing a shiver to go down his spine.

Eddie parts his lips, letting Steve's thumb rest against them. He hesitantly licks the tip, giving him a chance to pull away. But Steve doesn't, no, he pushes his thumb harder against Eddie's mouth, causing Eddie to open further.

Eddie wraps his mouth around Steve's finger and sucks lightly. "Fuck," Steve steps closer," You should have said something sooner. You're on my mind too Eddie."

Eddie's eyes flutter closed as his tongue circles Steve's thumb. He can feel himself start to harden against his already tight jeans. Steve pulls his thumb out of Eddie's mouth with a pop. Eddie starts to let out a whine when Steve straddles his lap.

Which- Eddie thinks he's dead. Because Steve hasn't even done anything except sit in his lap and he thinks he's in Heaven. Eddie's hands automatically grasp Steve's hips.

Steve shifts forward slightly, both men holding back moans as their bulges grind against each other. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, leaning forward.

Their noses brush before their lips touch. Eddie can't help but sigh. Steve's lips are as soft as he thought they'd be. Eddie hopes it's good for Steve, cursing himself for not putting chapstick on recently. All sense of time is lost as their lips move in tandem. It could be five seconds or five minutes of them kissing, and Eddie never wants it to end.

They break apart, panting as Steve helps Eddie take his shirt off. As soon as his arms are free, Eddie grabs Steve's ass, a nice handful. He can't wait to worship it later. Steve sheds his own shirt, leaning back to kiss Eddie.

Steve's chest hair rubs against Eddie's sparse own. Steve rubs his hands up and down Eddie's front, pausing a moment to roll one of Eddie's nipples. Eddie whimpers as pleasure licks down his spine.

Steve rolls his hips into Eddie's, causing him to gasp. Steve deepens the kiss, licking into his mouth without hesitation. With each movement of Steve's hips, his clothed cock hits Eddie's just right. Eddie can't hold back the moan that escapes him.

Steve pulls back, a wicked grin on his face. Eddie knows he must look a sight. He can feel his face is flushed, lips slightly swollen from kissing. His cock feels harder then a diamond. A wet spot formed on the inside of his boxers where precum has leaked.

Eddie recalls his dream. How Steve was splayed out in front of him. But as Steve goes to unbutton Eddie's pants, Eddie can't help but imagine he may have gotten it wrong. Maybe Eddie is the one who's gonna be laid out in front of Steve.

[octylish]

medkit design

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Never considered the concept that those 2 winter lanterns are specifically near the Rakuyo...could mean nothing since I can't come up with anything for the placement for the others.

It does beg to the question about point of origin for them though.

[waugh-bao]

*

[ziracona]

Do gotta hand it to FO4; there’s something very poetic about The Railroad, a group taking its name from a forbearer that also at great risk smuggled slaves to freedom, made up of this small, struggling, regularly brutally purged, yet defiantly resilient group of civilians and liberated slaves, during the course of the game, operating and living out of a little church of historical significance, a symbol of freedom in its own right, living out of the crypts beneath it, among the bodies and the graves.

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20

@el-shab-hussein

@90-ghost @soon-palestine

@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸

@nabulsi

@sayruq

@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates

@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota @northgazaupdates

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[yzzart]

౨ৎ⊹. BOYFRIEND!KENJI HEADCANONS!

── content warnings: F!reader, mention of Emiko, Emi and Mina, Ultraman form, Kenji being a little needy (once again), fluff, a little something to warm our hearts and minds so dreamy.

── word count: 683!

⭑.ᐟ Underneath, and sometimes over, tight-fitting t-shirts and extremely expensive fabrics, wear a necklace; however, there is something special there. — His promise ring hangs on the gold chain; like a talisman, something that surrounds he with luck and passion. — Staying attached and close to you, even with a small object.

⤷ If he needs to think or try to decide something dramatically important and you're not around, Sato will take his fingers to the necklace and hold the ring; looking for guidance. — Oh, and waking up, before him, and contemplating that shiny and significant piece, which rests on his broad chest, is angelic.

⭑.ᐟ It's not uncommon to feel, in the middle of the night, Kenji's face trying, persistently, on your neck; readily, wanting to harness the huge and strong body between your. — He doesn't care about the grotesque difference in size, just at that moment, and he doesn't give up.

