#like again I really do not know if this actually hurt his feelings

[moonstruckme]

oh my gosh ¹⁴⁾ trying to cope with a fever during a heatwave with poly wolfstar sounds like the ultimate summer comfort fic 💕 remus would be so good at taking care of u, and sirius would be soooo dramatic in solidarity 💖🌸

Thanks lovely <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 713 words

Remus comes home from work to find your flat a cave. There are signs of life in the living room, displaced pillows and a blanket looking cast aside, but your home is eerily silent. He discovers the cause in your bedroom: you and Sirius, looking like you never left bed in the first place. 

Every curtain is pulled shut, but some daylight prevails, casting the two of you in shades of grey where you lay in your pajamas atop the bedsheets. You’re spread out in every direction, clearly asleep, whereas Sirius seems to be occupying himself simply with looking at you. He glances up as Remus enters. 

“Hi,” Remus whispers. “When did you get home?” 

“Never left,” Sirius replies softly. He nods to you, taking a piece of your hair idly between his fingers. “She’s sick.” 

A quiet, doting, oh drops from Remus’ lips. He sets down his bag and comes to the edge of the bed. “With what? Since this morning?” 

Sirius nods as Remus eases himself onto the mattress beside you. There’s a flannel laid across your forehead. “She said she wasn’t feeling well when she woke up, just after you left. Seems like a cold or something. Wicked fever, though.” 

You shift a bit, their voices evidently causing you to rouse. Remus takes the opportunity to lift the flannel, lying the backs of his fingers across your brow. You are terribly warm. 

Your eyes open lazily. “Hey,” you mumble. 

Remus can’t help but smile. “Hi.” 

“Did you…” You stretch, groaning. “Is work done already? How was your day?” 

His chest aches with fondness. “It was good, sweetheart. What about you? You’re not feeling well?” 

Your lips pull down into a frown. Remus represses a cooish, pitying sound he knows you’ll hate. “My head hurts.” 

He tuts. “We’ll have to do something about that, then.” 

“We have,” Sirius chimes in. He sounds slightly offended. “Exhibit A: warm flannel.” 

“Right.” Remus leans over you to give him a kiss, conciliating. “Thank you, love. What about paracetamol?” 

Sirius hums proudly. “Had it.” 

“Perfect.” Remus takes the flannel from your head, smoothing away some damp baby hairs. “I think we’ll probably trade this out for a cooler one until our temperature comes down, alright?” 

Sirius frowns at this, but you sigh, shifting again like you’re trying to find a cool inch of bedspace. 

“I’m really hot,” you admit. 

“Aw, baby, we know.” Sirius takes your hand, kissing the back. “Good that you’re getting wise to it, though. We bemoan how hot you are all the time.” 

That coaxes a tired smile out of you. Remus has to imagine you really are sweltering. This time of day in the summer, your un-air-conditioned flat is usually at its warmest; it’ll take a few hours to cool off, and the effects are undoubtedly worse when you’re already suffering a fever. 

Remus feels along your face and the back of your neck contemplatively while Sirius coos at you. You seem in a strange enough mood to indulge him, the two of you going back and forth in low, murmuring tones. Remus knows his hands aren’t cold, but you act as though they are. You sigh quietly each time he moves his touch to a new place. 

“How would you feel about having a cold bath?” he asks after a while. 

You look up at him, your eyebrows raised slightly. “That actually sounds kind of nice.” 

Sirius hisses through his teeth. “Yikes, babe. That’s how you know it’s really bad.” 

Remus hides a smile. “Maybe Sirius will even get in there with you, yeah? Would that be nice?” 

“Oh.” You’re well aware of Remus’ game, but you play along, turning your eyes up to your other boyfriend sweetly. “That would be really nice. Would you, please?” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You’re both terribly, undeservedly cruel to me,” he says, looking between you. “But if it’ll actually make you feel better, I’ll do it.” 

“Awe.” Your lips stretch into a syrupy smile as you roll over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “That’s so sweet. Thank you, baby.” 

Sirius pats your back, a smug uptilt to his mouth. “Yeah, well, I’m a giver.” But after a moment his brows furrow, the smirk slipping. “Does this mean you do want me to?”

[asahehskafah]

every time I saw this post, I felt strange. It didn't feel like it applied to me, but I couldn't help pausing to stare out of the window for a moment.

It wasn't until last month that I realised it did.

A local transmasc had noticed me simply nodding along and saying 'same' when he was briefly summarising some of his trauma, instead of looking mildly to moderately shocked like everyone else at the meet-up. He pretty much cornered me in my DMs a while later when I was having a bad day and said 'hey do you wanna like. get into any of this?'

By that point I had already kinda figured out the deity identity stuff, but wasn't really that confident in owning it properly, nor had I figured out some of the more specific reasons why I felt it fit. He systematically deconstructed over 26 years worth of parental and societal trauma over a few days and it has made me realise how completely my internal structure is made up of nothing but a lattice barely-working beams that were never meant to be load-bearing, carefully constructed around a space of nothingness.

Lacking a sense of self is horrifying to me. My core is a void around which barely anything exists, except for a handful of preferences (I like specific times of stories, i dislike specific types of food, etc). I hadn't realised that I'd gone through so much of what I did until he literally ripped down the curtain shielding my introspection from going near that part of the room.

So seeing this post again, with the magnitude of mine own folly at last laid bare? It hurts. I am repressed. I've denied myself for nearly three decades. I've avoided doing anything to try to be myself because I've learnt from my past experiences that all it does is gets people hurt, and they hurt me back in the process. I feel like anything I'd do that would result in me taking up space endangers those around me, and thus endangers myself in response.

Making this account was a way for me to figure out what lays beneath the shell. I hesitate to even call it a mask, I don't think it's even vaguely reminiscent of humanity. I know it'll take time for me to find myself, but now that I'm aware of this wound at the centre of the world, it hurts so much to have to live with it.

I want to get through this. I need to live and survive and figure out what's on the other side of this barrier. I need to get out of my landlord(mother)'s house and cut her out of my life, have a space where I can actually figure out who I am and who I'm meant to be. But there's so much waiting involved while the 'affordable' housing company im on the waiting list for (and have been for over 6 months) does their thing, and I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

As I'm writing this, I'm AFK in FF14, listening to one of my favourite melancholy songs and sitting in a field of Elpis flowers, blooms meant to represent hope. The song is about the journey we've already walked, and how we've survived it. 'Unbroken promises we made so long ago. You're still here.' It makes me sob wretchedly to think about how I've survived this far, through the lens of this song. 'Always, night follows day. The sun will shine again. Walk on, never look back.'

I hope I can keep going.

i keep meeting transfems whose personalities are like, gaping wounds. girls who've been stomped on over and over until they start thinking they're uniquely evil and they deserve it. people shouldn't be allowed to treat us like this.

[revelboo]

For your fated mate series, I'm really intrigued to see how it would go for Optimus to find his mate on his next outing after witnessing B's try to escape. Maybe his human would have some angst about finding that sense of belonging in someone they'd have to give up their old life for, or maybe they'd be so damned jazzed to finally feel like everything is falling right into place because they've never felt like they belonged anywhere. (Maybe they're already into the idea of fucking an alien robot and they hit on him first, who knows?(wait that kinda happened with your idw OP, now that I think about it...))

At any rate, keep up the great work, stay rested and hydrated, and have a beautiful day.

Poor guy realizes how unhappy Bee’s human is, so he’d be horrified to end up drawn to his own human. Knows he should interfere with Bee, but also really wants it to work out and for his friend to be happy, so he’s turning a blind optic to what’s going on

Don’t Give Up On Me

TFO Optimus x Reader

• Venting as he watches Bee carry his human back to his habsuite while fussing over them, Optimus’s servos flex. Knowing he should say something. Put a stop to this obsession the other bot has, but at the same time, he remembers when he first met Bee. Abandoned and thrown away, isolated from everyone. And he thinks about how lonely that must have been. That he doesn’t want Bee to ever be alone like that again. So he stays silent with his guilt for letting this happen.

• Can feel the optics of the other Autobots that had witnessed everything on him and they turn away when he looks their way. Pretending they didn’t see anything. And it’s too much suddenly. “Going on patrol,” he growls stalking past them. Out of the suddenly claustrophobic Ark and he transforms, falling forward into his new vehicle mode taken from this world. Just needs some space.

• And there it is. No amount of pleading is coaxing your old sedan another mile or so as the engine sputters. You’d been coasting on fumes and prayers for miles, hoping there’d be a gas station around the next bend in the road. Rolling onto the side of the lonely stretch of road to come to a slow stop, your head thumps against the steering wheel. You’re not even really sure where you are, your phone had died miles ago. This was supposed to be a fresh start. A second chance. This isn’t how you envisioned it beginning at all.

• Rolling down the highway, he sees the car on the side of the road. Doesn’t even pay it any attention. Until he draws closer and it hits him unexpectedly. Spark aching as he slams on his brakes. Because he thought Bee had exaggerated the feeling. But it’s got him by the throat, longing and a sense of familiarity. Of home that he needs so bad it hurts. And he sees you startle at the screech of his brakes, sticking your head out the window to stare. You’re his. Knows it. Feels it spark deep, like he already knows you. That he’s always known you.

• Staring at the red and blue semi, you inhale. Good Samaritan or axe murderer, place your bets, you think as you cast about for anything even remotely resembling a weapon and come up with nothing. And the truck’s just sitting there in the middle of the road. Like the driver isn’t sure he actually wants to help, cranking your anxiety higher. Staring as the semi shudders right before the thing comes apart, your mouth falling open as it stands up. And stares down at you with strange blue optics that somehow feel so familiar.

• You’re right there. So small and precious, something he needs more than energon, more than life. Loving you the moment he be meets your eyes. Can you feel it, too? Do you know him? Have you been waiting your whole life for him like he’s waited for you? He smiles down at you, crouching and reaching. Right as you’re throwing open a door and running away from him. There’s no conscious decision, he’s moving to catch you out of reflex. Because he has to. Can’t let you get away now that he’s found you even as he’s horrified by the visceral need to catch you, hold you. Keep you.

I wanted to go to the kickoff party tonight, but whatever I did has me FUBARed pretty good lol. Can’t stop sweating and walking feels like I’m on a trampoline.

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 16/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : angst, mention of harassement, not graphic just imply (not from Lando)

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 16 : SMAU

Text messages :

Lando:

I can’t sleep.

Every time I close my eyes I see your face from that night. How hurt you looked. How I did that.

Lando:

I don’t know how to fix it. I just know I want to.

Lando:

I didn’t trust you. And you didn’t deserve that.

You gave me something real and I let fear destroy it.

Lando:

I'm sorry. God, Ari. I’m so sorry.

Lando:

Just… if you never want to see me again, I get it.

But please don’t leave me not knowing where I stand.

Please don’t leave me like this.

Lando:

I keep thinking if I had just held your hand and listened that night… none of this would’ve happened.

Lando:

Do you hate me now?

Lando:

I’d understand if you did.

Lando:

But I really, really hope you don’t.

No Reply

@landonorris

Sometimes you only learn to miss someone once the silence starts to echo.

@f1updatesfan

 uhhh is Lando okay? 😟

@softlandoenergy

 he’s been posting like a sad playlist in human form lately 💔

@f1gossipqueen

 don’t attack me but this feels like an heartbreak

@carbonfiberballet

 remember that girl from the ballet posts?? 👀

@tangledupincurls

 he posted this and didn’t even caption it with an emoji. something’s wrong wrong

@gridgirldiaries

 🕯️manifesting healing for this poor man 🕯️

Texts messages :

Lando:

I will land in Paris in the morning.

I don’t even know if you’ll see this, but… I’ll be there.

I just want to talk. Just five minutes. I’ll wait anywhere you say. You don’t even have to look at me. Just let me say I’m sorry in person.

Lando:

Please, Ari.

Lando:

Can you at least tell me if you’re okay?

Message Not Delivered

Lando:

…no.

Lando:

You blocked me.

Lando:

You actually blocked me.

Lando:

I deserve it.

I’d block me too.

Lando:

But it still fucking hurts.

@landonorris (Instagram Story)

Song:

 🎵 “All I Want” – Kodaline

 “But if you loved me, why'd you leave me?

 Take my body, take my body

 All I want is, and all I need is

 To find somebody… I’ll find somebody like you…”

@f1softestboy

 okay but lando posting "all i want" by kodaline in complete silence...

@gridtearz

 he really said: no caption. no context. just pain.

@slowburnlando

 sir. who hurt you and why did YOU let them go 😭💔

@landowithluv

 I’ve been fine all week but that song choice?? during this phase of his life??

@burntballetflats

 this is 100% about the ballerina.

@f1moonenergy

 he’s not posting lyrics to be poetic he’s literally screaming for help in sad indie boy dialect

@f1gossipcentral

BREAKING NEWS ✈️ Lando Norris spotted at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris this morning.

The McLaren driver appeared noticeably somber as he made his way across the tarmac, despite being expected to remain in Brazil with friends for another week.

Fans at the terminal described him as “quiet, polite, but distant” and several reported he stayed seated alone for nearly 20 minutes after landing before being picked up.

No official statement from him, but many are speculating why the sudden detour to France… and why he looked like he hadn’t slept in days and if it's not related to a certain ballerina 👀

@lan_donothing:

He looks so cold and small wtf someone hug him 😭

@ballerinaburnbook:

nah this is about the ballerina 100000% he shortened his trip AND dropped that sad story

@maxpowered:

I thought he was living it up in Brazil with the boys?? He just ghosted the vibes.

@slowburnlando:

And the ballerina also came back earlier from her "solo trip" after her injurie

@pastelf1soul:

He’s not even TRYING to hide it 😩 Man is in is heartbreak era.

@gridgirldiaries:

Okay but imagine the girl walking through arrivals and seeing him like THAT 🥹

@f1rumourmill:

allegedly seen near Palais Garnier earlier today 👀Which… we ALL know who that links to.

@cherryribbons:

Hate how this saga has me acting like I’m in a sad indie film

@arianariverria

Back to Paris, back to dancing, back to healing

Comments have been desactivated

@royaloperahouse_official

It is with great gravity that we announce the immediate termination of our lead principal dancer, Marc Bertrand, following multiple internal reports of inappropriate conduct toward several female colleagues within the company.

An internal investigation is currently underway. While we are committed to ensuring privacy and dignity for the individuals involved, we want to make it unequivocally clear that the Royal Opera will no longer employ, endorse, or support Mr. Bertrand in any capacity moving forward.

We remain committed to fostering a safe and respectful environment for all our artists. Updates will be provided when appropriate.

@balletteaaa wait wasn’t he dating Ariana Riverria?? 😧

@dramatica.london they broke up like a year ago but he was still acting like they were together 💀 creepy af

@truthwhispers There’ve been rumors about him cheating and being rough w/ some of the younger dancers… maybe now ppl are finally listening.

@arianaxparis I’m just glad Ariana left the Royal Opera and went back to Paris. She looks so much happier now 💕

@teaandtoeshoes Kinda weird how they’re keeping it internal. If it’s harassment, why not take it to court?

@ballerinaroyal if Ariana was his ex and she saw this behavior up close… no wonder she cut ties and moved on. poor girl 😞

@stagelightshadow So basically they fired him but aren’t saying exactly what he did? Sounds serious if they’re cutting ties completely.

