#he is always ultra careful with females

[latent-thoughts]

"Azriel is a fuck boi." "Azriel has the personality of a wash cloth." "Azriel is a creep." "Azriel is a stalker." "Azriel doesn't understand consent." Etc. etc....

I keep reading these mind-blowing takes in the Azriel and ACOTAR tags here, and....

All I can say is...

Well, reading comprehension is a rare commodity these days. 👀

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

[bro-atz]

principia

in which: you're struggling with a specific class that's required for your major; but, luckily, your professor, professor jeong, has no problem helping you out outside of class

pair: professor!yunho/afab!reader

word count: 6k

content: smut, teacher x student relationship (college level, so it's completely legal mind you), late night study sessions, vaginal sex, soft and sensual, completely consensual!

author's note: i was definitely thinking about jung kyungho in crash course in romance while i was writing this... but it's definitely not like crash course in romance that i can say for certain

apply for the permanent taglist here! professor!series: yunho pt. 1, yunho pt. 2, san pt. 1, san pt. 2, yeosang, seonghwa

You seriously wondered why you decided to pursue a career in STEM. You remembered liking physics back in high school, but now learning at a higher institution, you feared that you made a huge mistake. Then, you took one look at your teacher, and all of that concern immediately disappeared.

The thing with this class was that every student in your major was required to take it, and truth be told, you took the class because it fit well with your schedule. You had no idea who the professor was before joining the class, and you only found out from your friends after you registered that you actually got incredibly lucky securing a seat in his class because his classes were always the first to fill up.

His name was Jeong Yunho— Professor Jeong. He was probably one of the smartest men you were ever going to meet. He was super successful in the world of physics and was always in the news for some reason or the other. He had a huge fanbase inside and outside of your college for a multitude of reasons, one of them being because of his rakishly good looks. His classes were always filled to the brim with female students, and you just so happened to be one of them. You were constantly surrounded by other female students in that class who would always actively participate in the lectures because they wanted so desperately for Professor Jeong to notice them. You, on the other hand, always kept quiet in that class and did your best to pay attention to the material because the class material was just too fucking hard for you.

You spent a lot of your free time studying in the library to the point where your roommate worried about whether or not you were even going to come home to eat and sleep properly. You wouldn’t have cared so much about this class if it wasn’t required for you to get your degree, so you were ultra stressed about doing well in the class. You did reason with yourself that if you failed the class, then you could retake it with Professor Jeong again and get to appreciate his beauty all over again, but you were on a tight schedule, and if you fucked up this class, then you would fuck up the rest of your schedule to graduate.

“Y/N, you can study at home…” you roommate called you, worried about your late night whereabouts.

“I know, but I definitely won’t focus. This class is just insanely hard, I need to focus as much as I can.”

“It’s literally Friday night. Come home, please!”

“Let me finish the homework at least. I’ll be back soon, I promise,” you said, knowing that your promise was definitely a lie.

You heard your roommate sigh before hanging up on you. Immediately, you set your phone across the table to keep you from going on your phone every two seconds. You had your textbook open in front of you, and after about three lines, all the words and numbers started to blur together. You let out a deep sigh and buried your face in your textbook. It was hopeless. Either you had to pray for a miracle or retake the class the next semester.

Then, the miracle happened. Professor Jeong was in the library with a huge stack of papers that needed to be graded. He was looking for a place to sit and get this work done, but every single table was occupied. He walked past your table, only to backtrack. He barely saw any of the content in the textbook, but he immediately knew that you were studying for his class because he instantly recognized one of the problems on the page.

“May I sit here?” you heard your professor ask quietly.

You looked up and felt your face get warm quickly. You had never seen Professor Jeong from so close before. You nodded and immediately brought your eyes back to your textbook, suddenly feeling self conscious that you were doing his work right in front of him. Professor Jeong took a seat across from you and spread out his papers, only to keep glancing at you— he not only recognized the textbook, but he also recognized you.

“Are you in my class?” Professor Jeong whispered to you.

You nodded.

“Oh, so you’re working on the assignment from class then… It’s a Friday night! You should be enjoying your weekend.”

“Ha, yeah right,” you instinctively responded sarcastically, only to realize who you were talking to. “Sorry, professor… I meant, like, I can’t do that when I barely understand anything.”

He laughed. “You can call me Yunho. Professor is so stifling.”

“Al-alright, Yunho…” you said, his name feeling foreign on your tongue.

“What’s so hard to understand?”

“Um, everything. I thought I had a good grasp on the subject until the first week of classes. Now, I feel like I know nothing…”

“What’s your name, again?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N… Oh! I remember your last test. I was wondering what happened there…” Yunho recollected.

“Yeah, I did not do well at all…”

“No, you were doing well, but then didn’t finish the problems correctly. If anything, I think you just got way into your own head. You have a good understanding of the fundamentals, which is always a great starting point.”

The flattery was nice, but that still didn’t change how miserable you felt about your knowledge on the subject. You graciously accepted Yunho’s praise, but your kept your head down knowing that despite the praise, you were still struggling to grasp the current unit. Yunho noticed your reaction, to which he wanted to do something to change that because he did not like the fact that you looked absolutely miserable because of him. He placed a light hand on your textbook and said, “Hey, if you would like, I could tutor you every now and then.”

“Really? I mean, are you sure?”

“Of course. It’s my job as an educator, isn’t it? I want to see you do well in my class.”

You stared at the God-sent figure before you. Sure, it was his class you were studying for, but you were grateful for the help regardless. You nodded your head slightly, a small smile settling on Yunho’s face. He set aside his own materials and gestured to ask if he could sit in the seat next to you. You nodded, and Yunho moved from his seat to the one next to you. He pulled the textbook towards himself and glanced at the page briefly before immediately pointing at the problem you were stuck on.

“This one is tough,” he started. “Essentially, what you want to do is…”

Yunho explained the problem to you in depth, and you took every single note. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t get the information in class— Yunho was an excellent teacher, and you always paid attention in class, but learning from him one on one was so much more beneficial for you.

The two of you left the library at the same time that night. Yunho got absolutely no work done, but you ended up finishing all of the homework that was due for his class. You both stood outside of the library and talked, giving you the chance to thank him.

“Thank you so much, Professor— I mean… Yunho…” saying his name out loud was still incredibly foreign to you.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Now, enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you in class next week.”

Yunho waved and took off. You departed as well, heading in the opposite direction of him. You felt a lot better about the class now, and you were starting to feel hopeful that you would, in fact, be able to graduate on time.

The class was still incredibly hard. You found yourself cooped up in the library every single Friday trying to learn, and every single Friday, Yunho would sit with you and help you with the lessons and homework. It was a ritual that would begin with you stressing in the library and end with you and Yunho going your separate directions at the end of the night.

One day, while you were sitting in class waiting for the professor to show up, you were sitting next to a bunch of girls talking about him.

“I want to take a bite out of his ass,” one girl said, immediately sending you into whiplash to see who on Earth was talking about the educator in that way.

“Tell me about it. Whenever he wears those tight pants of his, I feel like combusting,” another girl said.

“Did you guys see what that one girl wrote on the fan club forum?” the girl who wanted to take a bite out of Yunho’s ass pulled out her phone and showed the girls.

You craned your neck to see— what the fuck did they mean by fan club forum? Apparently, there was a forum on the school network dedicated to Professor Jeong Yunho, and on the forum was a post that one of the girls read out loud.

“I would do anything for Professor Jeong to step on me with his long legs and pants that make his booty look so nice… When he stands and puts more weight on one of his legs while crossing his arms over his chest? I lose my goddamn mind. I’d do anything for him to annihilate me.”

“Yikes, this girl is down bad,” Yunho’s ass girl commented.

“I wouldn’t be talking if I were you, ass kink,” the other girl responded while rolling her eyes.

“Hey, better than a foot kink. Someone posted that they would buy Professor Jeong’s feet pictures.”

“That forum is weird…”

You, meanwhile, tuned out from their conversation. Yes, Yunho was definitely attractive, but not once have you thought about him in a sexual sense. You were so out of it that you didn’t even know that Yunho entered the classroom and started teaching. The lesson completely went over your head because you were too busy staring at Yunho’s legs.

The girl on the forum was right. He looked so nice from behind when he stood and had more of his weight on one of his legs while he wrote on the board. And, when he turned around to ask the class a question, you felt your face flush. How could you think about your professor in this sense? More importantly, how on Earth were you going to succeed in the class now that you could only salivate every time you saw the man?

You were praying that Yunho wouldn’t show up at the library that Friday night. Your luck had been turning around, but your luck wasn’t that nice to you because Yunho was there right on schedule and there to help you. When he sat right next to you, as usual, you held your legs together. Tension rose within you the more Yunho leaned towards you to point out problems and information on the textbook.

“Everything alright, Y/N? You’re kind of spacing out now, and I noticed that you were out of it in class the other day,” Yunho whispered.

You nodded frantically— you hated that he paid attention to you in class and that you couldn’t control your expressions that well. Hopefully, he believed you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m just, uh, a little under the weather. I think I’m going to head home and rest,” you told him while slowly sliding the textbook away.

“You should definitely get some rest. I’ll see you in class next week,” Yunho patted your shoulder lightly.

You nearly flinched when you felt Yunho’s warm touch. Being so close to this hot human being was already extremely overwhelming, but now he was touching you? You desperately needed to leave before you absolutely lost your mind.

Your roommate was incredibly surprised to see you home so early that Friday night.

“Did you actually finish your homework quickly for once?” she asked in shock.

“No… I couldn’t take it anymore…”

“Damn, I was going to congratulate you. What happened?”

You told her about everything that happened that week from learning about the fan-club forum to how you couldn’t look at Yunho with a pure mind anymore. She nodded in understanding before answering, “Professor Jeong is fine… All I can really tell you is to remain professional with him. You need to pass this class to graduate.”

“I know… Is there a way for me to get over this… Fucked up crush or whatever the hell it is?”

“Get laid? Go have a one night stand or something.”

“No!”

“Well, then suck it up. I literally have no advice because this is such a weird situation to begin with.”

With a heavy sigh, you nodded and retired to your bedroom for the night. You prayed to God that your mind wouldn’t give you any wet dreams about the man, but let’s face it, you knew you were going to. When you woke up the next morning, you seriously wondered about your sanity. Maybe the only way to get over him would be to sleep with someone else like your roommate suggested, but you didn’t have the physical or mental capacity for that kind of relationship right now. You just had to suck it up and try your best to act normal in front of your professor.

Soon, it was Friday night once again. That week, whenever you had class, you would enter right before class would start and immediately run out as soon as class ended to avoid Yunho. You even considered not going to the library to get the work done, but you knew that if you went home, nothing would get done. With bated breath, you attempted to study while waiting for Yunho to show up as he usually did to help you.

Yunho showed up later than usual, and he was actually surprised to see you studying in the library. He approached your table and sat across from you.

“Y/N, I’m surprised to see you here,” he said to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Your results from the last quiz were good, and you were in and out of class promptly this week. I assumed it was because you got a good grasp of everything now,” Yunho didn’t sound hurt— he sounded proud, but the look on his face said otherwise.

“I-I mean,” you stammered and cleared your throat. “I’m starting to get it, but I still can’t focus at home…”

“Ah, I get it.”

You nodded and returned to your textbook, your legs pressing together as you tried desperately not to think about Yunho in the naughty way you had been for the past week or so.

“Do you mind if I see what you’ve finished so far?” Yunho asked, snapping you out of your blank mind.

You passed Yunho your notebook and textbook. He quickly reviewed the three problems you had managed to solve in two hours, his lips quickly pulling into a frown. Your heart sank— the look on his face pretty much told you that you didn’t get a single thing right.

“Okay, so here’s where you went wrong with the first problem— Uh, is it okay if I take the seat next to you?” Yunho was about to explain the problem, only to ask for permission to move closer.

You nodded for what felt like the twentieth time in ten minutes. Yunho took the seat next to you, and he explained the problem. Thankfully, all of the dirty thoughts you had disappeared the second you started properly studying. You knew that you and Yunho were leaning into each other as you shared the textbook, but your body wasn’t physically reacting to his touch in the slightest, which made you all sorts of relieved. All you needed was for Yunho to actually teach you for your mind to get out of the gutter.

He had assigned ten problems for the homework that week, and you were able to get through six of them before the library staff came to your table and kicked you out. You and Yunho stood outside the library doors as you tried to figure out how you were going to finish the last four problems before class the next week.

“Y/N? You okay? You have a grim look on your face,” Yunho said softly.

“Yeah, well, no. I don’t know how I’m going to finish the rest of the homework… I think I’m going to lose my mind this weekend just trying to work on the other four problems…” you sighed.

“Well, I want you to be able to enjoy your weekend…” Yunho trailed off as he thought out loud. “I have an idea, but you’re more than welcome to decline.”

