#more of the 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[amrluv]

More abt bsf sister manon pls

bsf sister manon who you end up having to sneak around with.

after the late-night hookup, manon continued to see you, but rarely ever in public. considering her sister would kill both of you if she ever found out, everything had to be secretive.

the late night calls going from sexual to non-sexual over time 🫡 originally, she'd call you up, asking you to come over so she could "release some stress." usually, that stress release involved her strapping you down or fucking you on her fingers. but over time, she came to switch things up.

she'd start inviting you to do things like watch a movie with her or paint pottery. to be honest, it felt more like a date with a girlfriend rather than a hangout with your supposed "fuck buddy". her affections became more public, allowing herself to actually be friendly and talk with you in public rather than hold short conversations with you.

of course, there was always that worry of your friend—how would she react if she found out you were being intimate with her sister. but you two always brushed it off as becoming friends!

then the summer began to end. before you knew it, you were about to leave for your sophomore year of college.

manon made a big deal out of it, talking about how she won't be able to see you once you leave and moping about how busy you'd be. so she had to make it count! she let you spend the first half of the day with her sister, of course, but the night was all hers.

she took you out to a movie, watching some cheesy rom-com they were showing again. throughout it, she'd lean in close to you, sneaking her hand out to slot it between yours 😵‍💫 it was her, not so subtle, way of being romantic with you! and she knew you'd adore it.

she made a big deal afterward to make sure she could bring you back to her place. you were wary—knowing you weren't fully packed and ready to go back in just a few days. but she persisted, eventually making you agree to the proposition. and when you got back, she sure wanted to make it worth it.

her immediately kissing you all over 🙂‍↕️ kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck—every inch of your skin being marked with her kisses. her hand would move between your thighs, rubbing you through your clothes as she sucked on your neck, not caring if she left any marks.

when she finally gets you bare, she dives in, lapping at your wetness with her tongue, delving between your folds. she loved it—becoming practically drunk on your pussy.

her focusing on only you throughout the night 🙂‍↕️ focusing on your needs, your pleasure—prioritizing it above her own. she was needy, her own pussy practically dripping, but she'd be damned if she couldn't pull another orgasm from you! even after you noticed and asked to help her, she'd look up at you with a pout and say "let me help you. just for tonight." and god, she was able to convince you.

[slutforpringles]

Daniel Ricciardo watching the DRS Series kart race at Buckmore Park 28.06.25

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Marry Me

➾In Which: Meeting your boyfriend for one last date to break the news — well, let's just say you should have sent a text instead and ran for the hills.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader

"Your efforts have been cute but I'm tired of it. Time to face reality."

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, dead dove 🪦

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: DARK FICTION. DARK DARK. DEAD DOVE FFR. 403 possessive yandere, 414 punishment, home invasion, kissing and non-con kissing, toxic relationship, extreme controlling behavior, reader described as shorter than yunho, alcohol but not enough to even be tipsy, if i can't have you no one can ahhh yunho, forced legal marriage, insults towards reader: unsubstantiated slut shaming + cheating accusations, violence towards reader: manhandling + slapping + yelling + threatening with a knife + implied baby trapping and nc (i am so very sorry but yunho is the worst yandere in ateez, i fully believe it). pet names: love, doll, sweetheart. semi-abrupt ending cause i couldn't make myself go that far

"You think I'm finished? Oh, that's cute... Your punishment hasn't even started yet."

➯a/n: anon who requested this woke something dormant up in my brain about yandere yunho 😵‍💫 i think he's the yandere i MIGHT start writing noncon with IF i ever decide to because i legit can't see it going any other way until reader has INSANE stockholm worse than hwa's baby... mans is fucking CRAZY and SCARY and i luv him

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy

18+. MINORS HIT THE ROAD.

─..★.─────

"Hey, doll," Yunho smiles as he walks up to the table.

Out on the restaurant patio, it's nice and breezy and it cools your nerves as you return his smile.

"Hey, Yunie," you crane your neck to look up at him as he bends down; cupping the side of your neck while giving you a gentle kiss.

"For me?" He points to the beer on the table as he pulls back.

"Mhm, it just got here, still cold," you nod, leaning back in your seat and taking a deep breath.

"You're so sweet, thank you," he takes the seat across from you, looking you up and down. "Is something wrong?"

"Hm? No," you shake your head quickly and wave him off, "I, uhm, I actually got some good news..."

"Really? What is it?" He asks before taking a sip; and you wait until he sets the glass down to speak. You think he might have choked if you didn't.

"You remember the position my boss recommended me for?"

His face drops slowly. Pressing his lips together, he nods slowly.

"They want me to take it-"

"No."

"Yunho, it's not up to you." You try to stand your ground, but your voice waivers.

"You'd have to move to the other side of the world!" His outburst gets the attention of a few fellow customers, and he slumps back in his chair; pulling his hat further down his face. "Have you even thought about this- the logistics? We'd be in two opposite time zones, when would we even be able to talk?"

You're quiet. Too quiet. Looking down at the table with something stuck on the tip of your tongue but you're afraid to say it.

"Sweetheart." He whispers as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table as he looks at you intently. "Don't fucking say what I think you're about to."

"I think we should break up."

You jump as he slams his hand on the table before quickly putting his face in his hands with a groan. "Fuck..."

"Yunho, I'm sorry..." You look down at your lap, "but it's- really, it's for the best. We can both spend more time furthering our careers and maybe in the future-"

"Are you kidding me?" He mumbles, hand over his mouth and looking at you with a barely contained storm of emotions in his eyes.

You avoid his gaze like it's the plague, bouncing your leg and holding your hands together tightly. "No. I'm serious. This is the last time we're going to see each other. I went to your apartment while you were at practice and got my things, and I left yours o-"

"Nope." He laughs, unhumorous. Like he's in shock. "No, sorry. Not happening."

"You can't just say 'no', this is the decision I'm making." You look at him for a moment with a glare before quickly look back down when you see his eyes locked on you like some sort of predator.

"Like fuck I can't, you said you were going to marry me one day. You said you wanted to have kids together." His voice is even, but it's laced with anger. He leans over the table and pinches your chin, making you look at him. "What happened to that, love?"

"I'm sorry, Y-"

He grabs your hands as you stand up, looking up at you intensely. "You can't just leave."

"Miss?" Both of your eyes snap to the elderly couple who's approached your table after hearing the ruckus. "Do you need some help?" The woman reaches towards you when Yunho stands quickly and pulls you to the other side of the table.

"She's fine. We're just having an argument, every couple does. Right, doll?"

You gulp as he rests his hands on your shoulders. Normally, in any other argument you had, you'd say yes. But this isn't something small like whose apartment to go back to or whether or not you should take birth control when he uses condoms anyway.

Thinking about that second one gives you pause.

It's like every little strange or controlling thing Yunho has ever said slams on top of you all at once; making your knees weak.

"...Yes." You squeak out, feeling his grip on your shoulders tighten.

"Let go of her, son," the older man steps forward, and Yunho only backs up.

"Sweetheart, seriously think about what you're doing. I love you like nobody else ever could, I want to share my life with you, please-"

You writhe out of his grasp, all but running to the woman; grabbing your purse from the table on the way. "Come on, dear, I'll take you to your car," she takes your hand quickly, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner as she guides you back into the restaurant to head for the front door.

Yunho can only watch, practically steaming with anger, as the man sizes him up. He's shorter, smaller. He could easily over power the old-timer. But people are starting to stare.

"Fuck," he groans, kicking a chair before taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair roughly. Already thinking of ways to make you stay when you've clearly made up your mind — for real this time.

You've never said those words. Break up. Not even when he made you just as angry as he is now when he snuck into your apartment and —

He takes a deep breath when the idea comes to him.

He knows how to make sure you realize that you don't get to leave him.

─..★.─────

Your tired and puffy eyes crack open as the bed shifts.

Then, they widen quickly as you catch the outline of Yunho's figure climbing on top of you. When you try to scream, he slams a hand over your mouth. "Shut up." He says shortly, silencing you as you feel something cold and sharp against your neck.

"This is all your fault. You're the one who broke our promises. I should kill you."

You feel the blade tilt against your delicate flesh, your eyes wide and begging; filling with tears quickly.

He's straddled over your hips, caging you against the mattress. He stripped the blanket away while you were asleep, leaving you in your large sleep shirt and panties. Suddenly feeling way too exposed even though he's not looking at you with anything besides anger.

He leans forward, nose to nose, "I'm going to move my hand. If you scream, I'm going to. Nod if you understand."

You nod. Quick and careful.

Taking a deep breath when he removes his hand, you tilt your head to the side to face away from him. "Y-"

"Me first." When you bite your trembling lip, he continues, "is there someone else?"

"What? No, no," you shake your head quickly, arms wrapping around your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself as his gaze burns through you.

"Are you lying?" He sneers as he grips the base of your scalp, making you yelp before you remember his threat and slam your lips together.

"Have you been slutting around behind my back? Is that why you were so damn insistent about your birth control? Hm? Answer me!" He drives the blade into the bed next to your head, making you jump to the side and grab at his other arm clumsily.

"No! No, Yunho! Wh- There's never been anyone else, I swear, I swear," you sniffle, looking up at him as your tears start sliding down your temples. "I swear, Yunie."

"You swear? Oh, you swear, do you? That's what you said about marrying me, too."

"I m-meant it," you sob as he yanks the blade from your bed; thinking you're its next target.

"Did you?" He yanks you up by the grip he has on the base of your skull, ignoring your cries as he drags you to your desk — where the only light in the room radiates from. "Sign it." He says simply as he shoves you into your chair.

You look away from him slowly, rubbing your sore scalp as you look at the paper.

CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE.

"Yunho..."

He raises his eyebrows, looking you up and down as he leans against the wall. "Sign it, doll."

"I br- but- I broke up wi-"

He pushes off the wall quickly and slaps you.

He slaps you so hard your ears ring. Your head snaps to the side. Your jaw drops. His hand is the size of your entire face.

"You say those words one more damn time..." He pants, throwing the knife onto the desk before slapping your other cheek; throwing your head in the opposite direction with a cry of pain. "I seriously fucking dare you. See what happens. I'm already mad, love. Your efforts have been cute, but I'm tired of it. Time to face reality. You belong to me. Sign the paper."

With a shaking hand, you pick up the pen quickly —

And you sign your name right next to his.

You drop the pen like it's burned you, staring at the paper for a moment before you look at him. He looks down at the paper and smiles, barely noticeable. "Good." He says before leaning and pressing his lips to yours roughly.

You stay there, stunned, until he pulls back — and slaps you. "Ow!" You scream. It hurts so much more the second time when your cheek is already sore and undoubtedly bruising.

"Say you're my wife."

"Wha-"

Slap! "Say it."

"I'm your wife..." You stare up at him, shivering, "Yunho, please, calm d-"

Slap! "Say you love me."

"I love you!" You yell as you push yourself back on the chair, getting caught almost effective immediately. "Please, stop-"

He wraps his hands up in your shirt and pulls you up, dragging you the few steps back to the bed and throwing you on it.

You fall onto your back and sniffle quietly, "t-thank you."

He laughs as he crawls back over you. "You think I'm finished? Oh, that's cute... Your punishment hasn't even started yet. You really think I'm going to go easy on you when you just broke my heart like that?"

Your heart falls into the depths of your uneasy stomach as he trails his hands up your waist. "You're my wife?" He arches an eyebrow, urging you.

"Yes," you nod, breath caught in your throat.

"And..." He leans over, mumbling against your lips, "you love me?"

"Yes."

"That's beautiful, sweetheart," he smiles a bit more before he bites at your lips. "I think I know what will make happy... What will make you stay."

Before you can tell him you've changed your mind, you'll stay as long as he never slaps you again because your entire face is sore now —

"A baby."

He slips his hands under your shirt, running them along your stomach. "Being a Mommy finally going to make you settle down? The Mommy to my babies?"

"Wai-"

"Yeah, it will~" He grins widely as he turns you to lay on your belly, shoving your face into the sheets as he speaks right into your ear, "and every time you look at them, you'll remember how much this fucking hurt."

