#give me a character x reader

[cheruverse]

i'm so sad at the fact that argenti only became relevant when argenthill became popular, back when he got leaked and released there were lack of fanarts and praise for him despite the fact that a flower was named after him plus he's the least owned character in honkai star rail too

we need some more argenti appreciation aside from the ships bc atp he js exists for "shipping purposes"

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[chic-and-posh]

Where are you??

🖤 > The jjk cast end up working overtime and you miss them

🖤 > Satoru, Toji, Nanami, Suguru, Sukuna

🖤 > F!Reader

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[sky-is-the-limit]

"How can you like Abby after-"

After???? After what??? How can I like her?!?Like ain't even the right word.

I'd commit the most heinous crimes that they'd have to write a new chapter in the bible for my gay ass specifically just to have my pussy on her face and vice versa before cooking her a warm soup and running her a bath, don't get me fucking started lil guy. If there's one video game character I don't play around for and would defend with every fibre of my body, it's her.

That's my woman right there.

[rodolfoparras]

SO I JUST GOT OUT OF THE FNAF MOVIE

mike is Most definitely a man who whimpers

he buries his head into the pillow, soft sobbing because he hasn't felt this good in so long while you softly stroke his cock and/or finger him while whispering praises into his ear

-🌷

Ok but hear me out…

Brat!mike who loves to rile you up with his mouth and will only ever shut up once you shove your cock down his throat, forcing him to keep you inside his mouth for as long as possible, til his jaw aches, throat burns and there’s a puddle of drool on the floor. Another way to shut him up is to grip his throat while he rides your cock, you’ll watch the stubbornness bled away from his eyes and get replaced with desperation as he furiously taps at your thigh.

Brat!mike who likes it rough, whether it be having little to no prep, blowjobs that will have tears spilling down his cheeks and face turning visibly red or til it feels like he’s being speared onto your dick, will even let you put mascara and lipstick on him just so that he can visibly see how you’ve ruined him

Brat!Mike who’ll prevent any noises from escaping his lips as you’re fucking him. Even with ropes of cum painted all over his stomach and hole all puffy and red he still won’t tell you how good you’re making him feel. You can even have him tied up while holding a vibrator against his dick and he’ll still manage to stay silent as a mouse, which only manages to drive you crazy

Brat! Mike who’ll purposely stop while in the middle of giving you a blow job or while riding you just to tease, only for you to yank at his hair or hips and shove him back down onto your dick

Brat!mike who loves to rile you up just so that you can have heated make up sex, will even go as far as to moan the name of someone else while you got your fingers or cock buried inside him, wont stop with his little act til you’ve fucked him so dumb he can no longer speak or think

Brat!mike who’s alright with being denied orgasms but loses his mind at being denied a kiss, you’ll have him whining and whimpering within seconds to put your lips on his.

[femd-archive]

Mother feed us more ken sato fic

hello ~ i uploaded a kenji fic a few hours ago! → ♡♡♡

but since we're in the topic of mother, may i say...kenji with a mommy kink?

like, imagine you just had made him cum from a handjob. his mind is all fuzzy, head throwed on the pillows and his thighs are shaking as some ropes of cum are still sprouting from his tip

you smile at the sight of him. the daily arrogant kenji is longer gone as he has marks of tears on his cheeks and lets out small whines as your hands keep roaming along his sensitive body.

finally letting his sensitive dick alone, you scoot closer to him, leaving a kiss on his forehead and then his lips. "did that felt good, love?" you ask, caressing his chest comfortingly.

he lets out a shaky breath, sending a shaky smile at your way. "yeah...thank you mommy" it slipped so naturally out of his lips.

you got shocked for a second, before smiling at the cute new nickname. kenji notices your smirk, and he soon realize.

"n-no, no no! i meant—"

"it's okay baby, mommy will take care of you" you tease him, pecking his lips before cuddling him in your arms.

kenji rolls his eyes playfully, with a small smile on his lips, and resigns himself, snuggling closer to you. it may have been an accident, but he had to admit that he felt good calling you that, and your reaction had calmed his anxiety when he fell into panic.

to be honest, he was excited to explore this new side of him with you! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

(when he falls into a deep subspace, the only thing that comes out of his lips is mommy >ᴗ<)

[taglist] @vinegarjello

[bubonicc-writing]

The Rebound

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3194

Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.

CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)

Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul. 

It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.

You took it.

The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.

Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across. 

Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.

 Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.

A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.

A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.

As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.

“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.

He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway. 

He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.

“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.” 

Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.

As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again. 

Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either. 

In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.

Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline. 

Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you. 

Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head. 

Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.

It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit. 

What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.

 He had loved, and he had lost. 

The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip. 

The two of you stayed linked that night.

The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.

You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.

The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.

The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.

“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”

Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself. 

“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.

“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.

“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there. 

Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.

“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”

Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.

“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.

Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster. 

The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.

“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.

“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”

There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.

Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts. 

“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”

“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits. 

Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.

Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.

“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”

Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime. 

When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.

Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh. 

Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.

It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!” 

He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.

Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.

Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.

Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll. 

With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.

Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.

Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.

Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.

When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.