You shot him a questioning look. You noticed Yunho’s ears get slightly red as he looked away and cleared his throat. He seemed to be mustering up the courage to tell you his proposal.

“Would you like to come back to my place? We can hash everything out tonight so you can relax the rest of the weekend.”

You couldn’t help but gawk. You knew for a fact that all the girls in that fan-club forum would kill for the situation you were in right now, but you, on the other hand, actually debated the idea. The thought of finishing your homework with the professor and knowing that you did the homework correctly made you want to eagerly say yes, but you also wondered about whether or not you’d be able to remain sane if you did go back to his place.

“What do you say?”

Yunho’s apartment was nice. No, nice was an understatement. His place was fucking gorgeous. He had a duplex in the middle of the city that was minimalist and elegant and expensive as hell. You knew that he was pretty famous in the field, but it didn’t occur to you that he would be rolling in dough (especially because he was a college professor and you didn’t think that professors made that much money).

He led you to the dining table and gestured for you to take a seat, which you did timidly. You felt way out of place in such a posh place that you couldn’t help but shrink down in the chair. You felt even more out of place when you saw Yunho unbutton the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and rolled them up, revealing his muscular forearms. You had to swallow the pool of saliva collecting in your mouth quietly to keep it together.

“You can just take out your notebook. I’ll grab my textbook. It’s filled with my annotations,” Yunho told you as he walked towards a room.

So, you pulled out your notebook and pencil case and waited for Yunho to return from what you assumed was his bedroom. He sat down next to you and opened the textbook to the assigned pages. He immediately got down to business, leaving you to wonder about his apartment later and focus on the homework first.

It took you about an hour to get through the remaining problems— the annotations in his textbook really made the process go faster. You were astounded by the details of his notes. You knew that his work was very eloquent based off the way he solved the problems in class, but seeing them in his personal textbook was a whole new game. You were even more amazed by your professor at that point.

“How do you feel about the problems now?” Yunho asked while closing his textbook.

“Amazing. Thank you so much, Yunho,” his name was starting to become easier for you to say.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I’m glad I was able to help,” Yunho smiled sweetly at you as he placed a light hand on yours.

You felt your entire body flush when he touched you. You immediately locked eyes with him, your body tingling as he kept his hand on yours. Yunho looked as though he wanted to say something, but he didn’t utter a word. His hand, however, went from resting on yours to going under your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. He held your hand and brought it to his chest. Your heart raced faster and faster the closer he got to you.

“You know, Y/N,” Yunho started his voice hushed. “I worry about you.”

“W-why?”

“You’re one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met, and I admire your tenacity. All I want is for you to succeed.”

“But why do you worry about me?”

“The past couple of weeks, you’ve been acting rather odd. Did something happen for you to be acting this way?”

“I… Uh…”

“You can trust me, Y/N. You can tell me anything.”

He looked into your eyes earnestly. You didn’t know how to vocalize your thoughts to him because, truth be told, you didn’t want to tell him the truth, but you didn’t want to lie to him either. You cast your eyes downward, unsure of what to do.

“Y/N, I just want you to know… You’re an incredible person, and you’re so smart and capable. Please remember that when you’re having a rough time…”

Yunho cupped your face and left a soft kiss on your cheek, your heart nearly bursting through your chest. You looked up immediately and locked eyes with him once again. Yunho rubbed your cheek with his thumb lightly, his gaze getting softer. Your heart was pounding so hard that it was all you could hear. You were barely able to hear Yunho’s voice over the sound.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

You nodded slightly. You closed your eyes then felt his lips press against yours lightly seconds later. Your eyes fluttered open when the kiss ended, and you saw a look of longing on Yunho’s face. He finally let go of your hand, only to place his hand on your waist as he brought his face to yours once more. Your hand held onto his shoulder as he kissed you again, his lips trapping your upper lip. He kissed you slowly and delicately as if you were a glass doll.

You don’t know how he managed, but Yunho somehow brought you to his bedroom, his lips still passionately connected with yours. He laid you down gently on his bed and pinned you down, his fingers slipping under your shirt and moving upwards slowly, his fingernails tickling your ribs. He left you with a mind-numbingly sensual kiss before sitting up. He knelt before you as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt before discarding it behind him, the fabric rustling as it flew through the air and fell onto the ground.

If only the girls of the forum could see him now. The bedroom lights were off, so the only things illuminating the room were the lights from the buildings outside and the minimal moonlight that shone through the city faintly shining on the pale skin of Yunho’s body. He had a beautiful figure. His defined muscles swelled up as he pinned you down again. He pressed light kisses against your jawline and neck, making your toes curl.

“Y/N,” Yunho breathed out, his breath tickling your collarbone. “Let me know if at any point you would like to stop, and I’ll stop.”

There was no way in hell you were going to ask him to stop. You felt his lips suck lightly on the skin on your neck, earning a slight moan from you. You held onto his shoulders and continued to stifle moans the more he left light hickeys all over your neck and whatever was exposed of your chest in your top.

Usually, you were one for animalistic instincts, and every time you dreamt about Yunho, you dreamt about him completely ravaging you. You didn’t expect him to be so soft, and you didn’t expect to like it so much. All of your senses were heightened. When his fingers made any sort of contact with your bare skin, your nerves tingled. Your arms instinctively wrapped around him and your fingers were buried in his hair when he returned to your neck, his teeth occasionally nibbling at your sore skin.

You nearly whimpered when he moved away from you. He held the hem of your shirt and removed it, your shirt dropping to the ground. His arms wrapped around you and unhooked your bra before pushing your bra up. Your bra was still on you, and at first you thought it was a little uncomfortable, but then Yunho began sucking on your nipples and all the discomfort immediately disappeared. Between the painfully good suction and his teeth tugging on your overly sensitive nipple every so often, you felt like you were losing your mind. Your hold on him only got tighter as he decided to alternate between breasts.

His fingers fumbled with unbuttoning your jeans briefly as his lips were still on your breast. With a soft sigh, he released your breast to move up and help you out of your jeans. He tossed the jeans to the side then ran his hot fingers along your leg, trailing upwards slowly until his fingers got to your panties. He trailed kisses along your torso as his fingers hooked onto the hem of your panties and pulled them down, his kisses trailing closer and closer to your cunt. He nudged your legs so that your feet were pressing into the bed while your knees were bent and up.

You knew that you were completely soaking wet at that point, and that fact was emphasized when Yunho ran two of his fingers up your pussy, his fingers teasingly pressing through your folds. They continued to barely penetrate you as Yunho brought his face up to lock lips with you again. While one hand was busy with your pussy, the other pulled off your bra, allowing you to move a little more comfortably. You ran your fingers through his hair and rested your other hand on his neck, pulling him into you because you desperately needed more of him and his lovely lips.

Yunho pushed two of his long, slender fingers inside you, which surprised you so much that you nearly making you bite his lower lip. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his fingers go further and further into you. He fingered you slowly as he continued to kiss you, making you feel all sorts of ways.

You were panting heavily when Yunho released your lips. He also pulled his fingers out, your arousal fluid completely coating his two fingers. When he licked his fingers, you covered your face in embarrassment— how could he just do something like that so casually?

The tinkling of Yunho’s belt buckle echoed in the room as he removed his belt. He leaned towards his nightstand and produced a condom before returning to you. He held the packet in between his teeth as he removed his pants and underwear, revealing his penis— his massive, smooth, straight, hard penis. As you stared at his penis, your eyes trying to calculate his length, Yunho ripped open the condom packet and swiftly rolled the condom on.

With one hand right above your shoulder and pressing into the mattress, Yunho positioned himself, the tip of his dick rubbing against you slowly. You couldn’t help but stare at him, your body flushing as you observed his facial features in the moonlight. He looked stunning as he hovered above you, his hair nearly shielding his eyes, his muscular arms tensing up as his penis slowly started making its way into you. You let out a gasp as you felt him stretch you out, his length fitting inside you completely to the point where you felt him hit your cervix.

“Y/N,” his husky voice rang out. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you responded while nodding.

“Okay. I’m going to start moving, then.”

That being said, Yunho pulled out just as slowly as he entered, only to thrust into you slightly faster. You let out tiny little yelps as you felt him move more and more, his waist hitting yours gently every time he thrusted into you.

“Ah! Yunho!” you cried out as you felt him repeatedly hit your cervix. “M-more!”

You didn’t even know what you meant by that, but Yunho apparently did. Moving from his hands to his elbows, he lowered his upper body. He brushed his lips past yours briefly at first before encompassing them. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and clutched him tightly.

Yunho’s pace sped up, the entire bed moving as he got faster and harder. Yunho let you freely moan and cry as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck to leave wet kisses. The sensation was too much for you— you felt yourself nearing your climax. You let out a breathy moan and dug your nails into Yunho’s skin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna to cum.”

Hearing your professor swear did it for you. You pushed your head back into the pillow and cried with pleasure as you came. Shortly thereafter, Yunho’s thrust slowed down, and with a final thrust, he came, his cock spasming inside you. Yunho groaned in your ear, the sound of his groan turning you on all over again.

After a brief moment, Yunho pulled out and removed the condom. He got off the bed to throw it away, leaving you in a puddle of yourself on his bed. You didn’t even realize that Yunho left his bedroom until you pushed yourself up, your back leaning against the headboard. He returned with a glass of water and handed it to you as he sat on the edge of his bed. You drank the water slowly as you watched the man let out a pleasant sigh.

“How do you feel?” Yunho asked, his body turning to face you.

“I feel really good,” you admitted honestly.

“Me too.”

He moved into the bed and sat next to you. He pulled the duvet over the two of you, allowing you to cover your naked body. Seeing that you were done with the water, Yunho took the glass from you and set it aside on his nightstand. His hand found yours, and he laced his fingers with yours while brushing hair out of your face with his other hand.

“You’re so lovely, Y/N. You’re so lovely and so beautiful,” Yunho whispered before leaving a small kiss on your temple.

Hearing the gorgeous man next to you compliment you made you all sorts of shy. You felt your face heat up as you avoided eye contact with him. You felt his fingers go under your chin and turn your head so that it was facing him again leaving the sweetest kiss on your lips. You got even more shy with that, but there was no way in hell Yunho was going to let you turn your head away from him again.

“Do you feel better now?” Yunho asked in reference to what got you, as he put it, all out of sorts.

“Actually… I do. I feel a lot better… I think…”

“You’re uncertain?”

You took a deep breath that ended with a sigh as you mustered the courage to tell Yunho the truth. You looked him right in the eye and said, “On one of the college forums, there’s a fan-club for you… Have you heard of it?”

“I have, actually. The other professors make fun of me for it all the time.”

Your eyes went wide— does that mean he saw the thirst post from that one girl that your classmates were talking about?

“Did you post anything on the forum?” he asked.

“What? No!” you were completely flustered.

“Damn, I was kind of hoping you did…”

Yunho saying “damn,” made you want to fuck him again right then and there, but you refrained because you were curious. “Why?”

“Because I want to know if you like me like that, too.”

“Well, I might not have posted on it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t agree with some of the stuff posted,” you mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“There was a post on the forum about the way you stand during class, and when I paid attention to what the post was pointing out, I immediately had… Dirty thoughts… About you…”

“Is that why you’ve been so squirrelly?” Yunho asked with a slight chuckle.

He cupped your cheek and rubbed it with his thumb, his fingers tracing along your sensitive ears. You pressed your face into his warm hand just a little more, enjoying the sensation of his lovely touch. You nodded and let out a light sigh, the weight of your dirty secret lifting off your shoulders. He kissed your forehead and smiled softly at you, your heart skipping a beat looking at the caring expression on his face.

“I have a question for you, then,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Does that mean you had dirty dreams about me?”

Embarrassed you dropped your face and covered it with your hands. You could tell that Yunho was trying to keep from laughing based off the way his chest was swelling up. He put his arm around you and hugged you, your hot cheek pressing against his even hotter chest.

“Then tell me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Was I better in your dreams or in real life?”

His question sent you into shock. “I-I really can’t say…” was your lame attempt at responding.

“Then tell me what I did in your dreams, and maybe we can make them a reality.”

You leaned away from Yunho and stared at him, your jaw dropped. You felt his hands trail along the curve of your waist then get to your thigh. He pulled your thigh up and closer to him, the look of lust on his face intensifying.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”

You thought seeing Yunho in class after the two of you had slept together was going to be very awkward and very weird, making you dread attending class. Why did Yunho have to make attendance mandatory?

But, when he walked in for the lesson, it was anything but awkward. You did have to press your legs together as you watched him teach, but you were completely captivated by him instead of avoiding his gaze at any given moment. And, when enough of the students in class were distracted, he shot you a sly wink, making your entire body flush with heat.

“How is it that Professor Jeong gets hotter every time we see him?” one girl near you whispered to another.

