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#it's not worth trying to push myself even more so i think i'll stop
wolfiesmoon · 3 months
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When you wear their clothes
genshin men x gn!reader
characters featured: xiao, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli and itto
i've been dreaming about genshin a lot lately idk this game has possesed me or smth so i feel like i'm required to write this? Also DAMN im rusty with genshin characters so i apologise profusely for any ooc-ness
(also wrio's is kinda suggestive!!)
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XIAO is confused. Why on earth are you wearing his clothes? He isn't opposed to it specifically, but doesn't understand the appeal or the reason why you do it. "My clothes don't fit you properly. What's the point?" he asks, completely straight faced. You smile. "It reminds me of you when you're not with me!" He just scoffs and says he doesn't get your strange habits before moving on with his day. Somehow though, the image of you in his clothes won't leave his mind for the rest of the day. "Dammit..." he mumbles under his breath, barely audible when nobody's around. Don't bring up his pink cheeks in the evening when he comes back to see you, he will not elaborate.
Similarly, NEUVILLETTE is also confused. This must be another human thing that he isn't familiar with. What does wearing their lover's clothes mean to humans? "Oh, I just missed you... your clothes remind me of you, you know?" You explained when he questioned you on the matter. "Oh, I suppose that makes sense. Do you want more items related to myself for when I am absent?" He asks. While you do want to know what items he would bring you, you turn him down. "I like your shirts the most, because they smell like you and feel like your hugs." He doesn't know why exactly, but he has the urge to kiss you all of a sudden.
WRIOTHESLEY feels distracted when he sees you in his clothes from time to time. He gets busy a lot, so the moments he gets to spend with you feel extra special. But, what is he to do when you look so positively yummy in his shirt? "Hey, mind taking my shirt off? It's... sort of distracting." he admits, taking a sip of his tea. "But, wouldn't it be even more distracting if I took it off now?" you asked, feigning an innocent look. He almost spit out his tea. "I did not mean it like that...! Surely you're just teasing me." You just smiled mischeviously in response, taking a sip out of your own cup. "That's what I thought. I know that look."
ZHONGLI thinks you look odd in his clothes. Odd, but not bad by any means. You actually look quite endearing. "I'll make sure to commit this to memory." he says calmly, sitting down next to you on the bed. "You say that every time you're with me." you poke his shoulder gently, smiling up at him. "That's because everything about you is worth remembering, I suppose." Still, he thinks this specific memory is one he will treasure for a long, long time. "Oh my..." you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, hugging his arm. Actually, he changed his mind, you're positively adorable in his clothes.
You're basically asking to get attacked with a flurry of kisses if you wear ITTO'S clothes in front of him. That's like, a show of affection! That you're totally his and no one else's! And that also means it's a cause for celebration! "Agh, Itto- Stop!" you try and fail to push his face away. "Hehehe..." he gives you a bright smile and places a big ol' kiss on your lips. "You should wear my clothes more often!!!" he felt proud of himself, puffing out his chest. "Ummm, whatever you say..." you're kind of worried that if you do that, your face will never escape his lips.
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luveline · 5 months
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Hi Jade, I’m thinking about soulmate prince Steve again. Can I request something (any length) with reader starting to feel like she fits in and finding something she enjoys doing around the palace (lending a hand in the library? Working in the garden? Helping in the kitchen?) and someone makes a comment about it and she stands up for herself?
Basically I think it’d be nice to see how her relationship with Steve getting stronger helps her feel more confident in her position
prince steve au ♡ fem
You find that with proper instruction, time, and resources, you love to cook. It's an odd thing to discover in your twenties, perhaps; any of your peers who liked to cook were already learning by the time you left school, dipping into restaurants in the wealthier north city, or training for prestigious positions in the Palace kitchens.
Steve sneaks in to see you every now and then. You're pushing the brunt of your palm into a soft dough when you feel his touch, a quick stroke of the knuckle against your lower back before his hand comes up, cupping your shoulder. 
"What's this?" he asks. "It looks good, smells good. You're smiling." 
"Yes, I'm smiling, I'm happy. And you've come to see me." 
"That's why you're smiling?" he asks. 
A strand of hair has fallen into his eyes, and a second chunk follows as he leans in. Not to kiss you, though you'd probably welcome it, but to make sure you can see his smile too. 
"Where's your crown?" you ask. 
"I'm striking. How ridiculous it is they expect me to wear it in my own home, I don't care if there are deputies visiting." 
"Can I take off my finery?" You've been dressed in very nice clothes considering they're now covered in flour, but the weight of the jewellery is the real annoyance. "It's too much, Steve." 
Steve's gaze dips down to the mass of jewels held against your collarbone. "Too much," he agrees, reaching around you. His fingers brush the back of your neck, eliciting a tiny metal clink as he unclasps your necklace and pulls it free. "Much better. You don't need any of this to look fine." He pockets it.
You stroke the loose hairs from his face. 
"Oh, sorry." You wipe at the smudge of flour you've left behind. "Sorry. I'm making it worse. Good thing you're so pale." 
"Alright." He looks like he might giggle. "So mean to me. I'll go do some fencing in the sunshine and maybe you'll grow to love me." He does giggle, then, at his own joke no less. 
He expresses that your loaf of bread should please god end up on his plate first, and then he kisses your cheek and tells you he'll see you at dinner. It's a very nice farewell that gives an extra aura of happiness to your bread-making. 
"You won't actually give the Prince your bread, will?" one of the cooks asks. 
It's innocuous, but it pisses you off. Steve is a Prince, yes, but he's your boyfriend, your soulmate (scream), he's your equal in partnership even if he's a royal, and isn't his treatment enough proof? Why would he come down to the kitchens to dote on you? Why would he ask to try your bread first? 
"I don't appreciate the idea that it isn't worth his time. I'm making something and he likes me enough to want to try it. Why wouldn't I give it to him?" you ask, not angry, exactly, no icy cold zing. Just irritated and honest about it. "It might not be perfect, but if he wanted perfect he could ask for it." 
"Who says you aren't perfect?" Steve asks.
You flush with heat. He grins at you and the cook who'd spoken, as well as the other assistants and apprentices who stop to stare. "Forgot to give you this." He presses a small pouch into your hand. "Dinner," he promises. 
"See you," you promise back. 
You let him leave before you turn from the counter to open his gifted pouch against your abdomen. Inside is a generous handful of sugar pear drops, the kind you ate together on your first stolen date a few weeks ago, and a note. 
To tide you over. 
P.s if I didn't make myself say it, you look super pretty today and I can't wait to see you tonight 
–Steve 
You put one of the sugar pear drops under your tongue and hide the note safe inside your jacket pocket, schooling your features into impassiveness as your soulmark glows a gauzy cerulean. 
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angelrari · 8 months
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emotional bruises · pt. v
lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader
faceclaim: emilia mernes
a/n; hi! once again tysm for reading this and leaving nice comments, i hope you enjoy this part!! (i feel we were all waiting for this to happen)
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lando could feel his heart racing. these past two months he has imagined on multiple occasions how it would be when you met again, but he had never imagined it would happen this way. of course, your manager probably planned this months ago. whenever you were in the same town as him, your manager would contact the mclaren team and, together, they would make sure you stayed on the same hotel floor. standing in front of you, he felt paralyzed. he couldn't stop himself from scanning your body, admiring how pretty you looked.
your heart was beating so loud you thought lando could probably hear it and when you felt his gaze move up and down your body you felt the room temperature rise. god, he was handsome. it was undeniable that, even after these months, there was a connection between you so strong that it could cause a hurricane.
the elevator doors started closing and lando quickly moved his hand to stop it from doing so.
"hi y/n". he said, feeling uncertain about how you'd react.
"hi lando".
you stepped forward, leaving the elevator and planned to go straight to your room, but you lando spoke before you could move any further.
"please, let's not do this". he begged, looking straight into your eyes. "i- please, let's talk".
"lando, you know it's not a good i-".
"just ten minutes". he said and you shook your head. "please, y/n".
you followed lando to his hotel room in the same way that alice followed the rabbit down the hole. you knew it wasn't a good idea, but you were too damn curious. his room was an exact replica of yours, except yours was way messier. still feeling tipsy, you carefully sat down on the small sofa and he did too, after putting down two glasses of cold water in front you two.
"i've planned this moment in my mind so many times, but now i don't even know where to st-".
"why didn't you call?" you asked, interrupting his speech. "start there, give me the reasons why you didn't even try to explain it".
"because i thought it would cause more damage and it would hurt us both-".
"you gave up. you gave this whole relationship up, these past two years". you said as you felt your eyes start to water. "you didn't call because it wasn't worth fighting for, right?"