─MARRY ME★.─────

[cyb3rangel1]

YAYY i need to respond to tag games more often, i lowkey just assume all of my moots are already tagged 😭😭

T - The One - Kevin Sherwood, Elena Siegman

H - Headbangeeeeerrrrr!!!!! - BABYMETAL

E - Every Snowflake is Different - My Chemical Romance

A - ANTOMYMPH N1GHTC0R3E M1X - Vylet Pony

@theweaselofalcatraz im sorry to tag you but your prolly my only moot not tagged 😵‍💫

MOOT / TAG GAME !

mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !

m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)

i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

c — coraline (lyn lapid)

k — killshot (magdalena bay)

i — i know you (faye webster)

e — either way (ive)

tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !

[householdcryptid]

Cockwarming anon again! Dude… that fic was so fucking good, i’m still reeling from it. Like, read it multiple times, squealing and kicking my feet 🙈❤️❤️❤️

So, I offer you this idea as a little thank you (also apologies in advance if this sucks, i’m not a writer, i’m just extremely thirsty and bobpilled rn);

So they’re not fucking, right? But they’re also technically not not fucking.

It’s taken Bob a little while to actually process what’s going on, and what exactly he’s feeling. It takes him a little while to figure out that, sure, he’s getting comfort, but there’s something else in there, something deeper, more primal.

He develops little fixations, and right now he’s fixated on her thighs. He doesn’t know how he’s never noticed them before, how soft and supple they look. Pure comfort. He finds himself wanting to touch them at all times, and she lets him without question, of course, but it only makes him worse.

He’ll sit closer to her so his legs can press against hers as much as possible, he’ll grab them under the table at meals. He’ll even ask to lay his head on them when they’re watching movies together. Slowly escalating, pawing, rubbing his face against them like a cat, sweating, whining, drooling, until his head is enclosed between them, face pressed against against her core. Panting, shaking, eyes closed in complete bliss like he’s finally found heaven.

Just wait until he figures out that he’s a munch.

babe i know you said you arent a writer but you SHOULD be holy shit 😵‍💫 also thank you! i'm so so so glad you liked the last one 🩷🩷🩷

i'm thinking about doing a part two to this just so i can write about him getting pussy drunk tbh he deserves that. # bob reynolds is a munch

cw: rob bein a nasty lil freak, uhhhh scent kink(? kind of?), nsfw but no real sex, reader knows robby is a weirdo and is Totally into it, talks of addiction (not a lot but mentioned), short because i got sick 💔👎, hope you enjoy 😌🩷

It starts off small. It always does with Bob. One tiny thing that snowballs into an addiction, and leaves him reeling. Once upon a time it was morphine, and then worse, but now? Now it’s you.

Small things— things no one but him would notice. The way you smile when he tells you about his day, no matter how boring it is. The way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight, the way you glow.

More recently though, he can’t stop thinking about your legs. He’ll sit in the gym and watch you spar with Walker or Yelena, not understanding why the sight of their hands on you makes his skin crawl.

Instead of focusing on that feeling though, he zeroes in on your legs. The way they tense up, strike out to catch your opponent in the gut, the way they look when you have them wrapped around someones neck, pinning them to the ground.

They’re beautiful, even when you aren’t fighting. He finds himself drawn in, big warm palm sliding over the fabric of your sweats to knead at your thigh mid movie night. He isn’t trying to be a creep, isn’t making any attempt to get handsy, just wants to feel the plushness of it in his grip.

It devolves quickly. Gentle squeezes turn to fingerprint bruises that he feels genuinely awful for. You don’t ever mind, though. Your best friend is just tactile, he doesn’t know his own strength sometimes, and it’s not like you’re complaining, so why is he upset?

He stops squeezing as much, but it leaves something of a hole behind in his day to day. An ache he can’t explain, a longing that feels bone deep. Until you pull him to lay his head on your lap one day, and he’s found a new thing to be hooked on. Revels in the way the plush skin bows under his cheek, how you always end up petting through his hair. It ends up being a surefire way to put him to sleep, eventually.

It’s just too comforting. To have your attention on him so completely, your fingers in his soft curls and his cheek smushed against your soft thigh.

One day, the tower is empty, save you and Rob. He’s twitchy, strung tight like a rubber band ready to snap, skin buzzing with a power he still doesn’t understand and doesn’t think he deserves.

But you’re there, too, and that helps. Pulling him in with gentle hands, and he expects the usual. His head on your lap, your hand in his hair, but you shift. Your knees part, and you pat your tummy invitingly.

“I wanna lay down too, goofy.” You explain, laughing softly at his puzzled expression. He can’t stop staring long enough to come up with a verbal response. You’re wearing shorts, cotton boxers that pull taut at your thighs, dimpling the skin a bit, and his mouth waters.

His sigh is heavy and tremulous when he nuzzles his face against your stomach, lays flat on his front between your legs, arms wrapped up beneath your thighs, his hands splayed under your lower back.

“S’better.” He mumbles, lashes fluttering as he breathes in the scent of you. That’s where it starts, really. Your scent.

Warmth, clean sweat and a heady musk that makes him a little dizzy, he seeks it out. Noses down your tummy, wriggles southward until his face is buried between your thighs.

You giggle— honest to God giggle— and heat licks up his spine.

“Sorry-” He mutters, not making any attempt to actually pull away. “M’sorry. You smell so good,” He whispers, hands sliding to press your thighs closer around his head, nosing at your cunt through the soft material of your shorts. “S’so fuckin’ warm here.” He croaks out, just on the edge of a whine, nails biting into your supple skin.

“It’s okay, Robby,” You murmur, ever so indulgent, especially when he’s whining against your clothed core, already drooling into the fabric. “You can stay. You’re good, bubs.”

He almost sobs at the reassurance, brain going blissfully empty when you squeeze your thighs around his head gently.

He’s trembling just a little bit, huffing these shakey breaths against your core like he can’t quite catch his breath, pretty blue eyes unfocused and heavy lidded. Blissed out on just the smell and the feel of you, the way your thighs block out the sound of the room and the constant buzzing in his brain when they press to his ears.

He falls asleep like that, mouthing at your cunt through the shorts, letting out short little whimpers and huffy groans, your fingers in his hair and your thighs pressed to his ears.

You can only sigh, slip into a nice catnap as well, knowing full well the whole process will begin again when he wakes up.

[sainz100]

one more rather blurry shot from the 2025 Austrian GP 💙💙

[ilysungho]

I just imagine taesan as a guy who loves to see you cry during sex!! >//<

like it can go two ways

first way is when he’s balls deep in you and you start to tear up because he’s just so big. he coos and slows down his pace, letting you adjust to his size while wiping your tears.

second way is when you’re so overstimulated and can’t handle anymore but he just pushes your face into the bed sheets, keeping your mixture of sobs and moans quiet.

- 🐈‍⬛

a/n: so totally agree 😵‍💫 sort of wrote this combining both the scenarios? i hope you like it TT contains: dom!taesan x sub!reader, idol!taesan, dacryphilia, penetration (p in v)

“shh, it’s ok sweetheart. i’m sorry, i know it’s a lot.” taesan’s fingers swipe strands of hair behind your ears before cupping a cheek to wipe tears away with his thumb. he stayed still while you adjusted to his length, it having been a long time since you’ve had time together since he just got back from tour. he wanted nothing more than to feel as close to you as possible the second he returned, and it feels too good to be above you now, watching as you cry tears of joy and pain. but soon, the pain turns to pleasure as you ask him to move in a small voice, tears still welling up throughout.

his thrusts were slow at first, but quickly increased in pace as he could feel your wetness increase, lubing him up. yet you still felt so tight, squeezing around him as he groans and pushes all the way in. you could feel every vein of his, your walls molding to his shape as you felt overwhelmed from it all, cheeks furiously red and a salty river flowing through them. taesan loved seeing you cry because of him like this, cursing under his breath as he mumbled about how beautiful you look right now. he leaned down to lick at your cheeks, tasting your tears before kissing you softly in contrast to his harshness below. he just needed to ruin all of you, and you crying felt like a trophy for how well he’s doing it.

[angels-hideaway]

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱 III

Chapter I ;; Chapter II

vampire!Caitlyn Kiramman x peasant!fem! Reader

c/w: descriptions of gore, blood etc. intoxication, mild nsfw. Reader has comphet too.

w/c: 6.2k

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE! Sorry it took long, I was going back and forth on a lot of things and even caught some writers block😵‍💫. I’m happy I could get it out to everyone though! Thank you for all the support on this personal fantasy fic!

summary: As you and Caitlyn finally confront your feelings for each other, ghosts from your past return, leading you to commit an atrocity you can’t take back. SONGS: waltz no.2 by Cihat Aşkin, albinoni/Arr. Giazotto: Adagio in G minor, Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski, Vocalise, Op. 34, no. 14 by sergi Rachmaninoff, A Heart Made of Yarn by Franz Gordon. (Happy listening!)

“Wait for me!” You yelled for the boy in front of you. Cassian, your friend, was already racing through the woods. A small branch in his hand. “Ugh, all you girls are so slow!” He pouts, finally stopping for you to catch up. “I’m not slow! This dress is just not good for running…” you mumbled. Cassian grabbed your hand and led you towards the castle. “The adults never let us come up here…They say a vampire lives inside.”

You admired the beautiful gothic architecture with awe. “A vampire?” Your eyes were wide with childlike wonder and curiosity. “I’d sure like to meet them.” Cassian’s face contorts. “Meet them? I’d like to kill’em! This branch probably won’t do though…” he tosses it away. “I’ll need something bigger. I’ll make a fine vampire hunter when I grow up! And you’ll be my wife.” His chest puffs up with confidence.

“But I don’t-” 

“oh it’s okay. I’ll take care of you!” He cuts you off. “Okay…”

Your eyes flickered open. Now awake from your dream, you remember Cassian. A childhood friend who pursued you relentlessly. As he grew up, he became overbearing and pushy. You once convinced yourself that you were in love with him, but it wasn’t working. You never once felt love for anyone, but you wanted to. Being unmarried at your age was already unusual. You tried to love Cassian, but no matter how much time you spent with him, you couldn’t.

 As your senses woke, you noticed that there was a strange weight on top of you. When you attempted to sit up and  look to your side tiredly, you were met with Caitlyn’s glowing blue eyes. She grinned before pushing you to lie back down. “Let’s stay like this. Don’t move.” You were too tired to argue. You could feel her shift to listen to your heart beat. “You’re so sweet like this… All cozy and warm.” She moves again to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you in to her. “Caitlyn?” She presses her forehead to yours. “Yes, dear?” 

“Uhm.. what are you doing?” She makes a strange face, but replies “I’m just spending time with you. Before I feed.” 

“That’s tonight?” She nods, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

“I’ve been waiting all week. I can’t get enough of you.” She traces your body with one hand that stops on your hip. “Do you enjoy being a vampire?” You ask. “You’re always so excited when it’s time.” She stops and thinks for a moment. “I wouldn’t say I enjoy it. I simply get to enjoy some unorthodox benefits. Like watching you slowly weaken underneath me, like a wilting rose in my garden.” 

“That’s quite poetic…” your eyes meet her in an intense stare.

She sits up, and cages you beneath her. Her bare arms are on either side of your head, and it’s only then you notice she’s almost completely naked. Her shirt isn’t buttoned all the way, and you can see all the way down to the start of her stomach. “What? Never seen a body besides your own?” She notices your strange reaction. Caitlyn seems comfortable with nudity. “No it’s just, that makes this a lot more intimate.” 

“I suppose it does. Are you okay with that?” Her sly grin makes your heart stir. She knows what she’s doing to you. “Uhm, yes.” 

“That’s my girl.” She hugs you gently, before dragging her tongue up the side of your neck. She was being very sensual tonight. “Well, wherever you’re ready.” You tell her. Caitlyn lays you back down and lays next to you herself. She stays like that for a while, just relaxing before rolling on top of you, and pinning your arms above your head. “So helpless. I love fragile little creatures.” 

Her teeth sink into your neck like they belong there. She reciprocates any sound you make with one of her own. You’ll whine in pain, and she’ll groan in pleasure. Your body begins to feel fuzzy again, and you wrap your arms around Caitlyn’s bare back to hold you steady. Every time she’s fed from you, she drinks more each time. Her body tenses and twitches whenever you make a sound of pleasure from the drug controlling your psyche. 