@danseparisienne People have whispered about Marc for years. Arrogant, entitled, always flirting with younger dancers. Glad it’s finally public.

@bravoballetqueen Ohhh so THIS is why Ariana left so suddenly 😮‍💨 I thought it was a career move but now it makes sense…

@londonspotlight Is it true that he kept telling press he and Ariana were just "on a break"? 💀 Dude was delusional.

@truthinspandex If even Royal Opera is letting him go this fast, it has to be serious. They're not known for moving quickly on anything.

@justice4artists Why isn’t there a lawsuit? If he harassed multiple dancers, they deserve justice, not just a quiet “termination.”

@rumeurrouge I heard he tried to get Ariana removed from a role after they broke up bc she didn’t want to go back with him… 😳

Texts messages

Lando I saw the news about Marc. Are you okay?

Lando You probably still have me blocked. That’s fair. I deserve it. But I’m sending this anyway. Just in case.

Lando I can’t stop thinking about how horrible this must be for you. I’m so, so sorry you ever had to deal with him.

Lando And I’m even more sorry that when you were with me, I let my own jealousy get in the way of understanding what you’d really been through.

Lando I thought you were still close to him. I didn’t ask. I didn’t listen. I just assumed. And I acted like a complete idiot in Brazil because of it.

Lando You deserved my trust. Instead, I gave you silence, attitude, and suspicion. I hate that I became someone who made you feel small. You’re the last person who ever deserved that.

Lando I don’t know what happened between you and Marc, and I don’t need to. I just wish I’d known then what I know now, that you weren’t okay. That you were protecting yourself.

Lando And even if you were okay… I should’ve supported you anyway. I didn’t. And I regret that more than I can say.

Lando I’m here, Ariana. Even if I’m not who you want anymore. Even if you never reply. I just want you to be safe. And loved. I hope you know you are.

Lando Always on your side. Even now. Especially now.

Seen by Ariana 2:11 AM

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1

Let me know if you want to be add to the taglist !

[dark-fanfics-moon]

THE PET Remmick x Reader

Part 4

Synopsis: Remmick will use ALL methods to make you stay. But maybe that backfired a little…

Warning:…It’s smut. Here. I said it. I have never written actual smut before in my life. But Remmick made me want to. Also Remmick is kind of a switch in this. He gives as much as he receives I’ll say. If you do not like smut, do not read. If you like smut, do not hesitate to like and comment. With that, enjoy. 😄👍

Here is part 3:

Irish Gaelic vocabulary used:

A ghrá: My love

Mo mhuirnín dílis: My faithful darling

Le do thoil: Please

Mo chroí: My heart

Táim ag dul chun do scriosadh: I am going to destroy you

Mo shíorghra: My eternal love

Your back slammed against the doorframe as Remmick’s hand tightened around your throat—not enough to crush it, not yet, but enough to make your breath catch. The inn’s candlelight flickered wildly as he shoved the door open, dragging you inside your shared room like you weighed nothing. The door slammed shut behind you with a finality that made your heart leap to your throat. Remmick’s eyes burned with anger, hurt, obsession—all tangled into one. He pushed you back against the wall and stared at you, his face still wet with another man’s blood.

“You ran.” His voice was calm, but the weight in it was terrifying. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath cool and unsteady. “You ran from me, darlin’…after all that warmth. All that progress between us…? Ye disappoint me, pet.”

You tried to speak, to explain, to cry—but his hand was still on your throat. He was pissed.

“Ye got me feelin’ things, darlin’. Things I dunno know what to do with.” He gave a breathless little laugh. “And then ye go runnin’ into another man’s arms like it meant nothin’. Aww…tut-tut-tut. Bad pet. That ain’t kind.”

His lips brushed your ear.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t just drain ye right now. Tell me why I should let ye keep that sweet lil’ heart beatin’ after yer lil’ betrayal ?”

You wanted to lie, but instead you shook your head and a laugh escaped you. You were tired and just wanted all this to end. “Of course I wanted to leave. You treat me like a pet. You make me feel worthless. Why would I want to stay with you ?”

Your words hung in the air like a blade freshly drawn. Remmick froze. For a second, he didn’t breathe. Then his hand dropped from your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck twitching as he slowly stepped back from you.

“Worthless…” he repeated, as though testing the word. He laughed once, low and hollow and raised his hand to his head in disbelief. “That really what ye think I see ye as ?”

He shook his head and looked at you, really looked this time—eyes flickering over your tear-streaked face, the way your chest rose and fell from everything he’d done. His voice, when it came again, was quieter.

“Ye think I dunno what I did to ye ? I ain’t stupid, darlin’. But I’m fuckin’ tryin’ here. I-I brought ye gifts ! I feed ye ! I take care of ye ! What more dye want from me, huh ?” He reached up slowly, brushing his fingers against your cheek as if the gesture could make up for anything. “You don’t know what it’s like…bein’ what I am. Cravin’ warmth every damn day and bein’ told you’re too monstrous to deserve it. So yeah, maybe I hold on too tight when somethin’ good comes near. But to hell with it…You’re the first thing in years that makes me feel alive.”

His eyes searched yours before he shrugged.

“But if ye want to go…I ain’t gonna stop ye this time. Door’s right there. But if ye stay ? You best mean it.”

The silence returned, pressing between you. The firelight crackled. He looked like he was bracing himself for you to walk away. You humphed and took a step towards the exit, but faltered and started thinking about what you would be returning to. Where would you go ? Your brother ? Your aunt ? They didn’t want to see you. They had their own life. Their own responsibilities. The people in your village hated you and you felt even more alone. To make matters worse…You felt Remmick’s hand hovering over your shoulder.

“…Me dolly. Ye know I could be good to you.”

Your breath hitched. That voice sent something skittering down your spine. Not fear this time, not entirely. Something deeper. Loneliness meeting loneliness. A cry in the dark met with another echo. You stared at the door again. Beyond it was freedom, yes…but also emptiness. Judgement. Cold nights and colder stares. No one waiting for you. No one calling you dolly like it meant something more than just another word in the wind. Remmick’s hand still hadn’t touched you, but you could feel its presence in the air just above your skin, like he was waiting for permission.

“…Why would you be good to me ?” you finally asked, voice quiet, tired, but not angry anymore. Just lost. He took a breath, slow and cautious, as if afraid you’d bolt at any second.

“Because I want to be,” he whispered, and his voice cracked ever so slightly. “Not just fer me. Fer ye.”

The next thing you felt was his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder. Gentle this time. Not grabbing. Not holding. Just there.

“I ain’t got much,” he continued. “Ain’t got grace or kindness like the stories tell. But I got loyalty. I got hunger. And if ye stay—I swear on my own grave—I’ll learn how to touch ye right. Speak softer. Bite less.”

A pause. And then, in that worn Irish lilt:

“Ye could teach me. If ye want.”

You stood still, the quiet of the room deafening, the door still there before you. You could just—

You lifted a hand to the handle. You opened it.

Remmick was standing behind you…his nose tracing the back of your neck. You closed your eyes at the feeling and shakily closed the door. You didn’t feel Remmick’s hand moving until it was back around your throat. But he didn’t squeeze. He wanted to hear your heartbeat and whispered in your ear:

“Good lassie. I knew you were smart…”

You could feel the cold pads of his fingers resting at your throat, and behind that—the warmth building in him, drawn straight from the frantic rhythm of your pulse. His lips brushed your ear, and he murmured again, his voice almost fond now:

“Smart and sweet. Me lil’ darlin’. Me dolly…” He inhaled deeply. “You made the right choice. Out there, they’d gut ye with words, starve ye with silence. But here ? With me ? I’ll never let ye go hungry. Never let ye freeze.”

His hand slowly slid down from your throat to your collarbone, then rested just over your heart. He was listening to it. Feeling it beat for him.

“Feel that ?” he whispered. “It’s mine now.”

You shivered and he smiled.

“Are ye scared, lil’ dolly ?” he asked and closed his eyes before pressing his temple against yours. “Or…are ye startin’ to see what I see ?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. His words had scraped something raw inside you—torn through every lonely night, every moment of aching rejection, and left you exposed.

Were you scared ?

Of course. Of course, you were. He was a vampire. A bloodsucker. A skilled manipulator. But what chilled you more…was how much you wanted to believe him. That he could be good. That you could teach him softness. That in all the darkness, maybe—just maybe—you weren’t just something he took, but something he chose.

“…I don’t want to be owned,” you murmured after a moment, barely above a breath. “I want to be loved.”

The silence that followed cracked like thunder.

Remmick didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The tension in his fingers went slack, not retreating, but changing. His hand on your chest softened until it wasn’t a claim anymore, but a vow. You felt his forehead shift, the line of his jaw clench.

Then, in a voice so broken it barely resembled his own, he whispered, “I know.”

You turned your head, just enough for your temple to press into his. For your breath to mingle with his in the stillness.

“Would you ? Love me ?”

For a long time, the room didn’t move. The fire crackled. The air was thick with tension and promise. Remmick’s grip finally slipped away, replaced by both hands gently cupping your face. And then he kissed you—not rough, not claiming, not devouring.

But trembling. Searching. Trying.

Trying to be good. For you.

In a moment of pure madness, you turned around and kissed him back. Your hands found the worn edges of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, like if you let go you’d be swept away in everything he was—danger, devotion, ruin. His breath hitched, and for a split second, you felt him falter, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really kissing him back. But then he melted into it—one arm wrapping firmly around your waist, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head with surprising tenderness.

His lips, still tasting faintly of blood and desperation, moved hungrily against yours. It was chaotic and clumsy, the way all first true things are. His teeth grazed your bottom lip when he pulled away slightly, breathing hard.

You exhaled shakily, your heart hammering against his chest as your mouth opened to demand. “A-Again.”

That broke something in him. He kissed you again—slower this time, reverent, like your mouth was a prayer and he was starving for salvation. His fingers threaded into your hair. You could feel the tremor running through his body, the conflict of instinct and longing, of bloodlust and heartache, all crashing into the simple truth that he wanted you. You cupped his cheek, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath your palm, and for the first time, you saw not the monster—but the man clawing his way back from the edge.

“D’not leave me, me darlin’…” He begged.

Your breath hitched.

“I’m not…going to—if you stop giving me reasons to,” you replied. “But you have to meet me halfway.”

A breathless laugh escaped him. “Aye, dolly. I’ll crawl the whole damn way if I have to...”

You kissed a third time. But then suddenly, flashbacks of what had happened to your father seemed to fill your mind and you stumbled back, your hand flying to your mouth in disbelief. Oh no…What had caused you to respond ? To say such things to your captor—your ravisher ? Remmick stood frozen, eyes wide, lips slightly parted where your kiss had just been. For a moment, he looked almost human—as if you’d stolen the breath right from his undead lungs.

Then, slowly, something shifted in his expression. His tongue ran over his bottom lip like he was tasting honey for the first time.

“Well…” he drawled, voice low and disbelieving. “Didn’t see that comin’. Such fire. Such passion. Ye kissed me back, darlin’. Ye chose to. Can’t take that back now.”

You shook your head, still backing away, eyes wide with panic. “I—I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why—”

“Oh, but I do.” His grin was hungry now, but not for blood. “Yer mine, and yer body’s startin’ to realise it before yer mind inevitably does.”

You trembled, torn between shame and something far more terrifying: the fact that a part of you—some wild, lonely part—wanted it. Wanted him. You tried to leave the room, but Remmick was quick and grabbed you again and started kissing your neck. “Ye could go…or ye could just lemme show ye how good I can be.”

You struggled, heart thundering, hands pushing against his chest—but it wasn’t with your full strength. Your body was caught in that awful middle place between defiance and surrender. He felt it. He knew it.

Remmick chuckled softly against your skin, breath cold as ice. “There it is again…That fire. That tremble.” His fingers curled around your waist like they’d always belonged there. “Ye do not want to run, dye me sweetheart ?”

Your breath hitched. He kissed you again—slower this time. Deliberate. Torturously tender. “Ye got no place else to go, darlin’. No one who’ll take ye in, no one who’ll see ye like I do. I could keep ye warm. I could make ye forget what it was like to be unloved.”

You were trapped—not just by his strength, but by the terrible, aching truth of those words. Your breath caught in your throat. His fingers, careful but unrelenting, moved slowly, slipping past the loosened fabric of your shirt as if he were unwrapping a gift he’d waited far too long to open. You closed your eyes tighter, trying to silence the confusion tearing through your thoughts. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to feel—

“You’re shiverin’, me lil’ warmblood…” Remmick whispered, his lips brushing just beneath your jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll warm ye up.”

His thumb swept gently across your stomach as he studied you, his breath heavy against your skin.

“I could take care of ye, y’know,” he murmured. “Make ye feel wanted. Ain’t that all ye ever needed ?”

You were silent—torn between the horror of the situation and the ache of years spent being unseen. His lips pressed just above your heart.

“Just say the word, me darlin’.” He waited, his cold breath still ghosting across your skin, the quiet between you thick as blood. You didn’t pull away—but you didn’t lean in either. You simply…stayed.

And that was enough for him.

A low sound rumbled in his chest, something close to a purr, as if your silence confirmed something he’d long suspected. His fingers resumed their slow exploration, reverent in their touch now, as if you were sacred—something rare, something stolen from the warmth of the world and given only to him.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’ll ask again, every single time. ‘Cause I want ye willing, not afraid. So…Dye want me to take care of ye, me pretty thing ?”

You sighed and looked up at the sky. Father. Forgive me. Which one you were addressing that prayer to ? You weren’t sure. Maybe both…And with that, you nodded in agreement. Remmick smiled victoriously and then lifted his hand to remove your shirt. He then gently pushed it off from your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours.

You instinctively covered your chest and closed your eyes. Alright. Maybe you should have thought this through. It wasn’t too late. You could still back out from this…right ? Remmick paused again, his eyes flicking to your hands covering yourself. His expression softened for a moment, but it was fleeting. His fingers twitched, as though battling with the temptation to disregard your hesitation and continue, but he stayed still.

He let out a soft breath and slowly withdrew his hands, not wanting to rush you, even though his desire burned beneath the surface.

“Yer not ready, are ye ?” His voice had lost some of its edge, replaced with a curious softness, an expression which seemed affectionate. He took a small step back, his gaze lingering on you. The room felt too warm, too charged with anticipation, but he seemed to respect the boundaries you had set, even if just for now.

“Take yer time. I got ALLLL the time in the world,” he told you with a smile. He then nonchalantly picked up his banjo and started playing a tune, humming along as he waited. The soft, rhythmic strumming of the banjo filled the room, its melancholic yet comforting sound breaking the tension. Remmick’s voice was low and soothing as he hummed along, the melody like a lullaby, though it felt strangely out of place given the situation.

His gaze remained on you occasionally, but he didn’t press further. His fingers danced across the strings with practiced ease, and the familiar tune seemed to wrap around the room, enveloping you in its quiet chaos.

You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm amidst the storm inside your head. As his melody lingered, you found yourself standing there, caught between wanting to escape and the undeniable pull he had over you. His music, his voice—it was as if he was trying to soothe you, to make you stay without saying a word.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, thudding in time with the banjo’s rhythm. Despite everything, there was something gentle in the way he played, something that kept you rooted to the spot. As your hands slowly fell to your sides, the weight of the decision seemed to lift for a brief moment. His eyes flicked to you, but he didn’t stop playing, his fingers never missing a beat. He seemed content, as if the music was his way of reassuring you. He didn’t press you. He never would…

Remmick was waiting—waiting for you to decide.