For once, the wasteland was at peace.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again- Part Three

Azriel x Rowaelin daughter reader

Summary: The inner court has many questions about Y/n and her world. Missing home even more, all she wants is to fly and clear her head, luckily, her babysitter indulges her

Series Masterlist

-Part Three-

Azriel knew this was going to be a long day from the moment he woke up. Surrounded by his shadows who would not shut up for three gods damned seconds. She’s awake, awake, awake, upset, won’t eat, upset. The little busybodies had snuck off while he slept, and apparently they were very concerned about the state of the female next door for whatever reason.

He found himself dressed and in the hallway waiting for any sign of her, when he didn’t receive one in the ten minutes he’d stood there he’d finally crossed the hall and knocked three times on the door.

She was still in there, he knew that from the way his shadows kept trying to slip through the cracks towards her. And he could feel the shield of air she’d placed around the room, hiding the sounds of her approaching footsteps.

The door swung open and Azriel couldn’t explain why his breath caught in his chest. The house had gifted her new clothes, the traditional night court style that Amren preferred to wear, in the deepest darkest night court black. The silk cropped shirt hugged her curves, and the flowing high waisted pants left a small sliver of skin on display. Beautiful, pretty, black suits her. His shadows whispered again and again and again, he was about ready to lock them away for a moment of peace.

“Here to take me to the dungeons yet?” She asks, lifting her arms towards him as if expecting cuffs, amusement glittering in her eyes as she watches his eyes lift from her waist, “what’s on the table today? Just some light interrogation? Maybe a bit of torture?”

“Breakfast actually,” he replies dryly, “the others will be here shortly.”

“Well that’s no fun,” she pouts, dropping her arms to her sides, “lead the way then, shadowsinger.”

The title rolls off her tongue, that accent swirling and dripping with charm. A small smirk on her lips as she notices his hesitation, turning his back on her still felt like a bad idea, even though he didn’t glimpse a single dagger on her, he’s sure she wouldn’t need it.

She seems fine, less tense than the night before, a mask of cool amusement and charm, yet his shadows seem concerned, upset, they’d whispered all morning. As they walk he keeps one eye on her, taking in the way she examines every surface, every turn, every nook and cranny. She was mapping out the halls in her head, memorizing the ways out, smart. If she wanted to she could shift into that magnificent hawk form and fly through the halls and off the balcony before he could even try to catch her.

They turn into the dining room, Rhys and Feyre already sat at the table. The table set for several people, Azriel assumed the rest of the court would be here soon, Cassian flying them up from the River House. Elain would stay back with little Nyx, her mate there to protect them both.

“Good morning,” Feyre says, voice reserved yet kind, “I’m Feyre.”

Y/n grants her a small smile, bowing her head slightly in greeting. She doesn’t say anything, opting to examine the room around them like she’d done in the halls, nervous. She didn’t let it show on her face, but Azriel could tell, could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Please, sit,” Rhys says, gesturing to the seats across from them, “the rest will be here shortly.”

“Should I be worried about that?” Y/n asks, her tone is light, that cool amusement hiding the faint look of panic that flashes through her eyes.

Azriel’s shadows writhe at his sides when he sees that look, something about it settles wrongly. She had nothing to fear from them, but how would she know that? Strangers who had found her vulnerable, who had tried to look into her mind, who she knew next to nothing about.

Feyre laughs lightly, “no, no, of being talked to death perhaps, but I swear, no harm will come to you.”

That seems just good enough to Y/n to coax her to sit across from Feyre, her eyes glance warily at the foods laid out between them and instead of filling her plate like the High Lord and Lady across from her she simply leans back in her seat and watches. Azriel takes the seat beside her, pointedly filling his plate with mounds of eggs and bacon and bread with jams.

She won’t eat, eat, eat, eat, she needs to eat. Shadows angrily whisper in Azriel’s ears but he forces them away as he hears the sounds of his family grow closer down the hall, Cassian’s booming laugh echoing into the room. He can see the moment Y/n tenses, her body readying for a fight that would not come.

“A rambunctious lot you’ve got here,” she says coolly, that mask of indifference slid into place.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Rhys sighs.

Cassian is the first to come through the door, followed by Nesta who rolls her eyes at her mates back.

“Is this the female who handed Azriel’s ass to him?”

The tension in Y/n’s shoulders slip every so slightly and Azriel feels himself relax too. He was prepared to leap inbetween his family and her, to protect which one he wasn’t sure.

“You say that like it’s such an impossibility,” Mor says as she and Amren step through the doorway, “I’ve seen plenty of females hand you your ass, Cassian.”

“But it’s Az,” Cass laughs, “Mister dark and broody spymaster caught off guard by the second female falling on his lap.”

“She did not fall into my lap,” Azriel sighs, “she was in the-“

“Whatever,” Cassian interrupts, waving his hand, “close enough.”

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics, recognizing them for what they were, a way to break any tension, to make this seem like a simple breakfast instead of the interrogation it was sure to become. One glance at Y/n told him she wasn’t buying it for one second.

Her eyes travel over them all, stopping briefly on Nesta as their eyes lock. Both females had that cold stare that could freeze oceans. Though she’d given back a majority of the cauldrons power, it still lurked behind Nesta’s steely eyes, that silver fire rolling in warning. Y/n looked just as lethal, those cold eyes almost glowing with the power lurking below her skin, wether it was ice or fire, Azriel wasn’t sure he wanted to find out which she’d use first.

Nesta seemed satisfied with whatever she saw in Y/n’s eyes, grabbing her mates hand to drag him to their seats beside Feyre. Mor slipped into the seat beside Azriel, Amren taking the seat beside her.