Your arms fall back to your sides, and Caitlyn seizes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers with yours like clockwork. When she finally releases you, she sighs and brushes the stray hair from your face. “You sound so beautiful when you’re in pain. I can’t decide if it’s prettier than the sounds you make when you’re high off venom.” She lies back down and cradles you against her.

“Caitlyn?” That was the longest she’s ever bitten you, meaning this is the most venom you’ve ever had in your system. You can feel it coursing through your veins, and altering your thoughts. You almost enjoy the sensation of being high from it. You’re Caitlyn’s. The crest you still wear around your neck proves that. You’re her blood bank, forever. Meanwhile she’s gazing at you with hazy eyes. “What’s going through your head right now, my dear? Tell me.” She gets up and squeezes out a wet rag on the table next to the bed.

“Caitlyn…” you mumble as she places the cool rag on your forehead. “Oh really? Is that all?” She checks your pulse. “Again. Do it again. Take as much as you want. Drain me, please.” She relishes in your desperate words and sighs in satisfaction. “Aww, I wish I could. Unfortunately doing that may risk never tasting you again, so I’ll have to decline. Now, get some rest.” She kisses your forehead, leaving a lip stain of  your own blood.

That wasn’t the first of many odd interactions. Just yesterday, she left a bouquet of fresh roses at your door for you when you woke up. It’s also become a habit of hers to go out at night and surprise you with new dresses and luxuries. The breakfasts you wake up to become more elaborate too.

Sometimes, she’d dance with you at night too. She’d just be in her study and get up, make her way to wherever you’re seated, bow, kiss your hand, and ask: “May I have this dance?” Then, she’d dance with you slowly, holding your hand gently, with her other arm around your waist. She does this while looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world. There wouldn’t even be any music most of the time. Sometimes she’d hum a song, or sometimes she’d just dance with you in silence.

Is it possible that Caitlyn is in love with you? But that would mean that you’re her one and only. The book said so. Kiramman vampires love one and never again. What would you do if that really was the case? 

“Darling? Are you awake?” Caitlyn peers into your room one night. She comes inside and sits at the side of your bed. “Is something the matter, Caitlyn?” She shakes her head no. “I’m just checking on you. Any more nightmares?” She rests one hand on your thigh. “Not recently. I think I’m okay now.” She starts to rub up and down your thigh through the blankets. “That’s good…” She squeezes gently. 

“Caitlyn, I had a question.” You sit up and prop yourself against some pillows. “Feel free to ask me anything, darling.”  She smiles reassuringly. “If a vampire fell in love, what would happen?” You knew the answer already from the book, but you just wanted to see what she would say. “If I fell in love?…Well, I’d treat them very well and love them forever. I can only love one person in my life, so they would be my everything.” She doesn’t break eye contact the whole time she says that. “And you?” She says. “What?”

“What would happen if a sweet girl like you fell in love?” She’s smiling softly. “I’m nothing special, so nothing fantastical like having one true love or anything like you… I suppose I would want to be with them. Maybe I’d be too shy to ask, or maybe I’d be forward and tell them as soon as I figured out how I felt.”

“Really? How wonderful it must be to fall in love. I never knew that sort of love in my life. I only knew lust.” She looks remorseful. You question further. “Never in your human life did you fall in love? Not with any of your uhm, partners?”

“No. Maybe I could have, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. All I wanted was that feeling watching a girl unravel beneath me provided. Power, maybe?” She thinks on it some more, but looks back to you with renewed curiosity. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?” 

“Me? Well, not exactly.”

“That’s a strange answer. It’s usually a yes or a no.”

“Well, I would say yes, but I think it was more so me wanting to feel love. There was someone: a boy named Cassian.” Caitlyn looks very focused on your story. “And you loved him?”

“I wanted to. I never felt romantic love for anyone. I wanted to, but it just never happened. I think something’s…wrong with me.” Caitlyn comes to your side and brings you into a hug. “Nothing is wrong with you.” She hugs you tighter. “You just didn’t love him, and that’s okay. I’m confident that somewhere, there’s someone who loves you very much…”

“Caitlyn.” You lean into her grasp, and she lays you down gently. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I love you, if that counts for anything.” She drags one thumb over your bottom lip. “Someone so kind and understanding of me, someone who doesn’t run away.” Her hair falls onto your face

“You love me too, don’t you? Please say you do.” She lowers herself to lie on top of you in a smothering hug. “ I think I do.”

“That’s enough for me, my love. Let me cherish you here, forever.” Her lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your eyes are still open just from the surprise, but Caitlyn’s fingers dragging over your face urge you to close them. She kisses you with as much hunger as she does love. Her fangs scratch your lips, and the taste of your own blood taints the taste of her kiss. 

When the two of you part, a thin, string of saliva still connects you. Caitlyn’s lips look glossy and you can feel her breath on your face. There’s a moment of silence where she gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. “Thank you.” She whispers. 

When you wake up in the morning, Caitlyn is asleep. She’s nocturnal, so you leave her in bed. She kissed you. She kissed you hard. You raise your hand to your lips, and touch them gently. You can even feel the little cut left by Caitlyn’s fangs. You were her one and only love. She loved you. The thought made you feel like swooning. 

That evening, you hear the soft meow of Whisper, and see the cat appear from a dark hall. “Whisper? Is something the matter?” The cat seems tense. Her fur is raised and pupils dilated.

You follow the cat up the stairs to the balcony of the castle. “Whisper?” The cat stops. Walking out onto the balcony, you look out over the village and the woods. It’s only sunset, but you can see a trail of smoke rising from the direction of Crows-Wood. It had to be a fire, but the village wasn’t burning. A bonfire. You can feel your stomach drop with dread. Crows-wood only threw large bonfire parties before a hunt. Not just any vampire hunt though, they were sending off a group. You remember them distinctly. The people chugging ale and screaming at the top of their lungs, the vampire corpses and caricatures being paraded on sticks, and the slew of weapons the hunters were preparing to head off with. You always stayed inside during these just because they disturbed you so much. Who could celebrate the murder of anything with such fervor?

A group of vampire hunters were being rallied to head this very way to kill Caitlyn. When you realize this, you rush back to your bedroom, with Whisper following. “Caitlyn! Caitlyn wake up, please!” You shook her cold body into waking. She was still in your bed, sleeping as peacefully as when you left her. That was the case until your frantic shaking and tears woke her. “Darling please, what’s the matter?” She takes your hands gently to stop them from shaking her. “Crows-Wood! A bonfire they’re- they’re-”

“Shhh, my love.” She sits up and pulls you in against her chest. “Calm down. You can explain once you’ve done that.” Whisper leaps onto the bed and settles next to Caitlyn. 

“Now, speak slowly and tell me what’s going on.” You pull away from Caitlyn and look her in the eyes. “Crows-Wood is sending a group of hunters this way. I saw them celebrating over a bonfire.” Caitlyn’s expression grows grim. “How many do they usually send in a group?” You try and recall from your memories. “Uhm… five or six.” Caitlyn sighs. “I can take them, but I’ll need your help.”

“What do you need!? I’ll do anything.” She smiles at you and brushes your hair away from your neck. “I hate to ask this of you, but I’m at my strongest when I drink human blood.” 

“Of course! Take as much as you need.” You pull your dress down to expose your shoulder. The night has fully set in now. Caitlyn’s hand brushes your cheek, and she pulls you in for a kiss. She pulls herself back from your lips to kiss your chin, and continues down to leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Caitlyn…” You whisper her name into the room that’s growing ever darker. She nuzzles into the crook of your neck before biting down. Her hands wander down your body, to the small of your back to palm at your rear. Her touch is gentle, but firm.

When she’s finished, she lifts you bridal style and leaves your bedroom. “It’d be too easy to find you here. I’m sure it’s you they’re really after. I’ll bring you to my room.” You’re semi-conscious during the walk there. Caitlyn’s bedroom is” deeper into the castle. She sets you down on a large bed that smells like her. Old fragrances and roses.“Promise me you won’t move. Please just stay here.” She tucks your intoxicated body into the blankets, and leaves. 

You’re woken by the sound of screaming, stomach-twisting wails of pain, and crashes. You’re still high off of the venom, but you stumble out of Caitlyn’s bed to see what’s going on. You’re vision is swimming and you’re feet feel heavy. You have to get to Caitlyn. She needs you. You need her. 

“They’re here.”

The hunters have arrived, and are fighting with Caitlyn as you lean on walls to navigate the castle. She told you not to move, but you couldn’t just lie there and hope she came back alive. You wanted to help. How would you help in the state you were in? Even you didn’t know. You’d manage somehow. By the time you make it to the stairs, you can see the gory display. Three men lie dead on the floor, choking on their own blood as it seeps from gashes in their throats. Their faces are forever expressing regret and horror. The two left are injured, but Caitlyn seems to be tired too. She’s holding up well, but you can tell her energy has depleted. 

“Where is she!? If you’ve killed her I’ll drag you out into the sun come daylight!” An all too familiar voice screams out. Cassian? He’s part of the group? “I’d never lay a finger on her.” Caitlyn rasps, grabbing the other assailant and crushing his throat to fleshy mush in her bare hand. The sickening sight is followed by the snap of his bones. All the times she’s touched you, she’s been perfectly capable of something like that. Cassian yells out in rage, and charges at Caitlyn, wooden steak in hand. Caitlyn seems ready to defend herself until he pulls a small wooden cross from his pocket. The sound of Caitlyn’s scream surprised you. She sounds horrified. So crosses really do affect vampires that much. Caitlyn loses her footing and falls back.

No. This can’t be happening. She killed four of them and the last one standing will manage to kill her? And Cassian of all people? You had to do something. Caitlyn looks melancholic on the ground. It’s like she could get up, but won’t. She just lies there as Cassian aims his wooden steak at her heart. 

Neither of them noticed you rushing down the stairs.

With a gut wrenching scream, you plunge a dagger from a dead man’s hands into his back. Cassian barely has any life left to turn around and look at you. “You’re…alive.” He utters before falling to the ground. Still lost in the venom and your fear, you continue to stab his dead body over and over and over again, screaming all the while. You finally stop when Caitlyn pulls the dagger from your hands, and brings you into a tight hug. “No no no this was never supposed to happen.” She whispers. You sob into her chest from the shock and repulsion. You killed a man. Not just any man, but one you knew since childhood. One who came all this way to rescue you. 

“Darling look at me please, look at me.” Caitlyn wipes your tears with her thumbs and forces you to look at her. Shes looking at you like she doesn’t recognize you. “He was going to kill you I- I couldn’t let him take you away from me!” You’re spouting nonsense as you try to make sense of your impulsive action. “Shh shh shh..” Caitlyn just urges you to be quiet, and hugs you close. You can taste his blood in your mouth. “I- I’ll run you a hot bath, and we can soak together okay? It’s okay.” Caitlyn clearly is not sure what to do with you. You killed for her. Something so much more than a flimsy declaration of love. 

 You’re seated between Caitlyn’s legs as she hugs you from behind while you both soak in the hot bath. You haven’t said a word since you killed Cassian. Caitlyn is concerned. Every so often, she’ll attempt to coax a conversation out of you. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Silence. You cannot speak. “… This might not be the right time, but thank you. At that moment, when I was there on the ground, I was just so…” Her voice breaks. “Tired. Tired of fighting, of hiding, I just was ready to die. But then I remembered you. I remembered that I didn’t want to leave you, because I love you.” She holds you tighter, making the water slosh around the bathtub. You can feel her chin on your head, and her breasts against your back. “But it was too late. I was on the ground, and a wooden steak was inches from my heart. That’s when you attacked him. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. I wish you didn’t have to do that, and part of me wishes I had died instead of staining your hands with blood, but thank you.” 

She lifts you out of the bath, and drys you off herself. Caitlyn doesn’t take you to your bedroom that night, she lets you sleep in her bed with her. She doesn’t bother putting a nightgown on you, and just leaves you in your underwear. She talks you to sleep, before leaving to clean up the mess of blood and dead bodies. When she returns to bed, sitting at your side, Caitlyn does something she thought to be impossible.

She cries.