And in the stillness of that moment, as his soft humming blended with the music, you couldn’t help but wonder: What would it be like to just let go ? Your hands then slowly lifted before you could command them to do so…reaching forward. He smirked knowingly, as if saying ‘finally’ and in a matter of seconds, the banjo clattered to the floor, and you found yourself replacing it in his arms, your legs straddling him before your mind could catch up. His cold hands settled at your waist with practiced ease, holding you firm, as if he’d known you’d end up there all along. His lips pressed softly to your bare shoulder, humming that same haunting tune. The vibrations of it hummed through your skin.

“Tha’s it,” he murmured against your skin. “Me good lassie…warm ‘n willin’…”

The warmth of his mouth against your skin, the grip of his fingers on your hips—it was maddening, terrifying, addictive. You never thought in a million years you’d be enjoying this. You felt yourself giving in to the intense sensations, his body between your legs, his mouth on your skin. Your hand moved down without your consent…You opened a few buttons of his slacks. He groaned when he felt your hand start to undo them. He looked down at what you were doing, and let out a sharp intake of breath. He then looked up at you quizzically, studying your face to see how serious you were. His gaze was a mixture of lust and something else…a strange, almost childlike curiosity or mischievous glee.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You were being reckless and irrational, but you were so far gone by now that you couldn’t think straight anymore. You were acting of your own free will…but he was the one driving you wild. His eyes didn’t leave yours, his breathing heavy, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. His eyes were completely dilated, his breathing erratic. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t have the words. What was this ? He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were ragged gasps and moans of pleasure.

You were shocked and enthralled by this powerful creature, now so desperate for your touch. Your hand slid down, gently stroking him. He let out an undignified whimper and his head fell forward onto your shoulder.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go…He was supposed to have control and show you his talents to manipulate you into submission and yet—

“Stop.” He gasped and tried to push your hand away, but to no avail. You felt a smirk spread across your face at how much you were frustrating him. You moved your hand again, teasing him. He whined and grunted at your touch. You looked at him, studying him with curiosity. You had him trembling from the simple brush of your hand against him.

He had to stop this. He knew he had to stop this…but Remmick couldn’t. He hated himself for how badly he wanted this, how needy he was to feel your touch. He tried to push your hand away again, but you tightened your grip. He groaned, closing his eyes. You were completely in control now.

You whispered in his ear. “What’s the matter, Remmick ? Not used to being lead ?”

He moaned softly at hearing his own name. The way you said it…he had never heard it sound so good before. He gripped the sheets, his grip white knuckle as he fought to control himself. His body was shaking, he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Damn ye…” He growled the words out from gritted teeth, and the words sounded more like a curse or a plea.

You loved seeing him like this, seeing him struggle. He was so powerful and had always been in control…and now you had this power over him. This monster who could have killed you with a snap of his fingers couldn’t even fight his need for you. He was desperate now. The sound of him groaning and hissing like a beast…you had never heard something so erotic.

“…Lay down.” You instructed and he looked at you, his expression incredulous. He was torn…he wanted to resist, but he also wanted to obey you. His brain was screaming at him to regain control of the situation, but his body was obeying you on its own. He tried to fight it, but something overcame him and he finally relented. He slowly laid himself down with a thump, his back hitting the bed in his eagerness. You released him…but only to unbutton his shirt next. His chest was pale and strong, the lines of his abdominal muscles were clearly defined. You took one finger and gently traced it down the middle of his chest, starting from the top of his sternum, all the way down to his stomach. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell, as he struggled to maintain control. He was already a mess. Every touch of your fingers made him shiver.

He reached up, wanting to touch you as well, but you swatted his wrist away. He was shocked at the gesture and you almost laughed at how wide his eyes became. He looked up at you, trying to contain his surprise and frustration. He then opened his mouth to protest, but you placed one finger on his lips, silencing him.

“Now…You let me do this.” You demanded.

He hesitated before closing his eyes, and his body relaxed back against the bed. This was NOT surrender—he tried to convince himself. A pet should have some fun sometimes. It was…the natural way of things. However, he underestimated your brazenness and didn’t expect the sudden feeling of your lips on his body. Your hands roamed over the pale flesh of his chest and your mouth followed, placing small, delicate kisses on his skin. He inhaled sharply and his hands were grasping at the sheets now. He wanted to touch you…He growled in frustration.

Meanwhile, you couldn't believe it either. This creature…this monster…was under your spell. He was almost whimpering at the feeling of your mouth on his skin. You ran your hand along the ridges of his abdominals, marveling at the power you were holding in your hands. You continued on with your ministrations, running your fingers across his skin…tracing along his body, exploring every inch of his exposed flesh. He let out another small moan, his body shaking under your touch. He was breathing heavily, trying to fight off the sensations. You couldn't believe the raw intensity of the moment…the look of pure helplessness on his face as you—

He let out a strangled gasp, his eyes snapping open and staring down at you in shock at the sight of your lips on his manhood. His body jerked involuntarily. Warm…so warm. He was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing ragged. But you didn’t let up. His breathing grew faster, more desperate. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open anymore. As you continued your ministrations, he felt like he might break, but he didn’t want this to stop. The urge to touch was so strong…but every time he tried, you would stop him.

His body was begging for release, but you were keeping him on the edge. Suddenly, you stopped and lifted yourself up to be face to face with him as you kept stroking him. You wanted to see his face. His eyes were wide open in shock and it was so very satisfying to see him speechless. You flattened his black curls and your mouth hovered over his. But you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction…You kept squeezing and stroking him while staring into his eyes. His mind was reeling. He let out a strangled groan. He was trying to speak, but the sensations you had stirred up in him were making it difficult to form a sentence. He leaned forward, trying to kiss you, but you pulled back, keeping a small gap between your lips. You were teasing him…you were making him wait.

He tried to lift a hand to pull you closer to him, but you gently took his wrist and moved it back to the bed. He grunted in frustration, every part of him begging you for a kiss, for a touch, for anything…

“A ghrá…Please. A ghrá…” He called for you. His breath caught in his throat as soon as he heard his own words. A ghrá. It was an old term of endearment he hadn’t used in centuries…Hearing him speak in his original language made your blood boil in return. You relished the fact that you had him pleading. You leaned in a bit closer, letting him feel your breath on his face. He leaned forward, trying to catch your mouth once more…but you pulled away once again. It was a game…and you were winning. He was panting now, desperate to touch you.

“Please…A ghrá…” He growled. He couldn’t take this anymore…he was losing his mind. “A ghrá…I need ye.”

You looked down at him, enjoying the sound of his soft Irish lilt when he spoke his first language. He was now gripping your hips, trying to pull you closer. He was desperate, but you still would not let him kiss you. You looked down at his sharp teeth piercing through his gums now and the drool smeared acres his cheeks and chin.

…Were you really gonna do this ? Lose your innocence to this monster ?

He suddenly opened his eyes and stared up at you, his face filled with hunger and need and desperate desire. He was a monster…but you couldn’t deny the pull that he had over you. His breath was ragged and his hands were shaking violently, still staring up at you with those dark, lust-filled eyes. He was trying desperately to pull you closer, to feel your body against his, but you were still holding yourself just out of his reach. He growled in frustration.

“Mo mhuirnín dílis…Le do thoil.” He begged, saying things he wouldn't have dreamed of saying before. His body was shaking, his hands trembling as he fought to restrain himself. “Please, a ghrá…I need ye. I want ye. I'm begging ye. Lemme kiss ya…”

You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to remain unyielding. “No. You are still a monster. A creature from hell. A bloodsucking ghoul. You deserve…nothing.”

His eyes widened and his mouth did as well and you could see the sheer desperation in his gaze.

“Ach, a ghrá…darlin’…” His breath hitched as he felt you lower yourself onto him—but still not allowing him entrance. He was fighting for control, his body trembling, his fangs bared. “Darlin’…don’t. AH !”

He let out a moan as he felt himself enter you just a bit. It was so good…bliss. But you wouldn't let him have more. He looked up at you, his expression pained. He was trying to maintain his composure, but he was losing his mind.

“Please…a ghrá. Mo chroí, I need this…please…”

You saw how desperate he was, and you took pleasure in knowing how much power you had over him at the moment. You had him begging for your kiss…you had him begging for your touch. You had taken the most powerful, dangerous creature in the world, and reduced him to a trembling, needy mess. You wouldn’t even let him touch you…and you felt more powerful than you had ever felt in your life.

You leaned down closer to his face and smirked as you repeated mercilessly.

“No.”

He let out a whimper at your words. You had reduced this creature to a needy, desperate mess. He was begging you for the smallest amount of release.

“Me darlin’. P-Please. T-Tell me I can enter ye. Please. I cannot…enter ye fully without an invitation.”

You smiled down at him, almost cruelly. You had this monster completely in your power. “No. You don't get to touch me. You don't get to kiss me. And you don't get to come inside me neither. You don't get anything from me.”

He suddenly roared in frustration. “LET ME IN, YE WRETCHED WOMAN !"

He was screaming now, his whole body shaking. He had completely lost his composure. You had destroyed him, and it was the most satisfying thing you had ever seen. His eyes were red now and he was screeching like a banshee—his claws tearing through the sheets.

“LET ME IN ! NOW !”

He was like some feral animal. He was so desperate, he didn’t know what to do. You leaned down, and whispered to him in the softest voice you could muster.

“No. You don’t get to have me. You don’t get to have what you want. You will do as I say and take what I give you, you filthy bloodsucker.”

He let out a low, animalistic growl as he heard your words. He was almost beyond words. He was ready to do anything, say anything, to have you in any way he could.

He whimpered in frustration, and tried again. “Please…I’m beggin’ ye. I’ll do anything ye want. I’ll do whatever ye say. I’ll give ye anythin’ ye want…ah ! I just need to be in ya !”

Your smirk grew wider as you looked down at him, taking satisfaction in his desperate, begging state. He was at your mercy now. You whispered again, your voice soft, but commanding. “No. Beg all you want, Remmick. You don’t get to have me. Do you hear me, you pathetic bastard ?”

He let out a pitiful whine in response, his face contorting in pain. He was so close, but yet so far…he couldn't take this any longer. His body was trembling, his mind was racing…he needed you. He needed you so badly. He was almost in tears now as he pleaded with you. “Please…I can’t stand it. Please, A ghrá. Please, please let me come in ye. Just a lil’ bit. I know I don’t deserve it, but just a lil’ bit. Please…C’mon !”

You shook your head. You could see how desperate he was, and his sounds of despair were like music to your ears. You leaned down, so your mouth was only a few inches from his ear. “No. You don’t get any more than what I’ve given you. You don’t get anything from me…no matter how much you beg. You don’t get to touch me, kiss me, or come in me. You’ll come without me and I will relish your utter defeat…”

That was it…he couldn't take it anymore.

He screamed out, a primal, anguished howl. He couldn't do this anymore. He was a wreck, his whole body shaking. He pleaded and whimpered and cried. He was beyond words, beyond reason. He let out a strangled cry as he tried to form words again.

“Please, a ghrá. I’m beggin’ ya…I’ll do anythin’ ! I’ll crawl for ya. I’ll get on me knees. I’ll worship ye, mo shíorghra…” His words became more desperate and incoherent. He was begging and pleading. “Please, a ghrá. Gimme just a bit more, please. I’m beggin’ ye. I’ll do anythin’ fer ye, anythin’ ye ask. I’ll kiss the ground ye walk on, just please, PLEASE…let me come inside you. Just a bit. I’ll be so good. I won’t even move. Just a bit is all I’m askin’. Just a lil’ bit, darlin’ please, I’m beggin’ ya, darlin’ ! Lemme inside !”

You felt a surge of excitement in watching him plead so desperately. You leaned down and purred to him. “No. I like seeing you beg like this. It amuses me. But you don’t get to have me. You don’t get to come inside me. You’re going to come without me. You’re gonna spill yourself all over like a dirty pig—like the animal you are—and I am gonna watch. And I am gonna enjoy it. And you will feel humiliated—just like I have been for the past few weeks.”

His body tensed up, and you could see that he was getting close. He looked up at you weakly, helpless to stop himself. He let out a strangled whine, his voice barely above a whisper—one last desperate attempt to make you change your mind. “Please…a ghrá…PLEASE. I’m BEGGIN’ ye, a ghrá. Please, mo shíorghra…”

Your smirk grew even wider as you saw how completely helpless he was to stop himself and he took your wrist to kiss it and lick it. You had him right where you wanted him…You leaned down, your mouth hovering over his ear.

“No.”

As he came, you saw a look of despair and helplessness in his face, and you felt a pang of pleasure. His body convulsed as he came. It was the most intense and pleasurable experience he had ever had in his life, and it was ruined. He had become undone, and he hated you for it. Yet you felt nothing but triumph. He was a monster, and you had utterly, completely, totally dominated him. He hated you in that moment. He looked up at you, completely spent. He tried to say something…but no words came out.

He glared at you. “…Yer gonna be so fuckin’ sorry fer that, darlin’.”

You weren’t impressed by his threat. You sat back calmly. Seeing him on his back like that, so helpless, filled you with complete satisfaction. You looked down at him, a smirk on your face. “Oh really, you’re gonna turn the tables on me now, are you ? Just a few moments ago you were pleading me for even one more little inch of me. So tell me, vampire, how exactly are you going to take your big revenge ?”

He suddenly pounced on you. He pushed you down on the bed with his body, pinning you underneath him. He was so angry, that animalistic look back on his face. His fangs were bared, and his face was mere inches from yours. He was glaring down at you, his breath labored, and he was still trembling. But then, his eyes went down and he grinned.

“Let’s see if ya like that, mo shíorghra…”

He then went straight between your legs and before you could stop him, he licked a strip. You gasped from surprise, and then tried to squirm away. You should’ve seen this coming, and yet you were caught completely off guard. You tried to push his face away, but he didn’t budge. He was pinning your thighs to the bed, and there was no way you could escape as his tongue pried you open. You had felt powerful up until this point, but now he was showing you how much that was an illusion. He wasn’t begging anymore. He was going to do whatever it took to show you just how little control you really had and that whatever control you had over him was because he allowed it. He looked up at you with those dark eyes and gave you a fiendish smile. You felt a shiver go up your spine, and you couldn’t look away from his gaze. He was gloating, enjoying every moment of this. You felt his hands tracing up your thighs, and then he pushed your legs even further apart.

“That’s it…just like that…spreadin’ yerself nice and open fer me, darlin’…Lemme show ye a good time.”

You tried to close your legs, but he held you in place…You were slowly realizing you had maybe bitten off more than you could chew. He then looked up at you from between your legs, and his eyes were so dark. All the meekness from before was gone. He was in control now, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“M’gonna take me time with ye, darlin’…” He grabbed your thighs and lifted them on his shoulders. “Now gimme everythin’ and don’t hold back. I’ll know.”

You looked down and saw him staring up at you with that intense gaze. It was a look of pure hunger, as if he had gone centuries without having enough to eat. You tried to control your breathing, tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t. Your legs were shaking, and you gripped the sheets. He was powerful…he was dangerous…and he had you praying for your salvation. He held onto your legs, keeping you steady as he slowly ran his tongue over your lower lips. His eyes were locked onto yours the whole time, and you felt gooseflesh go up your body just from the feeling of his tongue. He ran it across your skin, leaving a trail of damp heat and you bit your arm to stop the screams.