“Well,” Rhys says with that charming grin, “now that everyone is here I’d like to introduce our lovely guest, Crown Princess of Terrasen, Y/n Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.”

“Now that’s a mouth full.” Mor whistles as she piles her plate full of sweet pastries and fruits, “lovely to meet you, Princess.”

“Y/n will do.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the fangs,” Cassian says when her sharp canines peak through her lips.

Azriel keeps one eye on the female next to him as he pretended to be interested in the food on his plate. Her arms were crossed over her stomach, her mask not slipping despite the eyes weighing her down.

“What is this place?”

Rhys raises a brow at her, “would you like to eat first before we get to the nitty gritty?”

Y/n nods towards the food, “I’d like to know exactly who and what I’m dealing with before I accept food from fae I don’t know. Didn’t anyone ever teach you stranger danger?”

Eat, eat, tell her to eat. Azriel tries to quiet the shadows, getting annoyed with how insistent they were. As if she heard them, Y/n glances at him, frowning at the little wisps that stray to close to her.

Rhys looks ready to give her a sarcastic response but Feyre rolls her eyes and butts in, “you are in Velaris, the heart and soul of our territory, the Night Court.”

“You’re the leaders of this place,” Y/n states more than asks.

“High Lord and Lady, few of many on this continent,” Feyre nods, “how’d you know.”

“I’ve dealt with plenty of royals,” Y/n shrugs, “Queens and Kings, Lords and Ladies, Emperors and Empresses.”

That peaks everyone’s interest, Azriel can feel the curiosity in the air. When Quinlann had arrived, she’d been at war with the Asteri, the ruling power of her world, despite having kings and queens, they all answered to the immortal, intergalactic parasites, as Quinlann had put it. She and her mate had succeeded in ridding their planet of the monsters, but who knew where else these creatures lived.

“What is your home like?” Mor asks, the question seemingly harmless, but depending on the answer could bring a whole world of consequences.

Y/n examines her, not missing the hidden question beneath is your world a threat to our own, “much like your own it would seem. We’ve been at peace for the last 25 years. Until a gate opened up and ripped me away from my family.”

There’s the briefest change in her then, that mask slipping just enough that Azriel recognizes it, grief. She’s upset, homesick, won’t eat. It made sense now, she’d said she’d been with her father when the gate had taken her, when she’d been dumped onto a foreign land surrounded by strangers she couldn’t understand. She must have been terrified.

“Before you ask, I have no idea how or why the gate opened, or why it took me,” she continues, “it shouldn’t have been possible. None have been opened since the lock was forged during the war.”

“War?” Cassian’s brow raises in question, “what lock?”

It seems to set her back into a memory, her eyes not entirely focused on the male who’d asked, “the war against the Valg. Demons from another world who liked the taste of ours. The fight against them spanned over centuries, over multiple wars, my ancestor was able to lock the King away with a stolen object not meant for her to use, but for that there was a price demanded from the gods who’d made the lock in the first place, an heir of her blood to forge a new lock, to open a gate and send them to their true home, my mother. Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, she almost died paying their price, and in the end they betrayed her anyway.”

Anger simmered in her eyes, Azriel could feel heat radiating off of her, that fire under her skin wanting to come out.

“What became of them?” Rhys asks.

She takes a moment to rein that fire in and then she meets the High Lord’s eyes, “she killed them all.”

A silence ripples through the room, her mother had killed her world’s gods. Were they like Midgard’s asteri, Prythian’s daglan, or maybe their own kind of nightmare.

“She locked the gates, fell through time and space, through hundreds of worlds, guided back by my father who would not let that mating bond slip through his fingers. When she’d come back, she had a fraction of her power left, the power that could end the valg Queen and King and save them all.”

“How did they win?” Nesta asks in the quiet that follows.

A smile, not a smirk finds Y/n’s lips and Azriel’s shadows dance towards her. He barely keeps them in check, one resting on the edge of her chair before it was reined back in. He catches the curious look sent his way by Rhys. He’d surely hear more of that later.

“My Aunt Yrene,” she says, “a healer, the valg were vulnerable to their touch, she took the evil shriveled soul of the valg King and turned him to nothing but a black stain on the floor. We put a rug over it.”

A surprised laugh slips out of Mor, “please tell me it’s hideous.”

“The tackiest thing I’ve ever seen, they let me paint on it as a child. It’s covered in bad stick figures of my uncles.”

They’d asked her questions until it was nearing lunch time. Cassian had about fallen out of his chair when she’d told them of the witches and their wyverns. From the look in Amren’s eye, Y/n knew that if she’d ever met Manon, the world would tremble in fear.

Rhys had been particularly interested in her mother’s journey through worlds, he had an uncanny feeling about it that he couldn’t quite explain. Feyre and Nesta had been shocked to learn that her mother was half human. Mor had asked her millions of questions that she could barely keep up with.

During it all, Azriel had been silent at her side. No questions on his lips but she could see the wheels turning in his head, could almost hear the whispering shadows that danced closer and closer to her every chance they got. She’d felt one drifting over her elbow for a moment before Azriel had glared right at the curious little shadow and it flew back to his side.

They’d slowly stopped their questioning and then they left one by one, Amren had left to look into this worlds knowledge on Wyrd markings and gates, Cassian and Nesta had said something about a training session, Rhys and Feyre needed to go relieve the third Acheron sister from babysitting duty and Mor had desperately wanted to see her nephew.