"no, i didn't gave up-".
"you did lan-".
"for fuck's sake, let me speak for a second". he said angrily. you could see it in his eyes, you were getting on his nerves. he took a deep breath before speaking up again. "i didn't call you or message you because i knew i ruined our relationship, because i felt so guilty knowing i had the best person by my side and that i lost her. and it was my fault. and i hated that, i hated myself for being selfish, for not realizing what i had when you were by my side".
"lando-".
"fuck, y/n, i missed you like crazy and i don't think i'll ever stop being sorry about what i did. you deserve better. i know. but god, i can't stop thinking about you. and i reread all of your messages every fucking night. and i still have your clothes in my wardrobe in monaco, because i can't throw them away". his blue eyes starred deeply into yours and you felt the sincerity in his words. "i never felt this way for anyone else and i'm terrified because i don't think i'll ever feel this way again. i miss you and it's haunting me the fact that i know that i lost you and that i still love you".
you couldn't stop the tears and neither could lando. feeling overwhelmed, you started sobbing into your the palms of your hands. you wished you were sober, so you could stand up and leave. but you didn't. neither did you pushed lando away when he held you in his arms for the first time in nearly two months. he hugged you tight as he kept whispering how sorry he was. you closed your eyes as his right hand caressed your cheek. maybe he misunderstood, maybe you way too drunk to process what was going on, but when he leaned in you neither did you stop him from kissing you.
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the next morning you called lily and told her everything that happened last night. you knew you messed up and now you wanted to run away. facing lando would probably be too much for you heart to take. so when she suggested you stayed at her hotel instead, you messaged your manager so he could start asking if it was possible. thankfully he didn't question you and he quickly arranged everything so you could stay in the hotel where lily and alex were staying. last night was a mistake and you swore to yourself it wouldn't happen again.
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yourusername
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liked by jacquemus, heidiberger_ and 1,087,128 others
yourusername maybe i had to rent an studio because maybe i wrote a song and maybe i sent the demo to the label so maybe it will be on my album
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username maybe i'm going insane wtf
username won't you get in trouble for spoiling this?
yourusername maybe!
username pause- ALBUM????
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hell no. lando called late at night, when you were in the empty hotel lobby listening to the voice notes your producer sent about the new song you wrote. lando knew that it'd been a mistake, he knew it the moment you lelt his hotel room last night and his thoughts only revolved around you. he knew it when he knocked on your door and nobody answered it. he knew it when he called daniel and he'd told him you were staying somewhere else. and somehow you felt sorry for leaving without giving him an explanation, but this couldn't happen again. you had to put an end to it.
"are you serious?". he said. by his tone you could sense he was mad. "this gotta be some fucking joke".
"last night was a mistake-". you started to explain, but he interrupted you before you could elaborate.
"and that's how you're gonna treat me? you're gonna run away and pretend i never exist for months until you want me again?".
"i'm pretty damn sure it wasn't me who initiated the whole thing yesterday".
"but you sure kept it fucking going!". his angry tone rose, quickly making your blood boil.
"look, i was drunk-".
"that's not an excuse".
"the same way it wasn't the night you cheated on me and i'm sure you still fucking used it!". you shouted. "look, lando. i don't know what you expected, but it's over. it was over that fucking night. it was over the night you chose somebody else over me. and i'm not gonna change my mind on this over some drunk sex".
the line went silent. lando hanged up, just like he used to do when you fought. what an idiot. you quickly made your way to the elevator and prayed that nobody heard you screaming at your ex. you wanted to get to your hotel room, be alone, grab the pillow and scream until all of the frustration was gone. you got on the elevator and, still feeling shaken from all of the emotions, you closed your eyes as you brought your hands to your face.
"hey, are you ok?". you heard a familiar voice ask and you instinctively looked up. it was carlos. he had got on the elevator before the doors closed. "y/n, you're shaking".
"it's nothing, carlos". you lied. you could see on his face that he was genuinely worried. "i'm fine- don't worry i'm gonna go-".
"i'm not leaving you alone like this, y/n". he said.
you tried to convince him that everything was fine, but carlos wasn't buying it. your eyes were red, you were shaking and you couldn't think straight. there was no way you could've fooled him. so when you arrived at the door of your hotel room and he had asked you if there was anything he could do to help you, you said:
"carlos, i- i think could really use a friend right now".
and he stayed.
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taglist: @roseseraj @katcontrreras @boiohboii @eugene-emt-roe @inesven @jjsprobablywrong @nooshytushie @willowpains @shessthunderstoms @thecubanator2 @black-swan-blog27 @sltwins @peachiicherries @ietss @elliegrey2803 @@be-your-coffee-pot @leclercloml @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @nooshytushie @incoherenciass @ironmaiden1313 @nmw-am @hopefulinlove
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97keanu · 5 months
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Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. In this part, reader chooses to embrace one of her destinies, healing the past and becoming whole again. She uses her new found self to save someone who didn't even know he needed saving, but the path there is laid with pain and darkness. She becomes something she never thought she would, and she finds out if evil vampires can really be saved or not...
Tags/CW: DARKfic, horrorfic, vampire!John Wick, blood/violence, soul connections, past lives, reincarnation, ghosts, supernatural AU, witch!neo, slayer!Constantine, love triangle is concluded, blood drinking, virgin!reader, smut, p in v, enemies to lovers, dub/noncon, innocent/crybaby(ish) coded!reader, john is an evil vampire asshole, soon to be cock addicted!reader, semi "stockholm syndrome"!reader, reader who discovers her bad side, reader who gives into lust, hedonistic!reader, doggy, rough, aggressive, primal, oral (f receiving.), so many smutty scenes.
A/N: In this choice, you will have to give up a lot to find love, but is it worth it in the end?
Go back.
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"I have always felt as if I were missing something." You say, and Neo looks at you with worry, but nods, listening.
"Neo, I need you to stop the barrier between me and Helen." You can't believe you're saying this, but you know it's what you want.
Neo doesn't say anything for a long time, and you worry he won't do this for you.
"Are you sure that's what you really want?" You can hear the sadness in his voice. "He won't stop hunting you if you do this."
"I know." You say plainly, but bite your lip anxiously. A part of you knows that this isn't the safe decision. But you also know you haven't stopped thinking about that night, the way John's body pinned you to the wall. Temptation continued to knock at your door.
"I just have this feeling about it, and I...I have to do this." You assure yourself, trying to will being right about this.
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You're worried he won't understand, but Neo sighs and takes a cigarette from behind his ear, lighting it up and nodding.
"If that's what you really want, I'll do it. But there's no reversing it when it's done." Smoke seeps from his lips as he talks, finally billowing out with a long breath when he's done.
You think for a moment. Do you really want to give up everything to become whole with your past self? Is she even really you, or have you experienced things so differently that you've become two separate beings, still forced together by fate? And if so, why would fate keep cycling you together?
More importantly, you know this is just a way to get close to John in the end. You know he's no good, that there is so little light in him, but you want him all the same. You wonder if those feelings are even yours or Helen's, but in the end, it won't matter.
You decide that there's only one way to find out, and you look back into Neo's warm brown eyes and nod.
"I have to know. I can't go on being in this purgatory between myself and her." Neo says nothing and stands, pouring a cup of black coffee from a dirty little pot in the corner of his room.
"Alright, but it's going to be a long night," he takes a deep sip of the coffee. "And it's likely to hurt."
You take a breath, and calm yourself, readying for anything.
"Let's do it." You affirm, and your hands clench nervously.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Neo moves a dirty, dusty rug from the center of his room. The concrete beneath it has been used for many rituals, stains and etching here and there. He draws in the summoning circle, writing it there with chalk and herbs. He carefully transcribes sigils from his own spellbook, making sure to work carefully, but efficiently.
"I don't think Constantine will take the news well," he calls over his shoulder while he works, and you sit on a rickety little stool he scrounged up.
"I know," you hate thinking about it, so you try to push Constantine from your mind right now. "But he can't make my life choices for me."
And it's true. As much as you owe him for saving your life, and as much as you love him as a friend, maybe even something more at one time, you can't let his wants come before what you feel deep inside your heart.
You know the vampire John Wick is evil, years of grief can do that to anyone, but you also believe that there's a way to get past that. And you can't deny it any longer, the way he's touched you, body, mind and soul, is something you feel you've been waiting your whole life for. You feel the need to at least try, if not, at least maybe with your soul merged with Helen's once and for all, you feel complete for the first time.
You bite the inside of your cheek nervously as Neo continues to finish the first part of the ritual, and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to internally call out to Helen, if that's possible.
Minutes pass and all you hear is your own soft breath, and Neo's quiet muttering and movements on the concrete.