She can hardly believe it herself when she feels the first tear roll down her cheek, but they don’t stop. She shouldn’t be able to cry. She can’t. Her body is frozen in time, unable to produce blood, tears, waste, anything. So why is she crying? Since turning, this is Caitlyn’s first time crying for someone besides herself. Her first tears that didn’t stem from selfishness, but from how overwhelmingly guilty she felt for what you did for her. She doesn’t try and stop them, but just lets her tears fall. Caitlyn goes to sleep that night with you by her side, feeling a little more human than normal.

You wake up screaming. There’s blood everywhere. On your hands, in your mouth, and even in your eyes. Cold arms pull you back down to the bed and hold you steady. “Shhh my love. I’m sorry…” You manage to calm yourself, and relax into Caitlyn’s arms. “This is all my fault.” She whispers. “No please don’t blame yourself. I did what I did all on my own.” You reply. “Caitlyn, do you think we have to leave the castle?” Caitlyn seems to be thinking. 

“Maybe, but for now, I think we’re safe.” She intertwined her legs with yours beneath the sheets. Her lips find yours in a soft kiss. Her fingers thread through your hair, and between kisses she whispers. “I love you. I’m grateful for what you did, even if I wish it hadn’t happened. I’m truly sorry.”

“That was him.” You admitted.

“What?” Caitlyn’s lost. “That was the man I told you about. The one I tried to love.” Caitlyn gasps quietly. “I see.” She’s avoiding your gaze. “He was looking for you. That whole time he kept badgering me on what he’d do if I hurt you.” She sounds annoyed. “Honestly, it seems like he loved you. He wanted you back from me. He said you were his.” Her tone sounds angry, yet collected. 

When Caitlyn notices you’re asleep again, she sighs and kisses your lips once more before laying you down. 

When you wake up, Caitlyn’s asleep. Whisper is meowing at the end of the bed. You feel a bit better after all the commotion last night. It’s still hard to believe you killed anyone. Heading downstairs, you check to see if the bodies and carnage are still there. It’s not. Caitlyn must have cleaned it. Killing Cassian almost felt like being born again yourself. It was as if you truly accepted yourself for what you were, standing there, covered in his blood. Someone who could never love a man, no matter how much he urged you to. Every time he stated you’d marry him, the advances he’d make, offerings to your parents, and shouting matches that ended in your tears came crashing down. 

You had decided where you stood the moment you stabbed him. Going against your own people for a vampire. You wanted to stay with Caitlyn forever, and that’s something humanity wouldn’t allow. You’d ask her to turn you into one of her own tonight. You’d be a vampire too.

That night, you wait up for Caitlyn. As usual, she comes into your room to check on you. “Awake this late, my love?” She joins you on your bed, guiding you to lean your head on her shoulder. “Caitlyn, Would it be possible for me to become a vampire?” She freezes. “Why would you want to do that?” 

“I abandoned my humanity the moment I killed Cassian. I want to be with you forever, even if it means becoming a monster.” Caitlyn looks at you fondly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. Sure you’ve killed, but so have many men. Asking to be like me is asking to be forsaken by god. Besides, I’d never get to taste your blood that way again.” 

“A vampire can’t drink another vampires blood?” She laughs. “No. When my family was still around, we tried that. Vampires need the blood of others because we can no longer produce any ourselves. There’s no blood to take from me, or any other vampire.” An explanation that makes sense. You’re proposal sounded foolish now. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in my right mind.” Caitlyn strokes your back reassuringly. “I understand. Back when I killed for the first time, I was horrified by myself. The difference between you and me is that you don’t need to kill again. I shouldn’t have to either, yet the people of Crows-Wood insist on making me. I was ready to give up, and just let them kill me.” She sounds exhausted. She’s been alive for more than a century, and the whole time she’s been hunted. You can’t even imagine the stress and fear. Before all of this, you thought she had nothing to be afraid of. Safe to say your views have changed.

“I don’t think dying would have been much better.” You say. Caitlyn scoffs. “I’ve been dead a long time. Death comes for us all. In the end, we’re all equal in the eyes of death. Something that life hasn’t granted me.” 

“But doesn’t it scare you?”

“I stopped fearing it a long time ago. It doesn’t matter how scared you are, because every death is equally tragic. Even for those some consider evil.” You sit there in silence with her, letting the words she spoke swim around in your head. “I’m lucky I got to meet you though.” She kisses your cheek. “I’m happy I met you too.” You return with a kiss to her lips. It’s almost like you can’t stop kissing each other. The kiss grows and continues, until Caitlyn’s on top of you. Her hands are in your hair and you can feel her tongue in your mouth. You don’t stop kissing her until it’s physically impossible for you to continue. Caitlyn watches you gasp for breath with that same hazy expression like when she feeds. 

“I should leave.” She huffs. “Why? I was thinking that since I couldn’t become a vampire like you, that we could at least…” she stops you with a finger to your lips. “Please don’t say what I think you’re trying to. You must remember that I’m still a creature who runs on her instincts at the end of the day. I don’t know if I could do that with you without getting you hurt. Sex is what made me this way in the first place.” You reach out to cup her face in your hands. “But that was when it was purely for your pleasure alone, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to take the chance. No matter how much I’d like to.” She tears her gaze away from you and sits up at the edge of your bed. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“Caitlyn I’m sure it’ll be fine. Please?” You follow her and wrap your arms around her from behind. “Darling, please don’t entice me. I’d love to, really, but I just don’t want to hurt you. Please just get some sleep okay? It’s getting late for a human to be awake.” She pries your hands off of her and stands up. “Sweet dreams, my love. I’ll be here if you need me.” And just like that, she leaves. 

Caitlyn wanted you badly, but she couldn’t let herself falter. Make the same mistake she did a century ago, and use you for her own benefit. Caitlyn’s back slid down the door as she sat down on the floor, pressing her fingers to her temple in thought. She already was using you. Using you like cattle that she could feed off of. Caitlyn wants to love you, but her past won’t leave her alone. She can’t tell if she loves you, or if she’s reverted to her past ways. She stands up and rests her forehead against your door. How she longed to go back, but she knew what would happen if she did. Hesitantly, she leaves to go read and distract herself. 

You fall back on your bed with a sigh of frustration. You couldn’t force her. You went to sleep that night with a new way to think of death, and a burning desire for the one who inspired that way of thought. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. After tossing and turning, and many fantasies of your vampire lover, you finally got some rest.

In the days that pass, Caitlyn certainly notices your increasingly clingy state. She tries not to think about it, or what it implies at all, but it’s almost impossible. She wants to make sure that she loves you for who you are, and not just the lust she feels. 

The next few days are peaceful. There are no raging mobs or groups of men marching up the mountain to have Caitlyn’s head, and you can finally sleep at night without thinking about murder. That is until you hear the sound of a glass bottle shattering in the night, waking you and Whisper up instantly. 

The cat hisses and slips out of your bedroom, and you follow. You follow the sound of glass being swept, and end up at the old wine cellar underneath the castle. Caitlyn is cleaning up glass shards as blood seeps into the stone flooring. When she notices you, she looks embarrassed. “Did I wake you? My apologies.” Once all the glass is cleaned she stares at the blood in defeat. “How am I meant to clean this?… a mop I suppose.” She gets a mop and begins to sop the liquid up. “Are you feeling alright?” Caitlyn shakes her head no. “It’s a full moon tonight. So far I’ve been this way without you noticing, but cravings get worse on nights like these. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped a bottle.” 

“What kind of blood is that?” She stops moving. “It’s…cow’s.” Something tells you it’s not cow’s blood. Maybe a humans? You hope not.

“Alright.” You decide not to pry. “It’s only two or three more days until you can drink from me. If you want, we could just do it earlier if the craving is that bad.” She whirls around. “Absolutely not. In this state, I’d loose control almost instantly. I could kill you.” Her hands start shaking again. “Uhm, I can finish cleaning, and you can get a drink.” You propose. She nods hastily and drops the mop, instantly moving to sort through her array of bottles. When she choose one, she doesn’t even bother to pour it in the glass. She just drinks straight from the bottle.

She sighs in relief when she finally puts the bottle down, and it’s almost completely empty. A little bit of blood is running down her chin and her chest is heaving. “Don’t look at me, please. Stay away before I lose my mind.” She genuinely seems ashamed of her behavior.  “Caitlyn, is there anything I can do to help?” You approach her slowly. She sets down the bottle and uses a handkerchief from the table to wipe the blood from her chin. “Help me? Oh, I don’t think there’s any way you can. Just don’t come near me until tomorrow night.” Her voice is unsteady, and her eyes can’t seem to focus on your face. 

“I think I’ll go lay down.” Caitlyn excuses herself and leaves the cellar. You finish cleaning, and decide to go search for her. You find Caitlyn in her bed on her stomach, with her arms hugging a pillow that her face is buried in. “Caitlyn?”

“Yes?” She looks up and over her shoulder at you. Her eyes look tired and she’s paler than usual. “You look sick. Are you really okay? There’s nothing I can do?” She merely pats the free space on the bed next to her. That’s all you needed to see. As you make your way towards her, something about Caitlyn feels off. You sit down on the bed next to her, and she doesn’t react at all. You’re caught off guard when she suddenly cages you against her chest with her arms. Her strength is uncanny, but steady. You trust she won’t hurt you by applying too much force. 

“I told you to stay away.”

“I was worried. You’re acting strange.” 

“Strange? I’m already a vampire. I don’t know how I could get stranger.” You try to pull away from her, but her hold on you is iron clad. “Why are you holding me so tightly?” You’re a little annoyed by her. Caitlyn tries to relax her grip, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. “Like I said. I run on instinct. I’m not human. Right now, my body wants to suck you dry because of that wretched moon. That’s why I can’t let go. It’s torture.” You try and relax your muscles to make this less uncomfortable for you. “And nothing I can do could make it less unbearable?” 

“Maybe if you left, and I didn’t see you, but I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” 

She slowly leans into your face, pressing her forehead to yours and sighing. “You smell so good…” her voice is still shaking, and her hands follow suit. “Uhm, thank you.” 

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, you know that right?” Her arms finally loosen, and move to begin undoing your dress. “Uhm-yes I know.”

“So would you be okay if I bit you early? I know I said I wouldn’t but damn it all. I promise I won’t take a lot. I’ll be gentle.” She says between kissing down your collar bone, and forcing you to lay down. The kisses make you irrational. All you want is for her to give you more.

“Yes, that’s fine. Just a small bite.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy her sucking you blood. The practice felt like you were closer to her than ever before. The pain felt good, and the pleasure even better. It was sacred, and intimate. Caitlyn pulls down your dress to expose your breasts to the cool castle air. Her fingers trace over the buds of your nipples, making them harden quickly. “You’re not biting my neck?” Caitlyn chuckles. “Mm, I’ve gotten quite tired of that. I want to bite you somewhere else. Somewhere more personal.” She lifts you with her arm around your lower back. Your back is arched, and your chest is completely vulnerable to her. You can feel Caitlyn’s tongue glide around your right breast until it settles on your nipple. When she bites down on the surrounding flesh, you whine in pain, but the hurt quickly disintegrates as her venom is pumped straight into your veins.

Caitlyns eyes never look away from you, and the longer she’s latched onto you, the brighter her eyes glow. When she finally lets go, your breast is left cold and wet with her saliva. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it..” She’s more herself after receiving human blood. She adjusts your dress so you’re covered again. “You’re irresistible. Not to mention how fast your heart was beating. You can feel it too can’t you? How fast it’s going?” Sure enough, you think your heart may burst from your chest. You feel euphoric. “I think you like this. The blood sucking I mean. Just look at your face right now.” She chuckles and checks your pulse as usual. “This isn’t good. This isn’t the first time I’ve broken our rules.” She sounds like she’s talking to herself more than to you. “From now on, I’ll never break the rules again. I’ll never feed off of you off schedule ever.”