And just like that, it was down to Y/n and Azriel. She assumed he was still on babysitting duty, despite their apparent trust in her. She didn’t blame them for being cautious, Wyrd knows she’d not let a single one of them out of her sight if the roles were reversed.

Y/n stood stretching out her sore muscles, an involuntary groan slipping past her lips as she lifted her arms above her head. They’d been sitting there for hours and her body still aches from the events of yesterday.

“You didn’t eat anything,” his cool voice startles her, deep and slightly gravely.

She glances down at him, noting the way his eyes drag up from that small sliver of skin at her waist. The clothes we’re comfortable, yet much more revealing than anything she’d been used to. She can’t help the smirk that rests on her lips as she looks down at the handsome male, she could get used to clothes like this.

“I’m not hungry,” she shrugs, moving through the room, glancing towards the huge windows that showed the vast city far beneath them.

“You haven’t eaten since you’ve been here,” he says, eyes tracking each of her movements.

“Oh? And how would you know that,” she looks pointedly at the shadows, “I thought I told you to keep wandering eyes to yourself.”

He simply shrugs, “they do what they want.”

“Clearly.” She turns towards the door, “are you to play babysitter all day? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

She’s out the door before he’s has the chance to reply. The place was massive, she’d memorized the walk from her room to the dining hall, but the amount of halls that laid around told her she’d only seen a small portion of what the place had to offer.

“Would you care for a tour?” Azriel’s suddenly standing to her side.

“Babysitter and tour guide,” she snarks, exploring down the hall, “A double threat.”

“I’ve been told to keep any eye on you.” He looks down at her, “and that’s what I plan to do.”

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” She turns into a large living space littered with comfortable looking couches and chairs, a doorway leading to a balcony against the far wall. “I’m sure you’re a male who takes his duties very seriously.”

She moves towards that door, towards the open air beyond, Azriel following close behind. She could feel the wind beyond, begging to caress her wings, she’d shift and fly for hours and hours, maybe she could fly home.

“You could make this easy for both of us,” he says, letting a shadow block her path, “and quit trying to run away from me.”

“Now who said I was trying to run away,” she flashes an overly sweet smile over her shoulder, one that she can tell gets under his skin.

“You’re not a prisoner,” he almost growls, “but if you choose to make this harder than necessary, I have no problem tying you to a chair.”

She snorts, “Kinky, but no thank you, I’m not interested.”

He doesn’t respond, that carefully crafted expression not shifting an inch, though his shadows give him away. They writhe around him, reaching for her and pulling back over and over, like he was trying not to strangle her.

“Tell you what,” she says, “I’ll stick around you like glue if you let me go for a quick flight.”

She doesn’t hide the longing glance she gives the balcony, whenever she was stressed or upset her and her father would go flying, they would fly until she was ready to talk about what was eating at her, or until she tired herself out and he would take her home and tuck her into bed just to go fly the next morning. Y/n couldn’t think of a time she’d been more stressed than now, stuck in a foreign world with no way home, surrounded by powerful fae who she didn’t trust not to bury a dagger between her shoulders the second she turned around, depsite how kind they had been.

“Fine.”

Her eyes meet with warm hazel, surprise not hidden on her face. She would’ve thought he’d fight back harder, keeping her here, where she couldn’t fly away was safer, easier. But he’d agreed, and she gives him the first genuine smile she’d had since she’d arrived and says, “Thank you.”

He nods once, “after you.”

She’s out the door in seconds, shifting with a flash of white light, and diving over the edge of the balcony towards the city far far below.

Azriel was regretting his choice to let her fly, simply due to the fact that she was so damn fast. Despite the chill in the air, she flew over Velaris with such speed, the air biting his wings as he tried to keep up. She zigzaged over the city, following streets up and down, from the cliffs of the house all the way to the open mouth of the Sidra. They flew over the bridge into the Rainbow, the artists quarter and almost like an invisible string tugged her towards it, they ended up at one of the many amphitheaters.

Music of practicing artists flowed out, preparing for a concert later that evening, there was no single melody, a mesh of different tunes that somehow melded together into a new song of its own.

Y/n landed on a high wall of the amphitheater, that flash of light, and then she was sitting precariously on the edge, as if there wasn’t a steep drop directly behind her to the streets below. Azriel landed next to her, carefully sitting down with a comfortable distance between them. It felt wonderful to rest for a few seconds, letting the sun warm his wind chilled wings.

He watches her, the way she leans towards that music as if she couldn’t help but be drawn to it. There’s a longing look in her eyes, a sadness that cracks that carefully constructed mask to pieces. Azriel wants to comfort her, he’s overcome by the sudden need to fix whatever is wrong, but he was never good at that, so he just sits beside her, mouth firmly shut.

“One of the first things my mother did after the war was rebuild the theaters,” she says quietly after several minutes, “my earliest memory is sitting in the Queen’s box, they’d written a symphony about the final battle, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I can still hear the horn that signaled my mothers arrival.”

Azriel listened carefully, “Your mother seems to be a brave warrior.”

“She didn’t have a choice but to be,” Y/n whispers, “Most of my family didn’t.”

“You seem to be a warrior yourself,” he says, “were you given a choice.”