“Tell me about it… God, I’d do anything to have him pin me down and annihilate me.”

Your mind immediately flashed back to you and Yunho having sex and him becoming more animalistic after you described your dreams to him. You buried your face in your textbook so that no one would see your beet red face.

Before you could leave class, Yunho called your name, making you freeze in your tracks. You could feel the rest of your classmates who were still in the room stare at you (mostly the girls, their eyes full of envy). Yunho was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his legs shoulder width apart with most of his weight on one of his legs— also known as the stance that drove all the female students crazy. You walked towards the professor and stood before him, trying your best to remain calm, but your heart raced faster the closer you got to him.

“Are you understanding the material?” Yunho asked, despite already knowing your answer.

“Barely…”

“Then,” Yunho leaned towards you and lowered his voice. “Instead of studying in the library, let’s keep studying at my place from now on, okay?”

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Hello! I wanna know how would the tfa bots, elite guard and cons react to meeting a female bot who's based off the batmobile(any version is fine) came to life by an allspark fragment.

And maybe developing a crush on her.

I imagine this bot being confident, capable, serious, determined, a bit mysterious and a 100% certified badass. She's the bot version of Batman.

-Optimus feels so bad about his crush because he doesn't think he deserves someone like her. She's so much better than him and he would surely just be a liability to her. That is if she would even accept his feelings to begin with, were he ever to confess to her. Which he won't. He would rather keep all those feelings locked inside rather than air them out and risk getting his spark broken. After all, she's so involved with her job, one that he greatly respects, that he doubts she would even give him a chance. Doesn't stop him from staring at her with goo goo eyes whenever she swings by. Immediately volunteers to help her with whatever case she's working on, partially because he actually wants to help but also so he can protect her (though he knows she can take care of herself).

-Back when he was young, Ratchet dated quite a lot. Most of them were lighthearted, not so serious relationships. Thing was, there was a time in his life when he had a clear type; a bit cold, capable and deadly bots that could beat him up and reassemble him into a weapon if they wanted to. Now' Ratchet hasn't dated anyone for a long time and so he thought he was over this phase. Turns out, no, and now he's got a major crush. He's so tired and frustrated with himself because of it but he's also kinda thinking "yeah, I still got good taste" whenever he thinks about it. Fusses over her injuries whenever she gets back from a case or battle.

-Bumblebee thinks she's so cool but also really intimidating. Because of this, whenever he tries to act smooth or flirt he kinda ends up stumbling over his words or forgetting his next line, simply because his nerves makes his brain short circuit. When his words fail, Bee tries to impress her with his actions. By helping her with her cases, whatever she asked him or not, he tries to prove to her that he's a reliable guy, someone that can keep up with her.

-Bulkhead can't help but idolize her in a way and think of her as invincible. She's just so capable, always so calm and collected. She's like a real hero should be! He can't help but blush just thinking about her, imagining how it would be if she were to ever save him from danger (a damsel in distress kinda scenario). She's his new muse when it comes to art, his usual choice of bright colors creating an interesting contrast with her darker color scheme. Too shy to actually show these to her though.

-Being a cyber-ninja, Prowl is used to being the one slinking around in the shadows, stalking people and so on. But now he sometimes finds himself joined by this new bot, crouched over next to him, silent except for maybe a quiet greeting. And being so close to her, shoulder to shoulder, in the dark... well, he can't help but feel a bit distracted. She values justice but believes in mercy and forgiveness and Prowl finds that not just admirable, but beautiful. He values those quiet moments they have together, even if the intimacy is just in his head.

-Ultra Magnus wants her to join the autobots, simple as that. She would be a great asset. Not only is she capable, she's determined and with a great sense of what's right and wrong. He tells her this many times, putting emphasis of how many people she could help if she became an autobot. What he doesn't say, is how he also would be able to see her more. As a Magnus, Ultra will probably never conjux, as it would put his partner in great danger. But just being close to her, to work with her, would make him happy. She would never need to know of the feelings she inspire within him.

-Similar to Bumblebee, Sentinel finds her slightly intimidating. But that just makes her hotter in his optics. He finds her mysterious aura alluring and the fact that she keeps her distance to most people only makes him more curious. Tries to lay it on thick when he flirts with her but her blunt attitude and confidence makes him stumble. She just seems to unimpressed that it makes him feel awkward, out of place. This only motivates him to try harder though (he will never succeed).

-Jazz loves how much she cares about people. Yeah, she might seem cold and detached but the fact that she works so hard to help everyone, even bad guys, proves that she just wants to help. Her humble attitude and devotion to her cause is inspiring and makes Jazz want to be a better person. The fact that she believes in change and rehabilitation of criminals makes him question the legal system on Cybertron, where 'bad guys' are just thrown in jail.

-Both Jetfire and Jetstorm thinks she's the coolest bot in the universe, no doubt about it. Everything she does is just so effortlessly cool and they find themselves geeking out whenever they hear how she helped someone or beat up some bad guys. Not at all put off by her standoffish attitude and clings to her, complimenting her discreet paint job and unique alt mode. They gush to each other about how cool she is.

-More than anything, Megatron respects her. She's proven herself in every way; as a combatant, as a strategist, as a leader and as an intellectual. Because of this, she is one of the rare people that Megatron sees as an equal. He doesn't try to manipulate her, not like he does with everyone else, knowing that she can see right through it. Wishes he could turn her into a decepticon, maybe even his conjux, but respects her too much to assume that he could achieve that. Her will is like his own, unbreakable, and while it's a shame they have to be enemies, he finds it truly enjoyable to challenge her. (Batman/Joker dynamic except the Joker is arguably more sane).

-Fuuuuck, Starscream is trying so hard to be the Catwoman to this Batman it's almost not funny. Like, she catches him, puts him in handcuffs and the entire time he's like "oh no, foiled again by my most beautiful nemesis, are you sure there's no way I can convince you to let me go?". Does he want to be caught? No. Yes? He hates failing but he loves getting roughhoused by this bot in dark armor. Never stops trying to seduce her to his side.

-Blitzwing get's beat up and the entire time he's thinking "this ain't so bad" because at least he's getting beat up by his crush. While her sense of justice is, admittedly, a bit annoying, it's also so funny because that makes her easier for Random to tease. Not to mention there's nothing more hot than verbal sparring with your crush. Hothead is the one that's most enthusiastic about getting beat up.

-LUGNUT IS LOYAL TO HIS BELOVED CONJUX, STRIKA, AND WOULD NEVER BETRAY HER TRUST BY FALLING FOR SOME AUTOBOT-ALLY! ... That doesn't mean he can't look though. What? There's something incredibly attractive about a bot in dark armor that has a ton of hidden weapons on their person.

-Knowing how intelligent she is, Shockwave is incredibly weary of her, being confident that if they met she would somehow figure out that he's undercover as Longarm. This makes her a serious threat to his mission and the decepticon cause. At the same time, however, he can't deny how attractive this makes her in his optic. Finding someone that's so intelligent and perceptive is rare and her overall abilities makes her incredibly alluring.

-If Starscream is trying to be Catwoman, then Blackarachnia IS Catwoman. While she doesn't enjoy her plans being foiled, she finds herself charmed by this vigilante. They just have this aura of mystique around them that makes her want to get closer. Plays around with them while at the same time going all out. Surprisingly finds herself enjoying the challenge.

[xaharadesert]

ASMR Artists (Modern AU)- Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6)

A/N: I am so tired

❤️Julian❤️

Plague Doctor Takes Care of You (You Have The Black Plague) ASMR Roleplay

He starts his channel as a joke, but has fun with it and decides to keep going

Besides, a little extra income is more than welcome for a med student

None of his videos are serious; they’re all ultra specific and completely ridiculous

Minimal tingles, but people most watch him because he’s funny anyway

🧡Portia🧡

Hair care & gossip ASMR

No one knows whether the gossip is real or not

(It is, but it’s so elaborate that people assume that it can’t be real)

Teaches people how to take care of their curls

Pepi can always be heard in the background

Does lots of hair brushing and various styles; her videos are super calming and great to fall asleep to

She makes lots of compilations by request because most of her videos are on the shorter side

💛Lucio💛

Mukbang ASMR with super expensive foods

Only does livestreams because he likes to suddenly make really loud noises to jumpscare his audience

He’s mostly famous for controversies and being a troll, so the quality of his content does not really matter

A lot of people start watching him because he’s an attractive white guy and they’re willing to defend him to their last breath

Also gets a lot of hate watchers, but he still makes money from the interactions, so he doesn’t care

💚Muriel💚

Story time ASMR, usually beside his fireplace

Asra talked him into it, but Muriel ends up liking the sort of limited social interaction where he doesn’t actually have to see anyone face to face

He never shows his face, but he gets more than enough fans from his voice alone

He usually reads children’s books by request, but sometimes he reads longer ones for parts of a series

Ends up way more popular than he intended: people sponsor him to read their books in his videos, and he’s a bit worried he’s gonna mess up somehow

Sometimes collabs with Nadia on books with lots of female characters (she’s great at voices)

💙Asra💙

Soooo many magic roleplay ASMR series

Fairies, merpeople, vampires, sorcerers, etc, he’s done them all

Big fan of wood soup

Doesn’t do a lot of actual magic or witchcraft in his videos because it feels disingenuous to make up readings for a large audience

Usually adds a disclaimer just in case

Always has themed makeup, nails, and hair, and always looks gorgeous

Barely uploads because he’s got a dozen other hobbies, but when he does it’s usually a couple hours long

💜Nadia💜

Personal attention ASMR

Skincare, makeup, and hair brushing are her favourites, but she also does affirmations whenever she’s having a hard day

The videos are for her as much as they’re for her followers, since she’s super busy single-handedly running her own business

Likes to use her platform to bring attention to current world issues, and usually has segments at the end of her videos to shout out specialists and dedicated activists for her followers to check out

Preaches about mental health, but reminds her followers not to close themselves off from the world around them

[misseviehyde]

AUNTIE-PATRIACHY

Josh hated what was happening to him. The conditons of the Anti-Patriachy Act meant that like him, every eighteen year old boy in the country was currently mandated by law to swap bodies with a woman for at least four hours a day, but in his case - things were not going well.

Boys would usually be assigned someone in their family - but not a direct relation if possible. After six weeks of the program they would have a good understanding of living as a woman and be less likely to display patriachial or misogynistic behaviour. As everyone swapped at different times - their female relative would also get an opportunity to interact with their friends and call out unacceptable behaviour.

For Josh though - this meant becoming his evil Aunt Aletta. She wasn't like the women his friends were swapping with. Aletta was fake and plastic. Giant slutty titties hung from her chest, her pumped up lips were always coated in shiny lip gloss and her tight shaven pussy was always wet for big cock.

She was an evil, slutty, bimbo bitch who only cared about her own selfish pleasures. Her body was pampered and corrupted into a pleasure dolls. She lived in a vast mansion with an ultra-feminine life-style served by a cuck husband and an army of lovers.

Despite her addictive evil lifestyle, she actually loved swapping bodies with Josh. He was young, handsome and strong and to his horror, she spent her time as him seducing his female classmates and fucking them.

"Stop being such a pussy Josh," she grinned as they began another swapping session. "I never agreed with this dumb act in the first place - but now they're making us swap I'm enjoying it. You and I can have a lot of fun as each other. Most men your age are pathetic weaklings thanks to this bullshit. The girls your age are desperate for a good fucking and your body makes their pussies wet."

"Auntie - you can't say that kind of thing," gasped Josh adjusting his big tits uncomfortably in Aletta's too small clothing. "You're making my friends act worse and encouraging my female friends to be spoiled slutty bitches. You gotta stop."

Aletta laughed. "Corrupting your friends to go against the act is fun. I love showing girls the pleasure of using men to get what they want and turning your friends into hot bullying studs. By the time we finish this program, they'll be mean alpha bullies and you'll have no choice but to act like them or be ostracised. Now I'm going over to the head cheerleaders house to fuck her brains out and convince Ashley she should show more cleavage and use it to manipulate boys."

Josh knew he was supposed to report his Aunt for this kind of behaviour - but how could he? He didn't want to get them both into trouble.

It was also kind of... hot.

In the times he returned to his body he now found the other boys were all following his lead and the girls at school all wanted him. He was a stud now and his big dick felt good as he stroked it and imagined it inside all the hottest sluts at school who his Aunt was corrupting to be like her.

One day - Ashley even gave him a blowjob at school and as he fucked her face and pumped cum down her eager throat he had felt a surge of power and dominance that had really turned him on.

The bodyswapping wasn't meant to make you MORE patriachial and evil - but Aletta's interference was doing just that.

Meanwhile Josh wondered whether he could do the opposite to his aunt and make her act nicer when he had control of her life.