Then, something stirs in your chest, and you hear her.
"Please, save him if you can, I hate to see John suffering from being a man he would despise..."
You nod to yourself, feeling more affirmed in your decision.
You try to focus on calming breaths until Neo is ready for you.
Soon enough, you're sat on the dusty, cold floor of Neo's apartment, lines of chalk and fancy ritual symbols encompassing you. The smell of incense fills your lungs and Neo walks carefully over the chalk to anoit your forehead, eyes, and heart with an oil that tingles when it touches your skin. He finishes by lighting candles that encircle you, and he begins the ritual.
"I want you to focus on the parts of you that are Helen, and I want you to welcome those parts into your own being." he pauses and looks you in the eye with an emotion you cannot place. "You may see things, hear things, feel things that you cannot explain, and it may be painful, but you will work through it. I believe in you."
Somehow, it helps that no matter what, Neo supports your choice and is on your side. You're grateful for his neutrality and assistance.
You let him know you're ready to begin, and Neo starts speaking in a language you're unfamiliar with.
You close your eyes and try to imagine what he said.
You think about your first meeting with John Wick, and how even though you were so fearful, his touch was something your body yearned for. How electric it felt, how those emotions might have been Helen calling out to him, but you're also sure that it was apart of you that desired him as well. You've been so chaste all your life, and you know that you've longed for someone to ignite that kind of passion inside of you.
You welcome that desire, that yearning, that want. And you feel your heart swell, as if there was so much weight inside of you, stirring and trying to get comfortable.
You hear Helen's voice once more.
"Come, I need to show you something."
You follow that voice with your mind and heart, and you feel yourself rising, the cold cement underneath you fading away, and your mind finding a light in the inky black darkness.
You reach out, and when your hand touches the cold metal of a candlestick, your breath hitches. You can feel the object, really feel it in this place. The candle's light flickers as you take it, and hold it close, the warmth from the small flame touching your cold cheeks and neck.
You walk, feeling as if you're walking on nothing at all, until the light begins to cast a hallway before you. It's still ever so dark, but as you move, you notice it becoming more and more solid, the scene becoming extremely real to you.
You hear the voice again.
"This way..."
You follow where you're being let, and a door opens. You see a woman who looks just like you, standing and turning to see you. She looks pleased, walking forward with a confident stride. You open your mouth to speak to her, but she gets closer, walking so close that she walks right through you.
And suddenly you're her, and you see what she walking towards.
John Wick stands in the door way, his eyes dark, no red to be seen. He smiles at you, and opens his arms as you come to embrace him. You can tell by his smile he is still a vampire, but the lust for blood is gone, the grief in his eyes is no longer masked with hate and anger. Instead, he is simply happy, kissing you everywhere he can get his lips on, and you're there in his arms, not frightened, but giggling with glee.
You watch as he turns you and holds you from behind, his mouth on your neck, kissing and sucking softly. He teases you, and you can feel the shivers of delight he gives with each kiss.
And suddenly, you understand why Helen has wanted to come back to this, these moments with John. You feel a small wave of doubt on if that's even possible, but you know you have to try.
You feel as if a breath of life has been blown into you, and when you close your eyes and lean into John, you know you've also leaned into Helen, and as you realize that your heart swells. It feels as if your chest may even burst from how much is being taken up in such a small space, but slowly the pain dulls, and you find yourself fading back into the darkness.
You open your eyes and see Neo standing over you, his eyebrows drawn in concern. You blink, letting the world come back into focus, and when you do, you notice how everything looks brighter, more vibrant.
You wonder how different things will be now that you look through your own and Helen's eyes, in unison now.
"You made it," Neo says, then looks around your form. "Your aura's evened out, but into a new color entirely. Do you feel any different?"
You stare up at him, not sure what to say, the whole world feeling much too big and large for you now.
"I..." You start, then swallow the lump in your throat as reality sets in. "I feel...complete."
A few tears fall down the creases in the corners of your eyes, wetting your hair along the way. Neo gives a soft smile, then offers a hand, letting you sit up.
You can sense him now. John is out there, and he knows what's happened. It's only a matter of time before he comes to claim you.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You decide to come to him. You part ways with Neo and go out into the darkness of the night. You leave the city, Neo's apartment close to a wooded area nearby. You don't want to be interrupted this time.
You know this is dangerous. That John is not that warm and loving man that Helen showed you in her vision to you. You know that man, if he still exists, must be hidden deep. You can no longer deny the pull to him, however, and your feet keep going forward no matter what fears stir in your belly.
You walk, crunching over orange leaves and fallen twigs. The full moon illuminates your path and you feel as if your skin is ignited, sensations you wouldn't have thought possible are being made clear to you. When a critter scurries away, or an owl flaps it's great wings above you, you almost know before the creatures even know their own next moves. That's why, when John steps out of the shadows behind you, you already know he's there.
"I've seen it." You speak to him without turning. "I've seen the man you used to be."
You hear nothing for a few moments, and your breath softly hangs in the cold October air.
"You have no idea if that man still exists inside me," he finally speaks, his voice deep and controlled. "And yet, my little slayer, I find you offering yourself to me so easily."
"Helen showed me, told me of the love that still burns in your heart for her." You didn't hear him move, but John is standing directly behind you now.
"So now you know," his breath moves the hair on the back of your head. "That I am intrigued by you for that sole purpose. Do you not worry I shall use you as a vessel to get to my true love?"
"No," you know it doesn't matter now that your souls are joined. The truth is, you've always been Helen, and that is a fate you could never escape.
"So you've joined your past then..." He thinks for a moment, a clawed hand slowly running itself up your arm, ever so lightly touching it.
"Does it not bother you that she was a vampire, slayer?" He tilts his head with curiosity while softly running his hand up your shoulder to your neck, gently feeling the pulse there.
"It's a part of me. I cannot deny the past or the parts of myself I do not like. It's what makes me whole..." You know it to be true, and you look up, blinking at the bright moon that watches the scene of hunter and hunted below it. You wonder which one the moon thinks you are.
"I have been waiting for you for a very, very long time." John's voice is soft now, surprisingly full of an ache you couldn't understand. You can sense how badly he wants you, he needs you, what he doesn't want to admit.
"And now here I am," you say, your voice quivering for a moment as you walk into such a different path of life. "Asking you to give me your heart once more."
The vampire laughs softly, his hand moving from your neck to play with a loose strand of your hair.
"You ask so much of me." he pauses for a moment, then whispers out. "And would you still give yourself to me knowing that I may never change my wicked ways?"
"I know the real John is in there. Not the killer you've become."
"You sound so sure of yourself. I do not wish to set you up for failure, slayer. Even though my fangs throb and my throat dries from how badly I want you so." He can't deny his bloodlust for you, and a shiver runs down your spine as he speaks, moving aside your hair and whispering this into your neck.
"You believe I should fear you, John Wick?" You feel a confidence building in your stomach despite how frightened you truly do feel.
"Oh," John laughs as he gently scraps his teeth on your delicate skin. "You should be terrified, my dear..."
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in suddenly. You cry out as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, and his hand moves to clutch your throat as he tastes you. You stand there, shaking in his grip, like a fearful deer in the wolf's mouth. Too startled and so quickly dominated by John to run, to fight back. The pain from his bite quickly turns to pleasure, building in your breast and following all the way down to between your thighs. You shudder from his touch, his mouth moving perfectly to carefully and slowly drink every drop of you he can. He's been waiting for this for so long, he couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to, when you so freely trusted him and presented yourself to him.
A moan escapes your lips, and suddenly his free hand is groping your breast, feeling how tender the flesh is there and sending waves of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, pulling you into him and grinding your ass against his hardening cock. You have saved yourself for so long, but never knew you were saving yourself to be taken by such a predator. You hear John's soft growls as he bites you deeper now, taking more of your blood than he originally planned. You're just so sweet, so delicious, and fear mixes with your pleasure as you wonder if he will ever stop, or if he will drain you right here for being such a stupid little whore for him.
You reach up, your hands tangling in his mess of long, dark hair, and you can't help but need him in deeper, drinking you in just the right way that it sends waves of pleasure through your body. John growls become more animalistic, the need and the want overwhelming him. With the pleasure you're feeling, you find your mind foggy and dazed, the thought of letting John kill you somehow turning you on even though you know that's not what you should want.
You find yourself grinding your own hips into him, your legs parting, and John's hand on your hip slipping down, between your legs, beneath your skirt, and grabbing a handful of your wet pussy roughly. He grips your panties, pulling them up harshly so they slip in between your tender lips, finding the perfect spot to grind against your sensitive clit. He works you like that, fucking you with your own panties, and drinking deeper still until you think you may slip into the darkness of pleasure that coaxes you so sweetly. And you let him, a little lamb to the slaughter, looking up at him with big wet doe eyes that ask to be killed so gently.