Her eyes don’t stray from the players below, “Yes and no, my parents insisted I train, they wanted me to be prepared for anything, I wanted to anyway, mostly because I wanted to grow up to be just like them. My father is one of the strongest fae warriors in the world, Rowan Whitethorn, soldiers talk about him around camp fires like he’s a myth. He and my uncles, his cadre, oversaw my training. My mother too, she’d once been a renowned assassin, I’d begged and fought with her to teach me everything she knew until she got sick of me and relented.”

He could see that, the way she struck fast and quietly during their first encounter, she moved with the grace of a dancer, struck with the strength of a warrior.

“Quite the family,” he says, searching for anything to lighten the mood, something Rhys or Cassian would say, “I’m sure bringing home boys was interesting.”

She laughs, and he can’t help but enjoy the sound, “you have no idea, not only do you have to impress my parents, but also the kings and queens of several nations. I made the mistake of bringing a boy home when Manon was visiting from the witch lands. She tried to introduce him to Abraxos, I don’t think I ever saw him again.”

From what they’d heard of the witch Queen, Azriel hoped the boy had just fled the kingdom, instead of becoming dinner.

She goes silent, and a shadow whispers in Azriel’s ear, she wants to go home, sad, very sad.

“Would you care to eat now?” Azriel asks, raising to his feet, “I know flying works up my appetite.”

She flashes him a saccharine smile, one that does its best to hide the pain but it can’t hide her eyes, “are you asking for a date? I thought I told you I’m not interested.”

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the slight twitch of his lips, “Trust me, Princess, you’re not my type either.”

She climbs to her feet, and Azriel finds that stretch of exposed skin at her waist as she turns to him, the scent of pine, snow, and embers drifting towards him on the wind.

“I’m everybody’s type.” Her tone lowers, dripping with charm, the kind that could make men and women crawl on their hands and knees. “Think you can keep up this time?”

Without warning she jumps off the back of the tall amphitheater. Azriel has a brief moment of panic, shadows whipping out to try and catch her, wings flaring as he goes to dive after her. Then, brilliant white light blinds him for a second, and that red tinged hawk shoots past him, letting out a cry that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

He swears, jumping off that ledge and shoots into the sky behind her.

[rekishiteki]

Ardent Affection

Summary: You just really love Jing Yuan

Words: Around 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff the whole way through; reader is not described in any way and implied to be a long life species; reader and jing yuan are very clingy and a little possessive; jing yuan decided to be cheeky so this ended up kind of suggestive at the end

Notes: I wrote this for meee!!!!! It's self indulgent!! It's what I want to do with jing yuan!!! It's been months and I'm still so down bad for him. I'm so in love with him it's making me ill!!!! Done trying to edit this so take it before I explode from the yearning

This is also an offering to his rerun banner. I need my beautiful husband so please let me win my next 50/50 and his lightcone 👉👈

You're relaxing with Jing Yuan in his gardens. He's lying on his side with a hand propping his head up. His eyes are closed and he looks content to be here sunning himself. You're sitting with your back resting against his middle. His other hand is placed on your arm and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest. It's comforting. You let out a content sigh, basking in the serenity of the moment. Your thoughts drift to Jing Yuan as they tend to do, your gaze drifting along with it. You examine him and his beautiful features, heart tightening with the love you feel for him.

"I wish I was as old as you." The words come out of your mouth impulsively, the barely formed thoughts surprising you.

Jing Yuan's eyes open. He looks curious. A moment passes before he responds. "How come?"

You purse your lips before turning away to think. Knowing this Jing Yuan simply lets the hand on your arm start gently stroking you. He'll patiently wait for your answer. He always does.

After a while you turn your body to face him. One hand is supporting you on the ground while you rest the other on his side. "Because," you pause and squeeze the hand you have on him. You're always nervous to voice the feelings you harbor deep within. But in the end you can't help being an open book for him. He makes it so easy to do so. "Because maybe I could have known you sooner. We could've had more time together. And... you wouldn't have had to be alone for centuries."

He's silent as he takes in your words, eyes never leaving you. Then an amused huff escapes him as he brings his free hand to cup your face. The smile Jing Yuan's giving you drives you insane, the one where he looks so utterly in love with you that it constricts your heart to the point it feels like it's going to burst from the overwhelming affection you have for him. Those feelings are where this thought originated from. You love him so much it makes you greedy. Greedy for him. You want his everything and you want to give him everything in turn. You hate that you've missed so much of his life. You want all of him including the past you can't have. To make him irrevocably yours, and you his.

Jing Yuan draws you closer, his thumb lovingly caressing your cheek. It brings your attention back to him. You wonder how much of your thought process he's aware of. Your noses are almost touching now. He's smiling as he speaks. "I have you now."

It takes a moment to find your voice as you find yourself lost in his eyes. "Is that enough?"

He's staring at you like he wants to get lost in yours too. "More than enough. We have our whole future ahead of us, don't we?"

Something inside of you snaps. The way he says it, like it's obvious the two of you will always be together. For a long time. It makes you delirious. Delirious with love. And you need to act on it or you really will burst. So you surge forward to kiss him. And he must have been expecting it because he's already turning on his back and taking you with him. The hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head to press you closer. Your own hands are gripping him tightly. His other hand now on your waist squeezes in response. And so the two of you lie there, luxuriating in each other's sweet kisses. You want to kiss him forever but the need to breathe wins out. You break away with a sigh. Jing Yuan's eyes gleam with mirth as he watches you and you feel as if your breath's been stolen again.