Her plastic big titted body DID feel fucking good. He began to look forward to getting inside. His friends were jealous of his big slutty tits and rich lifestyle.

Donald - Aletta's husband was a weak pathetic cuck. On his Aunt's advice he had Donald eat his pussy out and soon Josh came to enjoy the subservient losers eagerness to please his Mistress.

Far from make Aletta nicer - Josh began to enjoy the evil power being his Aunt gave him. As he played with his big fake tits and pumped a dildo in and out of his tight gripping cunt - Josh began to fall in love with being an evil slut.

He began to dress in his Aunt's nastiest outfits and embraced her ultra-feminine life. Dressing in tight latex catsuits and boots whilst having long slutty acyrillic nails felt so right. Nail bars, cocktails with the girls and sex games became the norm. He was a rich bitch and he loved it.

Soon Josh had begun to suck cock just as good as Ashley at school and before long he became accustomed to having two cocks at once. The bigger the better and it just made the pleasure more intense if Donald had to watch.

"Yesssss I'm such a fucking bitch," grunted Josh as he was fucked and had his hair pulled by his lover as Donald watched miserably in the corner. "Mmmmh I want MORE!"

His giant tits swung up and down as he was pounded doggy-style and Josh loved how they felt as he took dick like a champ. Swapping with his aunt was the BEST.

At his Aunt's suggestion - Josh began to fuck his friends from school - helping Aletta with her corruption goals. As he moaned and grunted in pleasure as two of his friends spit roasted his horny body and slapped his big ass, she would jerk off in the corner.

"See Nephew, doesn't it feel good to be fucking evil and powerful? Pleasure and sex are all that matters. I love seeing you become a whore just like me."

Day by day Josh's morals and priorities shifted. He was soon just as evil and corrupt as his Aunt. Whether he was fucking the increasingly slutty girls from school or taking multiple cocks from his bullying friends - he was in Heaven.

Finally the program was complete. After six weeks of swapping Josh was now a swaggering, cocky bully who loved to fuck spoiled bratty Alpha bitches and help them cheat on their pussy boyfriends. His time as his Aunt had taught him SO much.

"Thanks Auntie," he grinned. "I'm gonna miss those big tits and the feel of three men inside me, but having that slut Ashley or her friend Chloe's tight pussy on the end of my cock will make up for it."

"You're welcome Nephew," purred Aletta happy to be back in her body. "You're lucky you swapped with a real woman. I'm so glad I was able to make you into a real man."

Aletta's personal anti-patriachy program was complete and a total success... Josh was a bully now and she had only learned to be even more evil...

[yeyinde]

I’M ON FIRE  ⋮  THOMAS HEWITT | LEATHERFACE ☓ READER

sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby

edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my skull

at night i wake up with the sheets soaking wet

and a freight train running through the middle of my head

only you can cool my desire

A shudder rolls through his massive frame and it makes your heart twinge with that greedy type of want that’s never quenched no matter how many times you see his eyes widen at your open, honest affection, at the love you pour into his skin, and the way you worship his flesh. It sits heavy in your pericardium: always there, always wanting. Never satisfied no matter how much of him you consume.

(You never quite understood the meaning of hunger, of want, until you met Thomas. 

It's a good thing, then, that there's just so much of him to devour.)

⤷tw: shameless Thomas Hewitt body worship/worship in general. softcore smut. so sickeningly sweet it'll rot your teeth. ultra light breeding kink. ultra explicit size kink. gendered terminology (female gendered body parts). no substance - just smut and fluff

You trace the constellations into his worn, rough palms - Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Centaurus, Orion - and murmur to him about the universe, the sun, and stardust. 

Thomas makes no noise as you etch your fantastical stories into the white-hot skin of his palm. He listens, intently, as you speak; his burning gaze fixed on the way your mouth moves, gentle and soft, around the unfathomable cosmos that you don't, entirely, think he understands. But he likes the sounds you make - the way your lips mould around the words, and the susurrus lull of your voice as you tell him about quasars and moons and the intricate gases of the Nebula that you don't really understand much, either. You echo the words inside the books you've read and try to find your place in the limitless, infinite galaxy. A place, you know, will be just for the two of you. 

When the curve of Orion finishes and you've exhausted your knowledge of Betelgeuse, you bring his massive paw up to your lips, press a kiss in the deep divot of his fate line, and hope that somewhere along the linear curve, your name sits. That inside the harsh, rough crevasse is a world where the two of you gaze at the stars and find yourselves between Virgo and Leo, locked in an eternal embrace where nothing can hurt you and the world doesn't matter. 

(Like here: in this humid room you haven't left since mid-morning, where just the two of you exist in a little microcosm that smells like the sweat on his skin and feels like home.)

The heat of his palm almost scalds your lips.

Thomas burns as hot as the summer sun. A constant inferno that scorches you when you touch him. It burrows into your flesh, warming you from the outside in. 

It might be the lingering fever: a mid-July cold that had him bedridden for nearly a week. His immune system isn't the best, Luda Mae said. Colds take him a while to recover from. You coddled him - much to the derision of Hoyt. 

("Stop babyin' the idiot already," he snaps at you as you bring down an empty bowl of soup. "He's a man, goddammit, not a fuckin' child."

You trade off the bowl with Luda Mae for more water and blow a raspberry at him. "Aww, Charlie, are you upset that no one takes care'a you when you're sick?"

His threat is swiftly cut off by the sharp glare from Luda Mae, who then turns to you, now all soft, motherly smiles, and says, "thank you for takin' care of him."

You don't think she'd be particularly impressed to know that your version of taking care of him meant mapping out the star systems in his skin, and finding nirvana in the way he fits inside of you.)

After nearly a week in bed, tossing and turning in the throes of a fever, it finally broke. You'd spent the rest of the day helping him thoroughly sweat it out. 

The thought of it makes your cheeks flush. Makes that ache inside of you spume.

You never quite understood the meaning of hunger, of want, until you met Thomas. 

He rips open a vacuum inside of you: a festering black hole that needs and yearns - insatiable - for more. It's a constant ache that drives you delirious with the urge to consume him whole. But no matter how much you try to stem the rapacious chasm, it's never satiated, never full. 

(It's a good thing, then, that there's just so much of him to devour.)

Your lips part, tongue rolling over the line to get a taste of his molten flesh. 

Thomas smells like sin and tastes like warm milk and honey. 

A shudder rolls through his massive frame and makes your heart twinge with that greedy type of want that's never quenched no matter how many times you see his eyes widen at your open, honest affection, at the love you pour into his skin, and the way you worship his flesh. It sits heavy in your pericardium: always there, always wanting. Never satisfied no matter how much of him you consume. 

Your thirst for his taste is unending. 

His other hand flexes on his thigh. A nervous, fretting tick when the kittenish way you lap at his palm becomes too much. The movement draws your eyes to the bulk of his legs which are almost as big as the trucks on the Magnolia trees down the road. Your mouth runs dry at the sight. 

It's easy to worship him, you think. Easy to press offerings into his flesh, and sings hymns into the soft, plush give of his stomach. 

"Thomas…" you whisper his name softly into the humid summer night, tone drenched in that voracious need that never really goes away. 

The sound of his name spilling from your lips makes him flinch,  a low whine rolls up his throat, muffled by the pursed press of his lips. You like the sounds he makes. The grunts and the whimpers. The groans and the huffs of breath into your neck when you sit in his big lap and whisper praise into his ear. 

You'd spent most of the day with him nestled in bed with you. He rutted inside of you over and over again until you were filled to the brim with him - his scent, his sweat on your body - and even now, hours later, you're still hungry. You can't get enough of him. Parched for his touch. His taste. 

You bring both hands up to cup his wrist, tugging him gently toward you. 

He makes another noise in the back of his throat. A wanting trill that burrows into your chest and sends liquid heat to your abdomen. 

There is an almost needy haze in his eyes when you meet his gaze. If you're not careful, you think you can easily get lost in the endless cyanic that stares up at you, soft, pleading, irises almost entirely eclipsed by his widening pupils. The fathomless black of the cosmos has nothing on the endless pools of cerulean in front of you. 

"C'mon…" you say, and he goes, willing. Eager. He rocks up on his knees, his frame easily towering over you. Large. Indomitable. He eclipses you entirely, blocking out the soft light from the candle flickering on the bedside table. 

Kneeling over you like this, he looks every bit of a Cimmerian god meant to be revered, admired. The messy curls on his head, moussed from the sweat of the summer swelter and his lingering fever, and the many times your fingers threaded through the locks, falls over his forehead when he bows his head and stares at you underneath him. 

And you, as always, stare back.

It makes him twitch; embarrassment, and shame prickle across his expression. His chin quivers, turning slightly away from the open way you swallow him whole with your look. You tut softly, a gentle warning that no, that's not allowed here, in this space made just for the two of you. 

Thomas frets under your admonishment; the hand still in your hold shakes, and you're quick to soothe his worry with a wet kiss to his thundering pulse. You suckle the thrumming vein until another mark sits on his flesh. By the end of the night, when the moon is nigh in the aether and the ocherous smear of the hazy coruscating sun breaches the inky black above you, his whole body will be a mosaic of your reverence. A testament to your devotion. 

(The thought thrills you. You love seeing your mark pressed into his sunkissed flesh: a red map of Orion across his chest and Cassiopeia over his shoulder.)

When he quiets, when his shoulders ease from the coiled, self-conscious hunch that makes him feel like he's smaller than what he is, what he ever could be, you offer him a small, reassuring smile. He huffs at the sight of it, his broad chest deflating with the deep exhale. Relaxing above you at the wordless praise in the tilt of your mouth. 

It amazes you just how much self-doubt lingers in the broad vastitude of his neverending bulk, but you're determined to wash it all away with each nip you scour into his body. Slowly, slowly, because the last thing you ever want is to make him nervous, scared. 

But that doesn't matter with Thomas. The trust in his gaze shines as true and effortless as the love and affection in the abyss of blue that tugs at your heart each time you look over at him and find that mushy, misty-eyed look in his expression. It steals your breath away each time. A paradox that you can't even begin to unravel.

He's so massive. So big. An unstoppable force. But he gives you so much power. He lays everything in your hands, as gently as possible, and looks at you like you're responsible for the smattering of stars that gleam across the astronomical cosmos.

Thomas looks at you sometimes, and the weight of his gaze makes you feel like the most powerful being in the universe. It's an odd little juxtaposition coming from a man who looks like the personification of Hercules. A sentient mountain.

He tugs out his heart, such a precious treasure, and hands it to you for safekeeping next to your own, where they beat congruent. 

"You're perfect," you say, a little drunk on the dazed way he makes you feel. The power he gives you. 

His breath catches in his throat at your unexpected words, chin ducking bashfully to his broad chest. A man this enormous shouldn't be as cute as he is, as endearing. It jars into you, and makes your stomach flutter when you catch sight of the red staining his ears, his cheeks. 

Your eyes greedily follow the rufescent plume that snakes down his throat, his chest. 

It gleams with his sweat. With red smears from your nips and kisses on his skin. The thick bed of hair hides most of your work, but his nipples - reddened from your mouth - peek out from the blanket of tight curls across his upper chest. Your gaze follows the trail. The hair dissipates over the curve of his stomach. His belly hangs, paler than the rest of his body, and partially concealing the flushed cock between his legs that twitches under your appraisal, your wanting stare. 

Thomas is big - everywhere - and you ache with the reminder of the way he stretches you, stuffs you full of him until you're clinging to the precarious precipice of that inexorable pleasure-pain that lacerates up your spine. He fills you in a way that knocks the air from your lungs. That makes you keen into the sheets. 

But despite his sheer size, he's so, so gentle with you. 

He doesn't fill you up entirely - always so worried about hurting you - no matter how much you asked him for it. During the last several couplings, he fisted his hand around the base of his cock, and slowly rocked into you, not giving you the entire length of him, not pushing in too deep. It was good - so good - like it always is, and even with half his length inside of you, the girth alone steals the air from your lungs; but this time, you're determined to get all of him.

All of what he has to offer. You want him to devour you whole. To swallow you up in his heat, his touch, his caress. You want to fuse your limbs together until you can't find the space that separates you anymore. A tangled web of sweat-slicked skin and that haze of pleasure that makes you feel drunk on the sensations he wrought from your body. 

The thought alone makes your heart hammer in your chest, and your gaze waver. Your misty eyes slide down to the thick, hairy thighs that kneel between your legs. You want to touch him. To grasp at the flesh there as he pounds into you. 

It's been so sweet thus far. So soft. So gentle. And now you want him to mess you up. You want Thomas to take whatever he wants from your willing body. Take what he needs. 

(To give you what you need.)

Your eyes roam his body again - greedily, appreciative, wanting - and you hear the hitch in his breath. His cock twitches; a bead of pre-cum dribbling out of his engorged, flushed head. 