“Kenji, be careful…!” — Your voice, fully, drunk with sleep and maintaining stillness, murmured between the boy's black and shiny locks; who only responded with a snore, more like a purr and clinging even tighter to you.

⭑.ᐟ Sato can't keep his hands off you, no matter what's going on, what you're doing or what simple task you're performing; hands on your waist, kisses on every exposed and revealed part of your body, thin and wide fingers catching on some part of your clothes. — Don't be upset with him, this poor man is in love with you.

⤷ One day, Mina compared him to a sloth and obviously got a frown of disapproval and the adorable Emi observes how her “father” remains so attached to her “mother”. — Even laughing and grunting when he saw a completely sleepy and desperate Ken crawling towards you.

⭑.ᐟ Please, we have, we need to talk about all the times Kenji and Emi train together, most of the time, being just leisure moments, you sit in the stands, virtually, scheduled and cheer for them; accompanied by Mina. — The feeling of nostalgia, remembering an incredible part of his life, is exposed in Ken's chest; remembering his mother.

⭑.ᐟ I can easily imagine Ken pressing his nose against your cheek or neck wanting your attention; also, when he wants to show you the way Emi is sleeping, enjoying the baby's sweetness. — And, together, pressing his forehead against yours during countless moments of the day and night, when you get home after confronting some creature and every time he want to say "i love you" to you.

⭑.ᐟ This man knows you like the back of his hand; no one can disagree or dispute this fact. — Kenji pays attention to your gestures, noticing your body language and, for a matter of seconds, he knows that something is bothering you; and, there he is, dedicating himself, with all his attention, to doing his girl well.

⭑.ᐟ Funny situations, for Ken, between you and his Ultraman form are included in your lives. — Once, while chasing Aboras, he ended up finding you on the street, wanting to go home, and clearly he was distracted by wanting to cause a provocation. — Mina gave the boy a long, and rightly so, scolding.

“Go back to the house, young lady.” — The robotic voice filled a part of the city's environment, wanting to convey an authoritarian image. — “You know…” — He pointed one of his gigantic fingers in your direction, then towards the place he was. — “The streets have been very dangerous lately.” — Oh, you stopped yourself from answering him like you really wanted to.

“Thank you, so much, for the advice, Ultraman.”

⭑.ᐟ There are nights — many, many nights — that Ken spends watching, contemplating you sleeping, peacefully; your face remained full, without signs of tiredness, exquisite and messy locks spread out, this was adored by the player's eyes. — Between seconds of fascination, Kenji longed, dreamed, deeply and painfully, of his mother meeting you; this way, she would have the chance to know the light that raised her dear son.

⤷ Kenji prospers, sometimes praying, that one day his mother will return, safe and sound, and be able to achieve what he wants so much in his life.

[goxjo]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝 ﾟ･｡･ﾟft. gojo, choso, sukuna, toji

♡ warnings. no reader pronouns, fem anatomy! reader, technically hate fucking, reader is initially very pissed, he is too but he wants to make up, no curse au (choso + sukuna), everything is consensual. gojo cw: some reckless driving, semi-public sex, doggy, getting caught, exhibitionism. choso cw: reader is in a bunny lingerie costume, slight! pet play, suddenly popping a boner, v! fingering. sukuna cw: petty arguments, jealousy, v! fingering. toji cw: jealousy, implied size difference, kabedon!!!, cunnilingus, wall sex. 18+ only, MDNI

♡ a/n. idk if you can already tell by now - I usually make these whenever I have new banners / formats to try out. I really love that heart bubble thingy on the title lol + idk, arguments like these feel a little endearing sometimes. this was very fun to write. enjoy!

♡ links. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

[ ❤︎ ] GOJO SATORU

The car ride home tonight is silent for the most part. It’s your car, your hands on the steering wheel, and therefore your rules. Maybe you haven’t been looking at your speedometer but in case you haven’t noticed, your anger adds more pressure to your foot on the pedal, and you’re a few kilometers past the highway speed limit.

All this because of some petty argument and you barely even remember what it’s about. All you know is, it’s one that made you miss an exit, and it’s another 20 minutes before the next one.

“Baby, slow down.” He sighs with a tinge of worry and slight irritation in his voice. He’s not really keen on the idea of having to watch you flirt with an officer to get out of a speeding ticket. He’ll throw puppy dog eyes to the officer himself if he has to, but he’s putting a pin on that thought for now. There must be something that could remedy the situation (you) for now.