And she tries. She really does try, but sometimes the tension between you two is unbearable. Sometimes, Caitlyn will shut herself in her room just to avoid giving in again. You’re doing okay physically though, as long as she doesn’t do it more than four times in a row. When you get dressed in the morning, or undressed at night, you’re body is littered in bruises and bite marks. She’s gotten into the habit of biting you in unconventional places. Your arms, thighs (a favorite), and more. Not all of them are from blood sucking, some are just hickies. Caitlyn’s tried to just mark you normally as a way of “simulating” what it’d be like to actually bite you. You never thought you’d be in a relationship with someone who craves you so carnally. You’ll spot her looking at you like she wants to eat you alive from time to time. Her ice blue eyes burn through you, making you feel bare and exposed before her. The lingering touches, the soft, quiet times, and even the violent, intense moments all combine to create an addicting kind of love. 

It’s one of Whispers favorite things to do to interrupt a heavy kiss with a meow, before pouncing on either you or Caitlyn’s lap to whine for attention. Caitlyn would huff in frustration, but give in to the black cat and stroke her velvety-soft fur for a while.

You’ve gotten into the habit of waking up insanely early just to lie with Caitlyn as she goes to sleep for the day. You’ll lie there while she holds you close, like a child does their favorite toy. When she’s asleep, sometimes you’ll stay and just enjoy the early morning hours by her side. When whisper gets tired of waiting for breakfast, she’ll meow until you gently remove yourself from Caitlyn’s arms, and get started with your day.

Taglist: @starryeyes-7 @caitlynsbathwater @halle5s @riotstemple29 @mxchi-mxxn @thinkviolets @commanderraccoon @madalinee @gwscloq @seisei18 @paigeilicous @cottagegirlworld-blog @cenizajskp @kittymrtnezz69 @jiryelle @vivienneswhispers @all-things-lilac @marve1stranger @trulysapphic @b7ue8erry @poeticrenaissance @whatthefuckisthisapppppp @girlsatourbest @st0nerlesb0 @butchpuppyy @yearningandstillnotlearning @eyehatesex @sunsetzzzzzzz @kaylovesmatcha @venuswarmlight @mellowdreamlandpost-blog

[underatedwords]

dont know how many more times i can say 'of course' about them being glued together before i lose it 😵‍💫

[neogotmysam]

stalker, toxic bf, baby trapping, noncon, gaslighting, degradation and so much more all in one fic????

the ending scene with him coercing and yn crying the whole time and he just gaslights her while fucking her brains out…..it was so hot 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Heeseung loves you in the way storms love the shore. Hard, repeating and certain you’ll never change. You’ve tried to break free, but the leash is still there—in your thoughts, in your breath, in your silence when he calls. He never had to trap you because you always stayed.

nsfw warnings: SMUT, dub-con undertones, toxic relationship dynamics, obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, manipulation via gift-giving, gaslighting, trauma bonding, stalking, break-in scene, makeup sex, coercion-adjacent power play, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, somnophilic implications, non-physical abuse, emotional aftermath, unhealthy coping mechanisms, crying, power imbalance, dark romantic themes, blurred consent, light degradation, isolation from friends, psychological control.

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It's past midnight when the knock comes. Not a frantic one. Just steady, like Heeseung knows you're awake. Like he knows you're standing on the other side, hand hovering over the doorknob, breath caught in your throat.

You don't move. You tell yourself not to. But then you hear him. "Come on, baby." His voice is low, sweet, and mocking all at once. "Open up. I miss you."

You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear him chuckle. "I can feel you hesitating. Don't make me wait, angel."

And god help you—you open the door. Heeseung stands there like a ghost from your worst mistake. Hoodie on, hood up, eyes glinting like he already knows he's won. "There's my girl," he murmurs, stepping in without invitation. His hand catches your chin as he walks past you, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Took you long enough."

You met Heeseung at the café you worked at, it was nothing glamorous. Just a corner spot near the financial district, where you were usually stuck behind the counter wiping tables or pouring coffee with aching wrists. He walked in one Friday morning in a suit that fit too well and a gaze that settled on you like he already knew he'd ruin you.

He was polite, charming even. Called you pretty the second time he came in. By the fifth visit, he wasn't ordering coffee anymore—just sitting at the back table, watching you with quiet interest, leaving hundred-dollar tips like he was paying for your attention.

You didn't stand a chance.

He asked for your number in that soft, coaxing voice. Took you out that weekend. Took you shopping the one after. Bought you things you never asked for, always with that same sweet grin. "You work so hard," he'd say, sliding a bag across the table. "Let me spoil you a little."

And when the sweetness soured, when the manipulation began, subtle and sharp, you barely even noticed. Not at first, at least.

The first time he made you cry, he showed up the next day with flowers and a new phone.

When he snapped at you for texting someone he didn't like, he replaced your entire wardrobe the following week.

When he went too far, when his jealousy turned cruel, when his anger turned cold, he always begged for forgiveness with expensive perfume and new jewelry. Whispered "I love you" like it was a bandage.

Money became his language of apology. Control wrapped in tissue paper and designer bags.

By the time you realized what he'd done to you, how he'd cut you off from your friends, how you flinched when your phone buzzed, how you stopped smiling when you walked into work, it was already too late.

He had his claws in.

There was one night, months before you finally left, when he accused you of flirting with one of his friends.

Heeseung had taken you to dinner with a few of his friends—casual, nothing special. You barely spoke unless someone addressed you directly, always cautious, always polite. But one of the guys made a joke, lighthearted and harmless. You smiled, maybe even laughed a little.

That was enough for Heeseung.

Later that night, the car ride home was tense. You knew the silence too well by then, you knew it meant something was festering.

The second you stepped inside his apartment, he closed the door too softly. That kind of soft that screams danger louder than a slam.

"You looked real happy talking to him tonight," he said, voice level but hollow.

You froze at the sink. "What are you talking about?"

"You think I didn't see it?" Heeseung stepped closer. "The way you smiled at him. Like I wasn't sitting right there."

Your heart started pounding. "I was being polite, Hee. That's it."

"Polite?" He laughed, humorless. "You really think I don't see what you're doing?"

He raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair. It wasn't even fast but it was in rising anger and you flinched.

It was instinctive, immediate—your whole body recoiling like it had happened before. It hadn't. Not physically. Heeseung had never hit you.

But something about the way he could had already been planted deep inside you. Like you expected it now, like your body was just bracing for impact.

The silence that followed was worse than the shouting. Worse than anything.

You watched his expression collapse in real time—shock first, then guilt, then something fragile and crumbling that almost looked like heartbreak.

"No—fuck, baby, no. I wasn't gonna—" His voice cracked. "You really think I'd hit you?"

You didn't answer. You didn't even know how. Tears welled up in his eyes before yours did. He sank onto his knees with a devastated expression, dragging his hands through his hair.

"I'm not a monster," he whispered. "Jesus. I'd never...I wouldn't even think of that. Baby, do you really think I'm like that?"

You remember kneeling beside him, his arms wrapping around you like a trap made of silk, him repeating I'm sorry over and over until you almost believed him.

The next few days after that, he went overboard. Showed up at your work with a designer bag. The same brand your friend always carried—except this one was a higher tier, newer collection, rarer color.

He handed it to you with a smile and a kiss. "I saw hers the other day and thought—why shouldn't you have the better version of what she's flaunting?"

You didn't even question it. Not then.

He told you she was jealous of you. That she always had been. That she only kept you around because she wanted to compete. That you were prettier. Smarter. That you didn't need friends who secretly wanted to be you.

The bag glimmered in the light, expensive and perfect. Looking almost like a bribe, like an apology that cost too much to question, like something shiny to distract you from everything he was quietly taking away.

And the worst part? It absolutely worked.

The breakup hadn't been loud. It wasn't a screaming match or a shattered wine glass or slammed doors.

It was quiet. You told him you couldn't do it anymore, couldn't keep shrinking just to keep the peace, couldn't keep doubting yourself every time you made eye contact with another man, couldn't keep apologizing for things you never even did.

He hadn't expected it.

He stood there in your doorway, stunned like he didn't understand the language you were speaking. His voice cracked when he asked, "So that's it? After everything I've done for you?"

But you didn't change your mind. Not even when he showed up every day after that. Not even when there were flowers at your door. Expensive gifts you never asked for. Apologies in the form of designer jewelry, handwritten notes, voice messages at 3AM. A slow descent from devotion to desperation.

And when none of that worked, when you didn't answer his texts or let him in, his begging soured into something else.

Frustration. Entitlement. A low simmering anger beneath the surface of every "I miss you" that started sounding more like a threat than a plea.

You thought ignoring him would be enough. It really wasn't.

You woke up one night with the eerie sensation that something was wrong. Your room was still dark, but your body stiffened when you realized you weren't alone in the bed.

Heeseung.

Pressed to your side like he belonged there. Arm slung over your waist. Face buried in your hair like he hadn't let himself in while you were sleeping.

Your heart slammed in your chest. You jerked away with a sharp gasp. "What the fuck—Heeseung?!"

He blinked slowly like he'd just woken up. "Hey," he murmured, voice heavy with sleep. "You left your door open."

You hadn't.

"You can't be here," you choked out, panic rising. "Get out. Get the fuck out."

But he didn't. He reached for you immediately. You tried to push him away, but that only seemed to make him more determined and that's when he kissed you.

Desperate and deep. As though kissing was a language he could use to convince you instead. You'd resisted at first, trembling, trying to pull back, but it was him, it was Heeseung, and your body remembered the way he used to hold you when things were good, the way his voice would crack when he whispered he loved you.

And like always...he knew exactly which pieces of you to press until you broke for him completely.

His hand slid down, thumb dragging between your legs until your whimper betrayed you. Until the betrayal was yours too.

He pushed into you like he never left, groaning in your ear, clinging to your hips like you were being reunited instead of undone.

"You still feel like mine," he whispered against your neck, breath ragged. "You can't tell me you don't miss this."

You didn't answer.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your throat. "I'll be better. For you," he swore, fucking you harder like the rhythm itself could convince you. "I swear. I'll stop being so jealous. You don't have to be scared of me anymore. Just—just come back to me. Please."

You'd cried under him.

Not just from the overwhelming heat, not just from the way he made your body submit, but from the way you hated yourself for giving in, hated that a part of you still ached for the version of him you fell in love with.

But that version was dead. It'd died long ago. And whatever had crawled into your bed now didn't care.

Because he still finished inside you, still moaned about how perfect you were, how you belonged to him. How this meant you weren't really over him.

He kissed your trembling fingers as you lay there numb, still shaking, still silent. "I know you don't mean it," he whispered. "All that stuff you said. You still love me. Right?"

You still couldn't answer and Heeseung took your silence as a yes.

You deleted every trace of him after that night—photos, texts, blocked his number, even told your friends to stop you if you ever mentioned his name again.

But it didn't matter.

Because Heeseung never truly left.

He still shows up like nothing happened. Still finds his way into your apartment, into your bed, into your head. And every time you tell yourself it's the last time, he tilts your chin up, smirks like he owns you, and says, "Did you miss me, baby?"

The worst part? Your body answers before your mouth can.

He ruined you for anyone else. No one touches you like he does. No one talks to you like he does. He calls you his pretty little toy, pulls your hair when you disobey, whispers filth into your ear until your legs are shaking and your mind goes blank. You cry and beg and tremble for a man you swore you'd never let touch you again.

And now he's standing here in your apartment again calling you his girl.

"I'm not your girl." you try, voice fragile, but he's already stepping inside. You walk away without looking back, already halfway to the bedroom when you ask,

"What do you want, Heeseung?" A stupid question. You already know. The second the lock clicked and he stepped over the threshold, the air shifted. He was always going to follow. You knew it in your bones, in the silence that thickened behind you with each step. You should've kept the door shut. Should've kept your mouth shut. But now he's here, moving through your space the way he always does—uninvited, inevitable.

He kisses you.

And for one blessed second, you don't move. You keep your hands at your sides. You clench your jaw, trying to pretend you don't feel that familiar ache, the one he planted in your bones months ago and never let die.

But he's gentle, almost mocking in the way he presses his lips to yours, dragging it out like a dare. "You miss me?" he breathes against your mouth.

You turn your head. "No."

He hums, tilts your chin with two fingers. "Liar."

Then he kisses you again—deeper this time, thumb stroking your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth, and that's when you feel your whole body trembling with need. Your knees give first, followed by your resolve.

You grab onto his hoodie like it'll steady you, gasping into him, letting him press you back into the wall.