"Please…" you whimper, and his whole frame trembles once again. The rattle of an earthquake. The bed shakes with him.  

His hand drops to the pillow behind you, and you immediately follow, lowering yourself down, matching his pace until your head rests against the bed; Thomas bracketing you from above. He stretches out, yawning over you like the infinitely dark cosmos; a Stygian King. You see Orion in his eyes. Map Cassiopeia in the dusting of birthmarks and blemishes that line his thick face. You see forever in the way he stares back at you. 

Your thighs spread as far as you can manage - wanting him, needing him closer - but it's still not enough. He's too big. You're too small. But somehow, he feels like a perfect fit. The drag of his tummy settling over yours makes you mewl; the weight of it, of his body on top of you, makes you pant and gasp into the balmy air. 

You whisper more praise into his ear when he finally rests on top of you - right where he belongs - and pull his hand down until it lays on your breast, a wordless plea for more. He shudders above you when your hardened nipple catches the rough skin of his palm, a callous making your thighs squeeze his sides, and he quickly kneads the flesh you offered him. 

The soft give of his body feels good. You reach up and trace the stretch marks covering his belly and chest, cooing softly when he whimpers. He doesn't cover himself up as much as he used to. You've kissed every silvery line on his body. Every scar and dimple. Thomas knows you love every part of him - even the ones he tries to hide. He knows you want him. Need him. He knows because you tell him so every day. Your lips kiss prayers into his flesh until he's a quivering, whining mess. Until his ears burn red and his chest is flushed the perfect hue of roseate that makes your mouth water. 

"Want you…" you murmur into his shoulder, flicking your tongue out to lick across a small stretch mark that dips into his underarm. The rough scratch of his hair feels good against your tongue. 

His hips buck into you, his belly ripping against yours with the sharp movement. His thighs drag across the delicate skin on the inside of your legs, and the rasp of his coarse hair rubbing against the soft, sensitive flesh makes you gasp into his shoulder. His cock - tacky from the slowly drying mess of being inside of you for most of the day and white-hot to the touch - slides so deliciously over your mons and lower stomach, that you can help but to cant your hips up in response, eagerly seeking more of him. More of his touch. 

Fuck, you can't get enough of him.

"Please, Thomas…" it's all he needs to hear, but it's not enough for you. The adulations slip from your lips until he's quivering above you, your lower belly covered in the messy smear of his excitement. His cheeks are stained sunburn red and you push to make them blister. "Please, I want you so bad-"

His hand pulls away from your breast, reaching down to take hold of his cock. Your breath stutters in your chest when the head drags between your folds, pressing against your aching pussy. You're so wet. So messy from his cum. He's filled you so many times today. Your hand slips below the flesh of his belly, pressing against your naval where you can almost feel a little budge. 

"You filled me up so much today, Thomas," you pant into his shoulder, nuzzling your lips into his skin. He trembles above you, letting out a deep whine. His cock rubs through the mess still spilling out of you, jerking sharply at your words. "You wanna gimme more, baby?" 

He keens, his head dropping down to your neck as he ruts into you, desperate and wanting. He likes it. Likes filling you up. Making you messy with his cum. Likes watching it slowly drip out of you just so he can push it back inside after. 

Thomas isn't normally so open, so honest, about his desires. He hides it as if it was something to be ashamed of. But with the sickness still clouding his mind, spooling over his inhibition, he lets it out. Let's you see the things inside his head he covers up, that he pushes aside. 

You like it a lot more than you thought you would. The warmth deep inside of you when he cums, head tossed back in euphoria, mouth open as he groans, whines, deep in his chest. The sloppy way he thrusts inside of you with his release, as if he can't help himself, as if he can't get enough of you. 

The glossy sheen of his eyes when he drops to his elbows, burying his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling your skin after he finishes makes your heart thrum with contentment, and affection; both so visceral, they bludgeon into you like a club. 

You wiggle your hips, unable to stop the molten ache billowing inside of you at the prospect of having Thomas fill you so deeply once more.  

"Please, Thomas," you whisper again, splaying yourself under him like an offering. "Please-"

He's there before the next plea finishes rolling off of your tongue. The scalding press of his cock inside of you has the cosmos flashing across your eyes. Phosphenes dance behind your eyelids when you squeeze them shut against the delicious ache, the burning stretch, of him splitting you open, carving out a place inside of you meant just for him. It's good - too good - and you can't stop the hiccuping whines from tumbling past your parted lips, a mindless chant of his name, and more, more, more.

Your legs slide over his, curling as much as you can over his broad back, and you push your heel into the rounded softness of his ass, forcing him deeper.

He whimpers. His hand fumbles. You reach out, fingers curling around his elbow, tugging his hand up. 

"All of you, Thomas," you gasp into his ear, pleading and wanting. A needy keen wells up in the back of your throat. "All of you - I want all of you."

And Thomas -

He can never say no to you when you beg him so prettily.

He breaks, and the way he crumbles has you seeing stars when he fills you so deeply. Pushing in until he can't anymore, until his hips are flush against you, and his cock is burrowing past the limits of what you can take, of what you can handle. It's so hot. The searing heat, the ache, jars into you like a sledgehammer, and you whimper at the too-full feeling of him stretching you. He brushes against a spot that makes you keen, that makes you feel that intense whiplash pleasure as it ricochets down your spine, pooling liquid bliss in your belly. 

You're pinned under his sheer bulk, but you can't help the way you shudder and arch into him. It's good, too good, and the pleasure lacerates through your core as he ruts into that tightly winding coil deep inside of you that spumes with molten ecstasy. 

You chant his name into stifling air, breathless and quaking from the undulated pleasure he brings you; the way his body moulds over your frame has you mewling, and panting at the smoulder of his suffocating heat. 

It's dizzying. Intense. The inferno of his heavy body nearly smothers you. You tip your head back before hypoxia settles in. Black smears moult across your vision when he moves, when he pulls back, the thick drag of him inside of you makes your toes curl in bliss. 

Thomas' thrusts are messy. Unpractised despite the numerous times he's fucked into your willing body. It's cute. Endearing. The eager, desperate way he pushes into you makes your head heavy with a pleasured slurry of endorphins and dopamine. 

"You feel so good-," he moans at the sincerity in your slurred words, and bucks into with a deep cry. The force of it sends you reeling. It makes your head feel gummy with that gossamer of euphoria that grips you tight when he makes noises like that. "Oh, god, Thomas-"

You pull your hand out from under his body, dropping it down to grip his plush hip, the flesh bulging between your spread fingers. It dredges up another squall from his chest, and he rocks forward, his head pressing down into the crook of your neck. His breath is hot on your skin. His hair tickles your cheek. Your other hand slips into the messy locks, nails scraping over his scalp in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, hips jerking into you - fast, hard. The force of it has you wailing his name, and your body tensing with the sudden pulsating pleasure gnashing inside your abdomen. 

You're close, you think, deliriously careening toward that precipice of pure nirvana only he can bring you to. 

His thrusts are sloppier. Sluggish. You can see the fatigue drenching his brow under the rivets of sweat that pour down his hairline. You lost count of how many times he's been inside of you today; how many times he held you down and fucked you until you cried into the sheets with his name turning into a hymn on your tongue. Your skin is soaked with him - his metallic, ozone scent, the slickness of his sweat, his saliva - but you want more. 

You're always wanting. Always hungry. He makes you feel ravenous; a need so deep, so infinite, that it's never satisfied, never quenched. You're always yearning for more. 

You're drunk on the taste of him. Addicted to the way his flesh feels under your palms. You breathe rapture into his pores and sing about your eternal devotion to him. Thomas shivers under the intense way you eulogise your matins in his name. 

The slick sound of him rutting into you sends jolts of pleasure to your core. 

You pull him deep, holding him tight to your smouldering body as he rocks inside of you, grunting in your ear. With the raspy way he whimpers, the hitch in his breath when you shift your hips to take him as deep as you can, you know he won't last much longer. 

Your paean turns into a breathless miserere in his ear, one that makes his chest reverberate with a deep grunt in response to the pleading way you prose your love for him. His hips stutter into yours with fevered desperation. The frenetic way his cock pistons into your oversensitive body makes your chorale turn into a nonsensical babble of choking whines and hysterical moans. You rasp out his name - a fervid plea as hedonism congeals inside your marrow, making you cant your hips into his as he sends you toward that rapturous edge.

Each jarring thrust spools an incandescent heat in your lower belly, where the blunt head of his cock slams into the soft, spongy wall that has you burning with bliss, and bucking into the molten feeling that gnashes into the base of your spine. It coils tighter and tighter inside of you until Thomas drops to his elbows above you, the force of his body resting on yours, lax with his exhaustion and out of his mind with pleasure, sends the scant vapours in your lungs rushing out as his weight descends on you, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he batters into you. 

You can't breathe. You choke in greedily lungfuls of air to sate your oxygen-starved mind as each plunge Thomas makes into you wrenches it out. 

All you can do is take it as he gorges himself with your body and renders you into a mindless, mewling mess under his bulk. 

You can't get enough of this. Your fingers dig into his sweat-slicked skin, wanting him closer despite the ache in your lungs and white-hot lashes of pleasured pain that chisels into you. It's so good, so good, so -

Your toes curl, muscles spasming with the electrifying force of the release Thomas dragoons out of you. 

His name is wrenched from your throat, and you cling to him as your vision whites out under the deluge of pleasure. 

Each thrust cudgels into you. In the kaleidoscope haze of phosphenes, you see Orion in the milky gossamer. The fulgent prisms erupt into static before shuddering out of existence where the effulgent face of Thomas swims in front of you. The look on his florid face when he cums clots behind your ribcage where it sits just as heavy as his body over yours. It's that coalescence of feverish delirium and the sfumato of delectation that percolates into your pounding heart, making it swell from the sheer elation he brings you. 

You can feel his hips stuttering as he rides out the last throes of his orgasmic haze, spilling liquid embers into your body. His body quivers under your hand. You scratch at his crown with your nails when he blubbers into your neck, mewling at the oversensitive feeling of your walls, molten and drenched with his release, clinging to his spent cock. 

You might have pushed him beyond his mettle tonight. There is a stab of guilt in your pericardium as he slumps into your embrace, quaking with the aftershocks of your greed and gluttonous insatiability, but it's gone when you feel his humid pants into your neck, the blunt press of his teeth to your skin. 

You coo softly to him as he trembles over you, your hands petting the body you so thoroughly worshipped today to ease the strain in his quivering muscles. 

When he lifts his head, you slide your palm to the base of his neck and kiss the nasolabial space between the decayed remnants of his nose and his cheek. He flinches, shying away from the soft kiss. He tries to hide his face from your view, shoulders trembling under the nervous thrum of shame, shyness, and embarrassment. You hate the look in his eyes - the ghost of self-abasement that sets your teeth on edge and makes your heart prickle with agony. 

"Don't be so mean to the love of my life," you murmur softly, tracing Orion into his shoulder. 

Thomas jerks his head up at your words, eyes widening. You hate the shock in his expression whenever you confess your love to him - like he doesn't think he deserves it. It makes your stomach churn with sorrow. How could this man not see how much you want him? How much you adore him? 

"Yes, silly," you pepper more kisses over his face, smiling at the flush you can feel scalding your mouth. "I mean you."

Thomas nuzzles into your affection like he's starving for it, and you're determined to make him surfeit by the end of the night. 

It's when you stretch your legs out that he shakes from his exhausted revere, jerking back with noises of distress and worry spilling from lips in a rapid cacophony of sorrow and concern. Thomas pulls himself up, looking over at you with contrition bunching up in his brow. 

"It's okay," you soothe him and try to hide the way you greedily suck in deep breaths without the pressure on your chest stemming the flow. "I'm fine."

He doesn't believe you. Compunction pinches the corners of his mouth. 

"Thomas," you whisper, but he rises to his knees and drops his head into his hands, shoulder shaking. "Tommy, baby-," you sit up, wincing at the ache inside of you, the tacky mess between your thighs, and reach up to grasp at his wrists. Your thumb and forefinger never meet. There's a width of space the size of your own wrist between them. 

You can't say that the sight of it, the sheer vastitude between the difference in your sizes, doesn't make you pant. 

"Tommy," the breathless tenor of your voice makes him look up, and you grin at him. "Baby, I love when you crush me-"

It's the wrong thing to say. He squalls deep in his throat. Morose shutters over his expression. He tries to cover his face up again, but you squeeze your hands. 

"Baby, baby… I'm sorry," you say, not at all apologetic for the words, per se, but certainly the timing. "I love your body, Thomas. I love the way you feel on top of me. I can't get enough of it." 

His whimpers begin to quiet, but the rueful look in his eyes doesn't lapse. 

You huff and slowly clamber to your knees in front of him. He watches you, body coiled like a whip -as if he is waiting for punishment. 