“Don’t talk to me,” you deadpan, lips pursing in your annoyance, eyes dead fixed on the road.

“Fine. Then, I won’t,” he hums, an idea suddenly popping up in his head. “I won’t talk to you. I’ll just…” He fiddles with the hems of your skirt, knuckles lightly stroking your plump and exposed skin.

“What the hell are you doing?” You shift in your seat, quickly taking a glance at your boyfriend.

“Not talking.” It starts with just his fingers, now it’s a full hand, and it’s squeezing and massaging your thigh, reaching higher and higher up till it’s a hair away from your clothed sex.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Satoru.” You gulp, and he doesn’t fail to notice your breath has shifted, taking deeper inhales and longer exhales the closer he gets to your panties.

And he knows it’s a dangerous game. But hey, at least you’re not in danger of getting a ticket anymore. He’s glad you’re distracted. One finger hooking on the waistband of your panties is enough to make your breath hitch. Watching you chew on your bottom lip puts a strain in his pants knowing you’re trying your hardest not to be the first to break. You’re so cute when you’re angry, focus never breaking when you reach the woodsy outskirts of your exit, and he wonders if you took the wrong turn.

“Why are we here—”

“You fucking idiot.” You’re fuming as you unbuckle your belt, making your way to the backseat.

“I fucking love you.”

….

He’s never seen you cum so fast before, never seen you more vocal, fingers raking into the leather of your back seat, not a care in the world how expensive it’s going to be to have it replaced. He should piss you off more if it means he’ll have you on all fours again in your car in the middle of the woods, begging and screaming for him to fuck you deeper and deeper a nearby town could mistake your cries for a mating call.

He finds a neat little discovery too when a light shines on your window, practically blinding you, and your insides coil around his cock he’s almost sure he was locked in knots. You’re so fucking hot when you’re embarrassed, unable to help the moans that escape your lips even when a cop knocks on your window.

[ ❤︎ ] KAMO CHOSO

“I already told you I’m sorry!”

You won’t budge, half-sulking-half pissed with your back turned to him on the bed, sitting on your folded legs. You refuse to talk to him too so he settles with hugging you from behind, bunny tail pressing against his crotch. You feel his fingers fidgeting against your stomach, clearly remorseful for what he did. Your boyfriend is the last person on earth who could forget about special dates, let alone an anniversary — or so you thought.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” And you want to forgive him. But you had already spent the last few weeks finding the best anniversary costume present, only to be met with questioning heart eyes at the bunny ears and frilly lingerie, wondering what’s the occasion.

“It’s fine, forget it. Just leave me alone.” You try to wriggle out of his hold, only grinding against him kn the process.

“Won’t let go till I know you’ll allow me to make up for it.”

“Stop, it’s done okay — wait, are you…” At first, you thought it was your puffy tail pressing on your ass but you realize that’s definitely not the case when the thing behind you tripled in size.

“Yeah.” He buries his face deeper in your hair, taking in the sweet smell of you despite your little tantrum. His thumb tries to graze your underboob, fiddling with the frilly wires, popping in and out of the garment, obviously trying to restrain himself. “Sorry, you’re just… so soft.”

“Bunny, I know you’re mad and you can tell me all about it.” His hand reaches for your clothed pussy, fingernails scratching your slit behind the fabric. He finally puts the garment aside, spreading your wet, puffy folds with his pointer and ring fingers before sliding his middle into your slippery hole. “Go on, I’m listening.”

[ ❤︎ ] RYOUMEN SUKUNA

“Don’t ignore me, you.”

“He’s my childhood friend! Just a friend, okay?! Why can’t you understand that?”

“He could be the dog of your sister-in-law’s neighbor, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want you fucking talking to that guy anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!”

“So? I don’t like how he looks at you — hey, don’t leave! Don’t get mad — c’mon!” He catches up with you when your pace quickens as you bolt through the door. Tattooed arms coming from behind you lock tightly around your waist, his face burrowing into your neck.

“Let me go!”

“Fuck no.” He’s still as a rock the first few seconds as you try to wriggle out of his hold. When you realize it’s futile, he begins to pepper kisses on your exposed shoulder, trailing kisses along your neck up to your temple, as if he’a getting off that easy.

“Ryo, stop!”