You should tell him to stop, push him away, tell him you're done for real this time, that this isn't healthy, that you're not the same girl he broke. But your mouth betrays you, just like your body already has.

Because you're already letting him slip your shorts down. Already lifting one leg for him so he can settle between your thighs as he slides down to his knees.

"Fuck," he exhales, almost devout as he stares at your cunt, wet and wanting and all his again. "Look at you. Always so ready for me."

You swallow hard, your fingers curling into his hair as he kisses the inside of your thigh, slow and open-mouthed, breathing hot against your skin.

He looks up at you from between your legs, pupils blown and lips wet, you feel it again—that pathetic ache, that invisible leash he still keeps around your throat.

It should feel like power, like you have the upper hand, spread open above him, his mouth on you, his body lower than yours.

But it doesn't. Not with Heeseung.

Because even here—especially here—he's still in control. The way he touches you, slow and certain, mapping out the places he knows you'll break. Like he's reminding you this is his. The grip he has on your hips, the heat of his mouth, the way he knows exactly how to fuck you open with his tongue until you're gasping and grinding and begging for more.

Your hands fly to his hair and you try to take something back, try to make him yours, but he just lets you. Smirking into you like it's cute that you think you have any power here.

You're dripping down his chin, thighs shaking, spine arched off the wall, shaking by the time he pulls away from you, lips wet, chin glistening. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at you like he just tasted something sweet and owned it.

"Turn over," he says.

You hesitate. Just long enough for your eyes to meet his—dark, commanding, utterly unbothered—and you're already moving. Already crawling up the bed on shaky limbs, already letting him manhandle you onto your stomach like it was never a question.

Heeseung climbs over you slowly. Methodically. Like a predator getting comfortable in its favorite hunting ground.

His hand slides between your shoulder blades, flattening you against the mattress, his cock heavy and hard grinding against your ass. You whimper, already wrecked and dizzy from his mouth—but he hasn't even started.

And when he finally pushes his cock in, it's like your lungs collapse. You're soaked for him. Way too ready. Too familiar. Your body remembers him, opens up like it never stopped craving this. And he sinks in all the way, one slow, devastating thrust that has you clawing at the sheets.

"Fuck," he breathes, burying himself deep. "Missed this pussy."

You try to protest, you really do. Try to find the breath to tell him this doesn't mean anything, that this isn't you two again.

But then he starts moving. Hard and deep. Almost as if he's punishing you for ever walking away into the first place. Your legs are shaking, moans muffled into the pillow, his name spilling out of your mouth over and over, helpless and needy.

"You know we're back together now, right?" he murmurs in your ear, hips snapping against your ass, cock dragging along your walls and hitting that spot he knows makes you keen. "You letting me fuck you like this? It's done, baby. You're mine again."

You gasp, the words barely registering under the pressure of his thrusts. "We’re back together," he says again, gritting his teeth. "Say it."

You shake your head, a whimper catching in your throat.

"I said say it."

"W—We’re b—back together—!," you breathe, barely audible.

He groans cause you know that's all he needed. That's his reward. He drags you up by the waist, forcing you to arch for him, pounding into you deeper now, every thrust sending you higher, closer, ruined.

"You think I'd let you go just like that?" he growls. "After all the shit we've been through?"

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, and you nod. Not because you believe it—but because you're too far gone to argue, whimpering when he pushes you back into the sheets.

You're shaking, face buried in the sheets, body arching helplessly with each brutal thrust. Heeseung's pace is relentless and sharp, punishing even, as if he's trying to fuck the memory of him back into you.

It's too much.

You reach back blindly, hand fumbling against his hip, fingers curling in a weak attempt to push him away, to slow him down, to just breathe.

But he catches your wrist with one hand and slams into you harder. "Don't," he snaps, voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Don't fucking run now."

He pins your hand to the small of your back, holding you there, twisted beneath him and completely at his mercy. You whimper, legs trembling, mouth open in a silent cry as he drives into you again and again, each thrust deeper, meaner.

"Should've known better," he grits out, "than to think I'd let you go."

Your walls pulse around him, overwhelmed, overstimulated, ruined. And all you can do is take it—take him—while he reminds your body exactly who it belongs to.

His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing your skin like a taunt.

Your whole body's gone pliant under him, muscles trembling, cries muffled into the sheets. His thrusts keep getting more and more brutal—sharp, full-bodied, relentless—every snap of his hips punching the breath out of you.

He lets out a broken groan, right in your ear. "Shit—Baby—I'm so fucking close."

You panic.

Your hand scrambles back again, weaker this time, just resting over his wrist on your hip. You're already too far gone to stop him—but you try. And your voice is a breathless whimper, high and thin.

"Hee—pull out. I'm not—I'm not on the pill anymore."

He halts his thrusting but only for a second.

And then you feel him smirk against your shoulder, his breath catching in a dark little laugh. He pushes in deeper, slower this time, grinding his cock into you like he owns your womb.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, all faux innocence. "Why, angel? You don't wanna have my baby?"

You whimper again, shaking your head, but he doesn't stop. Heeseung just fucks you harder.

"Thought you were mine," he says, low and taunting. "Letting me fuck you raw, crying all sweet—now you're scared? Hm?"

His hand slides under you and over your stomach, palm flat like he's already claiming what's inside.

"You think I wouldn't put a baby in you just to make sure you never fucking leave again?"

You cry out, overwhelmed, overstimulated, trembling so hard it borders on pain, but it doesn't matter. Not to him.

Because he's so close. And now he's chasing it.

"You gonna take it?" he breathes. "Let me fill you up like you're supposed to?"

You're gasping, moaning, sobbing something that's probably "please"—but even you don't know if it's for it or against it.

And he finishes with a growl, burying himself to the hilt, cock pulsing deep as he spills into you, holding your hips down like he's planting it there, it triggers your own orgasm that hits you harder than a tidal wave. “Oh my god! Heeseung! Please—!”

He continues to fuck you through it, pushing his cum deeper into you, making you whimper from the sharp overstimulation.

Your body goes limp beneath him, skin flushed and slick, the sheets tangled and ruined around your legs. You're still panting, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan, the inside of your thighs sticky with his cum.

Heeseung doesn't move right away.

He stays buried in you for a beat longer than necessary, trying to seal something in, his hand splayed over your stomach, claiming it.

And then, slowly—so fucking gently—he pulls out.

You flinch, legs twitching, whimpering from the sudden emptiness.

"Shh," he soothes, brushing your hair back with a tenderness that shouldn't belong to someone like him. "You did so good."

Your throat feels so dry, your limbs are nearly boneless and your mind is fogged over with everything he just took from you.

And then he reaches for something you hadn’t even notice him place on the nightstand. You hear it before you see it—the tiny click of a velvet box opening.

And your blood immediately runs cold.

"Heeseung," you croak, voice thin and hoarse.

But he's already slipping the ring onto your finger.

It's simple, delicate, beautiful even, but so so wrong.

"Looks good on you," he murmurs. Like it's just another part of your body he's claimed. “Don’t you think?”

You try to pull your hand back—too slow, too weak—and he catches it in his. "You'd marry me, right?" he says, not even asking. Just stating it, like it's already done. "You're gonna marry me."

You're shaking your head, tears starting to burn, but he just kisses your knuckles like a man in love.

"Doesn't matter what your friends think. Doesn't matter what you think either," he adds, voice dropping dark and low. "You're mine."

His hand returns to your stomach, palm flat, firm.

"You're probably already pregnant anyway."

You choke on a breath.

"We'll move away," he says, almost dreamily. "Somewhere quiet. You won't need anything but me."

And you know he means it. Every word. Every plan he's made without you. Every delusion he's turning into your very reality.

You're still half-naked. Still wet with him. Still caught in that foggy, ruined daze.

And now you're engaged.

Whether you even said yes or not.

• a/n: i hope this satisfies all the toxic heeseung fic reqs i got (there were a lot) i think one shots are my new thing, also GUYS MY FIC REQS ARE CLOSED

[returnofeternity]

can i have 🥸 anon? thinkinggg abt jackie being free use just like very obviously bringing up somno pretending to be all casual but shes (not so) secretly so desperate for you to take her up on it wants so badly to wake up to you using her

she's trying to seduce you to get you to just pull her close and use her how you want, but ur not getting the hints 😖 all those times she purposefully bent over in front of you to grab something she dropped, those mornings she'd go without clothes while making breakfast in the kitchen, was her tryingg to tell you she wanted you to use her body.

talking about free use with her, getting consent, and her telling you what you're more than welcome to do to her, and she gets super excited talking about somno.. mentions it sooo casually. like, "oh, also you can wake me up with head or whatever 😊" but her breath hitches when you ask for clarification about what you can do to her in her sleep, and she just gets so wet while thinking about all the possibilities.

it's so hard for her to fall asleep after that lmfaoo. she's just too excited thinking about whether she's gonna wake up to you eating her out. also thinking about just pulling her close and groping her while ur trying to sleep and she's so horny because of it. it's hard for u to sleep too. well, kind of. her soft moans and whines make ur whole body flush, and all u wanna do is fuck her dumb, but they put you to sleep so easily at the same time.

thinking about her waking up and already feeling her belly coil as her orgasm approaches 😵‍💫 she can barely comprehend what's going on before she starts moaning wildly, grabbing at the sheets as something warm and wet prods at her hole. looking up at her through ur lashes, your juices coated on her chin, and mumbling a "good morning." to her 😊 telling her you just couldnt help it, you woke up and the strap of her tank top was low, exposing one of her tits for you, and that she looked pretty enough to eat.

it's her favorite thing to wake up to her body being mysteriously wet or her clothes being off when she had them on before going to bed. feeling the air conditioner blow on your wet marks left on her stomach, turning in her sleep and feeling how drenched her thighs are, waking up to her pussy all sore and clearly used. it's a rush for her.

[lightsoutmatthews]

willy just posted new pics from cannes on his insta and it gave me an idea! can you do willy x reader at some fancy event and the alllll the ladies keep coming up to will, so reader starts to feel really insecure/not enough. but sweet sweet willy is so loyal and so in love with reader and wants to show her that. thanks chica <3333

Those pictures made me go all 😵‍💫

There´s only you – William Nylander

You stood in front of the hotel mirror, adjusting the strap of your dress for the third time in probably as many minutes.

It wasn’t that it didn’t fit, it did, perfectly actually. You had gone shopping a week ago just to find something perfect for tonight.

A sleek, dark navy gown with a slit up the side, elegant but not too showy. Subtle jewelry, hair done up just the way you liked. You looked nice, good, even.

Unfortunately, good didn’t seem like enough for tonight.

Tonight, you were going to a red-carpet charity gala in Toronto on the arm of Leafs winger William Nylander.

You had been dating for a while at this point, but it would be the first time you would accompany him to such an event.

William was adjusting his cufflinks nearby, looking completely at ease in the tailored black tux.

You caught his reflection in the mirror. His blonde hair was slicked back, his jawline sharp and eyes bright. He looked like a movie star.

He was famous after all, but it was more than that. He glowed in places like this.

You felt lucky but at the same time incredibly nervous.

“You ready, älskling?” he asked, smiling at you in the mirror.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Let´s do this.”

-------------

The venue was stunning. All marble floors, hanging chandeliers and tall windows overlooking the Toronto skyline.

Cameras flashed as you and William stepped out of the car. He held your hand the whole time, even as the mass of reporters shouted his name.

“William! Over here!”

“William, who are you wearing?”

“Is this your girlfriend?”

You clung to his side, eyes darting everywhere.

He leaned down, whispering softly against your ear as he sensed your unease, “You´re doing great.”

The moment you got inside, though, the swam began.

First, it was a group of women, models, maybe, with perfect hair and bright red lips. They recognized him immediately.

“Willy! Oh my God, I didn’t know you would be here tonight!” one of them almost shouted, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

She didn’t even spare you a glance.

Another one giggled, resting a hand on his arm. “I swear you get more handsome every year.”

You laughed politely, stepping a little closer to him. he didn’t move away, but he didn’t say much either, just gave them that soft, easy smile he used in public.

That professional smile you saw him spot many times before.

More women joined throughout the night. Models. Other attendees wives. Influencers. All gorgeous, all confident, all dressed to kill.