You draw his hands close to you, and pepper kisses all over his palms, his fingers, his knuckles, his dorsal, his wrist. 

"I love your big hands and the way they hold me so tight…" you glance up at him, watching him as you slowly lap at his pulse. "I know you'd never hurt me, Thomas. You're so gentle. So kind." His breath stutters in his chest when you nuzzle along his arm, your lips tickling the sensitive flesh in the crook of his elbow. 

It seems you aren't finished with your quixotic hymns. The look on his face spurns you on, makes your chest froth with liquid affection, adoration. 

"I love your arms, you know that. I love when you wrap them around me and hold me close. I love the way they swallow me up," you huff out a small blissful laugh. "You're so big, baby - god - it's amazing. I feel so small next to you." 

You press your head into his chest, breathing in the heady scent of sex and ozone that clings to him, letting it fill your senses. It makes you dizzy. Makes your head feel mushy with contentment. You slide your face up until just your chin rests against his sternum.

The open, raw, look in his eyes makes you keen low in your throat. 

"You're so big, and I feel so safe in your arms, Thomas. So protected. You'd never intentionally hurt me, right?"

Noises of distress immediately pour from his lips as his head quickly jerks to the side in an emphatic refusal. 

"I know you wouldn't," you dip your head down, pressing a kiss over his heart, feeling the rapid pulse beating under your lips. "I trust you more than anyone in the whole world." 

Thomas shivers. His body wracks with tremors under the sincerity, the bluntness of your words. 

Your hands drop down from his wrists, sliding over the smooth curve of his belly. He flinches, blushing scarlet at the way your nails scratch through the coarse smattering of hair you find. 

"I love your belly," you drop down, following the path your fingers took with gentle kisses to his flesh. His belly quivers. Your lips sink into the plump skin. "Fuck… I really love it. Love how soft it is compared to the rest of you. You're so bulky. So hard, strong… But here-," you nuzzle your nose into his luscious skin, words laced thick with an amatory drawl. "You're so comfy." 

Your gaze drops to the soft cock now hidden behind the bulge of his stomach, and your grin turns wicked, eyes burning with desire. You can feel him give a small twitch when your hands brush over his mons, fingers playing with the thick bed of coarse curls. 

"And you know how much I love your-," his whine cuts you off, and you chuckle in response. He's overstimulated. You've worn him out today. You slide your hands down, resting the flat of your palm over his legs. His skin scalds you. The smear of hair tickles your skin. "-Thighs," you finish with a wink. 

Thomas huffs above you, the flush deepening as it spreads over his chest. You can tell he's growing restless under your arduous exploits in making him acutely, pointedly, aware of just how much you love his body and how good he makes you feel. 

His belly ripples when you pull away from him, and the sight makes your mouth quiver. Your hands snake around his thighs, squeezing the generous globes of flesh you find when you reach up and grab his ass. He squawks, flinching when you do. It pushes his belly into your face, and press one last kiss to the tumid flesh offered to you before you pull away. 

Mournfully, you release your grip on his succulent flesh, and slide your hands up his back, feeling the taut ripple of his muscles under your palms. He's so brawny. So stalwart. You love the contrast of his soft belly and the hard, burly planes of shoulder blades and thick thighs. 

Your arms loop around the nape of his neck as you press your body firmly into his. The hefty bulk of his body fills you with an intense concupiscence. The way his bare skin moulds to yours has you seeing Antares behind your eyelids. 

"I love every part of you," you murmur into his chest, words breathless and heavy with desire. 

Even on your knees, your head barely brushes past his sternum. It's supposed to be a tender, loving moment, so you pretend the absurd girth of him, the length, doesn't make your mouth water. Doesn't whet your appetite. 

After a whole day of rolling around in the sheets, you still want more. 

"Every single inch." You punctuate your words with a kiss. A smile. 

Nervously, he returns it. It's just a quake of his mouth to the side. A crooked, lopsided grin. But it sends a thrill down your spine. 

"I love you." 

He bleats in response, eyes lidded and heavy with fatigue. He's still on the mend. You can hear the residual sickness in his voice, feel it in the humidity clinging to his rubicund skin. 

"Let's get you to bed, now, yeah?" 

He nods, eager, sluggish, and his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you close to his body before he leans down, his other hand balancing on the mattress. Thomas lays on his side, pulling you down with him, before rolling onto his back, arm opening wide, beckoning you forward. 

You smile down at him, the mushy thrum of affection swelling inside once more, and clamber into your space on his chest.

Thomas pulls you close, tucking you in to the folds of his side where you fit like a puzzle and he feels like home. You lean up, brushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead, and press one last latria to his skin, murmuring your devotion into his flesh.  

When you lay on his chest, his heartbeat marches in tandem with your own, dragging out another smile that tugs on your lips. Thomas nuzzles your crown, cooing wordless adherence into your hair. He kisses your crown, and a sappy, soporific haze shudders over you; somnolence seeps into your marrow when his arm drapes over your shoulders, locking you to his side in an unyielding hold. 

You settle into his embrace, tracing constellations into his kiss-bruised chest. He fits around you like a Magellanic cloud, and you think you'll never be satisfied when he reels you into his gravity without evening knowing the magnitude of his pull. Thomas is the sun, and you're a tidally locked planet on a rapid spiral from which there is no escape. As he pulls you closer, you contemplate the benison of this perigee and find solace in the fact that your name must be etched into his fate line because you don't think the way his flesh burns into your skin could ever be happenstance. There is no fortuity in the way you fit beside him, and how much he smells like home. 

You belong to him, and if there is no place for you by his side, then you'll rip apart the cosmos until you can find a microcosm meant just for the two of you, nestled somewhere in the middle of Virgo and Leo, in between the infinite everything that threatens to consume you. You'll shred the Nebula apart to be near him because Thomas brings out this need, this want, that spumes inside of you like an unfathomable chasm, and without the taste of his piquant flesh on your tongue, or the heft of body on yours, you might just starve. 

(And if it is a coincidence, well - you'll carve your own kismet into his skin just like you etched Orion into his palm.)

[hey-kae]

First of all, my favorite blog is yours. And since I don't know English, I get help from the translation. There will be a lot of mistakes in this article, I'm very sorry.*Well why don't you write a author reader and charles leclerc? Drabble, headcanons or imagine, if you do, you will be the first blog to do so. Think about it, Charles always wants to read the reader's writings. He always goes to autographs with him, he goes to all the races of reader Charles. I'm sure it will be great.*

Support System

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x author!female reader

Warnings: Nothing, just pure fluff. Maybe one mention of not eating properly bcs of lack of time but that’s it.

a/n: i personally love this but i believe i’ve seen people write about reader being an author before? I’m so flattered that my blog is your favorite and please don’t worry about the english!! I’m not a native speaker either!

Sleepless nights, random naps throughout the day, cups upon cups of coffee and energy drinks, the clicking of the keyboard and Charles' soft but nagging voice.

That is what your days have been looking like recently.

With the deadline of your next book coming up, the pressure was getting worse and the time was flying by. Every day without exception, you lodged yourself in front of your laptop from the minute your eyes fluttered open, your fingers typing away on the keyboard, only stopping when you'd run out of words, or when Charles would barge into the room, whining about being bored like he was currently doing.

"Baby..." he came up to you, dragging his feet while looking ultra cuddly, dressed in loose sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, "You're not gonna take a break?"

Meanwhile, your eyes didn't move from the screen at all, not wanting to stop the word flow that occurs only occasionally.

"In a little, mon amour." You hastily replied, feeling slightly guilty for not spending his rare free time with him.

Charles groaned and took a seat on the small couch facing your desk, pulling his phone out of his pocket and busying himself on it for what seemed, to him at least, like hours.

However, it was only thirty minutes later when you clicked "save changes" and leaned back in your chair, sighing in exhaustion, efficiently catching Charles' attention.

His eyes watched as you got up and stretched your aching muscles after having been sat in the same position for far too long, the pull feeling like your body was being reawakened. A wide smile made its way to his face when he realized you were heading his way and he immediately put away his phone, opened up his arms for you, making you smile as you squeezed beside him on the couch, nuzzling your head into his chest and feeling his arms wrap around you and pull you closer.

"How is it going?" He asked and planted a kiss onto your forehead.

You closed your eyes at the comfort of being in his embrace, your own arms wrapping around his waist.

"Well, it's definitely going." You chuckled.

"Quand dois tu le finir? Debut de la semaine prochaine?" When do you have to finish it? Beginning of next week?Charles knew you were stressed just as much as you were exhausted. He had been noticing how tense your body felt against his so, in a caring gesture, while he waited for your reply, his hands slipped onto into the back of your sweatshirt, tracing calming patterns and softly massaging your back, causing you to groan as you answered him with a small "Oui".

"You've been working so much, baby."

"I know, chéri. I'm sorry, I've been barely giving you any time but I'm almost done with it."

Sure, Charles wasn't exactly happy with the lack of attention he's been getting but that was nowhere near the biggest of his worries. He, out of all people, knew how work can sometimes get in the way of personal relationships for a while but his main concern was that you were overworking yourself.

"Oh, non! It's not about that. I understand, actually but I'm just worried about you. You're barely sleeping at night, barely eating, barely seeing anyone. You haven't left the apartment in over a week and a half."

As his words and worried tone sank in, you looked up at him with a smile, your eyes starting to burn with sleepiness, the lack of sleep getting to you now that you weren't forcing your brain to focus.

"You're the sweetest, you know?" You kissed his cheek and watched him blush and smile at you before one of his hands hooked under your chin and he brought your face up for a kiss that reminded you its been days since you've kissed him for longer than just a peck.

"I just love you, chérie." He spoke and resumed kissing you for a few seconds, his hand still running up and down your back, feeling you relax under his loving touch.

It was amazing how quickly he could calm you down when you were anxious, how easily he could get you to relax when you were stressed and just how effortlessly you could fall asleep in his arms even if you were struggling with a million hectic and loud thought.

He pulled away from the kiss, watching the way your eyes were fighting to stay open while you looked at him in a way that he found utterly adorable.

"Come here." He got you to lay your head on his chest and gently started combing his fingers through your hair, all while smiling widely.

"How much did you sleep last night?"

"I don't know. I think... two hours? I'm not sure." You mumbled, clutching onto him tightly.

"Baby! T'es sérieuse? Deux heures seulement?" Are you serious? Just two hours? "You've been awake for how long?" He scolded, purely out of concern.

"Far too long." You chuckled, rubbing at your burning eyes with your palms just as a yawn interrupted the conversation.

Charles made disapproving sounds before abruptly standing up and lifting you into his arms, the sudden action startling you out of your half asleep state that you were rather enjoying.

"Charles!" You squealed, you arms immediately wrapping around his neck as a reflex, "What are you doing?"

"You're gonna take a nap, mon amour." He pecked your lips before walking to the door, pulling it open with his foot and heading to the bedroom, the lack of complaints from you further proving his suspicion that you were in fact working too hard.

Once he set you onto bed, covering you with the soft duvet and planting a kiss onto your temple, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him under the sheets with you, scooting over so he could comfortably fit.

"You didn't think you were leaving me alone, did you?" You snuggled closer to him, shielding your sight from the light of the day by cuddling up to his chest while you felt his arms around you.

"I would never." He chuckled, resting his head on top of yours and not saying anything else, just letting you sleep and get the rest you so desperately needed while keeping you safe and warm in his hold.

When you woke up a few hours later, you found Charles still right by your side, this time with your laptop on his lap as he sat cross-legged on the bed, looking rather immersed into whatever it is that he was doing.

"Why's my laptop here?" You smiled at the way he was startled by the unexpected interruption.

"Um, i wanted to read the book." He sheepishly replied, giving you an awkward grin while you stretched your arms over your head.

"Baby... There's still a few chapters left to write. And you promised you would only read it when i would give you a printed copy."

Charles shrugged, "I just wanted to see what's been stealing my girl from me."

"Mhm. How did you find it?"

"Up to where i got, it's amazing. I couldn't even comprehend how the person who wrote it is the same one that texts me nonsense all the time." He joked with a proud smile.

You chucked a pillow at his head despite having giggled a bit.

"Now, the important stuff. Happily ever after? Est-ce qu'ils auront leur heureuse fin?" Are they gonna get their happy ending? He asked with his eyebrows raised in question.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see." You teased before grabbing your laptop and immediately going back to writing.

A few months later, the book that was finished in sleepless nights and exhausting days was finally published and was out for the world to read. It was getting extremely positive reaction, quickly becoming an incredibly popular bestseller. You had been doing book signings in multiple stores and bookstores that carried you works and Charles, being the supportive and incredibly curious boyfriend he was, was accompanying you to every single signing that he could, repeatedly bringing you water, snacks and new pens through the sessions with your fans, sometimes stealing a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing again for a few minutes.