Just as you think you've truly made a mistake, fear coiling in your stomach and making the pleasure you feel heightened to a degree you don't think you can handle, John pulls his fangs from your neck. He laps the wound there, and it slowly heals, but he's not done with you.
"You've made the mistake of trusting a monster." His voice is full of cruelness and lust. "And now I shall show you what happens when you do."
Your head is so light from the loss of blood, and you can barely fight back, your body so weak. Without warning he flings you into the ground of the forest, leaves and twigs scrapping your hands and knees. Your body falls without a fight, so easily manipulated at this point. You can hardly think of the reality of the consequences you've yet to face from doing such a thing.
John is at your hips once more, grabbing your ass and positioning so perfectly face down ass up. You look back at him, eyes glossy and dazed, tears you have no control of overflowing and dropping onto the dirty ground. Your cheek lays against the earth, dirt beginning to sully your perfect little face.
"It's so sweet you thought you could fix me." He laughs as he rips your underwear, the sound echoing into the quiet night.
Your bare ass faces him, the cold air teasing your extremely hot and wet cunt. He slaps your ass with a satisfying noise, grabbing it and digging his claws in just enough to hurt.
"You're going to regret giving yourself up to me so easily." His cock is now free from his pants, and he spits on your pussy, rubbing it in and mixing it with your already budding wetness, using the tip of his large cock to do so.
He pauses and watches you as you look up at him so innocently, lip quivering, tears falling, too dazed from blood loss to fight him. And then, just when you think he won't go through with it, he plunges all of his long, girthy cock into you in one harsh blow. You've never been fucked before, so the pain reels in your mind and you cry out, hands gripping the earth. For a moment, you try to crawl away from his cock, using most the energy you have left to do so. John laughs, reaching forward with one hand to grab your hips and thrust himself back deeper inside of you, using the other to grab a handful of your hair, pulling you from the earth painfully. Leaves fall off your cheek where they stuck, and you can only look up at the stars and the crimson eyes of the man who's taking everything from you.
"After this, you will no longer be able to deny me. You will no longer be able to go back to being an innocent little slayer." he thrusts into you once more, your mouth opening for a silent scream as you are filled up more and more by his cock, beyond what you ever thought you could take.
"You will be my pretty little whore, a slave to my cock, and a slut that loves to let me drain her." The worst part was, you knew it was true.
Even now, barely able to keep your eyes open from being drunken so deeply, you craved the pleasure those fangs gave you. You hate how your body betrays you, the way it feels so good to be dominated and fucked by John right now. Your legs quiver and shake on the dirty ground from how badly you want to cum. If only your sensitive little clit had attention right now.
"I want you to say it." John says, looking into your eyes as he fucks you and wrenches your hair. "I want you to say that you're mine, and I might just let you cum."
You bite your lip, trying to focus on the pain there instead of how good John's cock is, not wanting to give in. His free hand slaps your ass once more, taking a few hits out on it and leaving handprints that slowly redden. You hate how good it feels to be so degraded by him, for your body to have the sole purpose of being used up by a much more powerful being such as him. It's twisting your mind, rewriting all the training you had as a slayer and making you the perfect little whore.
Your mouth opens and cries out as John pull you up off the ground further by your hair, til your finger tips can barely touch the earth. He reaches around and grabs a handful of your breast, which he slips his hand under your blouse to do so. He quickly gets to your bare skin there, and plays with your nipple, twisting and pulling just the right way. It drives you mad, and you can barely breath as you're overcome with the sensation of that and John thrusting deeper and deeper inside of you.
"Give it up, slayer...You know how badly you crave this. Just admit you're my little toy from here on out and I'll be nice for once." His voice is now in your head, wrapping and twisting around in there, your ability to fight back dwindling more and more.
You can feel John's cock begin to swell, wanting so badly to finish you off. You grit your teeth and try to ignore how badly you want this, and how desperate you are to cum under any circumstance.
"You should decide quick, or else I'm going to use your sweet little cunt as my cumdump and be done with you." John growls, twisting your nipple so hard you cry out into the night.
"I-I'm...!" You try to fight it, try to not let him win, but your body aches, and you need this release so badly.
"You'll have to do better than that, my little pet." He snarls and thrusts in harder and deeper a few times just to break you down further.
"I'm..." Your mouth can barely whisper it out, and your eyes flutter, so tired and wanting to shut. "I'm yours..."
John grins and his hand snakes between your legs, finding your clit and stroking everywhere but it.
"That's it. Tell me what you are to me." He commands, teasing your clit. You feel shivers run along your body and you twitch, trying to move so his fingers will brush over your clit properly.
"I'm, I'm..." Your mind is blank, mouth moving and saying whatever it can form. "I'm your little whore..."
He flicks his fingers over your clit, and you jump from the attention, but moan out from how good it feels. Then you whine when he stops.
"And what else?" You hate how he teases you, and whine harder like the little brat you are when you don't get your way.
"I'm your slut..." You barely know what you're saying at this point, you know anything will come out of your mouth right now if it means you get to cum.
"Yes, good girl..." He whispers into your ear, rubbing your clit properly once more, a bit longer now, then stopping again.
"P-please!" You whimper out, your breath coming so hard and quick now as you get closer, but are denied once more.
"Keep going, tell me how beneath me you are." You feel humiliated from how easy it is now for him to take you and make you do whatever he says. You truly are but a puppet in his hands now.
"I'm your dirty little slut...your bitch..." You blink, trying to cum up with more, but every time you say one, he plays with your sweet spot, then denies you when you stop, making it so hard to think.
"Keep going."
"I'm your cumdumpster...a hole to fuck...your pretty little blood doll to drain when you get thirsty." you have no idea where all this is coming from, but you'll say anything right now as long as John keeps his cock pounding you and his hand sending waves of pleasure through your body while he pets your cunt.
"I'm a mindless little slut for your cock and I had no idea that's what I was meant for before you fucked me into submission..." You whisper out, feeling completely degraded and knowing John's working on those emotions in your mind to help make such horrible words come out of your mouth.
"That's right. And now, I'm going to claim you as mine and keep you forever until I get tired of you." Your body shudders from the thought of being so entrapped by this monster, being so completely used up and broken by such an enemy, and so easily tricked into doing so.
You feel your clit aching from the teasing touches, and your cunt is starting to get sore from how it's being used. You feel John pull you up so he can get to your neck, your back against his torso, his hard abs cool against your hot skin. He uses his hands to keep you steady, his cock still finding a way to keep you stimulated, and his hand working on your clit. He waits til you're shaking, legs ready to give out, and cunt clenching so hard and tight around his cock you think you might break. Then, just as you're spilling over the edge, those waves of sweet pleasure starting in your legs and moving out, he sinks his fangs into you once more.
Your pleasure is mixed with the pain of being bitten again, then quickly moves to heighten your cum. John's cock can handle it no more, finally, spilling his cum so deeply inside of you, throbbing and in need of making sure every last drop gets inside. You feel yourself continuing to cum, much longer than you ever could have thought possible, and darkness beginning to take you as well. You fade into an abyss filled with pleasure and nothingness, and for the first time in your life you feel bliss from being so perfectly taken.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You awake on deep burgandy sheets of silk, twisted up in your legs. You kick out, the silk slippery and expensive feeling, and your foggy mind tries to make sense of what you're seeing around you. You blink, and try to use your hands to rub your eyes and make the scene make sense. It takes a moment, but you begin to see in the dimly lit room.
It's opulent, dark red and deep browns filling your vision. It's a room that looks older, but the items inside are still so prestine despite looking Victorian or earlier. You look about the bed, it's huge, and you feel as if you're on a boat in the middle of the sea. You look up and see the bed posts extend upward, red velvet curtains adorning it and creating a little enclave.
You peek from the bed to see more of the room, body moving slowly, stiff and sore. You realize as you move, someone has dressed you in a light, white and airy, nightgown. As you look from your body back to the room, one of the doors to the room opens.
John walks in, a golden tray in his hand, covered. He says nothing, but he is extremely dominant just from how he walks up to you.
He sees you recoil from him slightly, and your blood starts to pound a bit faster now. His face is stoic and let's no emotions come through.
"Here." He says, not exactly gently.
He sets the tray on the bedside table, and waits for you to move first.
Your mind is hazy, but you remember much of what happened between the two of you. You feel more naked now than when he was fucking you relentlessly. More shy, afraid of being so normal in front of him.