He then chuckled.

“All those memories in me head of sex and tastes and sensations…But ye know what ? You’re the first person I’ll be able to use me new skills on.” He looked up at you and his eyes lit up. “…Or ye would like someone else ? Is this body attractive enough to ye, baby ? I could always ask fer another…Stack is rather handsome. Bo as well…We’re all the same. We’re all part of the hive. I could ask them. They wouldn’t mind.”

You had so many thoughts running through your mind. You couldn’t even begin to process this. He was a monster…he was a vampire…but he was also making you feel a lot of things at the moment…and your body would not let you forget that. You felt your heartbeat getting faster, your temperature going up. He knew he was getting to you. He could probably smell it. Then why ? Why would he ask this ?

You looked down and saw the way he was looking at you. Then it hit you. Remmick had lived a long life, but his body would never change—not really. He was short, pale and sickly-looking. He had mentioned that he had tried to attract ‘warm ones’ before with no success. So perhaps in the past his mistresses had asked him for favours such as this. But you did not want to. You shook your head. “…No. I…don’t want another…I want you.”

He looked up at you, a slight surprise on his face. He wasn’t expecting to hear that. “Oh ?”

He was still holding on to your thighs. He was trying to keep his composure, but this time, you had surprised him. He stayed there, his expression curious. You stared into his eyes—panting. He stared back at you, his expression slightly unsure. He was supposed to be in control now…he had you right where he wanted you…but then you had to go and say something like that. He studied your face, looking for some hint of a lie, some hint that you were just telling him what he wanted to head. But he found none. You meant what you said.

For a moment, his smile seemed genuine as he gave it to you before he decided to suck and lick on your nub to make you come. He wanted to see what other sounds he could pull from your mouth. You had surprised him, and it made him hungry for more. He was getting more and more aggressive now, his tongue working over your skin with an inhumane intensity.

You couldn’t take this much longer. Your body was trembling, your mind was going blank…

Meanwhile, Remmick was putting the effort to get you there. He had never had anyone want this body—his body. He had tried to get the warm women to look his way—but this body never seemed to interest them. But you…You writhed under him, your body trembling as he continued to lick and suck. He knew just the right spots to touch, just the right tempo to make you lose your mind. He was driving you to ecstasy…and you didn’t care about anything else. You wanted more, more…You felt yourself teetering on the edge. You were so close, you just needed a little more. You were getting lost in the pleasure he was driving you into. It was all you could think about…He wanted you so badly…and he wanted to watch you come apart.

“C’mon, me pet. C’mon.” He encouraged you. Every brush of his tongue was like a jolt of electricity, taking you higher and higher…you couldn’t take much more. He was pushing you to your limit…he was so good at this. So good…it was like he was made for this. Your hand found itself in his hair. Not to grip, but to wordlessly stroke his dark curls…

He gasped, clearly not expecting that. He looked up at you, a small moan escaping as you ran your hand through his hair. It was such an intimate gesture, so unexpected…he almost lost his focus for a moment and looked up at you to ask again. “…Lemme in. Lemme in, me darlin’.”

His voice was like honey…and it was going straight to your brain. You knew what he was doing to you. He was trying to break you down…to get you to do what he wants. He was trying to make you give in to your primal instincts, ignoring consequences. He kissed your inner thigh.

“…Grá mo chroí. Gimme a home between yer legs. Please.”

You felt another rush of heat at his words. His accent, coupled with that honeyed voice, was like a spell. He knew he had you…he could smell your arousal, and it was driving him wild. His tongue continued to assault you, making you delirious. He was trying to break you down, to get you to throw away all sense of reason.

He looked up at you with those dark eyes.

“…Say ‘yes.’ Just say it. Invite me in, me darlin’.”

His command was like a shot of adrenaline… your mind was screaming to say no…but your body was begging for more. You could feel yourself coming undone. You knew if you said no, he would stop, and the thought filled you with frustration. His licks were getting more deliberate, more demanding. He knew exactly how to work you up, how to break you down. It was like he was playing a symphony, and your body was his instrument.

He looked up at you with those dark eyes, and you could see the hunger in them. He growled, his voice raw with need. “Say it.”

You felt like you were losing your mind. His licks and his touches…his voice…all of it was driving you mad. You were so close…you couldn’t think straight anymore. You felt the words leave your lips before you could stop them.

“Yes ! Yes…”

You heard a low, victorious chuckle come from his throat. He knew he had won. He couldn’t believe that he had actually got you to say yes…he had finally broken you down. He had a satisfied look on his face, an expression of sheer triumph. He was finally getting what he wanted. And he wasn’t gonna waste it. His tongue thrust into you and you cried out in pleasure. Your body was his now, and nothing could stop him. He was no longer asking permission. He was going to have you, in every way possible. His eyes were almost glowing with hunger, looking like that of a wild animal. You felt like he was about to eat you alive.

His hands were gripping your thighs with such strength, it almost hurt. His fingers would probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care. You wanted this…you needed this.

His eyes shone wickedly, and you could see a hint of the animal inside him. This was an older, darker part of himself. Once you came, he did not stop. He kept shoving his tongue inside you…collecting the blood from your broken hymen. When you felt his tongue finally slide out of you, you let out a gasp. You were so overwhelmed, so sensitive…you didn't think you could handle any more.

But he wasn't finished with you yet.

He looked up at you, his mouth glistening with your juices. His expression was dark, almost feral. There was a hunger in him that wouldn't be satisfied…a hunger that wouldn't be sated, no matter how much he took from you.

He climbed up your body to face you completely.

“Táim ag dul chun do scriosadh…” He smirked before slowly entering you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you gasped. You felt him slide inside you, and it was like nothing you could have imagined. He filled you completely, and it felt so good…so right. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he tried to be slow and steady. He was trying to control himself, trying to keep it together…but it was obvious it was taking everything he had. The same words were whispered into your ear, low and rough. “Táim…ag dul chun do scriosadh, mo shíorghra.”

Once he was all the way inside you, he started moving, slowly at first, but his pace quickened with each stroke as drool ran down his chin and he closed his eyes. He was enjoying himself and it showed. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of being inside you. He was still trying to be gentle, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. He was getting rougher with each movement. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, and you could hear him murmuring things in his language that you couldn’t quite make out.

Then you heard him bite out the words, “I'm going to destroy you, me sweet one. Yer life is no longer yers. I’m goin’ to take yer life and ye will be here with me ‘till yer soul no longer goes up to the heavens without me corpse…wrapped around ya.”

He was getting more desperate now, his pace picking up…he was losing any self-control he had left. He was murmuring in his native tongue…a stream of words and curses you couldn't understand. But you could still make out the way he was calling you ‘m'aingeal’ and you could hear the way he said ‘ag dul chun do scriosadh’ repeatedly. He grabbed on to you, his fingers leaving marks all over you. He was losing himself in you. And that’s where you heard it…He growled and whimpered like an animal when he came deep inside you. He nuzzled your neck and his mouth opened. He wanted to bite you…but he restrained himself and only kissed your skin instead.

You came alongside him and you thought you might pass out. He was breathing heavily now, trying to catch his breath. He was still buried deep inside you, and you could feel his heart pounding. It was a strange feeling, hearing his heart beating—and then you realised it was yours you were hearing.

He then let out a low laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he had done. It was like he had just discovered fire, and now he didn’t know if he should use it, or if he should put it out.

“Mo chuisle…” He called you, and it was like a confession. But you knew better. You hesitated before flattening his hair to the side to look into his eyes. He swallowed heavily, his expression filled with confusion. You had broken the spell, and now he was slowly coming back to himself. It was like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. But you could see the hint of darkness still lurking behind his expression, like a shadow just lurking around the edges of his mind.

You smiled and felt tears in your eyes. “You were meant to be beautiful…Remmick.”

He looked at you, surprised at the tears in your eyes. His expression softened, and he took your face in his hand.

“Are ye cryin’ fer me, darlin’ ?” He asked, and there was a hint of shock in his voice…as if he never thought someone would cry over him before. Your heart squeezed in your chest.

“You look so young…You love music…You love to be loved. But you were so lonely…You could have been so wonderful. But then…All that changed…because you wished to have a family again.” You sighed and pressed your forehead against his. “…I am sure your heart used to be so full.”

He was taken aback by your words, and he looked at you with surprise—almost fear. It was like you had looked deep into his heart and seen things that he had hoped no one would ever know. He was speechless, completely caught off guard…he didn’t know what to say…He swallowed heavily, his face twisted by an emotion you couldn’t name. He didn't know what to make of you…you had seen so much…you understood so much. It was unsettling and comforting all at once…

He took a deep, shaky breath, and he managed to croak out a word.

“…Darlin’…”

You stroked his cheek.

“…To the ones who made you decide to change, I wish an eternity in hell for taking a bright light away from this world. I have never met a man like you. And yet, your way of seeing your hive as a family, caring for your children as you do, singing and dancing…I know you used to be so beautiful. And it hurts me to know that nobody had the courage to see you as such and to tell you.”

His eyes locked onto yours. He let out a low breath, and the words came out of him like a whisper.

“…But I am still beautiful…right, me chuisle ?”

You hesitated. He was watching you closely, waiting for your answer. His face was still so close to yours, and he was still holding onto you. He seemed almost desperate…like he needed you to say he was beautiful. There was a moment of silence, and he finally spoke again.

“…Darlin’…Please. Call me beautiful.”

Your eyes watered. “I wish I could…Parts of you are still beautiful but…”

His face fell, and his expression darkened. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the hurt from centuries of loneliness, of rejection, of being seen as a monster. He was silent, trying to hide his emotions. He looked away, and the moment was gone. But still…he was clinging on to you, like a drowning man holds on to driftwood.

You couldn’t help but hold him too.

“…It would be so easy to hate you. So easy. But at the same time, it would feel so wrong. For I know it is not entirely your fault that you are the way you are.”

He let you hold him, his face pressed into your neck. He was still trembling, his breathing ragged. He was in a state of shock. He had been shattered, stripped down to his foundation…and now he was a mess. He inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of you…he took comfort in your gentle touch. You looked at him, and you saw just how broken he was. It was like you held this wild creature in your arms, and suddenly he was just…broken. He was a wreck…he needed comfort, but he had been so alone for so long, that he couldn't even let himself ask for it.

His words came out as a shaky whisper, and he was holding you for dear life.

“Ye should not say such things to me…I should turn ye fer sayin’ them.”

You stared at him, and you saw the anguish in his eyes. He looked like he was at war with himself, the monster and the man fighting for control. And suddenly, you realized something. He was begging for an excuse to let go. He was holding on as long as he could, but you could see the battle he was fighting. You saw the man who had lived for over half a millennia…the man who had seen so much, and lived through things that should have killed him.

You saw a glimpse of the tortured soul behind the monster. You could see the torment he was going through, the internal struggle he was trying to contain. His body was so tense, every muscle wound up tight, his eyes staring at you with a desperation you had never seen before. He wanted a way out. All he had to do…was give in to his baser impulses. And just…bite you. You were just here. He knew you had no way to resist. You could see the pain behind his eyes, the torment of the conflict raging inside of him. He was trying so hard to hold himself back…he was trying to fight the urge, but it was getting harder and harder. He let out a low moan, sounding tortured. Every muscle in his body was tense, his body shaking with the effort of holding back. He wanted to bite you. He needed to feed. You were right there…he could do it.

Your heart sped up, and you could feel the tension in the air. He was so close, and you knew if he lost control, there would be no stopping him. He let out a ragged breath, and his eyes had that feral look in them.

He looked at you…and you saw the look in his eyes was predatory. “…Tell me one reason…why I shouldn’t turn ye…”

You smiled sadly at him. “If I was a part of your hive…my soul would go. And I would be just like any other of your children…hollow. My blood would be gone, and so would be my humanity.”

He let out a breath, and you could see the moment he realized you were right. He knew what it meant to turn you. He knew it would consume you—body, mind, and soul. He was left with the reality of the situation….what he wanted, and what he could not have. He suddenly snarled and stood back up.

“I need to feed. Stay here. Do not leave this room !”

He turned away, got his clothes back on and you could see the anger suddenly consume him. He was furious. At himself, at you, at the whole situation. It was like a switch had flipped. He no longer looked human.

He made his way to the door, and he paused before passing through. It seemed like he was about to tell you something, but reconsidered. The door slammed behind him, and you were left with your thoughts. You laid down on the bed and started fidgeting.

Was that your life now ?

———————————————————————

You were left in that dark room…alone with your thoughts. You tried laying down on the bed, but you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Your mind was racing, your feelings all jumbled up. You felt completely overwhelmed. You hadn’t even known him for more than a few weeks, and yet your life had completely changed. You tried to take a deep breath and relax, but you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what had just happened…and what it all could mean.

You suddenly heard screams…You covered your ears and tried not to cry.

You sat there in the dark, trying to ignore the horrible sounds outside. You wanted to tell yourself it was just your imagination…but you couldn’t stop hearing the desperate wails, and it was making you nauseous. You tried to drown out the sound, but they seemed to be everywhere. You pulled the pillows over your head, trying to block out the terrible sounds. You tried to remind yourself that you were safe here, in the room where he had left you. But you could still hear the screams…you could imagine what he was doing to whoever he was feeding on…Once he was fed, you heard the door opening behind you. He stood there. You didn’t turn around. You knew what you would see…

He was quiet, and you could feel his eyes on your back. There was silence…and you knew that he was watching you. You could vaguely smell the metallic scent of fresh blood…but you were afraid to turn around. You didn’t want to see what had happened, what he had done.

He spoke up, and his voice seemed quieter…almost tender.

“Darlin’…turn around.”

You didn’t and replied dismissively. “I am…tired. I think I will go to sleep now.”

He let out a low chuckle and walked closer, the sound of his footsteps getting louder.

“That right ?” he said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. “Don’t ye have any other words fer me, darlin’..? C’mon. The night’s still young. And I just got a burst of energy that I wanna spend ALL on ye."

You could feel him sitting down on the bed, and the weight of the mattress shifted underneath him. He laid down next to you, and the smell of blood got stronger. His hands were on your waist, and he curled himself up against your back. He was so close…You restrained the nausea that suddenly took over you and the need to throw up. He was holding you from behind, and he had now wrapped his arms around you.

“Mmmm…y’smell so sweet…” he murmured appreciatively. “…like honeysuckle and sunshine…”

You could feel his body pressed up against you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. His hand found your hair, and he curled his fingers in it. His other hand was trailing up your side, and his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“How about a second round, mo chuisle ? I am suddenly feelin’…extra affectionate.”

When you didn’t answer, he took offense and frowned.

“Don’t be silent now, me darlin’. Speak t’me…tell me what ye thinkin’ about at least…” Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt the urge to turn around. His hand was still in your hair, gently tugging at your locks/strands/curls. He was stroking your face with the other…and you could feel something hard and…substantial against your hip. “…Or maybe I should tell ya what I am thinkin’ about ?”

He was getting more and more handsy. His fingers were trailing over your body, tracing over your curves. He was holding you tight, his face buried into your neck. He was starting to kiss you, leaving a trail of hot kisses on your skin. One of his hands was tenderly fondling your breast. His hand found your jaw, and he gently twisted it to the right, so your head was facing him. He moved in and kissed you. But this time, his mouth was open, and his tongue was pushing past your lips. You were taken aback and the taste of blood made you physically recoil and gag. He seemed amused by this reaction, his hand on your chin preventing you from turning your face away. He broke away from the kiss, but he was still holding you there.