And every time they looked straight at William and barely at you. Some didn’t even hide they scanned him from head to toe.

It was starting to bother you, but you didn’t want to be that girlfriend. The clingy, insecure one. So, you smiled, sipped champagne and stayed close but not too close.

But your chest was getting tighter by the minute.

You started comparing.

You dress wasn’t as bold. You shoes weren’t as high. You didn’t have that high-society polish that they all seemed to carry effortlessly.

The way they walked, talked and flirted, it was like they belonged here, and you were just someone tagging along.

At one point, while William was chatting with a group of other Toronto athletes, you stepped away to the restroom.

You needed a break.

Your cheeks were hot, and not from the champagne or the warmth inside the building.

Why did you feel so small? You were the one here with him after all.

You knew William loved you. He told you all the time, but here, tonight, he fit so well in this world of flashing lights and glamorous women.

You couldn’t stop wondering, what if someday he realized he wanted someone more like them?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pressed your lips together, trying to shake it off. He hadn’t done anything to even give you remotely the impression that he would.

You just needed a second to breathe.

--------------

When you came back out, you saw him standing near the bar. A tall blonde was leaning in close to him, hand resting lightly on his chest as she laughed at something he said.

It punched you in the stomach immediately.

You turned back towards the hallway and ducked outside to the balcony. It was quieter out there, the city lights glittering below.

You leaned against the stone railing and took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around yourself even though it wasn’t that cold tonight.

You didn’t cry, but the tears picked at the corner of your eyes.

You heard the door slide open behind you a few minutes after initially stepping out.

“Hey,” William said softly.

You didn’t turn around right away, the sound of his voice making the tears threaten to fall any second.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just needed some air.”

“I noticed,” he said, coming up beside you now. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated for a second. Debating to tell him the truth.

“I´m fine,” you lied instead. “Just a little overwhelmed with it all.”

William watched you for a second after that. “Something is wrong,” he pointed out.

You looked up at him finally and that was when your voice cracked. “I don’t fit in here, Will. I feel like I´m just standing in the background while all these girls throw themselves at you.”

His expression fell instantly. “What?”

“They´re all so confident and glamorous and they look like they belong with someone like you. Meanwhile I´m just me.”

He was quiet for a beat, his brow furrowing. Then he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Älskling” he mumbled, the Swedish term of endearment sending shivers down your spine. “You´re the only person I see in a room like this.”

You scoffed a little, not because you didn’t want to believe him, but because it felt too good to be true.

“I´m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “You think I care about them or that any of them matter to me?”

You looked down. “I know you don’t mean to make me feel this way, but when they look at you like that, it just…it gets in my head. I start wondering if I´m good enough.”

Williams hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up. “You are good enough. You´re more than enough and you´re everything to me.”

Your eyes burned.

“They don’t know me,” he said gently. “But you do. You know the dumb stuff I watch when I´m sick, the way I get grumpy when I haven’t eaten. You´ve seen me at my worst and still love me. That means more than some girl laughing at my jokes for five minutes.”

You swallowed hard. “But they´re all so…”

“Älskling,” he interrupted you softly. “I don’t want them. I want you. Always.”

He leaned in and kissed you softly, slow and sure. His hand stayed on your waist, grounding you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I know I don’t say this nearly enough,” he murmured. “But I love you. Not because you came here with me tonight or because you look amazing in that dress…which you do by the way. But because you´re you and nothing any of them say or do is ever gonna change that.”

You blinked quickly, trying to keep your tears from falling. “Do you really mean that?” you asked quietly.

“I swear on every hair product in the bathroom,” he laughed, and you joined in a second later.

He smiled at the sound. “Are you coming back inside?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

He took your hand again, and this time, you didn’t feel like you were trailing behind him. You felt like you were right where you belonged.

-------------

Inside, the event was still in full swing, but William didn’t drift back into the crowd.

Instead, he led you to one of the cocktail tables off to the side, ordered you a drink and sat beside you with his arm around your shoulder.

When people came up to him, he smiled, but he didn’t entertain them for long.

When another woman approached with that flirty tone, he didn’t give her the polite brush-off. He simply turned to you and kissed your cheek.

It was a small thing, but in that moment it felt big.

You saw the woman blink, then glance between the two of you before she smiled politely and excused herself.

William leaned into you. “Better?”

You leaned into him, heart full. “Much.”

--------------

Back in your hotel room later that night, everything felt quieter and softer, like the tension of the evening had finally melted away, leaving just you and William, as you were meant to be.

You kicked off your heels the second the door closed, groaning in relief. “My feet are killing me.”

William chuckled and dropped the room key on the table. “You looked incredible, though.”

You gave him a look. “My toes are genuinely numb. I think beauty might actually be pain.”

He laughed in acknowledgement while he was already slipping off his tuxedo jacket and loosening his tie. “Do you need help with the dress?”

You turned around without answering and he unzipped it slowly, carefully, almost sensually.

His fingers brushed the bare skin of your back, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

You didn’t stop him.

Once free, you let the dress fall to the floor and stepped out of it, his glaze roaming over your body until you tugged on the hotel robe.

William toed off his shoes and changed into sweats and a shirt while you whipped off our makeup and tossed your jewelry on the nightstand.

Finally, the two of you ended up on the bed. Him stretched out, you curled into his side with your legs draped over his.

You felt warm, safe and exhausted.

William pulled the blanket over you both, one hand resting on your thigh, the other scrolling through photos on his phone.

“Look at this one,” he said, holding up a picture of you two from the red carpet. “We look hot together.”

“Speak for yourself,” you laughed.

“Babe,” he groaned in disbelief, setting the phone down. “Don’t make me fight you on this again.”

You buried your face in his chest. “I know. I´m sorry. I just… it was a lot tonight. Seeing how people look at you and how those women flock to you. I just felt like I didn’t measure up…”

He shook his head immediately. “You don’t have to measure up to anyone. You´re not in competition.”

You looked up at him. “It´s hard not to feel like I am in those situations.”

Willima stat up straighter, shifting so you were facing each other fully. “Okay. Listen to me,” he started gently. “I love you. Not you on a red carpet or you in a dress. You. The one who is always honest with me and weird and overthinks everything while trying to be chill even when you´re clearly not. I love every part of that.”

Your eyes prickled again, but you smiled.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know I´m used to this stuff. The events and the attention and the cameras, but I don’t care about that stuff. The second you walked away tonight; I couldn’t focus on anything else. I was standing there thinking where you went because I didn’t want to do any of it without you.”

You swallowed and then mumbled. “I didn’t want to make it about me.”

“You are it for me,” he said without hesitation. “You´re the best part of my life. These nights don’t mean anything without you in them.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed in the best way.

He reached for your hand, playing with your fingers as he spoke. “I´m never going to let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong. Especially not in a room I´m in.”

After a short pause he continued before you could interject. “You´re mine and I´m yours. That´s it. That’s the whole story.”

“William,” you breathed, voice tight with emotion.

He leaned in and kissed you. Soft, slow and grounding. The kind of kiss that said “I see you and I choose you. Again, and again.”

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours like it had on the balcony earlier in the night.

“You´re the only one I want to come home to. After a shitty practice or a bad game, after a long road trip or just dinner with the guys, for as long as you will have me.”

You blinked fast, but the tears slipped out anyway.

You let out a quiet laugh. “God, I´m a mess tonight.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “You´re my mess.”

You curled tighter into him, heart full in a way that had nothing to do with the champagne or fancy clothes or flashing lights.

It was just him, just the warmth of his body and the quiet of this moment along with the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life.

This time you believed it. Not because he said it, but because you knew he really meant it.

[ditzybrainlaura]

You don't need any more motivation than this, surely?

Go to the gym. Work your glutes. Work your quads. Work your hamstrings. Do cardio. Train a little back for backshots.

Your reward will be a cute bottom, that women will LOVE to peg.

Thank you @the-duchess-luna for the picture 🫶🏻

❤️ @sissydollyisabella 🩵 @happy-sissy-madison 🩷 @sissy-sabrinas-world 😂 @ditzybrainlaura 😍 @christina-tiara 🏳️‍⚧️ @prissytutu 🦋 @annas-worldxoxo 🌈 @sweetie-lindsey 😍 @veras-caption-haven 💓 @amberleannethenewgirl💋 @incognitoelizabeth 🍼 @sissymissyxo 💅 @honeyhornypup 🥵 @sweatersub 😍 @cassandra-the-baby-girl 😇 @goodwitchkylie 🏳️‍🌈 @its-me-mandi-duhhh 👑 @cutieecassie 🔥 @sleepy-bimbo-bambi-3 ♠️ @selenasgirltiffany21 🤍 @uneamifemme 💖 @leiamoony 😩 @pinkyfaggyx 🍆 @just-kailee 🎀 @sissyloren2 🩵 @remygurl45 💕 @supremefaggotdestiny6912 💝 @karlie-xoxo 😈 @beta-dreamsva 💖 @2inchchelsea🤠 @sienna-thee-sissy 🥺 @goodgirlmadison 🤗 @stacey-xox-bimbo ❤️‍🔥 @elektrarose 🤭 @jessigurll 💋 @jade-the-princess 👸 @thessa-xox 💘 @kimberly-kash 🥰 @youknowmemomma 🫠 @christina-tiara 💞 @pinkfemgurl 😵‍💫

[danidrabbles]

Ohhhhhh, how I loved seeing these two again 🥹

The start is so fitting for them, him chasing her through a garden. I love how much fun they're having, how the laughter is echoing through the air, how she can picture his scowl as he chases her. And of course he catches up with her.

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.” > 🥺

“Can’t hide from me.” And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses. Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet > 😳

The imagery you use is so nice, the plants and trees and flowers (more on that later), but also stuff like this,

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

I also love how much they need, all the Hunger licks at you both, "s'what you needed, isn't it?", "Please," "I need it. Need you." but still taking their sweeeet sweet time working him inside 🤭

Logan's "Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-" but then coming before she is, is sooooooo... good. Pff. 😵‍💫. Wow.

And how her abilities come out, and how he uses his 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Like, this whole bit????

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

Please, god, that's so.... strangely romantic 🥹

AND THE EEEEND. His "Don't. I like 'em." when she tries to pluck the flowers off herself 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Thank you for writing more for these two, and thank you for sharing 🥰

— through the garden

logan howlett x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 2.4k

tags: mutant!f!reader, (newly) established relationship, domestic predator/prey, a chase through the grounds, two cuties in love, flowers as a physical & metaphorical symbol for love, outdoor sex, PiV, creampie

a/n: part of heat waves. a little summer blorbo series ☀️ I imagined the reader in this to be the same as from eden - back when they first met 💖

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

Logan finds you in the garden.

You hoped he would. Needing the open sky above him after so many hours spent inside training - almost as much as he needs you.

Finally leaning into that pull that has been woven between you since the beginning.

Taking root, blossoming in your ribcage until you felt full to bursting. Biting back soft sentiments, knowing it was too soon to voice something your heart had known for so long.

A silhouette that starts dark against the stone walls of the mansion. The familiar white tee and worn blue jeans streaked with a sunset of pink and orange as he moves closer.

That steady pace that you had picked up on, kneeling in the dirt. Weeds yanked from the root, exchanged for fresh bulbs. Eyes flicking towards the sounds of his steps. Slowly rising, and you wait - the heavy weight of your responsibilities shed out here.

Leaving just you and your thudding heart behind.

Your gaze meet his, that pretty shade of brown and green. Close enough now that he can catch the flash of your teeth with your grin and then -

You’re running.

There’s a surprised huff behind you - you can picture his frown, that drawn-together pull of dark eyebrows. A heartbeat passing, before the thud of his boots follow.

You knew he would. Unable to help, after he saw you. Some animal part inside him let free - enticing him into the chase.

Only your knowledge of the grounds and lightness of foot keeps you a step ahead. A laugh echos in the hedge garden - the press of your feet against worn stone, weaving down the paths. Ducking around berms, flowers that spill over in shade of pink and pale cream.

Following a trail you know as well as the back of your hand. Leading you deeper, and deeper into the grounds.

Anticipation spikes, with each heavy step behind you. The thudding spike of excitement and fear blending with the hope that he will catch up.