A fan who didn't knew who he was mistook him for your assistant because of how much he was helping you, occasionally pulling a chair, sitting beside you and opening the books you had to sign onto their first pages so he could help you save time and work more efficiently.

Fans who knew who he was, or at least knew he was your boyfriend, were in complete awe of your relationship, fascinated with things as simple as the way the two of you looked at each other, the room seeming empty for a few seconds when your eyes would lock with his.

You were currently at a book signing and Charles had disappeared about half an hour ago so you were expecting he'd make an appearance any minute now.

You didn't let that distract you.

You gave your fans your full attention, engaging with them in small talk as you signed their copies of your books, the buzz of people in the room becoming louder by the second.

"Have a good day!" You greeted one of the fans goodbye.

"Thank you!" Her excited voice spoke back to you before she disappeared into the crowd, another book quickly being pushed in front of you before you could even look up at the next person and greet them hello.

"Can i get a dedication, please? I'm your biggest fan!" The voice was slightly changed on purpose but you could recognize it anywhere.

You looked up at Charles with an amused look, grabbing back your pen and going with the game he was pulling.

"Really? Sure, what's your name?" You asked, your eyes only on Charles failing to notice the phone cameras pointed at you.

"Charles Leclerc." He sheepishly smiled.

"Cute name." You chuckled as you scribbled onto his copy, as if he didn't already have multiple versions of the book at home.

As your pen glided across the paper, you figured that you might as well make it a proper dedication.

You leaned back in your chair, supporting the book on the edge of the desk, hiding the page away from Charles.

To Charles, my one and only, my saving grace,

Thank you so much for the endless support and empowerment you strengthen me with, especially when i'm writing these books.

Je t'aime aujourd'hui et je t'aimerais pour toujours, chéri.

I love you today and i will love you forever, darling.

With a smile, you closed the book, and handed it to Charles, ushering for him to move out of line since he was taking time from fans who didn't get to see you almost every day. Smiling back at you, he disappeared again.

"The two of you are adorable. You keep raising my standards, with both your books and your relationship." The next person in line said and you blushed as you started signing the book.

"I'm very lucky to have found him, i'm not gonna lie." You replied, your cheeks burning even hotter as the words left your mouth with a giggle.

Several hours later, once your hand had started aching, the signing was over and you met Charles by his car outside, strolling towards him as he leaned against the vehicle with a big smile, ready to just he cuddled to sleep by him the minute you got home like always.

"There's my favorite writer!" He instantly hugged you and took away the small bag you had with you, shrugging it over his shoulder instead.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted." You groaned, "I need like... a huge meal and and an even bigger cup of coffee." You detached from the hug and reached for the door handle.

"Chérie, didn't we agree to cut on caffeine a bit? Ton cœur te déteste, j'en suis sûre." Your heart hates you, I'm sure of it. He reminded you of the promise you made him a while ago while he watched you get into the passenger seat.

"Yeah but it loves you so..." you shrugged with a smile that he involuntarily returned with an eye roll before he circled the car and got behind the steering wheel, pulling onto the street almost immediately.

"So... I met my biggest fan today!" You teased, watching him intently as he drove, the movements of his muscles and his hands never failing to capture your attention.

"Ah, vraiment?" Oh, really? He smirked, turning the left blinkers on as his eyes scanned the mirrors before taking the turn.

"Yeah. His name was - i can't remember exactly - something along the line of Chase, Chuck... I can't remember."

"I think it was Charles. He loved the dedication and read it so much, he memorized it, even the way the letters are written."

You could see the slight blush tint his cheeks, his face delightfully decorated with a bright, dimply smile.

"Good thing he loved it, 'cause i only write things i mean in these cases."

"I loved it so much, baby, so much but somehow, je t'aime même plus." ...I love you even more. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, delivering a kiss onto your skin to try to satisfy the need to kiss you, that option impossible as he drove.

"I love you too, Charles."

The next morning, Charles had to catch an early flight to the next race. You knew that, his schedule imprinted in your head like it was yours and sometimes, it was.

A few days ago, he lightly tried suggesting that you should come along with him, not pushing it since he knew you needed to rest. You had told him you'd think about it and the subject was never brought up again, Charles assuming that was you way of letting him down slowly.

But last night, while Charles was singing his heart out in the shower, you packed a small suitcase and hid it under the bed, preparing an outfit for the flight as well, planning to surprise him in the morning.

So, in the early hours of the morning, when you heard Charles' alarm go off, triggering a stream of French curse words from your boyfriend, you continued pretending to be asleep, even when he he squeezed you to his side for a moment and kissed your forehead softly, until you felt him shuffle out of bed and stumble with what sounded like half balance to the bathroom.

That's when you sprung onto you feet, quickly getting rid of your pajamas and pulling on the leggings and sweatshirt you prepared along with some comfortable shoes. Then, you grabbed your small purse and dragged the suitcase from under the bed, setting it in the middle of the room and seating yourself on it just as the lock of the bathroom door was undone.

With your arms raised, you beamed, "Guess who's coming along?!"

Charles, who had walked back into the room with his eyesight on the bed where he expected to see your sleeping figure, was startled by your cheery tone and the fact that you were awake, let alone fully dressed.

"What the fuck?" He rubbed at his sleepy eyes, a small smile making its way to his confused face, "Tu me blague ou quoi?" You're kidding me or what?

"Bold of you to assume I'd lose sleep for a joke." You teased, getting up and moving towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss, the taste of toothpaste strong on his lips still.

"Now, get dressed. We're gonna be late for our flight." You smiled and headed for the bathroom to wash your face and brush your own teeth but before you could, a much more energetic Charles trapped you in a hug from behind, his hand grabbing your face while he planted a big kiss onto your cheek.

"I fucking love you so much, you know?" He beamed and let you go, watching as you walked away giggling.

The race weekend went amazingly, even better than usual, in Charles' opinion, because you were there with him for it all.

Charles was an insanely supportive boyfriend. The support he backed you with was surreal and it made you want to be there with him during every race possible. The two of you thrived off supporting one another, being each other's support system and not being afraid to show it.

He loved going to book signing and releases with you and you loved attending his races and no matter what the public had to say about that, you'd always be there for each other, through best seller books or ones that barely sold any copies, through wins or podiums and DNFs or strategy disasters.

At the end, you were all that mattered to him and he was all that mattered to you. Charles made that clear to any observing eyes when he wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug as he made his way to the podium that weekend, your eyes teary with pride, not caring that you were being watched.

Sure, you were a writer but no happily-ever-after you had ever written, or even read, would ever compare to the feeling of loving Charles and being loved by him.

He was the "happily" in all of your happily ever afters.

[unnervinglyferal]

One of the most uncomfortable things my brain has done has been getting attached to Mary. Like, Mary as in Mary the mother of Jesus. Not surprising but awkward for sure.

Mary is a big deal for mexicans. Regardless of anything, she is very important to our culture. Even the most brutal cartel or gang members will lower their heads and cross themselves in humility to the holy image of her. Taxi drivers hang rosaries (long bead artifacts with an amazing amount of technical specifications behind them that are meant to guide prayers towards Mary) on their mirrors to feel protection, and it's not badly viewed for people to wear rosaries as collars either. She's on the murals. She was our first ever flag. There's even one very very specific holiday we have for her, can't say I've ever celebrated it, but here in the small town where I live, people light fireworks everywhere and it's this big ass loud and happy celebration. Originally brought by colonizers to replace the goddess Tonantzin, the image of a brown skinned Mother Mary has become a symbol of and for our people. Hell, half of our fucking female population is called Maria Guadalupe (Lupe, for short) after her local name –Santa María Guadalupe. Don't even get me started on the advocations of the Virgin Mary, because theres like, A WHOLE ass different lore for that. Over here we have one called La Virgen del Pueblito (literally "The virgin from the small town").

Having said that, of course the jewish woman who accidentally recreated the fucking Pietá with the huge catholic dude with a saviour complex, as his side bled because he had a fucking nail stuck in there, WAS GOING to get attached to the jewish woman who is a LITERAL PART OF THE PIETÁ alongside THE VERY MAN MY EXBOYFRIEND WORSHIPPED and she birthed, as he also BLED FROM HIS SIDE, with NAILS stuck in his BUTCHERED HANDS.

Like, if you think about it, Mary also got ultra crucified for the sins of humanity inside of the christian lore. I do not believe this happened at all and I am not like, going to fucking convert to catholicism, but oh man. Oh man man man. Do I think of her often, with all these statues that mostly portray her in such a state of grief, looking up at the sky with hope on her big tender eyes full of tears, begging for mercy and forgiveness. Or with that compassionate soft gaze, meant to fall over the audience at the sanctuaries and parishes, filling all of their faithful spirits with motherly joy.

I do not have a mother, Feral. There's a warmth in that woman's eyes, some type of comprehension people often grow to find on their favourite characters or their favourite shows. I wouldn't say I believe in her as the holy mother of like, the almighty Christian Messiah or all that, but all I can think is "man, she's so me. Look at her, gifting herself to the christian Gxd, hoping her son will save the world as promised, knowing she will suffer but being so willing to do so for the sake of people that couldn't care any less".

I am and will always be jewish. As insufferable as it is, jews are my people and I wouldn't change that ever, it's my pride and joy to be a part of our tribe. But if I ever had to mutter a christian prayer, maybe I'd give one to her. Maybe I'd dedicate a rosary to my non religious, secular idea of her.

This is """problematic""" as fuck but this is what trauma does to a motherfucker. You cope the way you can and stick to it.

Any way to cope with being alive that doesn't cause physical injury is among the better ones, and being attached to something that's a huge part of the world you know isn't odd. You don't get to choose who your people are - in the sense of where you come from. But you do get to choose where you're going.

I've never met a catholic in real life. The christians here are lutherans, they don't believe in martyrdom or having sanctity or grace in suffering and sacrifice. In a way I sometimes wonder if they'd be more sympathetic to the suffering of others if they saw any value in it. Or even their own suffering. Languish, acceptance and embracing grief are more or less foreign concepts to them. They don't believe in saints, in Mary, or - no matter what they say - in a loving G-d.

Grief needs an outlet, some way for it to bleed out or it will fester. And not to sound messianic (fuck those clowns), but as much as we know of Jesus of Nazareth, he was still a jew, born of a jewish mother. All things considered, who else would you reasonably turn to?

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Yandere!Jason Hudson with partner!darling (who’s rather professional and doesn’t want to get in trouble dating a employee at the CIA— especially her very own partner who’s only soft around her) who gotten captured and brainwashed by the Russians? Hudson and his squad finds her and tries to reverse the MK-Ultra (which doesn’t rlly work since she’s unfortunately too defiant and hostile for them to handle) but then he gets an idea and decided to let her believe that they were in a relationship. and even spices it up that he was even going to propose, before she got captured. Good god, I have multiple issues for requesting this. 😂 pls forgive me for the long and specified request.

Yay! More ice cold CIA man! I tried checking the wiki for his personality and couldn't find much so I did what I could! I misread the request so I thought you were already in a relationship. Which meant I had to go back and change it. I did a concept as it was not specified :(.

Yandere! Jason Hudson with Partner! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Protective behavior, Dubious relationship, Kidnapping, Brainwashing, Angst, Manipulation, Drugs.

Let's start by talking about the relationship between you two.

You know Hudson more than anyone.

You two haven't quite been dating but have been partners for awhile.

You're both CIA agents and often focus on your work

You've noticed Hudson's softness with you but turn him down if he tries to see you out of work.

You want to be professional.

Jason Hudson respects that about you, he likes that you stay as professional as him.

Which usually means softness is lowkey with him.

Hudson isn't a very affectionate man anyways, always showing a cold and stoic persona of your (stereo)typical CIA agent.

He's soft around you and you can tell he holds some sort of feelings for you but he can't express them.

The most he does is watch you while on duty and keep you close in case he has to cover you.

Hudson has been through many missions, probably more than you depending on how long you've been on the CIA..

He gives you words of encouragement and is always looking out for you.

Others can barely suspect him of holding feelings towards you.

He's been trying to keep it secret so you both don't get in trouble.

Then there was your capture.

In some sort of mission gone wrong you were captured.

Hudson began to fear the worst and had his squad try to find you.

You were an excellent member in your field so getting you back was a priority.

To Hudson, you're much more than that.

He wants his partner back.

By the time you're found by the CIA you're too far gone.

Internally, Hudson feels distraught.

The woman he's fallen in love with has been completely changed.

Due to being brainwashed in your capture, you now see the CIA as the enemy.

Dragging you back to base was problematic for everyone involved.

You fought tooth and nail against them, the sight made Hudson's heart shutter.

You didn't deserve any of this.

The next step was to try and reverse your treatment.