“What ? Ain’t me kisses to yer likin’ anymore, darlin’…? They seemed to suit ye just fine earlier.”

You could taste the coppery flavor of blood in your mouth. “Remmick. Remmick please…I do not like the taste.”

His expression darkened as you said that, and he seemed to get annoyed. “Yer tellin’ me no…?”

He looked down at you, his eyes blazing. “Ain’t I got the right t’kiss ye how I want ?”

You winced. “The taste…Please. Just wash your face.”

He looked down at you, his expression hardening. He was clearly annoyed, and he took a moment to breathe deeply. He sat up and got off of you. He seemed angry, and he stood there for a moment, his body tense.

He was quiet for a moment, and then he just left the room. You heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on. You sighed in relief. You heard the water running in the bathroom, and you could finally relax. You sat on the bed, trying to collect your thoughts. Your mind was still reeling from what had happened. You spat in a bassin nearby…He then came back from the bathroom, his face looking clean enough.

“How do I look now, me darlin’ ?” He asked with a smile.

You tried to keep your expression neutral. You still had the bitter aftertaste of blood in your mouth, and it was making you feel sick.

“…Fine. You look fine.”

His grin widened and he took a few dancing steps forward—a clumsy attempt to make you laugh. He was trying to be light-hearted, and it somehow worked a little. You couldn’t help but let out a smile…He suddenly stopped, noticing that you smiled at him. But then he smiled again and grabbed his fiddle to start a song.

“In the emerald fields, where our love's tale begins, Where the green rolling hills lead all hearts to mend, I found my home in my true love’s embrace, In the land of Ireland, beyond time and space.

Oh, Irish love a flame that forever glows, With a passion to vanquish all gallant foes, In the warmth of your touch, my soul is reborn, Our love, like Ireland, forever adorned.

Underneath the moonlit sky the banshee may wail, But we pay no mind as we dance through the gale Whispers of love carried on the Irish breeze, Our spirits more wild than tempestuous seas…”

You couldn't help but smile at his words…his singing was rough and a little off key, but it was charming in its own way. You could hear the passion in his voice, and you realized that this was something he loved.

He took your breath away, the way he sang to you. The song was a mixture of sweet and wild…it was like hearing the voice of the Irish landscape singing through him. It was beautiful, and it was strange…like a song that touches your very heart.

He continued as he danced around the room and smiled.

“…Through the fields of Athenry, we'll wander hand in hand, Where British army soldiers no more will walk this land Our love it will endure, through battles fierce and long My life is yours forever more, through conflict I’ll be strong

Oh, Irish love a flame that forever glows, With a passion to vanquish all gallant foes, In the warmth of your touch, my soul is reborn, Our love, like Ireland, forever adorned.

But now I must bid thee a lover’s goodbye To battle I go for to free Erin’s Isle Our hearts, my love, always aligned In this Irish love song, forever enshrined.”

He was singing with passion and dancing in tandem. He was in his element, and it was clear that he loved being able to perform for you. He was a completely different person when he was dancing and singing…it was like he was completely lost in the moment. Every movement seemed to be filled with joy. He was completely in the moment, fully alive, like his very soul was being filled with happiness.

Seeing him like this…it was beautiful. There was a light in his eyes that was breathtaking. You felt your heart open up at that moment, as you watched him give into the music and let himself be completely happy. It was so unlike the dark, dangerous man you had seen just moments before. It was like two different people…but the same.

Tears fell from your eyes as he sang, not because you were sad, but because you were moved by the beauty of his words. You could feel the deepness and the pain of the lyrics, and you realized that this song was a part of him.

He finished singing, and he looked at you with a look of deep affection. He looked like he couldn’t believe that you were there, listening to him. He walked over to you and took your face in his hand.

“Look at ye, lassie. Cryin’ over a lil’ song meant to cheer ye up ! Silly filly…”

You tried to laugh and wipe the tears from your eyes. It was true. You were crying over his song. It was just a song…but it seemed like so much more than that. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. He kissed the top of your head, and he rested his chin there.

“…Me darlin’ lassie…did I get to ye ? Forgive me. ‘Twas just a song.” There was affection in his voice…a tenderness to his touch…it was so different from the way he had acted before. “…Yer tears ain’t what I was lookin’ for, darlin’. I ain’t here to make ye sad. What should I do, then…to get ye smilin’ at me again, hmm ?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was such a silly question…You looked up at him and smiled.

“…Just sing me another song, okay ?”

There was a light in his eyes at the sound of your laughter. He was relieved. You could feel his body relaxing as he held you, as if he had been wanting to hear your laugh the entire time. He gave you a sly grin, and he ran his hand over your hair.

“Another song, eh ? Ye liked that one so much that ya want another ?” He pretended to think about it before grinning. “A’right ! But this time, I want ye to sing long ! Lemme hear yer pretty voice…”

You gave a bashful laugh, wiping the lingering tears from your cheeks. “Sing along ?” you echoed, your voice still a little shaky from the wave of emotions. “I don’t even know the words…”

He scoffed playfully, sitting upright with a dramatic gasp. “Then I s’pose I’ll have to teach ye, won’t I ?” He gave the fiddle a little tune, plucking a few strings and humming thoughtfully as he worked out a melody.

“You’ll catch on quick,” he promised with a wink. “It’s just a bit o’ nonsense…but I promise it’ll stick.”

And then, with a little flourish and a grin like a devil on a mission, he launched into the next tune—faster this time, jauntier. A playful rhythm that felt like springtime in a pub full of laughter and spilled ale.

“Oh, I met a bonnie lass down by the shore, She said, ‘Sing for me once and I’ll ask for no more !’ So I sang her a song, and I danced her a reel, And now she’s stolen my heart like a thief in the field !”

He pointed to you on the last line, waggling his brows dramatically, and you laughed out loud before you could stop yourself.

“Ohhh the lass with the eyes like the sea after storm, Her temper is fierce, but her heart’s kind and warm ! If she’d let me, I’d kiss her and call her me bride, But she’s likely to punch me and run off to hide !”

You burst into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth, and he looked delighted beyond words. His eyes sparkled as he leaned in close, coaxing you with his grin.

“C’mon, lass. Join me on the chorus. It’s easy !”

He slowed just enough for you to follow.

“So hey-ho, my wild Irish rose, With cheeks like fire and fists like blows, I’ll love her ‘til my dyin’ day, If she don’t chase me away !”

You sang the last line with him—nervously, out of tune, but with laughter catching in your throat. He beamed like a fool, proud as ever.

“See ? That’s it !” He winked again, this time more gently, brushing your hair from your face as the final note died off.

You looked up at him, cheeks warm from singing, from laughing, from feeling again. And for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, close and quiet. Something delicate hung in the air between you—soft as lace and just as easily torn.

He tilted his head, eyes roaming your face like he was memorizing you. “Y’know,” he murmured, voice low now, “I think I like this version of ye best. All lit up and laughin’.”

Your breath caught slightly at the honesty in his tone. You reached for his hand—tentative, unsure—but he met you halfway and laced his fingers through yours. He then pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, his free hand still holding the fiddle between you. And outside, the world was quiet. Just the faint hum of the night and the echo of his song still lingering in the corners of the room.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful this was—this moment. He slowly put his hand on your waist. He was looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time. He whispered words in Gaelic, but his voice was soft and it was like he was just speaking to himself. You couldn’t understand what he was saying. The language was unfamiliar to you, but the way he said it…it was as if he was speaking a prayer.

He was looking at you with a different look in his eyes. He kept his hand on your waist, and he gently pulled you closer, putting his other hand on your chin and tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in and gently captured your mouth in his, and the kiss was so tender.

You closed your eyes. The kiss was soft, like he was scared you might break if he pressed too hard. It was a completely different kiss from the ones he had given you before. It was careful and thoughtful, like touching something precious and delicate. He was gently cradling your face in his hand, and tracing your features with his fingertips.

“Yer mine, right lassie ?”

You looked up at him, completely stunned by the pleading tone in his voice. His dark eyes were boring into you, and he was waiting for you to respond.

But then he pressed gently on your waist with his hand—insisting. “Right ?”

Your eyes fluttered and you suddenly had a moment of clarity. What was happening to you ? You had been kidnapped just nights before, and now…you were in the arms of the monster who had stolen your life away. And yet, you couldn’t seem to find the will to deny him.

You swallowed heavily and looked straight into his eyes as you finally replied. “Yes, I am.”

He let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes, like he was thanking the universe for its gift. His hand was still on your chin, and he held you there for a moment, like he was savoring the moment. He then smiled and kissed your jaw.

“…Good. ‘Cause am yers too now, a ghrá.”

[valleydolli]

Only You | Chapter Four

CW𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…)

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Three | Chapter Five

𝜗𝜚 WC: 3.5k

You fell asleep instantly, drooling a little on his chest, but why would he mind? He's been dreaming of this since he met you. He can’t stop stroking your hair, your face, your body. He's just so happy to be able to touch you. 

You’re a deep sleeper; deep enough that he was able to open your phone and put a tracker on it. As if the cameras all around your apartment weren't enough. Now he’ll really know what you’re doing 24/7. He scours through everything, your messages, your photos, emails. He didn’t miss a thing. He was most interested in your messages with that neighbour of yours… Satoru. Or ‘Toru 💕’ as you saved him under. You gave Sukuna the same heart, just without the nickname. Is he not deserving of one? You call him 'Kuna' all the time. Do you still call him 'Toru?

He continues to scroll further up your messages stumbling across something he’s not sure if he should be happy to see or fucking livid since you didn’t send them to him. It’s a photo of your nude self asking him to come over… you’re sexting each other. He takes a moment, taking in a deep breath. You didn’t know each other yet, this was two years ago. The two of you have been close. He’s not sure if the close was a relationship or just fucking. There’s no “I love yous,” no indication of the two of you dating at all. Either or the feeling sucks. He thought he’d be your first, but he guesses that’s out the window. He has to hope you’re not fucking Satoru now. 

Hopefully. 

It’s 3:00 am now, and he still hasn’t taken a moment to not stare at your sleeping body.  His sleeping beauty. Not Satoru’s, not Ren’s, not that ugly bastard from the club. 

His. 

Maybe in a month, he could ask you to be his? 

Officially. 

You already belong to him in his eyes. He might as well start telling people you’re his girlfriend. You sigh deeply, moving from Sukuna's chest onto your back. Your lips are swollen and plump, as if you were kissed… He could kiss you, right?

Just a small peck… a small… peck.

He carefully leans down, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, and it twitches a little like a bunny rabbit. Which causes him to smile slightly, letting out a quiet airy laugh. He carefully brushes his lips against yours before pressing into them softly. 

A small whimper creeps from his lips before pulling away. 

Shit. 

God, he wants to kiss you again. 

But his dick is so hard it hurts. He feels so dirty, but there’s a voice in his head telling him to do it again.

Just once more.

So he does just that, pecking your lips once more. Sucking lightly on your bottom lip. Do you sleep this deeply every night? Or is it because you were drinking?

“Fuck… Love you, I love you so much.” He whimpers softly against your lips. 

He needs to cum so fucking bad. 

You start to move again, flipping onto your stomach, face squished against the pillow. Sukuna runs the tip of his fingers across your lips. 

“I’ll have you sooner than later, I swear,” he whispers.

He looks away from you, looking down at the… problem you caused. Should he do it here or be a good man and leave? He continues to play with your bottom lip while he thinks. Rubbing at his erection while you soundly sleep next to him.

“For fuck sake.” 

He quickly leaves the guest room, heading to his own room to relieve himself. 

He sits at the end of his bed, slightly pulling down his boxers, feeling the pleasurable tightness around his swollen tip. He closes his eyes, imagining you in front of him, kneeling so obediently. Like the good girl you are. Wrapping your perfect lips around his swollen tip. Tightly jerking at his length—

“Mmph!” He covers his mouth, quickly spurting out heaps of his cum all over his boxers. That might have been the fastest he’s ever cum. Or was it when he touched himself in your room?  

15 seconds. 

Damn.

Will he last that long when he slides into you? God, he thinks he’ll die of embarrassment if he does. He’s now wondering how long you’ll stay for and if or when you’ll come back again. The only reason you’re here right now is because of that piece of shit, jackass that was harassing you. He’s still thinking of what he’s going to do with him. Little did that asshole know, Sukuna swiped his wallet, and of course, his ID conveniently had his address. He’s about 30 minutes away from the two of you.  Far, but close enough. Too close for his liking. 

Jogo. 

What’s with all these guys harassing you, having the worst names? Fuck, he hates them. He might hate both of them more than you. 

He’ll deal with all this another time, not now. He needs to get back to you and soak in the fact that you’re sleeping in his penthouse right now. 

He changes his boxers before walking back into the room you’re peacefully sleeping in. Slipping in next to you, pulling you onto his chest. As if he didn’t just masturbate across the hallway because he kissed you. 

He hopes you’ll stay for a while in the morning. It’s a Sunday, you can’t be that busy, and he doubts you’d want to be at home alone right now. He shuts his eyes, praying that when he wakes up, you’ll still be next to him. 

——

You wake up on a hard surface. That hard surface being Sukuna’s chest. There are prickly hairs across it, scratching your face slightly. You examine the tattoos across his entire body. Bands around his arm and torso, other markings on his chest. Incredible. You carefully run your fingers along each tattoo, completely forgetting he’s trying to sleep, until you feel him grasp your arm, causing you to jump. His eyes are still closed as if he were asleep, but he questions your actions. “What’re you doing?” His voice is deep and sleepy, startling you. 

“I umm knew you had tattoos, but I never properly paid attention to them. I love them.”

Sukuna opens his eyes, watching you continue to trace his tattoos. “When did you get them?” You ask, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat quicken. You see him hesitate before answering you. “When I was 17. My dad has a few of the same too. Guess it’s a family thing.” 

He’s lying to you, by the way. He got them in prison. They’re prison tattoos. In the Edo period in Japan, they would mark criminals with these tattoos. Though it’s not the Edo period, Sukuna Itadori is most definitely a criminal.

But you don’t need to know that.

“I love them, they suit you,” you smile. “I kind of want some tattoos myself.” Sukuna frowns slightly. Which causes your brows to furrow. “No, you don’t think I’ll suit any tattoos?”

“You’re already perfect, why ruin yourself with meaningless ink? You’re like a blank canvas,” he explains as he lightly brushes your arm. “That’s beautiful to me.” You stare at him with gleaming eyes. He thinks you're beautiful. You quickly push your face into the crevice of his neck, your cheeks hurt because you can’t stop smiling. You hear him chuckling before questioning you. “What’s wrong? Are you shy?” You slowly nod your head before sitting back up, facing Sukuna. His maroon eyes are scanning your face until he reaches your lips.

He wishes he could kiss you again.

Properly.

Before he can speak again, you slam your lips onto his, shocking Sukuna completely. Did you really just do that, or is he still sleeping? He pinches his thigh, feeling the tight sting on his skin. You actually just kissed him. He moves you on top of him, slightly grinding you onto him. Heaven, he’s in heaven. Your tongues are dancing with one another, getting hungrier for one another by the second. He should stop you. He can't control himself. You do too much for him, he’s gonna—  A groan rumbles from Sukuna’s throat. 