Heat already pooling low, with that tell-tale twinge of need. Damping the fabric between your thighs, as you flit through the thick line of trees.

Goosebumps prickle across your skin, sweat beading at the nape of your neck.

Just managing to make it through to other side. The long, dirt path before you, framed with the thin, pointed junipers you’d had tended yourself.

Only the roof of the mansion visible behind you through the tall grove as you peel off to the left, and race towards the lake.

The steps behind you coming faster on open ground, as your heart inches up your throat. Unhindered by the weight he carries now, making up for the time spent winding through trees.

Finally catching you, at the old tree by the edge of the water. Arms encircling your waist, ensnaring you as you gasp with surprise and pleasure.

A nose buried in your neck, as Logan crushes your back against his chest. Ignoring the way you wiggle in his grasp, the words almost growled out.

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses.

Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet. A reveal one he loosened during one of your early nights together.

On another evening, you might be embarrassed. Reminded again how he must have known how you felt long before you told him. Cataloging the thundering of your heart. The look in your eyes, the perfume that bloomed across your skin.

Holding himself back for weeks, waiting for you to come to him. To finally take the offers he’d been dangling, wrapped up in slick innuendo - for what they really were.

The butterflies in your stomach burst from their branches. A thrill igniting, pulsing low. Awakening that dormant part inside you, one that wouldn’t mind a chase like this again.

And he senses it - that change inside you, as you squirm to face him. The way your eyes darken when they finally meet his own blown-wide ones, that hitch in your breath.

“And what are you going to do?” You manage, “Now that you caught me?”

His own gaze turning greedy. The flash of teeth in a knowing smile, before his mouth presses to yours.

Letting you feel what the chase - what you - did to him. His tongue dips against the seam of your lips as your hand flattens over his racing heart. How he tugs you flush until it’s impossible to miss the thick bulge in his jeans, straining against the zipper.

The words growled out, with the rut of his hips.

“Gonna take what’s mine.”

Your moan is swallowed, as you’re lowered with him. Tucked against the tree where so many afternoons had been spent beneath the sprawling branches.

Turning pages and lesson plans jotted down between stolen kisses.

Thighs split to make room for him, as the setting sun is blotted out by the breath of his shoulders. Arching over you - unable to stop touching, now that he has you.

It’s almost like you glow beneath him. The pleased curl of your lips, eyes half-lidded. Soaking in the sun all afternoon, warming you down to your bones.

Turning your limbs leaden, as he molds you to fit him. Elbows braced on broad shoulders as your arms twine around. A broad hand spanning across the small of your back, as you let him steal another kiss.

And then another.

You part for him. Moaning into the lick of his tongue. Fingers twisting into thick, dark hair - mussing its careful styling.

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

Jaw and neck, the pad of his thumb running over your sternum. A knuckle teasing the curve of your breast, as your teeth press against his lip.

Lower, lower.

He cups you, then - a palm curving against your cunt. Hips shifting, as he groans in your ear. Fingers toying at the hem of your shirt, inching it up until his other palm can slip beneath.

Kneading at your breast, feeling the tight bud of your nipple beneath the thin bra.

“We should-“ The start of a protest is half-hearted.

Your game had taken you away from the garden grounds. Unlikely to be disturbed this late in the evening.

And already you’re pressing into his touch - rolling your body until the heel of the hand below grinds against your clit.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Another moan slips free at his words - half command and half plea. Your own fingers sliding from his biceps, the fabric tugged taught over them. Up to lace behind his neck, and draw his mouth down to yours again.

Hunger licks at you both - in the part of your lips, how eager he is to deepen it. Your legs close around his hips as he leans into you, the hand leaving your core so his thigh can press between yours.

His hum echoing yours as the seam of your shorts pull taut, hinting at friction as he gives you something to grind against.

Relief and the need for more twisting together, as he flexes into the roll of your hips. Another nudge and then another, until your own plea slips free.

“Please, Logan.”

There’s another hum, amusement at your impatience - only breaking the kiss long enough to hike your thighs up. The hand leaving your tits to hook around your shorts and underwear. Yanking them down as your knees press against his chest, as his other hand works at the thick, silver belt buckle at his waist.

A sigh against your lips, as he tugs himself free. Pressing you back into the cradle of strong roots as he ruts against your thigh. Hot and heavy, smearing his need against your skin until you manage to reach down.

Fingers encircling the thick shaft of his cock, tipping it until the head nudges against your slit.

Logan is already bucking forward. Knowing you can take it - could smell how ready you were the moment he brought you to the ground.

“Fuck.” It’s ground out, as your heat wraps around him. The slick slide as he sinks in one inch, and then another, “S’what you needed, isn’t it? What you were waiting for.”

“Yes.” You pant, back arching, “Yes, I need it. Need you.”

Eyes fluttering as your ankles end up braced against a shoulder. The bite of his nails against your calf as he seats himself inside you, another betrayal at how deep his need runs as well.

Enough that leaning into it. Near bending you in half in an attempt to get closer. Needing to feel every inch notched deep inside you, pressed flush until the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tease at your clit. The slick drip of your cunt sticky against the heavy sack that rests against your ass.

Stripped down to your bones, you’re just like him.

Needing this as much as he does, still basking in the open air and the sinking sun above, even if you do have to bite back your sounds.

“More.” You manage instead, when he takes too long.

A rough sound in response, almost a growl, before it’s almost becoming too much. Another sharp, single thrust has you fully split open, before he begins short snaps of his hips to keep you full.

Bliss radiates inside you - your fingers quick to drift down, across your belly. Teasing at your clit, as his hands tighten around your legs. Using the leverage to lean back - to watch - as he’s dragged half-way out. The slick sound as he thrusts back in.

How your fingers twitch and stutter. Pressing harder. Lips parting in a pant as he sets a steady rhythm, thighs smacking against the curve of your ass.

Letting your fingers fist in his shirt. Wrinkling the fabric as your hips try to move to meet his. Gasping breath each time he stokes against a spot that brings out the midnight stars early.

Winding you higher, higher. A babble of “yes” and “please”, and “oh my god, don’t stop-“, tumbling from you over and over.

The seeds planted with the first steps of your chase starting to push to the surface, as your fingers trace down to feel him. A low grunt as they tease along his shaft, only to pull more of your slick arousal back up to the throbbing between your thighs.

His gaze snaps back to yours when the words peter out - catching the way you’ve gone stiff, breath held. Eyes half-lidded as your muscles flex beneath his palm, how your fingers move faster as you tighten around his cock.

“Logan-“

“I know.” It’s gritted out.

“Know you’re right fuckin’ there with me. Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-“

The words cut off, with his groan. The long strokes turning shallow again as he grinds himself deep. His hands dropping to the gnarled roots below, the crack of bark as he chases his own end. Another sharp rut, before he’s spilling inside you.

Your answer is a loose tumble of sounds as you follow, with the throb of his cock. Fingers rubbing soaked flesh as the feel of the warmth spreading inside you sends you over the edge.

A cry cracks through the evening light, as the pleasure bursts from you. The small peppering of buds across the roots of the tree unfurling - petals twisting open as you pulse around him. Stretching out in all directions, blooming over your skin and twisting up the trunk of the tree.

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

You’d be one with the earth, without it. Broken down into your base needs, blanketed the emotions buried so deep inside you.

Funny that the man who caused them, would be the one to free you as well.

Silken petals twirl between blunt fingers. A flash of red before the bud is tucked behind your ear. A rose blooming against your temple.

Logan’s expression must match yours, as his arm stretches out. Leaning into this garden you’ve created, cushioned with the physical manifestation of your heart - now worn so clearly on your sleeve.

“Yours, huh?” It slips from you. A call back to earlier - those growled out words as you wriggled in his arms.

“Yeah.” It’s husked out, “That gonna be a problem?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you grin.

“Never.”

There’s a low huff, his own laugh, as his eyes tip up to the sky.

It used to bother you. The blooms. How obvious they made you feel. Nothing hidden, in the sprout of petal across your skin.

But right now-

You don’t think you’d have it any other way.

It takes longer to move. To find your leaden legs again. Tugged to your feet, heat warming your cheeks at you fix your clothes back in place.

Still not ready for the gossip. The teasing, despite everything and the affection laced within the words.

The grounds are dark now, as your hand fits in his. Taking the slower route back home, down the path and through the forest. The mansion looming back into view, as you’re drawn back into your life, once more.

“Logan, wait.”

You almost forget.

The blissful smile faltering as your bare feet dig into the ground. Plucking at the petals that still linger in your hair, trying to rid yourself of the evidence.

Still shy, at the way he affects you. How he makes you lose control - your shared tree will surely remain adorned, until tomorrow.

Hands close around your wrists. The brush of a thumb against your pulse, where your heartbeat thrums. Halting you, drawing them back down as he takes you in.

“Don’t.” Logan husks.

“I like ‘em.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💐 it seriously means the world 💖

[vinnssnake]

@dimpleweek day 4th: possession ❤

Shigeo just turned 18 and what could've gone wrong 😵‍💫 thank god he has a good buddy who can get him home

Not sure if I'll draw more for this week but at least I tried!!

[holding-on-to-josh]

i need to rant about how much i love snap back. this song is an absolute masterpiece in terms of sound, lyrics, harmonies, and meaning. me and my close friend were talking about how amazing this song was yesterday. love you avery

- it has this distinct summer sound that sounds nostalgic to me and it just feels like i’m driving toward the sunset and it gives me a feeling like everything’s gonna be okay, despite the song itself

THIS PART is so deep. it’s like you’re still running from the past, but more so you’re still THINKING about the past which is keeping you from looking into the future and seeing what’s right in front of you. this i feel is something anybody can relate to because we look back a lot on life and try to use it to improve.

This idea of refusing help and possibly pushing away people you love because of how closed off or isolated you may feel. i know for a fact that when i’m going through something or having a rough day i lash out at anyone who tries to talk to me or help, and this lyric is absolutely amazing at describing this feeling of biting the hand that helps you, then giving it stitches.

first of all, the backslide reference! these two songs feel like siblings to me. but about the lyrics, the song is talking about a backslide, a relapse, a return to something. “all of that progress lost today” “it’s a backslide”. feeling like all that work, all that progress is worth nothing because you ended up back at square one. it’s as if you were climbing a slide only to slip back down.

This is not so much about lyrics but more so about structure and sound, BECAUSE THE HARMONIES?? god when i heard those harmonies for the first time on this song i ugly sobbed for a good fifteen minutes because holy crap it sounds amazing. it feels like several different people are telling you it’s all gone, and that’s what anxiety and insecurity feels like to me, like a bunch of tiny voices telling you stuff

don’t get me STARTED on this lyric because if you’re introspective like me and you’re always trying to look into how you feel and why you feel like this, this is insanely relatable. sometimes i’m able to come up with a bunch of reasons that make sense on why i’m feeling a certain way, which can lead to me being able to feel better or deal with it better, but there are also times where i run out of excuses as to why i am this way, why i feel this way. but i just think as humans we won’t always have the answers, and that’s okay

I really like this part because he’s USING THE FALSETTOS TO COMMUNICATE TWO VOICES. he’s talking to the backslide/relapse as if it’s a person (kind of like how nico/blurryface is a person that resembles tyler’s insecurities) and it’s genius. he’s saying “welcome back to the show”, welcome BACK being that this is not a one time occurrence, but something that keeps returning, even if it’s not wanted.

the way i see it, the normal voice is his more rationale than just his insecurities, and this is shown through him saying he better move to a fresher approach, showing that he has a desire to change things up to see if it makes him feel different. and the new adaptation, in my opinion, i see it as him realizing that it may not ever go away fully, but he can adapt because humans adapt.

Let’s not forget this gem. absolute genius at lyrics tyler joseph is, and this line is evil because it cuts so deep. The fact that he’s referring to himself as having elasticity, i see it as him saying he’s changed a lot, or he’s willing to change if it means finding his way back. the feeling of knowing you’ve gotten off track and wanting to get back to where you were before, but not knowing how, so all you can do is pray that you’ll somehow get back there, to how things were before. this further contributes to the backslide theme of the song.

That’s all i have to say for now, just wanted to get that out there because i cannot listen to this song without sobbing my lungs out. 😵‍💫