Hudson decided to take charge in the endeavor to try and help you.

The experimental way of fixing you was using MK-Ultra to bring you similar to how you were before.

Despite this you were still too combative and hostile to get anything out of you.

You barely even recognize your very own partner.

The one whose always had deep feelings for you.

Your vulnerable mind due to all the brainwashing and the concoction of chemicals makes you susceptible to information.

When Hudson realizes he can't get you to normal by these means, he may decide to make you something new.

Hudson is desperate to reignite that care you had shown him before as his partner.

He knows back then you didn't want to get in trouble.

He hopes you'll forgive him for what he's planning to do then.

While you're under the influence of many different drugs, Hudson implants memories.

He tells you that you and him had been dating in the past.

Even with your attempt to be combative you still begin to look at him with confused fondness.

He continues his fabricated story, even feeling a bit happy that he can finally admit these feelings.

Despite the circumstances making this confession rather twisted.

Hudson even says you and him were going to get married.

He was going to propose so you can stay at home and be his housewife.

He either tells you that you were part of the CIA or makes up another story.

Either way your mind begins to believe what he says due to how your brain is wired currently.

Your mind is like clay constantly being molded by different sources.

Hudson feels bad, but only the little bit.

His cold persona only cracks a bit when you stop fighting and hug him hesitantly.

It's wrong to manipulate you in such a way.

Hudson knows he's taking advantage of a horrible situation.

Yet as he watches you recover, he tells himself it's the right thing.

It was either this or he lost you forever.

Ever since overriding your brainwashing, you've been more affectionate towards Hudson.

He enjoys the change but takes you off the CIA.

You don't need to be in the field anymore, he'll take care of you like he's done before.

Except this time, he'll take care of you as a husband.

When you're recovered enough at his home, he'll propose.

You and him will be together as you should've been.

You won't have to worry about being professional anymore...

He's already molded you to be his perfect little wife when you recover.

[dadbastiandisaster]

Hi! I’d love to see you expand on this/these tags. (Genuinely curious — I hope I don’t come across as being too demanding. My brain just needs food.)

(Had to ask again because Tumblr didn’t tell me that the first had gone through. A common glitch. So sorry if you’ve received two of these. Have a nice day!)

Not at all, thank you so much for giving me an excuse to ramble about our favourite (and only) demon butlers.

So I’m not an expert, but to the best of my knowledge butlers are essentially in charge of all the male servants (or in Sebastian’s case really all the servants because there is no head maid or any other head female servant). But Sebastian does everything himself. He almost always tells the other servants to stay out of trouble/not to do anything, and we very rarely see him give specific instructions (which the other servants clearly need), which is like, not what he should be doing??? I’ve said it many times before, but Tanaka is the only Phantomhive staff member who is actually good at their job, Sebastian is just good at everyone else’s jobs.

Tldr, Sebastian is a shit butler. He doesn’t want to risk the other servants screwing up (the manga makes so many jokes about the servants stressing Sebastian out with their shenanigans) so he just does everything himself, because he is a Big Perfectionist.

Claude on the other hand, is not. We see with him leaving the spot of sauce on Seb’s plate as well as other things I can’t remember off the top of my head that he is not nearly as much of a perfectionist as Sebastian. He has broadly more competent staff, which does help, but it’s not like he’s really checking over their work. Claude does delegate tasks to the other Demons, which is like actually what a butler should be doing.

Claude doesn’t really care about getting an A+ and a gold star in Being A Demon Butler, he just cares about getting things done in the quickest and easiest way possible. Claude doesn’t obsess over aesthetics like Sebastian, and he seems downright confused by Sebastian’s relentless pursuing of Ciel’s soul.

Also the anime kind of half-arses this spider, puppet master characterisation for Claude. We sort of see this in the chessboard fight: instead of going for flashy, short-term victories, Claude lets Sebastian think he’s winning but actually traps him inside his Ultra-Sharp Magic Web™. I’m not saying Sebastian is the dumber one out of the two of them, but he’s not exactly strategic, and he’s definitely got more of a love of showmanship than Claude.

Anyway yeah that’s my ramble. They are my trash demons I love them very much

[ihhfhonao3]

Ace attorney charas and what I think their Pokémon partners would be! I refuse to give them any legendaries or mythicals or ultra beasts because that’s lame

Phoenix - Pidgeot. Need I say more

Maya - Liepard. The Liepard was initially Mia’s, but Maya took it in when she died. Maya was never given a Pokémon of her own because Misty was the one who gave everyone in the Fey clan Pokémon once she became the head. Maya was too young for one when she disappeared and never bothered to find one for herself.

Miles - Arcanine! The legendary Pokémon paired with the legendary prosecutor? Plus, I feel like he would have a story with it similar to James’ growlithe.

Larry - Ditto, since he is always changing his job.

Pearl - Clefairy

Gumshoe - Gumshoos. Basic, I know, but it works.

Franziska - Mienshao all the way

Godot - Flygon, because red eyes

Apollo - Braviary

Klavier - Chatot

Kristoph - A female meowstic

Ema - After careful thought, dragalge

Trucy - A brionne! Would’ve been floragato but brionne has the sweet Trucy energy

Athena - Audino, duh

Simon - Staraptor. Would’ve been zoroark but he’s the bird man

Nahyuta - Spiritomb

Kay - Thievul

Sebastian - Wingull. Just got the vibes.

Judge - Eevee! I just thought that it would be cute if the big scary judge had a little cat puppy.

I only really did main characters and protags, but if you want me to do some supporting characters and witnesses I can!

[killjoynest]

ok so wrt to recent post i am coming out of my usually "we care not for the creator" area to just point out some actual canon info w/ sourcing.

you guessed it! its abt the common party poison misconception

So gerard ways twitter does have a thread about party poisons gender, but does not state that in canon party poison is nonbinary [more of the tweets here]

[ID: three tweets from Gerard Way, dated from April 2015.

"Been seeing people refer to the character 'Party Poison' as non-binary. I find this interesting - is this drawn from thei gender expression?"

"It seems to be people's interpretation of the character, not mine specifically. I'm just curious about it."

"it's always interesting to see how your characters are perceived and adopted. I see a lot of female Party Poisons, almost all at conventions" /end ID]

so the actual response is actually "oh i see the nonbinary hc is popular. thats an interesting interpretation"

The actual in-character tweets from the Killjoy accounts? party poison is only ever directly responded to or referred to by name or only talked about with another character. this also extends to the listening party!

as for the comics, we get Vamos and Val using he/him when talking about party poison - something no other character contradicts.

[ID: two screenshots of the danger days california comics. the first is of the Ultra Vs, with Vaya saying "What were they like? my bedroom was covered in Poison posters when I was little." Vamos responds "Duh, he was the leader. everyone's was. my favourite was kobra. He had some sass, but ghoul and jet were pretty jazzy too."

the second is of Val Velocity, who says "I'm gonna show everyone how things should be done and they'll forget Poison even existed. When they see red, they'll think of Val Velocity. I'm taking his colour." End ID]

and, at best, the fabulous killjoys are called a "four man banger cell" by doctor death

[ID: a panel from the danger days california comics. the girl is liste ing to a radio broadcast, which says "it's been twelve years since the four-man banger cell gave their colours to end B.L.I's white cries. they called themselves Killjoys." End ID]

also at 0:45 in this video - "these four men" is also the closest we get to gendering (its the danger days intro vid)

So, as far as canon is cobbled together, all we really get is using he/him for party poison. outside of canon, we have gway acknowledging the nonbinary headcanon on twitter but not stating it to be canon.

There are a few Amino screenshots on party poison, allegedly from gerard way. those are dated 2018. considering the gender of vaya and vamos was said to be shaun simons thing on twitter, im not inclined to take the amino comments as accurate but still. but those say "it was always the intention" which, considering the tweets from earlier years - doubtful!

so yeah tl;dr - "party poison uses they/them" is just a bit of fanon considered canon. fandom misconception lol gerard way did not give the rep people keep thinking he did

[bracketsoffear]

ok long on why you should vote for the narrator (unless stated, I won't talk about the buck endings if there is a different ending with the bucket.) I am also dyslexic so some spelling might be kinda ehhh while yes, you the player are a character and it's acknowledged a total of like twice in the game in the endings. The museum ending where the Female Narrator talking to you about the narrator and Stanley and in the not Stanley ending where the narrator is talking to you. In the museum ending the Curator as the fans have named her, she talks about how they both wish to control and destroy one another and how they both want to be free (from assumedly the parable) she talks about how they need one another. but while talking to the player she says that "there is only one way to beat this game as long as you move forward you'll be walking someone else's path." id argue that's the path the narrator sets for Stanley. he's the one in control where parts of it are the player and TK (where both characters edit the story to mess with the narrator) the narrator still has control. Now during the not Stanley ending is the ending that the narrator realizes Stanley isn't in control of himself and it's in fact you the player who he's been interacting with. the continuity of the game starts to break down and the narrator instructs you to complete the game correctly, getting you (for the only instance in the game) to backtrack to where you get the first option to go for the left door or the right. going through either door will get you berated for your choice.

now with the player points out of the way, we get to the Narrator and his control over the world around him and Stanley. In the Freedom ending, the idea of escape is always dangled in Stanley's face but is never achievable even with the bucket where its even more stated that stanley can not leave. And in the countdown ending as I stated before the narrator takes joy in stanleys fear and panic while he trys to stop the building from blowing up while he is in there. the narrator does care as he will be unaffected but he takes joy in stanleys panic. In the both the cold feet and in the powerful ending Stanley falls to his death either because of the narrator telling and pushing him to do so or because stanle ytrys to get a bit of control in going against what the narrator wants him to do, except that just causes the narrator to sarcastically tell stanley "good job in disrupting my plan". In the apartment ending we straight up have the narrator pulling the strings and pupatearing stanley's wife. who is a mannequin and is just a puppet for the narrator to torment stanley with. and in that same seen narrates "the Story of The Death of A Man Named Stanley" to torment him. In the games ending in the stanley parable ultra delux where after sending stanley to two different game, in rocket leage he takes all the balls away and reminds Stanley he is playing his game, eventually leaving him there after giving stanley the ability to play the game. All the actions the narrator takes is to torment and hurt stanley in a web the narrator made. while the fear aspect isn't there for us the player its there for stanley. Stanley is a fly stuck in his web but the Narrator does realize that he has spun his web around his own throat. that's such good irrony and I think that's what makes him perfect because he's so stuck in his own web he can not stop. as I also said in the of info, there is an encounter where the narrator tricks stanley into thinking that he is just a tape recorded voice, that stanley is alone to see stanley in fear. in canon the only way stanley and the narrator can get out is though the escape pod ending while being together, but the only way to get that ending is to leave the narrator behind because the narrator will never let stanley go from his web.

(narrator propaganda I just like talking down on my bbygirl. I'm also so tired rn and I'm so sorry if this is kinda hard to understand this is a bunch of unfiltered thoughts being moulded into being coherent.)

.

[popstart]

Gen 2 sexuality headcanons?

Anne Maria: i dont hc her as anything spesific but she likes girls and i cannot see her with a man lol

B: i like the hc hes a trans man i can appreciate that we won the most transgender showdown. unlabeled sexuality

Brick: peeerrrsonally i see him as transmasc but not always. no spesific sexuality hc cuz i don't care about that aspect of brick

Cameron: ive never thought about it. to be fair i dont think he has the knowledge to label it for himself either if hes so sheltered

Dakota: i have nothing spesific in mind. girls that are in canon f/m relationships that i like are always in a weird situation where i cant just slap lesbian on them and call it a day LOL.

Dawn: I used to hc her lesbian but shes unlabeled as hell (both sexuality + gender). that one propaganda in the trans tournament that said she would have the most ultra spesific xenogender that she doesn't label or explain to anyone was so correct

Jo: i looove lesbian jo. ^_^ i heavily dislike trans headcanons of her though (both ways but ESPECIALLY transmasc.) i dont think she would actually identify AS lesbian but she would identify With the label. gay woman. idk. i think her gender is just so lesbian

Lightning: i cant see him with a woman LOL. hes a gay man

Mike + Manitoba + Vito: bisexual. ez pz. gives me the vibes

Mal: i have no opinions on him since the show itself gives you nothing to work with

Chester: i have no opinions on lol

Svetlana: Lesbiaannn. shes lesbian.

Sam: Transmasc to me highkey, though ive also seen transfem and think thats damn cute. nonbinary & bisexual. most trans men i know irl go by he/it so im sayin that for him too

Scott: trans girl lesbian. does anyone get me. i she/her scott to myself all the time i just dont do so publicly bc it gets confusing and i always hate when people he/him female characters i like

Staci: lesbian. the default state of being for all my hcs for girls that dont get enough screentime.

Zoey: shes bi to me but also i see lesbian hcs and i think they're rly funny