You wonder if you should say something but the only thing you're capable of coming up with is a flurry of I love you's. Jing Yuan seems to know what's rattling in your head for his gaze softens. He brings a hand up to your face again but this time you lean into it and grab it. He chuckles. "You're always so sweet for me," he says, looking so incredibly fond of you.

You hum in acknowledgement. "I love you," you mewl. You love Jing Yuan so much, how could you not want to be so sweet and good for him? He's gone through so much yet still remains so good and kind hearted without ever expecting anything in return. But you want to return it. You want to give him the love he lives by and fill his life with joy. This is the second origin of your thoughts. If you knew him longer you could've started making him the happiest man on the Luofu sooner.

"I love you, too. Very much." He says it like it's a secret just for you, all while looking horribly smitten. It sends your heart soaring. You smile at him and there's no doubt it's just as smitten as his.

Jing Yuan stills and you don't have any time to react as he's the one surging forward to kiss you this time. However this kiss is different. It's searing and tantalizing. You feel your world tilt as Jing Yuan turns to settle over you trapping you under him. His lips part briefly and then give a chaste peck before pulling away to grin at you. It's a playful grin, almost smug. He tilts his head to the side almost as if he's challenging you.

You're wide eyed as you take a moment to recover. Then you laugh and shake your head, smiling all the while. "You're such a scoundrel."

"Only for you." You can tell how much he's enjoying this from the delightful smirk he's wearing.

"Yes, yes, you're my scoundrel." You reach up to pat his head. There's a small hum as his eyes close momentarily in pleasure.

"Do you regret being loved by a 'scoundrel'?" The amusement is clearly written on his face. It's evident he knows what the only answer is.

You scoff. Fleetingly you wonder how to continue but Jing Yuan's assurance in your love for each other always makes you want to be sincere. So you smile and answer, "No. I could never."

A quiet moment passes where Jing Yuan simply returns your smile before he's leaning down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'm afraid there's no escaping from me now." Suddenly, you're very aware of the hands that grip your waist a little tighter and how you're effectively pinned beneath him. It's like he's saying you're his and the thought sends a thrill through you. You're in the palm of his hands now and that's your favorite place to be.

You bring up your arms to wrap them around his neck. You easily pull him closer to you. The two of you stare at each other as the silence simmers with a gentle heat. It's broken—but not gone—when you quietly tell him, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Because you can't escape from me either."

Jing Yuan practically lights up at that. He grins, pleased. "I'm all yours." You think Jing Yuan likes to enable your possessiveness. Something about it seems to fill him with satisfaction. Maybe it's knowing that someone could feel so ardently for him. That somehow you've chosen to love him and never rescind it. Or at least that's how you feel about him and his possession of you. It does make you greedy. He's greedy. He'll take whatever you give him and return it tenfold. You two are lovesick and doomed to never recover.

The thought is tickling. You laugh. There's no need for words so you simply lean forward to kiss him. He meets you halfway. You can't tell who started it but it doesn't matter. Each one speaks of the love you hold for the other.

Jing Yuan pulls away with a nip to your bottom lip. Your breath hitches. Both from the action and the way he's now looking at you. He wants to proposition you. You know he will. And he knows you'll agree. He'll be so nice and sweet as he asks you it'll leave you swooning. You both know this and yet it never gets any less exhilarating.

You can feel the anticipation grow within you as you watch him draw closer. Jing Yuan rests his forehead against yours. He's smiling. The desire in his beautiful golden eyes holds you captive. One of his hands is lightly trailing down your arm to grab your hand. He interlaces his fingers with yours. The two of you remain like that for a moment to take each other in. Finally Jing Yuan says to you, "My dear," and it's spine tingling the way he calls to you so reverently. "Allow me to express my love for you in other ways. Let me show you how good I can be for you, hm?"

His words send a delightful shiver through you. "Please, Jing Yuan," you answer him but it's more of a plead. He really is so good to you. Whatever he gives you, you also want to return tenfold. Jing Yuan gives you one last fond smile before he's up and carrying you to your shared bed. The love you have for him is bubbling up again and threatening to overflow. You also want to express it in other ways. To tether him with sweet adoration and endless devotion like he readily does to you. It's a fulfilling game of give and take neither of you want to end.

[colourstreakgryffin]

May I request Husk with young daughter reader? Like reader is his daughter from his overlord days and reader stayed by his side by her father when he was taken under Alastor? She a little sweet, genuine darling who loves her papa.

Hehe! Awww! I love Husk and I am so excited to write for him independently! Let’s give our grumpy cat bartender lots of love~!