He watches you, a hand gesturing to the tray slightly, waiting for you. You move slowly, not taking your eyes off of him, unsure of if this is a game or a test. You slowly grab the cold metal of the cover of the tray, and pull it off with measured movements.
You glance away from him finally, to see what he's brought you.
On the tray, a delicious looking breakfast. All of your favorite foods of this meal are present on a few different sized plates, complete with a steaming hot cup of tea. You look back up at him, and your eyes narrow for a second, wondering how he would know to make such a perfect breakfast for you.
"It was her favorite too." He says simply, the slowly, as if waiting for you to say now, sits on the bed.
The bed has more than enough room, so you sit near the edge and by the table, and he at the end of your feet. He watches what you will do next.
Despite yourself, your stomach growls from the smell of the wonderful meal, and you can't take it any longer.
You begin to eat, slowly, and to your surprise once more, it tastes as amazing as it looks. You didn't know a vampire could cook so well, but you're not questioning it now.
John watches you with curiosity, and soon you get so into your meal, you forget that you should be afraid of the man at the end of the bed. You pause halfway through, your stomach getting fuller faster than you would have thought. You softly move, positioning yourself so you can look directly at John and drink your tea.
This time, you wait for him to make the first move.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions..." He finally says, and you look at him, not giving anything away either.
The truth was, somehow, you had less questions than you thought. You know what's happened, and you feel less like two entities in one body every passing second. In fact, now you feel as if you've moved into a singular being, and with Helen's knowledge of John lingering in the back of your mind, you know how he will treat you here.
"Or maybe not..." He says with a smirk, clearly reading your mind so easily.
"I still think you're in there, the real John." You take a sip of tea, and you know the hope has not been taken from you entirely.
"Oh really?" John says with a smirk, clearly intrigued. "After what I've done to you, you still think there could be good inside of me?"
You laugh, and John looks genuinely taken back, for only an instant.
"Oh yes," you are now the one smirking. "Just because you're a good fuck, doesn't mean you can't be a good man either."
Your voice is a tad cocky, coyly acting as if the events of him taking you that night were actually your idea. And for a moment, you think that maybe it was...
"I'm hardly a man, you know that, slayer." He says and this time he laughs.
"And I'm hardly a slayer, anymore." You raise your eyebrows and take another sip of the spiced and sweet tea.
John nods, saying nothing, obviously thinking over what you've said. You wonder if you truly could stump the feared John Wick with such ease.
John stands, and walks to the second door in the room. He opens it, and from your view on the bed, you get a peek into a bright white and gold accented bathroom, much larger than any you've seen before.
"The bathrooms here, if you need it." John walks back over to you, leaving the bathroom door open.
He gathers the tray, but leaves you with your tea.
"If you need me, call out. I will hear you."
And with that, he walks out the door he came in, and you hear the particular sound of a lock being engaged. You think on what he said, the implication being not only will he hear you if you call for him, but hear anything else as well. You understand that despite the more kind aspect of feeding you today, and giving you such a gilded cage to stay in, you are still his prisoner.
You decide to get out of bed, your long nightgown flowing with your movements, and your bare feet pad across dark wooden floors. You look into the bathroom closer now, and see all the grandeur of it. The room is large, with a huge marbled bathtub in one corner, big enough to fit 5 or more with comfortably. The side closest to the door holds a sink and counter, behind them a long and tall mirror that makes the room seem even bigger. Across from the sink is a vanity area.
You walk over and inspect it, seeing it is complete with any make up item you may want, of course namebrand only. You spy a few perfumes as well on a tiny golden tray, and you test them. You surely will not like all of the scents, but to your surprise, it's the each smells you'd love to wear most. He really has thought much of this out.
You decide to undress, and as you do, you see your body in the mirror. Bruises on your knees and arms are deep purple, your ass still spotting some red marks and violet as well. Your muscles are sore as you take the dress off and all it combined reminds you of what happened before you came here.
You aren't really sure how to feel about it. You know, if you detailed what happened to any of your friends, or god forbid Constantine, they would immediately think the worst has happened. But somehow, despite the social pressure to deny how much you liked it, you know that when you walked into that forest, in search of John Wick, it was a possibility that he would fuck you so savagely. And the deeper part of you had hoped for it to happen. You look away from the remnants of his touch on your body, and move towards the bathtub.
You sit on the edge while the tub fills with steamy water, looking at the stained glass windows across from the tub. Moonlight pours through them, leaving a red stain across the room from the depictions of roses and such within the glass.
You finally are able to sink deeply into the tub, and you're able to float on your back in there, simply letting your mind and body rest in the heat of the water that envelopes you.
You wonder what happens now.
You've set out to heal your soul bond to Helen, which you've done. But now, a different bond tugs on your heartstrings.
You know that the reason you've come here, given yourself up to John, is because he is connected to you in ways you can't begin to untangle. Not now, after you've chosen to go down this path.
You can tell he wants to use you, in whatever evil way he desires, but you wonder if it could be called 'being used' when the pit in your stomach yearns so deeply for it.
You know you were raised to be a slayer. That it runs in your blood to kill monsters, like John especially. But you never really felt like that was meant for you. You were never as good at it as Constantine. You always lacked something and never even progressed past killing low level monsters. How were you supposed to ever be a great slayer when the odds were so stacked against you?
You sigh, the steam rising from the tub and the mirrors of the bathroom fogging over. You sit up, and reach for expensive looking soaps and haircare on the side of the tub, and begin to gently wash up.
The act of taking care of yourself in such a way soothes you, and you love the scents that have been chosen for you. In a weird way, this is much more calming than any of your years as a slayer. You wonder what else is in store for you, if there's something that will make you regret this so greatly, but apart of you is ready to face anything if you can see the one your heart hungers for on the other side.
You wonder if this is how hedonists feel. Giving into lust, yearning, want, and letting yourself have whatever it is that your body desires, uncaring for if that choice is bad for you.
You wash your body in thought, and as you do, you begin thinking of John's cock again. Maybe that was all it took. Being held down and fucked like an animal, and now you feel so empty without him inside of you. That's what he said right? That you would be a slave to his cock?
You let your hands wander your body in the bath, and you softly touch yourself. Small moans escape your mouth as you keep going, echoing in the large bathroom. You think of John fucking you again, and soon enough you're body is hot with desire. And by the sounds of footsteps entering the bathroom, yours isn't the only one.
You don't need to stop, or move, to know who it is. With your connection strengthening, you know John has stepped into the room. You were hoping what when he said he could hear anything, he would hear you in here touching yourself.
You've become such a naughty girl since you let go.
John approaches the tub, and right now, your back is to him. You have no idea if he came in this way, or quickly undressed, but soon enough, he is entering the warm water with you. He swims carefully behind you, and his hands, still cold, softly caress your back.
You shiver and turn to him, seeing him now, fully naked and immersed in the water as you are.
"Couldn't even finish your bath?" He teases you, voice so soft.
"Mhm..." You simply respond, and now that you're both so exposed to each other, you come in closer.
"You're so easily tamed. Don't you feel like such a whore for giving into me like that?" He chides and smirks, and all you can do is laugh.
If only he knew that you do feel like a whore, but it's not because of how badly you crave his cock. It's something you're slowly starting to choose, and each time you give into such a desire, the more freedom you really feel.
You reach for him, and feel his chest, slowly warming in the hot water. You let your hands run down it, and to your surprise, John let's you do as you please. He watches you with intrigue, and you remember how many more years of experience he has over you. You wonder if there's anything you could do to surprise him.
"You already have." He says, reading your mind once again.
"It's not fair you have access to all of my thoughts, and I have none of yours." You pout, and keep letting your hands explore his body more, slowly.
"You need but ask, Сладкая..." He speaks something in his foreign tongue and through your connection you don't have to ask to know it's for endearment.
"Why do you think you can't be saved?" You ask, and are worried to look into John's eyes.
A long moment passes, and finally you do. John looks down at you from where he's relaxed against the side of the bath, and seems to be thinking.
"I don't think someone who's killed as much as I have, taken as many lives as I do, has much to be saved left." He says this, and you can tell it's sincere.
You nod, listening, and you don't know what to say. It's true. You know after Helen died, he became the assassin he is, killing vampires, humans, and other supernaturals alike. In a way, you think, he's more of a slayer than you are.
"You're probably right." He laughs, and you blush as you realize once more he's overheard.
"If you don't like doing it, you could quit being an assassin." You say softly, running a hand upward and letting it play with the ends of his hair, still not wet from the tub yet.
"It's the only think I could do. After I lost you the first time, I couldn't do anything to make myself feel. Killing changed that." You're surprised he's confiding in you so.