“Uh-uh.” He runs his nose across your ear before leaving breathy kisses on your lobe. He’s a fucking menace for knowing exactly what makes you weak in the knees and using that against you.

“If you think that’s going to work, I-I — ohh, fuck.” Your head cranes backwards, leaning on his hard chest when his hand slides down your pants. Heat rises to your cheeks in embarrassment when you realize he found you wet despite all this. Or maybe it’s because of this?

“I don’t know? Seems to be working.” Because it fucking is. And you hate that it is. But his hand — black fingernails grazing your clit sloppy, wetting it with your juices — it feels so hot against your pussy at this stupid moment. His free hand reaches for your tit underneath your shirt around the same time as when he started pumping digits into your hole.

You’re not getting out of this alive.

“You still gonna talk to him?”

“Who?”

[ ❤︎ ] FUSHIGURO TOJI

“I fuckin’ swear, I don’t know how that girl got my number.”

“Don’t care. Go away, Toji.” Standing and towering in front of you, he tries to block you in every which direction. He doesn’t budge. Sneaking past him isn’t an option either as those freakishly long arms could easily prevent you from going anywhere.

You didn’t mean to read his messages. But when an unknown number pops out of your boyfriend’s notifications with kissy emojis followed by a steamy shot of her backside, you can’t help but be… curious.

You’re not sure what to think. On the one hand, you know Toji would never cheat on you or lie to you about these things. On the other hand, you also just found out this isn’t the first time this girl has sent him anything — nor the first time anyone’s sent him anything in the whole duration of your relationship.

“Believe me. I ignore every single one of these text messages, I don’t know how they keep finding me!”

“Yeah, well you could’ve told me.” Toji sighs realizing only now that he should’ve. He didn’t think it mattered or that you would be this bothered when you found out. Clearly, he was wrong.

You take his pause as your cue to walk past him, but a big hand slams to the wall next to you, preventing you from walking any further. His hand slides higher as he leans closer to the wall, forcing you to back up and hide in his shadow.

His lips are a breath away, eyes staring at yours through his lashes. His free hand cups your chin, gently forcing you to listen to him carefully. “I never told you because I didn’t care about any of them.”

His hand reaches for the skirt of your dress, balling the fabric into his fist as he raises the fabric till your thighs are exposed. “Why would I care about any of them when I have you,” he slides his hand into your panties, stroking stripes along your wet slit, “and this pussy.”

You all but melt into his touch, pussy squirming underneath his hold. Toji slowly kneels to the floor, taking your panties with him before throwing them aside. He pushes your knees aside, staring right at you as his hot breath fans your exposed cunt. “This pussy. Always so fucking ready for me.”

His wet muscle parts your folds, licking heavenly stripes on your throbbing clit. You lean on the wall for dear life, one hand above your head, the other on your partner’s head, shoving him closer to your pussy as you ride his mouth.

“I’m changing my number, I promise.”

♡ reblogs & comments are appreciated ♡

[bigassmoth]

yandere! elf x reader

Character belonging to @meo-eiru

(I hope I did him justice)

You are quite fed up with your stupid captor coddling you like a "mother" and then coaxing you to swallow his cum. While you have tried to correct his thinking, talking just didn't cut it. You had to take action now.

"Sit down." You speak to Silas as soon as he comes into the home, tone authoritative. He gives you a large smile, ears flushing- since when have you ever greeted him so cutely!? He happily chirps his assent and sets down a basket of various berries and herbs to sit with you on his couch.

"How are you? Are you hungry? Are you thirsty-"

"Do you remember what I have told you about mothers?" You interrupt him and take a sip from your mug, which contains a latte thankfully absent of his cum.

Silas claps and then finally picking up on your tone, decides to lower his hands and voice to sound serious. "Yes! You said mothers care for their children so they grow into adults and then let them go to support them from afar. And you said that mothers don't....uhm..." It was a genuine mental block, Silas didn't like or understand what you told him about his un-motherly behavior so he forgot it entirely.

As you silently scrutinize him, Silas begins to tear up. "I-I'm sorry I forgot-- I was listening I promise but I just can't- it's so hard." He blubbers and then wails, tears spilling over his cheeks. Months ago you would have thought it was over-dramatic acting trying to gain your sympathy. Ah, such a sweet thought. But no, this elf couldn't help but cry over the idea of disappointing you- or worse, not giving you his full undivided attention.