Husker- Precious Kitten

May I remind you all that it’s canon that Husk is great with children and is extremely patient? So, you know that Husk is the best dad in Hazbin Hotel and his daughter is very cared for

Husk regrets losing his Overlord power to Alastor but apart of his deal with Alastor is that he doesn’t touch you nor does he keep you away from Husk. So, even though this deal is complete bullshit, he has the one thing keeping him happy

You never leave his side and Husk will fight anybody to make sure you’ll be right there. He isn’t a fan of you being around his bar but he doesn’t trust anybody with you, he wants you to be at arm’s length all the time

Husk is naturally overprotective over his young daughter because of Alastor. He went from protective, because of Hell and the dangers of being a child in Hell but now, it’s bumped up to a extreme level since he is afraid Alastor may try something to torment him

Husk may hate the domestic cat instincts and habits his current form has but that doesn’t stop him from licking your fur when he feels like you need to be clean. He’ll pick you up with his mouth, put you down on his counter and lick your fur. It’s quite cute since it’s much like a mama cat and her kitten

You’re his human child as well, hence why he is so close to you. The daughter whose birth was responsible for the love who killed his ability to love’s death. Whilst he lost his love, he gained a new one and since you did some shady things in your childhood, always linked to your father’s hand. You dropped into Hell with him when you were both shot to death

Husk won’t ever let you be around anything adult. So, that means he is much more harsh and strict with Angel Dust, demanding he acts child friendly whilst at his bar and gets into arguments with the spider sinner over you. You’re his sunshine, his limelight, his little angel. Husk won’t let anybody taint you… anymore than you already are

Husk is a bit more desperate to get back his Overlord powers since he can barely protect you in this realm, even if he is always around so he is trying to confront Alastor to break the contract. He needs to keep his babygirl safe at all causes

Husk likes to hold you in one of his arms whilst doing his bartending work with the other. Feeling his soft kitten sleeping on his chest and laying in his arm is such a comforting feeling, makes the tension blow away… it’s the only real comfort he gets in this shit sandwich of a demon life

Husk is amazing at playing with you, trust me. He is grumpy and calloused but he is actually very childish and has a vivid imagination that enables yours. He will keep you entertained and constantly learns new magic tricks to blow your cute little mind

Yes, Husk cannot stop himself from purring anytime he holds you. It’s a reflection of his joy when around you and whilst he dislikes the cat features, he can excuse the purring to focus on you

Husk has been working much later at his bar. Cleaning up bottles with his beloved little kitten, the little girl who was right there the entire time. Right next to him when Alastor first summoned Husk to the Hotel and right there when Husk became an Overlord then lost his identity to Alastor but he didn’t lose everything. He managed to keep you, Husk managed to convince the Radio Demon to let him take care of his own daughter

Husk silently stacks up the sparkling alcohol glasses, being quiet as possible. The only hearable noises are his paws shuffling on the ground, two sets of gentle breathing and light clinks of gorgeous clean glasses. Husk is staying quiet so his babygirl, Leitora, can sleep peacefully

As usual, you’ve been with him since the beginning of his shift and you’re here with him to the end of it

You’re much younger than most Sinners here. The youngest is eighteen… you’re eight. Having died so young and only at Hell because you mimicked your gambling and crime-filled father(you didn’t drink— fuck, you didn’t drink!). But Husk is so glad you’re here, he’d be suffering and entirely miserable if you were up in Heaven

He isn’t happy that you’re in the worst realm after your short life was taken away from you so abruptly and cruelly but he is also thankful that you’re okay and that you’re thriving in a area he can always overlook you

Eventually finishing up wiping down the front bar counter with a slightly damp soft cloth through those few more minutes of silent and steady working, the dark emptiness of the Hotel foyer looming over his head. Husk readjusts the way he holds you to his fluffy chest so you’re more comfortable. Ignoring how numb his forearm and hand feels, he just loves hugging you to him

It fills the void called his heart. He doesn’t have much luck with romance nor gambling but he has the best prize any man could ever want

You’re sweet, you’re precious, you’re very loving and attached to him, you’re such a nice little angel. You resemble Charlie Morningstar almost perfectly and you even have matching cat features to his. It ties the father-daughter dynamic you two share even more, making it stronger and making your bond stronger. Husk’s sharp golden yellow eyes switch inbetween hanging up the damp rag to air dry to your head laid on his shoulder, your small little face sleeping peacefully, your soft pretty eyes fluttered close

In a single blink, Husk is brought back into a livid memory. The moment resembles one he had when he was rocking a four year old you asleep on his chest, back when both of you were humans and he can’t help but feel his undead heart swell with pride and a overwhelming sense of joy at that memory

His life was quite shit, even on Earth but he had the single card of positivity in the deck of darkness, and that card is the little girl his longtime wife gave him whose ended up with him through all of eternity

As soon as he finished with this shift, the menacing darkness of the spacious room begins to linger even further but it doesn’t intimidate Husk in any fashion. He opens the employee-only entrance gate from the back-around column built into the back of the bar so he can get out. Taking his daughter with him, his glowing yellow eyes making a resemblance of a flashlight so he can lead himself through the Hotel’s extravagant hallways

Husk eventually, after a single elevator ride and a bit of rocking you in his arms so you don’t get jolted awake every time he steps in his relaxed pace, softly pushes open the door of the hotel room he shares with you and whilst he is quite tired, he prioritises your comfort and ability to sleep over his. Walking up to the cute child bed right besides his own casual big one, the colourful bed Charlie had made for you

Husk places you into the bed, drawing back the cute vibrant blankets then tucking the two layers of thick cool fabric so you’re cuddled up and comfy, the mere second he plops you onto the mattress and the pillow holding up your head. The soft purring coming out inbetween every breath sends waves of serotonin over the Hazbin Hotel bartender, enabling his own instinctive purring

Tucking his beloved child in is a familiar act Husk is quite accustom to; putting you to bed, getting you food, picking you up, playing with you, dressing you, making you smile and laugh at his magic tricks, making sure nobody will try feed you alcohol