"It won't change much, telling you how I feel. Knowing my feelings doesn't absolve me from the wickedness in my heart." He says, looking deep into your eyes, his now a red so dark you can scarcely tell it's true color.
"I will want you again. And I will take you however and how much I like." He says this extremely plainly, as if there's no other way. "I will not kill you, but you are mine now."
He looks at you for response, and you show him nothing.
"Do you really think a man who will use you for your body and blood, who cannot give you anything in return from a heart so shrivelled as mine is, is the correct choice?" You sense how much he believes this to be true.
You place a hand over where his heart should be. You feel only the faintest and dullest of beats.
"Perhaps, with enough of my blood beating in there, you will feel the love I still have for you, after all these years of waiting." When you speak like this, you know it's more of Helen coming out of you, but you can see from how you use such words, John's eyes seem to soften ever so slightly.
"That is a kind thing to wish for..." He takes your hand in his, and pulls you to him. He kisses your hand, and you let it open like a flower for him.
He kisses your palm, still wet from the bath, and he kisses further, reaching your beating wrist. His eyes flash up to you, the red brightening as his hunger shows.
"You let such a monster as me have free reign over you?" He whispers into your wrist, breath tickling you there. "Oh what a silly little slayer you are..."
"I'm not sure if I was ever cut out to be a slayer..." You can't believe you're saying it out loud, but it's true. You always felt you had to be, that it was what was destined for you, but it never fulfilled you the way it did others.
"Ah, so you've come to use me for your rebellious phase then...?" He jokes and laughs into your wrist before gently nipping at it with his teeth.
"You could say that..." You joke back, but in reality, your breath is caught as you imagine his fangs sinking into you there.
Your thighs squish together in the water as you try to hide your want to feel the pleasure that those teeth bring.
"Don't think I forgot what brought me in here..." John teases you, and you bite your lip as you try not to whine for him. The temptation grows.
"I know how badly you must want me to drink of you again..." John swallows, obviously hungry himself. "But I cannot, you haven't fully recovered from last time."
You can't help it, the whine escapes your lips as he says this and then licks against your pulse, pulling you into his lap as he does so.
"Would an evil vampire care so much for letting me recover?" You whisper out, confronting him despite yourself.
"One that wants to use every last drop of their blood doll does..." He chuckles and let's his teeth run up your arm, until he finds your neck, moving wet hair out of the way.
He kisses there, at that perfect spot on your neck until your moans are filling the room. He let's his hands steady you, and take your body in, exploring every curve, your waist, your back, your breasts.
Oh, how you wish he would touch between your thighs, though...
He smirks and looks you in the eyes.
"Should I be nice for once and let you have what you want?" You don't know if he's serious or not, but from the flash in his eyes you suspect something devious.
He turns, lifting you up and setting you onto the edge of the bathtub with ease. There's more than enough room for you to sit, and John looks up hungrily from between your legs.
He takes in the sight of your body and grins.
"Tonight, I shall taste of you in a different manner..."
He pulls you to the edge and opens your legs without asking, you cry out from how aggressive he is. You can see that primal look in his eyes once again, and you know there's no stopping him now. You also know, you wouldn't allow him to stop anyways. Your breath catches as his head dips between your legs, breath on your most sensitive area already, and before he can ease you into it, he's lapping at your wet cunt.
You squirm and his hands dig into your thighs, pulling you in and capturing you there. You feel caught in the wolf's mouth, not daring to move lest he bite down too hard.
You feel your pleasure ramping up as his tongue continues to tease you, alternating between too much stimulation then not enough, John waiting for you to whine before he gives you more.
Your hands move to tangle in his hair and he grabs them, moving them back. He's not letting you have even an ounce of power right now.
You begin moaning more and more as he focuses his mouth directly on your clit, sucking until you think you'll go mad.
"Say my name." He commands, and you try to think straight as he goes back to licking.
"J-john..." You whisper out, and he grabs your thighs harder, growling.
"Louder."
You bite back giving him what he wants and instead hold your breath as you try to edge yourself closer to the edge.
"Not until I hear you scream my name." John looks up at you with those red eyes, no longer stimulating you, waiting.
Fuck. He's got you right where he wants you, once again.
He laps slowly, teasing his tongue through your folds but not giving enough for you to finish, just enough to prolong your need.
"Fuck..." You whisper out, trying to buck your hips into his mouth, but he holds you down with his steel grip.
You can't take it anymore, your breathing is ragged and sharp, and your body needs release.
"John..." You whisper once more, looking down and seeing that same glare as before, knowing you aren't nearly loud enough.
"God, John!" You moan out again this time getting louder, and every time after building.
He lets you scream his name until he's satisfied, finally flicking his tongue perfectly, sucking and licking just right until you're shaking. He let's you twitch into him, your need to grind against his face given freely as long as you keep his name perched on your lips.
You finish, and he slows down his tongue in time with your breath, easing you down from your high.
He smirks at you once more from between your thighs and pulls you back down into the steamy water.
He says nothing, but slowly runs his hands on your silky, slick body. You feel content in his soft touches, and for a moment you think you might even fall asleep as he does so. He leans you back into the water, wetting your hair then applying shampoo, the smell sweet and lovely. He washes your hair with precise fingers, the feeling on your scalp sending tingles down your back. You look up to keep soap from getting in your eyes, and glance at him. He seems as relaxed as you right now.
"Why are you being so kind to me now?" You shouldn't ruin the moment by asking, but you have to.
"Just because I am capable of good doesn't mean that I am good." He whispers back. "Besides, I like to take care of my things..."
You let him finish washing you, then he helps you from the steamy bathwater, offer a hand as you step out. He hands you a fluffy white bath towel, and a smaller one for your hair. You've never felt so cared for, even though the man doing so is supposed to be such a monster. You know he's wrong. He can't hide how much he cares for you for long.
He gets you a new nightgown and helps you back to bed, your body still overly tired and weak. Another set of tea is already out and prepared, you wonder by whom, but you don't care.
You drink the liquids left out for you with fervor, your body thirsty after sweating in the steam of the bath. John walks over to a fireplace in the room, and begins to light it, toying with the flaming wood until its to his liking.
"You don't have to worry here, you know..." He says softly, still looking at the fire.
"No?" You reply.
"No...I will have your every need taken care of, but I have conditions."
"Which are?" You look at his back, his eyes still glued to the flame.
"You may not leave here. I will not allow you to see your friends. And your body is for me to consume as much or as little as I like." He says the conditions so plainly, and you wonder if you'll be able to adhere.
You say nothing and he stands, turning to leave not looking at you.
He pauses at the door, only half moving his head in your direction.
"Goodnight." He whispers, then closes the door and locks it once more.
You crawl under the covers, and the warmth from the fire keeps the cold at bay. You wonder where your life with John will lead.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You lay there, head full of dreams that whisk away reality, softly breathing. The balcony doors to the room shutter against the cold of the wind. November is near now, and the weather has started to dip into a frosty tendency. You are grateful for the warmth of the room as the wind continues its wickedness outside. You sleep somewhat peacefully despite your situation.
That is, until the knocks came.
You thought perhaps a branch or some other bit of nature had summoned itself against the glass, but the intensity of the knocking grew louder. Your eyelids flutter open and you blink away sleep, trying to see what it is that has disturbed you.
A shadow cast across the room, a long, dark shadow that is human in form. You feel fear slide down your spine as you quickly look at the window to see the source, and your heart sinks.
It's him.
Constantine.
You fling yourself from the bed at once, feet slapping against the cold wooden floor. When you come to the glass doors of the balcony, you pause, wondering if you should really open it. You glance up at Constantine's face, and the love you once held for him is still a dull ache in your heart.
You open the doors.
He immediately embraces you, his warmth shining through despite the cold.
"You have no idea how long I've been looking for you..." He whispers into your hair.
You've never seen him so tender.
Your absence must have been harder on him than you thought it would be. You had only known him barely a year before you met John, but there was an undeniable bond between you two. There still is.
You pull yourself away from him.
"What are you doing here?" Is all you can say, and Constantine's face drops.
"I'm here to rescue you? What the fuck do you think I'm here for?" The gruffness and mean tone of voice you're used to is back.
"I never said I needed to be rescued." You fold your arms across your chest, stopping some of the billowing of your nightgown in the wind that blows in from the open doors.
"Why else would you be here with a vampire? I don't believe that you have come here on your own accord, you're a slayer, we don't do that..." He says this slowly, watching your reaction, looking at you as if you were a foreign object he must inspect.
"I..." You begin to speak, then close your mouth, unsure of what to say.
"Don't tell me you actually decided to come here on your own..." Something inside his words, beyond the cruel exterior, was almost pleading you to say no.