He stiffens. 

He might just end his life. 

You slowly detach your lips from his before looking down at his wet boxers. You don’t even know that this is the second pair he’s changed into. God, what the fuck is wrong with him?

“‘m sorry,” he mutters, while not looking at you. You’re still on top of him which he doesn’t mind at all, but he’s really, really fucking embarrassed right now. You place your hands on his warm cheeks, which prompts him to open his eyes, finding you smiling at him. Not a mocking smile, a comforting one. “Don’t be embarrassed, that’s honestly a compliment to me if you think about it.” You place a soft kiss on his lips, rolling off his body. He’s still as red as a tomato. 

“Do you have a spare toothbrush I can use?” 

He doesn’t respond; he just nods his head, confirming your question. So you sit up, grabbing his hand, telling him to show you. After you both brushed your teeth, Sukuna is still on edge because;

One. He doesn’t want you to leave. 

Two. He came in his pants from kissing you. 

“Erm, do you want me to make you breakfast?” 

Yes, angel say yes. 

“Umm, I need to let Himiko get her things. I’ve got to get back.” 

Fuck.

“I’ll take you.” He says, not giving you the chance to reply, grabbing his keys and guiding you out the door. 

“I can make us breakfast at your place after she leaves?” He quickly tells you.

“Y-yeah okay, sounds good.”

“Perfect, let’s go.”

——

You walk up the steps to your apartment with Sukuna stomping behind you. The two of you come into view of your apartment door, finding Himiko leaning against your door with messy hair and smudged makeup. She hears your footsteps immediately turning her head towards you, running to hug you. “Oh, I’m so so sorry! I was drunk, stupid, careless. All of the above, but I can’t lose you, please, I love you so much.” She’s hugging you tightly, sniffling slightly into your neck, while stroking your waist gently. You don’t know what to say. But the tall man behind you has plenty to. Surely you don’t believe this bullshit ass apology. And why is she touching you like you’re her girlfriend or something? Himikos’ face lifts from your neck, staring dead into Sukuna’s eyes. She scowls at him. Why the fuck did she just– “Do you forgive me?” she asks as she instantly changes her facial expression for you. “It’s fine, Himi, I’m over it already.” 

Angel, You're a damn pushover... 

You kiss her cheek before letting her go. She’s slightly blushing from your little gesture. You turn behind around, pulling Sukuna closer towards her to properly introduce him. “This is Sukuna, Himi. Sukuna, this is Himiko. Let’s pretend this is the first time you guys are meeting, okay?” Sukuna’s face is blank, he really does not like this girl. Will he have to be around her more often when the two of you start dating? She seems clingy. He wants her gone, but he can’t get rid of your apparent “best friend.” 

“Nice to meet you… Himiko,” he mutters bluntly. “Yeah, you too,” she also replies back bluntly.

You look between them, sensing the awkwardness from a mile away. 

“Well, um, lemme let you get your stuff.” 

You open your front door, letting the two into your house. Himiko skipping inside and Sukuna, of course, letting you in before him. “Is it okay if I shower quickly? It'll be 5 minutes. Just don’t… kill each other,” you say as you eye the two of them, you can wholeheartedly tell that they don’t like each other already. Sukuna because of what she did yesterday, and Himiko? Well, Himiko is always like this. Anytime there’s a guy you like, she immediately hates him. Never giving them a chance. Not one. According to her, “no one deserves you.” “You’re too good for them.” Was she right? sometimes? Yes, but she cannot do this with Sukuna.

Ever.

Sukuna takes a seat on your sofa, making himself comfortable, waiting for you, while Himiko… was collecting her things from your room. He’s watching her from his phone, of course.

She’s strange. She’s snooping around in your room, freak. Who does that? 

…

Nevermind. 

You make your way out of the shower, running into Himiko lying comfortably on your bed. She says your name as if she’s about to tell you off. “I don’t like him.”

Shocker. 

You roll your eyes, taking your towel off, and applying your lotion. Ignoring your negative Nancy of a friend. “Are you listening to me? He looks like a criminal. And why has he got such an angry face? What’s he mad about?”

“Himiko? Do you not get tired of this? Every time I like a guy, you act like this, it’s exhausting.” 

“It's exhausting for me, too. I just want you to be with someone who’ll take care of you. Does he even have a good job? I mean, he has a nice car, but anyone can these days.” You stare at her from the mirror of your vanity, sighing deeply. You turn to her, telling her what Sukuna does for a living. “He has a great job, he has a great apartment, he’s a good guy. Himi and I actually really like him. Plus, he protected me yesterday when you left me.”

“You said you were over it,” she murmured. 

“I’m over it, meaning I forgive you, but I’m not just going to forget, I mean it hasn’t even been 24 hours.” She gets up from your bed, wrapping her arms around your shoulder, turning your head to face her. “I am sorry, okay. I would never want anything like that to happen to you. I was stupid.” She’s gently caressing your cheek with her thumb, resting her forehead against your own. 

Sukuna is, of course, witnessing all of this, and he’s livid. She’s clearly in love with you. God, he’s in love with you too, but you are so damn blind. 

“Himi, I really like him, seriously, and I would really, truly appreciate you getting along with him, I mean, what if we get married, are you still gonna hate him then?”

“You’re thinking about marrying him already?” She says with a disgusted look on her face.

“I’m just saying it as a hypothetical, but I don’t want to date just to date, I want to fall in love, get married, have kids. How can I do that when you scare all the guys I meet away?”

“Just give him a chance, if you love me, you’ll do that for me.” 

“…Fine.” 

It takes 20 minutes for the two of you to come out of your room, 15 minutes longer than you promised, but it’s not your fault; you’re being distracted by your secret admirer. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you say, giving him a peck on the lips. He goes to reply, but nothing comes out. 

This is you guys’ second kiss— no third. What will the fourth be like? Or the 20th? Will he count every single one? 

Most probably, yes.

“Sukuna… I’m leaving… and I hope you guys have a good… Sunday. Goodbye.” 

She slams your front door, finally leaving the two of you alone. You place yourself on top of him giving him a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry about her. She always acts funny when I start seeing people. I don't know why.”

Because she wants you for herself, angel. 

“I don’t know, it’s weird, no? You should tell her to stop.”

“It’s fine, as long as she doesn’t do it with you. I really hope we have a long-lasting relationship.” 

Sukuna’s lips twitch into a small smile. “So do I.”

“I want to know more about you, and I want you to know more about me.”

He already knows nearly everything about you, but you genuinely know nothing about him. Do you need to know… everything?

“Hey, if you’re not ready to tell me things about you, I don’t mind waiting. Don’t stress.” 

“Thank you.” 

——

You and Sukuna have been seeing each other for almost two months now. Things are as great as can be. He brings you flowers at the beginning of every week. He picks you up from work with Yuji. He buys you crazy expensive gifts. And she showers you with the love and appreciation you’ve yearned for. He’s perfect. Now all you’re waiting for is for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. He’s told you he’s going to be busy this week with some cases at work he needs to go over, so you haven’t seen much of him, but you’re hoping that when you next see each other, he’ll finally ask you to be his. 

“Please, man, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing. I have a family, a wife, two boys.” Jogo struggles to speak out.

Sukuna has Jogo locked up in a cage in a storage unit that only he owns, miles away from the city, nearer to his family estate. No one knows he has this. It was supposed to be a place for him to relax and get away from his nagging family. But now it’s turned into something more sinister than that. For the past three days, Jogo has been held captive and tortured profusely for what he did to you that night. Cuts, lumps, and bruises all across his body. He told him he doesn’t forget a face, but it seems that Jogo was doubtful. He thought Sukuna was a stupid meathead sending out empty threats.

How wrong was he?

Sukuna followed Jogo for a good 5 days, collecting a lot of information about him. He does, in fact, have a wife and two boys. He’s also cheating on said wife with an intern at the office where he works at and she happens to be 30 weeks pregnant with his child. He paid her a hefty sum of money to terminate the pregnancy and disappear, but she, of course, said no, took the money, and left the country. He’s a regular at Kenjaku’s club, and it’s not his first time harassing young girls. Sometimes even more than that.

He's a repeated offender. 

Sukuna is doing God's work right now. This guy doesn’t deserve to walk on the same planet you reside on, let alone breathe the same air you do. Why the fuck would he allow it. Every person who harms you should be taken out of the equation.

Reduced to none.

He will continue to remove any danger that crosses your path. Ren, Jogo, anyone. 

“Jogo, I already know a lot about you. Did I tell you that?”

“I—“

“I know you’re married with kids and a baby on the way. But wait, that baby isn’t your wife’s baby, it’s your mistress’s, right? A bastard.” 

“I know.” He mutters

“Oh, you know? Do you know your wife knows now, too? You have so much proof on that phone of yours. I didn’t even need to do much, I just sent her all she needed to see.” 

Sukuna picks up a letter from the table behind him, opening the small door on the front of the box, and placing it in for Jogo to take. Before closing the door, Jogo immediately tries to open the one on his side. 

Sukuna tuts. 

“It doesn’t work like that. It only opens when I close my side.”

Sukuna closes his side, telling Jogo to open his and read the letter that was sent to him. “Go on, open it,” Sukuna tells him as he takes a seat, largely grinning. “Don’t keep me waiting, I wanna know what it says. Read it to me.” Jogo rips open the large envelope, skimming through the first few lines. He looks as if he saw a ghost. He looks up at Sukuna, who is still grinning as wide as the Cheshire cat. 

“Read it to me. I’m waiting. What is it?”

Jogos adam’s apple bobs. “It’s divorce papers.” 

“Good,  and what does it say on the uhh 10th row?” Sukuna points out.

Jogo counts down the rows, landing on the 10th. “I’ll have no assets...” 

Sukuna does a loud clap, pushing himself forward and walking towards the glass cage. “It’s fine, don’t worry. You’re not even gonna need any assets. I’m gonna kill you.”

“Wha— No!”

“Yes, I can’t have you walking around aimlessly. What if you run into her?”

“Run into who? My wife?”

“No, don’t be stupid. I don’t care about her. I’m talking about mine.” 

“Please, I was drunk, I-I don’t want to die.”

Sukuna walks into the cage, grabbing Jogo by the throat, slamming into the wall. Just like their first encounter. He whispers sinisterly in his face. 

“Being drunk isn’t a fucking excuse. I don’t care if you want to die. I’m sure every girl you assaulted didn’t want to be raped either but you did it anyway. You’re dirt on the bottom of my shoe.

You. Don’t. Deserve to live.” 

Sukuna looks down, noticing urine trickling down Jogos' leg. He’s scared. 

Good. 

He should be. 

“I’ll take my time with you, I can promise you that.”

𝜗𝜚 Authors Note: I think I have nothing to say. I sat outside in my garden finishing this. It was really nice very sunny. I got a lil tan :p

extra note: so like i got really distracted and i started playing overwatch and then i started watching an overwatch streamer and i was trying to read through this but i was so fucking distracted omg. so i’m sorry i took so long LMFAO i’m actually addicted.

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Three | Chapter Five

[pervoshi]

SENTRY!BOB . drabble

is this incredibly ooc? yeah a Little, however! it was worth soooo . . .

sentry, who has you pinned against the wall, one hand knuckles deep inside of you, the other covering your mouth so valentina can’t hear how loudly you’re whining out for him.

he couldn’t help himself, the way you so stupidly thought he wouldn’t find you hiding inside his tower? did you really find him that dumb?

the thunderbolts helplessly waiting for you to signal, not knowing you’re currently getting your insides rearranged by the man that not even a day ago was a fidgeting, anxious mess.

bob wasn’t bob anymore, he was someone else completely — someone you didn’t recognize.

“b—bob please—,”

“didn’t i say to call me sentry?”

right, this wasn’t bob at all actually, it was sentry, the almighty hero — well, as heroic as someone can be when their hand is down their ex-coworkers pants.

“not c—calling you that,”

“excuse me?”

bob— sentry’s free hand pressed into your neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep you check.

“you wanna try that again?”

god, he was hot.

too fucking hot that it was driving you insane.

“s—sentry, sentry!”

you had to speed this up, the sounds of your teammates worrying voices in your ear making you panic, knowing they’d start making their way up if you didn’t give a response.

sentry could see the way your eyes flickered between him, his hand in your pants, and the elevator just down the stairs.

it was cute, the way you tried to act scared when in reality this was exactly what you could ever hope for.

“you scared they’re gonna come up and see you like this—,”

he pushed his fingers further, curling them more, brushing right against your sweet spot.

“a mess, dripping all over me,”

you bit into your lip, hands curling into balls against the drywall, eyes closing as you tried so hard to swallow any moan clawing at your throat.

“no, don’t do that,”

sentry’s hand still on your neck slid up to pry open your mouth, keeping his thumb pressed against the plump of your bottom lip to keep it open.

“let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

it shocked you just how mouthy he was being, this confidence seemingly coming out of thin air.

maybe it was his ego talking, knowing just how much power he had now, especially over you, his strength reaching new heights he had no idea he possessed.

valentina did say he was as strong as god, so why not make the most of that?

“i think, after this mission,”

you felt him lift your head slightly, eyes now looking directly into his, a cynical grin on his face.

“i’ll keep you here with me, in this tower,”

his fingers sped up, now ramming into you at a pace you’d never experienced, your legs starting shake from the sensation.

“just so i can play with you whenever i want.”

“b—,”

sentry’s eyes flashed a deep yellow, a warning to you if you even uttered that name.

his thumb came up to lazily rub your clit, your body arching slightly as your impending release was slowly building, the warmth bubbling in your stomach.

“s—sentry, i’m—!”

“close? i can tell, she’s clenching around me.”

why did he have to be so cocky about it? it didn’t help how incredibly turned on it was making you —him, having so much control over you.

sentry’s hand, not on your cunt, moved to grope the flesh of your tits, pinching your nipples through the material of your suit.

“oh my go—!”

he chuckled, leaning his head forward so his lips were pressed right against your ear, teeth nipping at the skin ever so lightly.

“yeah, i am your god, aren’t i?”

holy fuck.

your orgasm washed over you like a wave, body shaking, eyes rolling, voice breaking as you flew your hand onto sentry’s wrist.

sentry could feel his cock straining against the annoyingly tight fabric of his suit, the way you so quietly whimpered out his name made him resist the urge to turn you around and fuck you right there.

“go—,”

an elevator ding, followed by the sound of valentina’s voice echoing through the room.

“how crazy is it to think of all the monumental fights that happened exactly here where you’re standing?”

he quickly pulled his fingers from you, looking at the sticky substance before raising them to you lips, pushing against them slightly.

“c’mon, open up.”

you let him slide them into your mouth, tongue licking away your slick from them, trying to hold back any noises that could slip from you.

sentry pulled them out quickly, hearing the thunderbolts move around, voices bickering with one another.

he gave your cheek a couple soft taps, taking a few steps away before turning back, eyes trailing over your fucked our body.

“guess you should clean up before going back down there, huh?”

this cheeky fucking bastard.

[mallory524]

Hii can I request John Walker (or Thunderbolts if u dont write for him) with a reader who like passes out if they overuse their powers?

tyy love ur headcanons!!