Husk can’t help but admire his little kitten sleep for a bit longer, maybe a few seconds at most. Yeah, you’ve been with him all day, every day but he can never get tired of your presence. You’re his precious gemstone and his love for you far surpasses everything. Running a hand through your soft shorter fur, he eventually pulls away to let you rest on your own, you’ve been asleep for maybe two to three hours now and he wants you to get the needed amount undisturbed

Husk undoes his uniform, messy and too tired to even bother being tidy and sophisticated with his belongings, due to how shit this day has been, and flops onto his bed to immediately pass out. But he doesn’t do any of that before whispering out one more thing, certain that you won’t hear him and kissing your little forehead

He isn’t aware that you heard him, slightly waking up at the feel of his lips on your skin

“Goodnight, Kitten…”

[soy-soi-si]

Okay but 141 or any cod men with a Reader exactly like Morticia Adams.

GIVE ME THEM ABSOLUTELY LOVING EACH OTHER, AND READER BEING A HUGE BAD BITCH. Give me a reader that knows her worth, and how to communicate with her Men! A reader that literally cannot be tortured because she will enjoy it. A reader that will tease, flirt, and bask her s/o in her attention and expect the same devotion.

[eleu22]

please do dissect ghost!!

Ghost vs Simon

i would be absolutely delighted to !!!

ghost being… well ghost is a character who has been dissected from hell and back. I see so many people arguing about how to correctly characterise him and im here to tell you, you’re all wrong, only my opinion is correct (jk)

ok but in all seriousness - ghost is an incredibly interesting character and i think to do him justice we need to start at the beginning.

ghost had (as you all probably know) a rough upbringing. from his semi-absent abusive father to his mothers drug addiction, it was in no sense of the word an easy life. I think (poetically) simon was born a fire, he has from day 1 had to fend for himself, that’s all he knows.

ghost is two people, ghost and simon, both within one.

i think the way people tend to look at ghost is usually one of two things, one, that simon died in that coffin and ghost was born and the other is that, ghost is the cold blooded killer, simon the humanity within him.

and i don’t disagree with either

well not entirely,

i think yes, simon is the humanity within ghost

and though we only see this in glimpses- it is there, like when in the alone mission he told Soap stupid jokes to stop him from freaking out or when he as a sign of trust revealed his face to his team

i think simon is the human within ghost, who desires connection, love, camaraderie and life as much as we all do

but i don’t think ghost is this separate side to him, the killer we see in the games, i dont think simons dead either (even if that is what ghost himself thinks) i think the cold nature of ghost is the leash

and humanity isn’t kind, simon is the one who desires vengance, hes the one who dug his way out of that coffin- not ghost, hes the one who refuses to die- that innate, human, primal desire to survive.

like a caged animal backed into a corner, a corner he’s been in his whole life

i dont think ghost or simon in any sense enjoys what he does- it’s made clear through his voice-lines in multiplayer

but i think this quote sums it up quite well

ghost is simply the muzzle simon wears, the mask to cover the shaking dog inside of him.

because ghost knows this better than anyone, humans are animals and with desire comes blood

and simon will cut you if he has to, he will dig himself out of that coffin

again

and again

because simon simply refuses to die

but that’s what makes him such a good soldier, an unrelenting, loyal, dog. but no matter who it is, if you hit, he will bite.

[crystalflygeo]

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

[appleblueberry-pie]

I just want a drabble or hcs about miles being OBSESSED with reader. Like-

girl i got a few of those. did you read them all??

here

here

here's another one

here's ANOTHER good one

the list goes on

here's another recent one if you missed it

[tempting-andromeda]

Javier Escuella headcanons

Has a problem with responding to things with a shrug even if he has an answer

If you’re a native English speaker he always looks to you for a word

Gets flustered if you flirt with him. Like he’ll playfully give you a compliment but if you give him one back he needs to give himself a moment

An absolute mess if you play with his hair. He groans and gets so embarrassed over it

Has both a resting bitch face and a resting confused face

Likes to play you songs but gets flustered about it

Cannot smile on command. It looks too awkward. He looks like a child posing for a photo

When he first flirts with you he’s loud. He’s overcompensating and it’s awkward but somehow charming

He’s so sweet when he apologizes he gets you some flowers and he gives you a sincere apology but if you ignore him anymore he nearly crumbles

Has fallen asleep while waiting for you in your tent

Speaking of sleeping

I feel like he sleeps with a leg up on his stomach kinda sprawled out

One time you got snappy with him and he didn’t fight it at all and he kinda just “am I the bitch in the relationship? :/“

Tried to flirt by playing you songs but if you talked to him he just kinda…ignored you because he knew he was gonna mess up if he talked to you and wanted to look cool

He’s kinda sensitive about his scars but if you place a kiss against any them he’s a flustered fool

If you’re sitting down on a crate by the campfire he’ll sit on the ground under you instead of the seat next to you

Gives a new explanation every time you ask (he just likes it.)

Likes to take you fishing and likes to try to impress you by showing off but has slipped into the water more than once

Has had so many “thank you, Barbie” moments with you

He becomes a puddle if you adjust his clothing or fix his hair. He just thinks it’s so tender

Talks about taking you to his home town in Mexico a lot

Gets embarrassed complimenting in front of people so he whispered them into your ears and it became a habit

Adjusts his shirts and his lil bandana every time he sees you

He just wants to look nice for you