"That's ok, Silas." His waterworks stop when you softly use his name, a rare treat. "I know, it's complicated for you. So we are going to try something different today, I am going to show you everything that a mother cannot do." You set down your mug.

"Ok! Please show me!" He readily agrees, fired up despite his cheeks still being wet.

"Show you, what mothers never do." You emphasize and crawl into his lap, gently pushing him down on his couch.

He tilts his head in confusion, "Mothers don't do this?"

"They do not." You assert and press your lips to his. You start off the kiss with searing heat, all tongue and teeth. You slurp his own tongue into your mouth and nibble it- he squeaks and jerks but your hands hold his face still. Through the thin gossamer fabric of his clothes you feel his cock begin to harden. Quick to seize the opportunity, you grind down harshly on him, using the rough material of your own pants and the rolling of your hips to push his dick down as it struggles to stand.

Silas is beside himself, his hands have naturally come to rest on your hips and cannot decide if they should push or pull you. His hips have a mind of their own, bouncing up against you as you cruelly keep his now fully-hard member between his thighs. He is seeking friction and relief now, different from the controlled release of his 'feedings'. The noises that come from his mouth are high in pitch and frequent, he slips out 'please's in between your bites. Only after you are satisfied he will remain under you do you pull your mouth away from his.

"Who can do this to someone else, Silas?" You demand coolly. He squirms under you and your hips still. Coming down from the feelings of surprise, Silas thinks hard about his answer.

"M....Mothers?" His hesitant answer is progress.

You briefly lift your hips just so his cock can raise against the back of your ass and then you sit back down- hard. Silas throws his head back and yelps, his thighs trembling.

"No." Comes your rigid response. Silas is crying and squirming, likely without realizing he is doing so. He doesn't give you a response, only moans and sniffles. You grip his face until he looks at you.

"Silas, this is what a lover would do." You lift and roll your hips so his dick can finally stand up, and you place yourself behind it so it sits between your crotch and his stomach. You grind on him without build-up, setting a rough and hard pace. To keep your balance you place your hands on his chest and pinch his nipples hard enough you know it hurts.

He is practically possessed under you, letting out the deepest sounds you had heard from him as they become unlocked from his chest. He fully grinds his hips against yours, holds your ass tightly. Typically he touches himself lightly, as if unsure why he is doing it. The wetness he feels from between your legs, restricted by your clothing. The warmth, angry painful warmth, from his cockhead against his own stomach and the trail of thick cum that has begun sliding down his stomach from all of his bucking. Dimly, Slias is aware of how small you are compared to him, not small like a child anymore. Small in a different way, still exciting but new. Would his throbbing piece fit inside of you? Would you even let him? Small as you are, clearly you are an experienced and controlled adult. For the first time since he found you, you finally hold power over him. Now he wants to relinquish all of his power, trust it in the hands of someone who can make him feel so good, so used, so...in the back of his mind Silas remembers a term he read in human erotica, "sexy".

"Lovers milk cocks, lovers pin each other down, lovers touch these parts. Only lovers, no one else is allowed." He wonders how he could have ever thought your voice was innocent. Just hearing you made his ears tickle and his balls tighten. Would you say his name in that husky tone? Would you say his name the way he is chanting yours, mouth thick with drool and tongue too abused to enunciate?

He is choking under you, at this point you can't tell if he is processing your words or not. Finally without warning he snaps, his orgasm zaps through him with a ruthlessness that he hasn't experienced before. His cum coats your pants and his stomach, his cock twitches under you. He moans softly, erotically, as he comes down from his high. On your ass his fingers are twitching, weak from the strongest orgasm of his life but desperate to continue holding you. You pull away anyway, deciding that your work is done. You could now change into clean clothes and hopefully be done with this strange misguided pseudo-incest coming from the biggest bimbo of his species. No more waking up to hear "A good mother always feeds her children!" and receiving a cumshot to the face. You briefly clean the cum off of your own skin and slip into decidedly more comfortable clothes, finding Silas where you left him.

You are tempted to leave him on the couch, shuddering in his afterglow. But your sympathy wins out, you quickly clean him off with a rag (and ignore the way he starts loudly moaning as you touch him), throw a blanket onto him, and place a cup of water by his head.