(I LOVE THIS!!)

always there for you

john walker x reader

tags- losing consciousness, canon level action/violence, teammates to lovers, comfort, implied no olivia (doesn't affect anything)

word count- 1020

notes- I am a proud John Walker girl and i straight up giggled when i saw I’d gotten a request for him😭(also you’re so sweet!! thanks!!)

The first time it happened during a mission, John thought you DIED. Even days later, he was still thinking about the moment he saw you collapse to the ground. He had rushed to your side in the midst of all the chaos and started frantically trying to find your pulse. Yelena had to tell him repeatedly that this happens to you sometimes, and that you just overdid it and you were fine. John figured she'd laugh at him for "overreacting", but she didn't. Yelena understood, and neither of them ever addressed the tears that had been in his eyes.

That whole incident forced John to address the very real feelings for you that he’d started to develop. You're so attractive and smart, and every time you use your powers, John's just mesmerized by how cool you look. He thought about you all the time, and those 40 seconds he was convinced he had lost you were terrifying. He didn't want you pushing yourself too hard like that again.

He kept worrying that all the energy you were exerting was hurting you. Whenever you guys were on missions, he’d be constantly glancing over at you to make sure you were doing okay. Sometimes he'd step in to help if he felt like you were trying to take on too much at once, even if you were handling things just fine.

As helpful as that all was, you misinterpreted it as John making fun of you. One night while putting your gear away, you noticed him closely watching you, like he was ready for you to collapse at any moment.

"Oh, cut it out, Walker."

"What are you talking-"

"I'm sorry I slowed us down that one time, it won't happen again. Geez," you had said. When you turned to meet his eyes, though, you were floored by the amount of real concern in them.

Instead of arguing back like he always does, John just sort of wearily throws his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I know you know what you're doing."

Things were different after that. You were both terrible at communicating with one another about your feelings. About 3 months later, you actually started being honest with each other and a relationship started!

Now, you don't feel like you always have to hide your affection or your concern for one another, because it's all out there in the open.

John is way more comfortable letting you know he worries about you than he was before. He has trouble with the words sometimes, but he shows it in little ways.

He washes your suit, awkwardly folds it, and leaves it on your bed the night before a mission. He fills up your water bottle and he makes sure you're getting enough to eat. He knows that if you overuse your powers, you'll pass out anyway and a balanced meal probably won't change that, but he figures it can't hurt. He's your biggest cheerleader, and everyone jokes that he's the one running the fan account they found that posts clips of you from the news and other public appearances. John says that “obviously” he doesn’t have time to run a fan account, but he does at least follow it.

Despite his constant reminders not to overdo it, it still happens. John’s always there to carefully scoop you up and take care of you for the rest of the day.

One night, you guys are way outnumbered, and John's trying to fight this guy who’s definitely been enhanced in some way.

John might be doing okay now, but he's getting tired and the man's started to get the better of him. He's far away from you, and this man is obviously powerful, so you're really going to need a lot of energy to hurl this guy out of the way. That's energy you don't really have.

More people are closing in on you and that man is starting to pummel John and the rest of your friends are getting ambushed too- it's too much. You know you’re running out of steam and now you're getting overwhelmed. You take a deep breath in, try to steady yourself, and you finish this. Your moves are intentional and carefully aimed in many directions, but anyone watching would just see one big burst of light that illuminates the dark street and ends the entire fight. When the dust settles, all of your adversaries are down, but so are you. You don't do that kind of thing often; it's too much at once, and it's too much on your body.

When you wake up, you're in the car, and John is tending to your injuries and Alexei high fives you, saying you did a great job.

You're injured, you can feel that, but you notice John's pretty roughed up, himself. "Are you okay?" you ask him quietly through a yawn.

"Oh yeah. I heal quickly, you know. That guy was just really strong. You're a lot stronger than I think you realize, too."

You wince upon hearing that, even though John's softly smiling at you and clearly not mad. "Yikes, sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire."

He just kisses your forehead.

"Don't apologize. But stop overworking yourself... and don't do that move again, it was terrifying."

"Well, stop trying to take on the scariest people we run into, that's terrifying," you say as you reach for the first aid kit to patch up a long cut on John's face, but he gently swats your hand away.

"No, get more rest. I'm fine. Lay back down. It's a long drive."

You don't even try to argue with him on this one. You're exhausted.

You know how the rest of tonight will go, too. John will make sure no one wakes you up again for the rest of the car ride, and then he'll carry you back into the tower and gently set you down on your bed. He'll be there for you in the morning to help you with anything you might need help with. He'll always be there for you. No matter what.

[towasdandelion]

Can you also make a part two with sinostra frostheim and mortkranken with hickey smau?

👉👈

Yes! Here it is, the last part basically hehe. Hope you like it! Warning suggestiveeee

Sinostra, Mortkranken and Frostheim ghouls when they leave a hickey on you

Taiga... Do I even have to say anything? He treats biting you like a full time job. And he doesn't care about his surroundings either. You can be minding your own business taking a walk around the campus and he will just appear out of nowhere and bite your neck, getting a very embarrassing sound out of you. Shame? Not in his dictionary. So yeah, don't expect him to take your whining seriously in any way. It's not going to change anything whatsoever. But hey, at least he's usually careful enough not to hurt you with his sharp teeth!

Romeo will literally lie through his teeth. He always says how unhygienic and weird it is and how he would never bruise your skin like that but then somehow, mysteriously some marks appear on your neck. Naturally you just had to confront him about it. And behold, there's your one in a million chance to see Romeo embarrassed. He's annoyed with himself. Why couldn't he just resist? What was so good about it that made him think about doing it again? Well, I advise against teasing him too much or he will legit get upset. If it happens again don't bring it up either. Just accept his love bites.

Ritsu hmm I guess he would sneak one in here and there when he's feeling extremely affectionate. Or when you two are studying and he catches a glimpse of your exposed neck. He's not really embarrassed about it either. It's just one of the ways to express his love after all, so your reaction is a bit confusing. Oh, so it's about your image? You do have a point then. As the best lawyer, he cares about his appearance a lot after all. It won't really make him stop biting you though, no. He will just leave his love bites somewhere no one else can see them from now on.

Don't ask me why but I see Jiro being addicted to biting you. He just loves seeing and tracing the small bruises with his fingertips whenever it's just the two of you. He genuinely doesn't realize the effect he has on you. Affection is a normal part of every healthy relationship, isn't it? You could say it's very straightforward for him. He doesn't see the point in hiding anything. If he likes someone, he shows it - fair and simple. So long as you're okay with it, he won’t stop marking you with those subtle signs of how much he cares.

The "this is unsanitary!!" guy number two - Yuri. He swears he would never do something like that, adding how's there are many better ways to show affection. And yet... One day you see a small purplish mark on the back of your neck. (Yes he was trying to be sneaky hoping maybe you wouldn't notice it there) Let's just say he's less than pleased when you bring it up. It's just for science he says! (Science my ass he's just delusional and won't admit his desires for you) Well, he understands your embarrassment because he's pretty embarrassed himself. Probably won't do it ever again unless you reassure him it's okay. You should also promise him that you won't be bringing it up each time it happens.

Jin’s definitely an actions speak louder than words kind of guy, so marking you is right up his alley. He loves reminding you that you’re his whether it’s his hand on your waist everywhere you go, or draping his jacket over your shoulders like it’s second nature. Though his favorite is actually marking you. He doesn’t see why you’d get so embarrassed about it. To him, it’s just natural and instinctive. A quiet, physical way of saying mine without needing to say a word. And if you catch him glancing at it later with that faint smirk? Yeah, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Tohma usually goes for kisses rather than hickeys, so you might feel caught off guard when you notice a small mark on your collarbone peeking from underneath your unbuttoned shirt. Oh, so at least he was considerate enough to leave it somewhere a bit less visible. When you ask him about it later, he’ll just smile, asking you to show it to him. That one picture from you makes him sure - this is not going to be the last one. It’s rare for him to act like that, but now that he’s started? He’s definitely not planning to stop.

Lucas isn’t the type to act on impulse, especially not with you. He’s always measured, always gentle, so when you catch a mark low on your neck it genuinely catches you off guard. You send him a photo later, asking if he’s aware of what he left behind. He doesn’t deny it of course. He feels a little embarrassed getting exposed like that but that's something he can put aside. What he can't however is your reaction. He's hoping he didn't make you feel to uncomfortable or weird. What can I say, sometimes even someone like Luca will give in to his desires

Kaito is not exactly known for bold moves. Don't get me wrong he wants to make a move here and there but often he just.. chickens out, thinking its probably not a good moment. And so the tiny mark just under your collarbone unexpected, to say the least. He’s more the type to apologize for breathing too loud. You decide to confront him about your finding. The 'read' appears immediately but there's no reply. He's probably screaming into his pillow right now. Five minutes later your phone buzzes with a flood of texts - panicked, and awkward. He may be spiraling but deep down he’s also a little proud, smug even. Just too scared to admit it out loud.

[you-little-arsonist]

sooooo, i haven't read everyone's takes yet but. my expectations for a buddie hint in the finale were higher than i realized and i'm not Great At Emotions so i had to kind of sit with my disappointment for a while bc i felt upset, and i felt kind of stupid for being upset. but after i turned it off, logged the fuck out for a few hours, got some sleep, and talked it out a little with a pal, i feel a lot better and things seem clearer

everyone's feelings are valid, feel however you feel about it, i am not here to be all toxic positivity. to anyone. i was really disappointed. after the ryliver press tour, the kitchen scene, and all the callbacks that made me think they were going to drop a buddie hint, it sucked when they didn't. am i way too invested in the gay firefighters on the gay firefighter show? probably i guess

but. i don't think it's as bad as it felt last night. like, we didn't get an explicit reference to buddie, but we didn't get nothing, either. we have actually gotten quite a few significant things in the episodes leading up to the finale. lots of feelings!! buck thinking about his feelings for eddie, eddie letting him know he needed him when bobby died, those things are not nothing. they're small steps toward a big thing. it's going to take a lot of small steps to get there

just some thoughts

eddie and chris are back in LA, and eddie back in LA means buck has to physically look him in the eye after now having been asked about his feelings for him. that's going to have to be addressed

sure buck is looking for apartments but why is he doing so in the most pitiful, meow meow way. his bestie is home, you'd think he'd be thrilled, but no he looked sad in a way that wasn't tied to bobby. personally i feel that there's something there that's going to have to be addressed

not to keep going about GA this GA that but as a friend pointed out, for the queers the slow burn might have started in season 2, but for those GA viewers, the slow burn hasn't even started yet. the seed was only just planted by tommy and maddie. we're going to have to show the general audience the YEARNING, it's about the PINING. do you see the vision

as for the queerbaiting allegations, those feelings are valid and i stand by that, but personally - for me - i don't feel truly queerbaited by a show that has so much queer rep and partly run by queer ppl (i know it can happen, i saw teen wolf happen but i don't think that's what's happening here) and for myself i feel like maybe it's okay to lean on that a little and trust it. maybe i will get hurt again, but i do have more trust in this show than i did for say, a prior unnamed show where the writers were actively homophobic

basically tldr i don't think it was queerbaiting, i still think they're doing buddie slowburn, they're just doing it slow. and you want slow, even if it feels unbearable now, so they do it right. there wasn't time in this episode to do anything justice, and i see that now that i've put down the ryliver cocaine and slept it off a little

which, final point - if you are doing a queer slowburn, turning the ryliver chemistry hose on full blast on a press tour before the finale is shitty but actually a smart strategy to keep the ratings up and the queers occupied going into hiatus without giving the GA whiplash, no matter how it makes me feel personally. yeah it's an underhanded, show business-y dick move to do it before the finale but i don't think that automatically makes it queerbait or means they won't do buddie. just my unpopular opinion i guess

[sublimerences]

In light of Eitaku/Aotsumi somewhat like kinda sorta really getting confirmed to some degree, I kind of want to yap about how crazy they both are

(Warning for Spoilers + discussion surrounding the Prologue, True, Multiple Eitos, and Goodbye Eito Routes Below)

Like, where do you begin here? They’re practically made for each other, Takumi killing him [and absorbing his hemoanima] in route 0 was /the/ damning act that bound them together for every reset thereafter. They bring out the absolute best and worst in each other, and prove that they both, deep down, lack the strength to carry out their convictions despite the gravity that they’re treated with. They both possess qualities that, at a surface level, seem completely at odds with their respective goals.

Takumi is, as we know, majorly invested in saving everyone — he takes on this savior/martyr role where he shoulders basically every act that requires judgement some way or another, including everyone’s burdens and the continued war effort. He is so deeply entrenched in the belief that if no one else does it, he has to, to the point of actually being pretty brutal about it; in these positions where he has to make increasingly difficult decisions, he’s the one who has to choose the most pragmatic options — even if it directly leads to others, and often himself, getting hurt — for the sake of survival, to make it to the end of the 100 days.

Really, there’s a sort of resignation to Takumi’s character where he actually ends up being pretty complicit to [often needless] violence when the situation “calls for it” (ie. Eva getting repeatedly tortured). He’s not usually in a position where he protests wrongs (even if he internally disagrees with them), instead seeing the war (and by extension the violence associated with it) as an inevitability — an immutable factor. He’s more on the reactive side than proactive. If given the mullen, he will bite it, often unquestioningly. Takumi is a character that changes drastically depending on the choices that are made, but I’d argue on an overarching level that it’s the possibilities that he considers that really define him as a character. Everyone knows that Eito’s skill names (judge, jury, and executioner) reflect him on a personal level, but Takumi is put in the same position time and time again, as well. (Notably, Takumi’s foreknowledge and past experiences do have the tendency to inhibit his ability to make sound judgement — there’s a reason that court of law deems evidence of other unrelated crimes inadmissible because it interferes in judging the here-and-now).

* One of my favorite aspects of the Multiple Eitos route is Takumi’s tangible shift in thought process — from “Why didn’t I choose to spare him?” to “Why did I let him live in the first place?” I like how the true route sort of pushes that further, in the way it encourages you to take certain options (choose Kyoshika, to help Nozomi and Kurara reconcile, and because she has additional dialogue that makes her death seem less cruel and more willing; choose Gaku because he is vital to learning more information; let Shouma kill Eva because it is vital to learning more information and because Eva is an ‘uncontrollable and unstable variable’ not worth investing in any longer). He’s so viciously pragmatic at times — a true “Whatever it takes” mindset (and showcase of his circular reasoning).

On the other hand, there’s Eito, who lands on the opposite side of the spectrum with this “Hell is other people”-oriented worldview (a fallacy of mind projection). He hates humanity with a passion, he believes himself fully righteous having been given the ability to see humanity for what it really is, and thus he feels justified in carrying out the extermination of all of humanity. There is an emotional core to his ideals despite him initially presenting cold, harsh logic and cunning — the fact that he grew up isolated from the world around him, in reality wanting companionship but being unable to trust in it both due to his affliction, being alone in his affliction, and the evidence he bases his logical argument around (the books that he read). Even then, the books themselves end up being a supplement to his lack of human connection, a grasp for some sort of understanding — for something to reaffirm the world he views on an outward level so as to justify it(s) (and his) existence. With Eito, there’s a repeated motif surrounding him about what it means to be defective, a glitch, an aberration, an uncontrollable variable that’s (as stated later on by Sirei) not meant to be there — something that Eito protests long before the nature of his exact existence is revealed. It’s clearly a doctrine that he is intimately familiar with having grown up more or less confined to a hospital after his own parents — who are supposed to be the very epitome of unconditional love (which extends to forgiveness) — gave up on him, leading to his inability to comprehend it.