You say nothing.
Before Constantine can open his mouth to speak once more, the doors to your bedchamber open with sleek vigor.
John stands there, staring Constantine down.
Before you can stop them, they're already at each other, Constantine going to grab a stake off of his back, and John going for his throat.
"Stop!" You call out, and you realize you cannot bear to lose either of them. Your heart beats wildly and you try to think of a way to end this.
To your surprise, Constantine is able to get John pinned, his stake aimed and John's hand holding his arm to stop him from drilling it into his heart.
"Please! Don't!" You scream out, and Constantine looks at you.
"Tell me you want me to go and I will." He says, grunting with effort to keep the upper hand while distracted.
"Tell me you choose him and I will never bother you again." His voice caught, rough and pleading with you.
You have no idea how you're supposed to choose so suddenly. You open your mouth but cannot muster words to come out.
"Fine." Constantine says and soon allows John to break free from him.
As John goes in for the kill, Constantine jumps from the balcony, giving you one final look, that you know means you won't see the last of him.
You rush to the edge of the balcony, to see where he's gone.
When you check the ground, so far down you don't think you could ever make such a jump, he's already gone. The only evidence being boot prints in the wet grass and the anger on John's face.
"John...I--" before you can speak grabs you and flings you into the bedroom.
He shuts and now locks the balcony door, your one salvation to the outside world these past few weeks.
He glares at you, his red eyes full of emotions you don't think you could ever feel so intensely. His eyes lock with yours, and you can see the pain there hidden behind a sardonic grin.
"Seems you're still tethered to the past, my dear. I think it's time you make a choice."
With that, he leaves you there, tears welling up in your eyes as your heart hurts from both of them.
The door to your bedchamber clicks and you're all alone once more...
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Taglist: @emacarrigton @sunnythebunny7 @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3 @generalkenobee
Be added to future updates here!l
Ask to be taken off of this tag list at anytime via message!
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threwedaway · 2 months
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TW: SA, ABUSE
Someone said some victim blamer shit in my reblogs and that's an automatic no, but I needed to share... Because what the hell, man?
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I got this reblog and I'm trying to keep my composure. This is probably going to be a rambling mess. I was just trying to make a fun little post about HuskerDust, but here we go!
I crossed out the name, because I don't know how old this person is and I don't know what their experiences are.
This will kind of go back and forth between Angel's situation and general information/experience. I think from what I've seen it won't resonate with everyone, but it is definitely within the realm of possibility and makes sense given his circumstances.
I also use the terms victim and survivor interchangeably as a fair warning.
I know there's been a lot of talk around victim blaming and this is blatant.
I'm aware this is a fictional character. I have, however, worked at multiple non-profits that focus on helping survivors of abuse and SA as well as being a victim myself. So, I am pissed beyond belief.
No one lets themselves be abused. Even in situations where someone resigns themselves to abuse, it is for their survival and safety. It is under duress and it is not someone letting themselves be abused. This person says Angel is doing an awful job saving himself, but in all reality he is attempting to keep himself as safe as he can in the environment he's in.
Husk isn't doing everything right and a relationship with the foundation of it being we both suck and we're both stuck in shitty situations isn't going to be stable, but as I said in my original post, he's telling Angel he's not alone. He's not doing that perfectly, but he's saying even if we can't fix everything I'll be here. He says we're in this together, respects that Angel doesn't want to be saved, and he takes the pressure off. He makes himself a safe place for Angel to vent and makes it clear that he enjoys being around him no matter what.
Trying to force someone can push them towards their abuser and isolate them further or put you and the victim in a lot of danger if you're untrained. Which is what happens in the episode when Charlie comes to the studio. Someone tried to help when he didn't ask for it and it ended badly, which just reaffirms that he cannot accept or ask for help without repercussion.
If you have someone close to you who is in an abusive situation and they don't want to leave for whatever reason, applying too much pressure can be counterproductive. If it is safe to do so (mentally and physically), be there for them. Try and keep the line of communication open so they have a life line if or when they're ready.
Angel is under contract, there has been a pattern of abuse for at least a decade, his self worth is extremely low, there are threats of violence against him and people he cares about and Valentino seemingly provided everything before Charlie and is still providing for his drug habits. That's not even getting into the intricacies of the fact he was trafficked, which makes things more complicated.
Aside from the magic piece of paper, these are real reasons people stay in abusive relationships.
My point is, this is uninformed and victim blaming. The amount of times I've heard from survivors all the reasons they didn't ask for help even though it was awful is too many to count. So many people come out of these situations after years and years and blame themselves for not getting help. It is never the fault of the person being hurt, it is always the fault of the person hurting them.
Angel is trying to save himself and is making steps forward. He's going to the hotel, distancing himself from Valentino and he's also trying to 'break himself' or make himself less appealing to his abuser. While that last one isn't good, he's not doing nothing. He is trying to use the resources he knows to stop the abuse.
Autonomy is very important in situations like this. Of course someone in this situation should ask for help, but if someone isn't ready it's not our place to decide that for them.
This struck a nerve obviously!
No one is a bad victim. We do not judge victims choices to ask for help or not ask for help. We do not imply any survivor of abuse lets it happen somehow.
Keep anything close to victim blaming off my blog. All and all, don't put these words in that order! Ever!
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Helping Hand 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You're permitted to leave the dungeon of your policy review for your designated half-hour break. You go to the lunch room and sit down with your meagre tray of crackers and cheese. You pick away at it, your appetite spoiled by the rotten start to your day and the pain tearing at your muscles. You really just want to go home but you know you can't. You need the money.
Your phone shakes on the table, a loud rattle that makes you flinch. You sigh and grab it, standing up to take the call. The longer you avoid Andy, the worse it's going to get. You leave your food on the table and jar your shoulder as you pull open the door. You put the phone to your ear as you storm onto the sales floor.
"Andy, I'm at work."
"Tough shit. How hard is it for you to give me an answer? It's as simple as a text--"
"You ever think I don't want to see your mother or you? Andy," you huff and hold your breath, lowering your voice as you hurry past customers. You get outside just as you're about to burst, "you left me. You served me papers. Why are you still bugging me?"
"I asked you for a goddamn favour. And just like usual, you can't do a simple task--"
"Andy--"
"Listen to me," he hollers over you, "she's sick. Okay? She's sick and she wants to see you."
You stop on the curb, teetering on the edge. You push your neck back and groan. God, you're shoulder hurts.
"How sick?" You ask.
"Sick," he answers somberly, "please, it's one afternoon."
You exhale, "what about... her?"
Another silence as he sniffs, "that's over."
You want to scoff. You want to scream in his ear. All that for a fling that didn't even last a whole year. You hold back your venom, it doesn't change anything. You're still divorced and you still hate him.
"Too bad," you mutter, "fine, I'll come."
"Thanks," he says, "for what it's worth."
"For her, not you," you growl.
"I can drive you--"
"No, I'll figure that out myself," you turn back to the storefront, "the less time we need to be together, the better."
He clucks, "I wasn't that bad."
"Apparently I was," you shrug and let out a pathetic yipe, "god fuck!" You pull the phone away from your ear as you try to stifle your exclamation. You put it back to your cheek and cross the pavement to the door, "gotta go. Bye."
"Sunday--"
"Got it."
You hang up and shove your phone in your pocket. You whine and clutch your shoulder. Your eyes blur with tears. So much for a relaxing lunch.
You reenter the store, head down as you ignore the customers trying to get your attention. You punch the keycode into the lunchroom door and grab your uneaten snack, packing it away before returning to the backroom. As you enter, you find the office occupied.
"Ah, there you are," Jonathan greets as he turns to you, "how was your break?"
"Short," you answer and go around to sit in the chair, cradling your elbow to keep pressure off the joint of your shoulder, "thanks."
"I saw you rush out. Everything okay?"
"Yep," you roll forward and flip a page, "everything is roses."
"And how is your shoulder?" He asks.
"Good," you lie.
He stares at you. A deadlock between you. You bow your head and resume your mindless browsing of redundant rules. He comes close to the other side of the desk and rests his fingertips on the top.
"I am worried, I am not treating you maliciously," he says evenly.
"I know. I told you not to worry."
"Someone should be cautious if you won't," he insists, "I am not like that man I fended off last night–"
"He's not your problem to worry about."
"Yet, I do," he intones, "you shouldn’t let him shade your impression of the world. He is one person–"
"I don't want to talk about my ex-husband," your voice scrapes with frustration, "please," you lift your head, "I'm just trying to get through the day."
He considers you, dragging his hand away from the desk to cross his arms. His forehead ripples and his cheek twitches. He takes a breath and his chest rises and falls.