"Rest for a bit. Once you can walk, clean yourself up. I'm going to make dinner." You turn to go to the kitchen but Silas catches your wrist.

Patiently, you look at him and wait for him to speak. But nothing comes out, the elf stares at his hand holding onto you, mesmerized by your fragility. Something so dainty he could easily break it- this used to terrify him. But now he can only think of ways to restrain you, or to be touched by you.

"Ok, let go. We need food." You sigh and pull your hand back but his grip tightens.

"I am not your mother."

Your face lights up, thank god! He caught on way faster than you thought he would! You should have done this ages ago! Of course some backwards pervert elf would respond to backwards pervert reasoning.

"Yes! Perfect!" In your excitement you are patting his massive shoulder and grinning, "You got it. I am an adult, not a child. You are not my mother, and I don't need a mother. So no more feedings-"

With a speed you didn't know he had, Silas pulled you against his chest. You groan with frustration.

"Fuck! Not this again! I'm not going to suck your tits, your mammary glands don't produce milk if not pregnant-"

"Lovers..." He rasps against your ear. You still as one of his hands, suddenly so intimidatingly large, slides down your back and pushes itself into your pants. His fingers glide between your asscheeks and curiously rub at your hole. You are flinching from the contact, his arms iron cages. He raises his legs and puts them between your own, then spreads them so your hole is forcibly exposed for his fingering.

"No- this isn't what I meant. We aren't lovers, lovers are- it's different. It requires a mutual component of emotional intimacy and chemical responses from environmental circumstances-" He presses a kiss to your ear and then wiggles his tongue inside. You writhe against him until he withdraws.

"Hmm~ I don't get it." He cheerily says and his fingers begin thrusting into you. "But I am not a mother, I understand now. I'm sorry for making so many mistakes." Your clean pants are becoming drenched in your own slick. "We will only do lover things from now on. Milking, Pinning, Touching. Both of us." He whispers sappily into your ear, positively lovestruck. You are still as cute as ever, protesting against the things that make your body feel good. He understands now that you are used to giving, which is why you gave him so much pleasure. He will have to be more assertive a lover for you, to make sure that your body is milked, pinned, and touched.

[kxsalt]

cw non-consent

Two is company, three is a crowd. The old saying is tossed around as a joke. She sits on the bed in the hotel room while the three men take off their clothes. The girl is almost entirely confident. Her experience having sex with two men at the same time will surely carry her through. A flicker of nervousness is visible on her face as they lead her off the bed and onto her knees.

Sucking cock, she strokes the other two. With only moments to catch her breath, her mouth is passed around the trio. The coordination required to give two handjobs while deepthroating is slightly beyond her ability. The men get more impatient and unsatisfied by her awkward rhythm.

“Come on, you can do better than that. You said you were good at this.” The man lambasts her. She gurgles in response. “One more minute, then we can switch.” Groans another as he facefucks her. “Let’s get into the fun stuff.” Remarks the third, also unsatisfied by her hand. He grabs her hips, lifting her upright and drives his cock into her pussy.

Spitroasted on the men, the girl feels a moment of comfort. Having one man using her cunt while she sucks off the other is a familiar place for her. The third man complicates things. She tries her best to swap between the two regularly, but their impatience grows. One sits on the bed. “Let me fuck her. Come bounce on my dick, slut.”

“I’m trying my best, okay?” Her disrespectful tone slips through her unused mouth. The energy changes. The girl swallows as she reads the frustrated expressions of the three men. “Try harder.” Says the man on the bed as he grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him. She takes him in her pussy while another stands on the matress.

She tastes her pussy on his cock as she rides the other man. Another familiar place. The girl forgets to take care of the third man. A firm grip on her bum reminds her of his presence. Reaching behind, she tries to grab onto his cock. It’s too late.

Pulling her head away from the blowjob, she feels the head of his cock press against her ass. “Hey! I don’t do anal! I told you that before! Stop!” The girl protests. “You do now.” He would barely fit inside her without her pussy stretched by the other man. He groans and thrusts himself inside her third hole.

Her safeword is ignored. It’s nothing but theatre when three men want to take a lone woman. The impotent begging is muffled when a cock is shoved down her throat. Finally, the group is satisfied. Tears pour from her eyes as her arms are held behind her back. Fighting with all her strength wouldn’t be enough to stop even one of them.