I should say, the intriguing part about Takumi to Eito is that by the first reset, Takumi has effectively made himself an outlier just as Eito has been; it’s the fact that Takumi has the option (and is narratively compelled) to give Eito not just a second chance, but a third chance, at living and proving himself despite having multiple timelines (as a testament to his ability to be irredeemably reprehensible) stacked against him. Would I call it unconditional love, per se? Not really. But it is this idea that, in spite of all of Eito’s faults and his standing as a variable that is technically illogical to keep around during a war that begs vicious and inhumane pragmatism, Eito has a right to exist. It’s this that has him opening up his world just enough to let the Special Defense Unit exist beyond a generalization — or to at least entertain the idea of it.

* On a semi-unrelated tangent, the choice to have Eito literally rip out his eyes and replace his previously clear-viewed lenses with tinted frames is absolutely interesting thematically; although there is the aforementioned emotional point in his worldview, he tends to operate on a sort of unrelenting vicious logic when it comes to humanity that leaves little to no room for stragglers. He places a lot of value in his judgement and where he stands so as to make [what he perceives to be] the correct choices both strategically and when it comes to justice and comeuppance. He puts an insane amount of pride in his ability to ‘see clearly’, so both the fact that he willingly discards that and sees it as absolutely necessary to trust the others as his comrades goes to show that he believes himself to be impeding on his judgement to take that leap.

That said, Eito’s perspective, while very extremist, is absolutely a necessary counterbalance to the war effort and the predatory nationalism of the Last Defense Academy. Takumi states time and time again that he dreads learning new truths, often wishing he never learnt them at all. Eito, on the other hand, actively searches for the harsh reality of the aforementioned war effort even if it comes from a place of bad faith. Just the introduction of skepticism goes a long way, and it’s that that allows the others to humanize the Futurans instead of giving in to the rampant propaganda presented by the Academy. At the end of the day, it’s about reaching this middleground: “humanity can be terrible, we have been made to do something terrible for the sake of survival, but that doesn’t define our future — we can take the initiative to right the wrongs of our predecessors.”

Anyways, when it comes to Eitaku, there’s a definite push-and-pull dynamic here. They have the mutual ability to bring out the best in each other just as they have the ability to bring out the absolute worst. As stated, a defining part of Eito’s character is his need for autonomy and control when the circumstances of his birth were outside of it (control is a facet of Takumi’s character, albeit in a different way — ‘Its your future!’). By killing Eito, Takumi is both corroborating Eito’s cynicism regarding humanity and completely removing his agency — his opportunity to redeem himself.

In ways of the former, it’s about bringing each other to the very brink of hate-filled insanity as a twisted form of companionship (Eito absolutely sees Takumi as his nemesis, but up until then was seen more like a roadblock to work around for Takumi. Multiple Eitos revolves around actualizing the former until it’s mutual. This, in itself, is a form of understanding. For Takumi, dropping down to Eito’s level; for Eito, radicalizing Takumi up to his). As for the latter, the Multiple Eitos Route is exactly about repaying that in kind (literally taking over Takumi’s body, denying him the ability to save his friends, making his time-traveling escapades effectively moot).

What’s neat about Multiple Eitos is that it is technically a foil to Goodbye Eito and the True Route. While Multiple Eitos showcases Takumi’s capacity to be rationally cruel to the point of irrationality, the latter routes are case studies in Eito’s ability to display genuine kindness (it’s so important to Goodbye Eito that it’s children that Eito encounters in the perimeters, especially when there’s both a certain sort of childishness to his ideals, and the fact that he killed whomever tried to befriend him as a child; he is given the opportunity to perpetuate the cycle of hatred and isolation he suffered as a child but chooses not to, encouraging them to find community. In a way, the true route encompasses ideas of breaking such cycles, Takumi doing a similar thing when he and the group voluntarily accepts death to stop the massacre of the Futurans — when Nozomi chooses kindness by reaching out to them in spite of the tragedy of her situation).

Tldr; I guess what it really boils down to; I can fix him… or I can make him worse.

[witchygagirlwrites]

⁰⁾ “yeah, ‘cause you’re all such fucking saints.”

You sat on the bed in the exam room as Will looked over your vitals. Jay stood, leaning against the wall just inside the door. "Are you afraid I'm going to make a break for it or something? You don't even like hospitals. Why are you lingering?" you teased and he grinned "Someone has to make sure you actually listen to what they're telling you and Will goes easy on you"

"That's because I like her more" Will shot back at him with a grin. You shook your head, wincing when that caused a pain to go down your neck. "Easy" Will scolded and you pouted at him "Just do your doctor stuff so I can go"

"How did this happen again?" Will asked. You and Jay shared a look. How the hell could you explain that you'd indeed gotten hurt because you had went in the window of a suspect's house to throw a stun grenade to force them out because the unit couldn't get a warrant to go in but could get an arrest warrant.

"Um.." he nodded "Forget I asked" you rolled your eyes “Yeah, ‘cause you’re all such fucking saints around here" he nodded, looking back at Jay "Have I ever told you she's perfect for you? Because she really is"

Jay grinned at him "I know, now help her not be in pain" Will shook his head "I need to get a CT to make sure the little spider monkey didn't do anything beyond pull muscles then I can release her to your care with some meds, does that work?" Jay nodded "Sounds good"

Will patted your leg "Hold tight and don't do anything stupid in the meantime" you raised an eyebrow at Jay "Sorry baby, your brother says no sex" Will looked confused then busted out laughing "If the CT comes back clear feel free to do something stupid when you get home..I repeat WHEN YOU GET HOME"

You grinned "Yes Doctor Halstead" he shook his head "Detectives man" and walked out. Jay walked over and sat on the edge of the bed "So, looking forward to doing something stupid?" you grinned "Unless the CT scan says I have to stay here, we will figure out a way" and pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips.

[koisexy]

your toxic ex!toji will do anything to get you back. (pt.2)

it's been three days since that night. since you let him back in—not just into your apartment, but dangerously close to the your heart.

toji has been trying--you'll give him that. no random calls at 3am from girls you don’t know, no more liquor on his breath, no shady “boys night” excuses. he's even texting you good morning like he’s trying to rebrand as boyfriend of the year.

still, you ain't stupid. you know someone like toji won't change overnight, but damn if he isn’t putting on the performance of a lifetime.

tonight, he showed up with groceries. not flowers. not some half-assed apology gift. actual groceries.

“i figured you haven’t eaten,” he says, setting the bags on your kitchen counter like this is normal. “you always forget when you’re mad.”

“you still think i'm mad?” you ask, raising a brow, arms crossed.

He takes off his jacket and doesn’t meet your eyes. “i know you’re hurt. and i know i'm the reason.”

you watch him move around your kitchen like he belongs there. like this is something he used to do often. he didn’t. toji's love language used to be chaos. breaking things, then blaming the pieces for being too sharp when he tried to hold them.

but now he’s stirring a pot of noodles and cutting up vegetables like he’s seen a life where he could be enough for you—and he’s trying to reach it.

“i don't trust you yet,” you admit quietly, leaning against the counter.

he glances up, jaw tight, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen. “i don’t blame you. i wouldn’t trust me either.”

you blink. honesty? from toji?

“then why even try?” you ask, voice low.

he puts the knife down, walks over, and doesn’t touch you—just looks. “because for the first time in my life, losing you actually scared me. like, really scared me. i've fucked up a lotta things, but letting you walk away from me felt like the dumbest one yet.”

you search his face, trying to catch the lie. the angle. the manipulation.

but all you see is truth from a man who used to lie to you for fun.

“i'm not asking for forever,” he adds, voice a little rough now. “just let me show you. even if it’s day by day.”

you take a deep breath, feeling the heat of the stove behind you and the even hotter burn of his words sinking in.

“we'll see,” you say, turning away. “i'm still not letting you stay the night.”

he smirks, the old toji flashing through for a second. “fair. just make sure to leave a spare key under the mat, in case you miss me.”

you roll your eyes—but your lips twitch, just a little.

this might end in flames again but right now, you’re willing to let him burn a little. just to see if he can handle it.

[revelboo]

After seeing Thundercracker role play with his human could we possibly get a role play scenario with Skywarp

Sure! I overdid it walking in the sun and made myself a bit loopy, but so many Jeeps! I might have just a touch of sun poisoning lol

🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Roleplay

Skywarp

• Heart racing, you pull against your bound wrists. When he’d asked about roleplaying, you really didn’t know what to expect. Naked with a blindfold and your wrists cuffed in heavily padded cuffs and secured over your head so you’re up on tiptoe wasn’t it, though. “I swear if you left me like this, I’m going to kick your ass,” you mutter, arms always beginning to burn even though it’s not been five minutes. But you can’t hear him and honestly, leaving you like this is something he might do, the jerk.

• Laughing to make you turn his way, he reaches out to run the tips of his servos asking your thigh. “Prisoners don’t get to make threats,” he growls. “I’ll have to punish you for that.” And you kick out at him, swearing when you lose your balance and he grips your waist to steady you. But seeing you strung up like this? Helpless? His spike is so hard it hurts. You look amazing like this.

• Of course this is how he’s going to play. Captor and prisoner. Alright. Listening to track him as he circles you and swearing when he lightly swats you, not hurting but startling you, you kick at him again. Missing and belatedly realizing that if you actually manage to get him, you’ll probably break a toe on his metal hide. “Oh yeah? Do your worst,” you mutter. Because when it’s your turn, maybe you’ll play the same game with your roles reversed. Tie him up and ride him until he’s a whining mess.

• Palm sliding over your hip, he frees his spike and hooks his arm around you, dragging you against him. Letting you feel his spike pressing against your belly. “No one’s coming to rescue you,” he growls, palming your hips and lifting you. And you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding against him, trying to line your bodies up. Not playing your part. Venting, he swats you again and you dig your heels in. “You’re not doing it right.”

• Trying to push up the blindfold against your shoulder, you manage to get it up enough to be able to see. And you snort at his scowling pout. Because of course, he’s taking this seriously. Blowing out a breath, you strain against your bound wrists. “No, anything but your hard, thick spike. Don’t put it in me,” you moan, making it over the top and his optics narrow. Right before he reaches up and gags you with the stupid blindfold, grinning at your muffled swearing.

• “There’s no escape,” he growls as you dramatically roll your eyes, but you’re not ruining it at least. Lifting you, he lines himself up and pulls you down on his length, groaning as your slick heat takes all of him. “You’re mine now.” Hips pumping urgently against you, listening to the wet sound of you taking his spike mingle with your muffled moans, he gives in to the fantasy.

[tojiizm]

PARTY 4 U

k. nanami || angst. no comfort. fem! reader character death. spoilers for s2 jjk. i think thats it.

an: lowkey cried making this. this was inspired by party 4 u by charli xcx. the song makes me want to die. also sorry if there’s mistakes, its almost 3. k love u.

—

you hum to yourself, the house empty and quiet. you’re standing at the kitchen counter, decorating your husband, kento’s, birthday cake. there was a small smile on your face as you couldn’t wait for his reaction. you were also dressed up nice for him, just a simple t-shirt with a cardigan and some shorts. it wasn’t much but you knew he wouldn’t mind. he never did. he loved when you wore something simple. he believed that you were beautiful no matter what you were wearing or what you looked like. you could wake up with the craziest bed head and he would still think you were the most gorgeous girl in the world. he loved you. kento really cared for you and loved you, and he would show it through his actions. whether it be taking you out at random nights or just doing simple things like helping you with stuff. it was actually what made you fall in love with him. he was always so attentive and loving to you and you only. you loved him and you still do.

you shake your head to get out of your thoughts, a small smile on your face as you reminisce about your husband. the cake was done and it was almost time for your husband to get home. you sat yourself at the kitchen table, the cake in the center of it.

20 minutes go by; well, okay.. he could be running a bit late.

40 minutes; you start to get worried but you know he would call you if something were to happen, right?

almost an hour goes by and he doesn’t show up. your eyebrows furrow as you scroll through your contacts to call him. you press the call button on his name, fingers nervously tapping against the surface of the table.

it rings and rings until it goes to voicemail.

huh, weird. he usually answ-

oh. right. you forgot.

he’s not here anymore.

you end the call, hand gripping your phone tightly. your bottom lip trembles, hot tears rolling down your face and ruining the makeup you put on. your heart hurts, like you could physically feel it breaking. you sob uncontrollably, sniffles and hiccups filling the quiet room. you eventually tire yourself out, falling asleep with your head on the table.

you wake up hours later, eyes swollen red and mouth dry. you pull your phone out of your pocket. 2:14 am. you hum, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it down. you can feel the tiredness in your body as you walk towards your bedroom. the feeling of being in here almost suffocates you and you can feel your heart clenching, it hurts. you slowly walk towards kento’s side of the room, pulling out one of his t-shirts. you removed your own, putting his on and you can immediately smell his scent. it makes your knees weak, your hand darting out the dresser to ground yourself. you strip out of your shorts before making your way to his side of the bed. you carefully lie down, your blanket engulfing you in warmth. his pillow still had his scent. everything still smells like him. you close your eyes and attempt to go to sleep but it doesn’t come to you. your heart hurts, everything hurts. you just want him back, you need him back. the thought makes you cry, tears dropping onto the pillow beside you. again, you cry yourself to sleep, little hiccups coming from you every now and again. you can’t accept that he’s really gone forever… and you probably never will.

[slimepuparibaba]

it's another 18+ NSFW caleb ramble anyway

caleb when finding out you might be just as much of a freak as him suddenly decides to assign you homework:

list down all the kinks you have, what you want to try, what you really like, what are some hard no's, maybe any toys you wanna use in the bedroom, etc

he gives you a time period, a due date, and once he has that list, he'll compare it with his own mental list of his own sexual preferences, going through the list you gave him with meticulousness. colonel of the farspace fleet knows how to keep order and how to strategize, his sex life is no different.

man literally goes through your list with green, yellow, and red highlighters. green is an absolute yes, yellow is "will try, not against it" and red is a hard no on his end. he'll take note of what you like, what you don't like, see if he's on the same page, before returning to you with his copy of the list.

then you both go over it together again and start discussing any aspect of the list—are there any no's? why is it a no, and is there a specific reason? what about the yellows? why are they yellow, what's stopping it from being a green or a red? shared research like what are some safety precautions, how do you actually ensure you're practicing this specific kink properly will also ensue. it's a legitimately very intimate yet serious discussion that caleb insists is necessary (last thing he wants is to hurt you, physically or emotionally)

this is when you both also discuss things like where you feel safe to do it, what precautions there are, aftercare rituals, signs to show you're up for it (he's always up for sex almost 24/7, he's largely following your lead on signals), safe words, etc

then you get to the "supply list", he's over here shopping with you online for anything you might want to buy to use in the bedroom (also if you ask to turn one of the rooms in his house into a sex dungeon, he will not complain, i am saying this right now, that man has so many spare rooms in his house)

yes, caleb loves having sex with you. yes, he has some twisted desires, and you can match his freak. but safety and comfort is always first, and above all, sex is just another way of him showing how much he loves you and cares for you. if you aren't safe and happy when having sex, then he failed you miserably.

caleb is absolutely head over heels for you (please let him fuck you he's just a little guy)