Another desparate attempt to escape. The men pin her to the bed and switch between her holes. She begs for them to stop. They don’t. Instead they fuck her harder. The first man to finish unloads his cum all over her sobbing face. The second man finishes in her ass. As he pulls his cock from her, the third man takes his place. Their cum mixes in her used asshole.

The first is ready again. His comrades hold her down so he can properly enjoy her. The girl’s pleading has faded into the occasional mumbled word or outburst of crying. As they fuck her, one or two keeps a firm grip on her to prevent any physical resistance. Sometimes, two regain their stamina at the same time, and they both penetrate her at the same time.

The hours pass. Gone far beyond her limits, the girl lies limp in the middle of the hotel bed. The last man finishes in her ruined body. His cum dribbles from her as he gets dressed. She curls up in a ball and tries to wipe off the stains as the hotel room door closes.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

[bi-writes]

cw: protective!ghost, allusions to civilian!reader being (physically) assaulted at work (18+)

"l-lieutenant?"

ghost is nearly startled by the little voice that practically squeaks behind him. he's been huddled in his office for too long, driving himself mad with paperwork and sergeants too stupid for their own good. he blinks, turning around, and he blinks when he sees you there in the doorway, hands shaking as you try and collect yourself.

when he looks carefully under the fluorescent lights, he can see there are tears in your eyes. it's then that he notices how you look, really look. there's a bruise blossoming on your jaw, the skin swelling a bit where there's a cut on your lip. your shirt is askew, and you're panting and sweating, like you've been running. he's never seen you this way. fuck, he barely sees you at all, except when he goes out during drills, and he's only ever spoken to you once or twice, just to receive some papers or to excuse himself as he tries to get around you in a crowded hallway. you are always quiet, always shy, smiling at him if you are near and trying to keep out of the way.

he doesn't know why it enrages him to see you in this state, but it does.

"the fuck happened t'ya?" he rasps, and he realizes it comes out harsher than he means. he isn't used to being nice.

the slamming of a door against a wall keeps you from answering. just like that, you're moving, about to scramble away, run, when ghost reaches out and grabs your wrist. he tugs you towards him, just quick enough that whoever is coming for you skids into the doorway.

it's a sergeant he recognizes. cocky, full of shit, who never hits his target. he's big, but not as big as ghost. he pauses when he realizes where you are and who you're with, skidding backwards as he tries to contain his anger.

"wot the fuck is goin' on?" ghost snaps, and you sputter, not able to make out your words properly.

"'m sorry, lieutenant," the sergeant huffs. "i'll take care of this."

when he lunges for you, ghost shoves you behind him, tilting his head to the side as he stares down at the little shit.

"did i fuckin' tell ya t'move?" ghost growls. "this how ya answer ta y'r superior, you fuckin' knob?"

"no," he spits back, but his eyes flash when ghost puts a gloved hand against his chest and pushes him back far enough to put appropriate distance between them.

"did y'hit this civilian?" ghost asks, a humorless laugh leaving him. when the sergeant doesn't respond, ghost turns finally, looking at you, and he clicks his tongue to get your eyes on him. "did he put his hands on ya?"

you tremble a little, moving the back of your hand over your eyes before nodding. you don't really register what happens next. you see blood on the tips of your kitten heels one moment, and you cover your eyes the next.

in the bathroom later that evening, ghost is careful as he dabs at your lip gently with a cool cloth. he has taken the gloves off (they were soaked with blood), and you try not to shiver as he holds your face with one big hand and cleans you up with the other. you can see the shadow of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve.

"why'd y'come t'me?" he asks after a few minutes. you blink up at him, swallowing hard, and he stands back a little to get a better look at you.

"i've read your file," you whisper, looking down, a bit ashamed. "i just thought...you'd understand."

or maybe you wondered what he would do if he found out.

he hums a little, and you miss the feeling of his touch as soon as he lets go of you, washing his hands at the sink. you fixate on his stature, his size. the thick of his thighs, how the holsters there bulge and stretch to try and hold onto him.

just as he starts to leave, you stand from your seat, making your way to him. he hears you, stopping, and you hold onto his bicep gently as you get on your toes to kiss his cheek. he flinches a little, but he relaxes finally, leaning in for you to kiss him there again. when your eyes meet again, you think you see something there.

he kicks the door closed with his boot, trapping you in the room with him. you smile when the lock clicks.