"Very well, let's keep this professional. Go home."
"What?" You sputter.
"Yes, you've had time to review the policy. Should an employee have issues performing their duties, and/or pose a risk to themselves or others, they may be dismissed," he declares, "I believe if you sit here any longer and stress your injury, you will cause irreparable damage."
"It's fine–"
"I am your boss and I am telling you to leave the premises."
You lean back, chewing on a yelp. You blink as you glare at him. You can't believe he is doing this.
"Now, since you are officially relieved of your duties, as your friend, I insist you see a doctor–"
"You can't do this–"
"I am," he shrugs nonchalantly. "Of course, you may choose to catch the bus and see how you fare with a night of discomfort and no relief or you will accept my offer and seek help. I had my physician pencil you in for an hour from now–"
"Why would you do that?" You sneer.
"Because, you are stubborn–"
"I am not your responsibility."
"Perhaps not in your mind," he smirks, "so, shall I retrieve your things from your locker or would you prefer me wait for you here?"
"I'm not going with you," you stand and close the binder, slamming your hand on the cover.
"Very well, until you seek proper care, you will not be permitted to return to work. I cannot risk the liability–"
"You are…" you begin, breathless with exasperation, "why are you doing this?"
"Doing what? Looking after you?"
"Yes," you murmur, "why would you bother?"
"Someone must," he drops his arms, "please, be mad at me all you like, it is better than hurting yourself."
You shake your head and huff, avoiding him as you round the desk, "I'll get my bag."
"I'll be here, darling," he hums smugly, "patiently."
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lexxiisstuff · 2 years
Text
𝑰𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆
In which they don't stop until you're pushed too far. (Angst)
Part 2
**************
Haitani Ran
"You never listen to me, Ran!" You slammed your hands against the kitchen table "It's like you don't even care anymore!"
"I would care if you ever actually said something worth caring about. I swear sometimes I feel like you just like to hear the sound of your own voice" You took a step back, hurt. Haitani sat on the couch his legs on the coffee table and his earphones in. He'd forgotten to come pick you up from work and you were forced to take a bus half way and walk the other half since your office building was almost halfway across town.
"I like listening to myself talk? You're kidding right? Do you think I like arguing with you Haitani! Do you think I constantly want to be disappointed with you? Do you think I like feeling more like a stranger than your girlfriend?" Your hands fisted in your hair and you glanced up. It's been months since you and your boyfriend had even had a civil conversation and you felt like a nuisance in your own home .
"I wish you would just fuck off" He said it under his breath and you knew you weren't supposed to hear it but you did, and you felt your heart drop to the soles of your feet. You sighed in defeat and turned around towards the bedroom. Grabbing your suitcase you shoved in whatever could fit. You would not cry. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he broke you. But God.... he really broke you.
You didn't pack in any of the old hoodies he gave you, you didn't pack in the stuffed teddy bear he bought you on your first date and you slipped off the stupid ring that matched the one that dangles on the chain around his neck. This was you finally letting go. You couldn't do it anymore. You didn't want to do it anymore. You zipped the suitcase and turned startling to see Ran leaning against the doorframe. His gaze flicked from you to the suitcase.
"Where are you going?" He muttered softly his gaze remaining on you. Unbothered. Uncaring. Cold.
"I'm tired, Haitani" You lifted your bag "I don't want to be with you anymore. Consider this me granting your wish"
You walked to the living room until you hand lingered on the door.
"Y/n wait." You turned around to look at him "You forgot your phone" God could you be so pathetic.
You scoffed, grabbing it from his hand. Somehow you wished he would have stopped you. Selfishly you wanted to hurt him, to know he cared even if it was a little. But he didn't stop you, didn't ask for another chance. He watched you walk away and once you were gone turned the TV back on so he could play his game.
You didn't come back like Ran thought you would. He thought you both needed space, that's why when you left he was sure you'd come home soon enough. But you didn't come home. You never called. And your absence curled around him like a blanket. He was too proud to admit how much he missed you. God, he missed you.
The little traces of you in the apartment were slowly driving him crazy. Your shampoo in the bathroom, those chocolate covered oreos in the cabinet he loathed, your scent on the sheets. He wanted you to come home so he could apologize. So he could take back every stupid word, every cold shoulder, everything that had made you want to leave. He wanted you to come back so he could give you everything he didn't give you before.
"Hello" Ran froze at the sound of your voice on the other end of the line . This was the first time you answered his call in weeks. He had called expecting your voice mail.
"Y/n" He cleared his voice "Where are you?"
"Around. What do you want Haitani?"
"Could you.. Could you come home please? I know I fucked up but I'll make it up you. I'll work on it. On us. Just come to the apartment. Please" He heard your soft breath and he closed his eyes.
"No" You said the word quietly "I know you can be better, Ran. I know you're a good person but mentally I can't be the person you tarnish while you're trying to learn to be in a relationship. It's too exhausting and it's not good for me anymore"
"Y/n." But he never finished his sentence. He didn't know what to say. How to make you stay. And so you hung up on Ran Haitani for the last time. And he listened to the other half of him dissappear. "I'm sorry"
Keisuke Baji
"Come here baby" He pulled you by your waist so you were snuggled firmly against his back "I'm sorry" He kissed your shoulder softly "I'm sorry. It won't happen again"
You sagged against him tired. "You know it hurts me everytime you compare me to her, but you meeting up with her tonight and not telling me?"
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. She doesn't mean anything to me, y/n. I promise sweetheart" He kissed you again whispering small nothings in your ear until you fell asleep reassured that you were the only girl your boyfriend had eyes for.
That is until you caught him the next day sitting across from her in a cafe. Their heads together as they laughed, smiled and shared a pastry. He hadn't told you. Again.
"Don't touch me!" You shoved Baji off you as you tried to fit the rest of your clothes in your suitcase. He'd come home to find you angry and sad and somehow he already knew why.
"Babe-"
"Don't fucking babe me Baji. How long were you gonna keep this from me? Coming home and feeding me empty promises while going to meet your ex immediately after. Do you know how humiliating this is for me!" You didn't cry merely trembled with both anger and frustration.
"If I'm honest y/n you're just as too blame. If you weren't so insecure I would have told you about meeting her. I knew you'd react like this!"
You recoiled. Shocked and hurt you merely shut your suitcase and dragged it towards your car. You shot him a scathing look over your shoulder.
"What? You aren't even going to deny it" He scoffed
"I'm not Baji. I'm not going to deny that I'm insecure. You made me feel insecure. All the times you told me I wasn't as smart as her, as pretty as her, as talented" You took a breath "I knew you weren't completely over her when we started dating. I thought things would change Keisuke. You can go back to her now. Don't let me stop you"
"God you're so pathetic. Maybe I will go back to her . At least she wasn't a nag" You shoved your car door open and Baji watched you race down the driveway his words not registering until after you left. "Fuck"
"Baji you seem distracted" Nara ran a hand down his arm distractedly while they walked through the park. He merely shrugged. He didn't want to be out here in the firts place. He wanted to be at home, in bed, loathing himself but Nara had asked him out and he was in desperate need of a distraction. Your words flowing through his head never ended.
"Baji isn't that y/n" His head shot up and he watched you race across the park a younger version of you chasing after. He knew it was your little sister You were glowing. You seemed boundless, free, enchanting and he realized exactly why he fell in love with you. He had always been in awe of your aura and yet when he was responsible for months of unhappiness.
He watched as you tumbled onto the grass rolling playfully and giggling like a loon that he couldn't help the small smile that twitched at his lips. Maybe he should let you go because he'd never seen you this happy with him. He just wished he had.
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missvelvetsstuff · 21 days
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Just A Number
Bucky Barnes x Older Reader
Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.
Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.
I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+
Last chapter.......
Y/N looked at him with lust darkened eyes "Shut up and carry me to my room, Sarge."
Buckys breath caught "Anything you want doll, is yours."
Chapter 12
Warnings: swearing, tiny angst, fluff, dirty talk
***SMUT*** 18+ ONLY
Bucky grabbed the back of her thighs and whispered in her ear "Jump"
She almost asked how high but simply smiled and complied, wrapping her legs around his waist, robe falling behind her and night shirt pushed up to her waist, until he could feel her heat leaking through her panties.
"Jamie, please..." She moaned as he stopped to hold her up against a wall and kissed down her neck to the swell of her breasts.
He mumbled into her skin "Where is your fucking room? I need to be inside you sweetheart."
Y/N pulled one of her hands out of his hair and pointed to the stairs "Stairs, right, purple door." Then returned her hand to the back of his head and pulled him up to kiss her again.
They were halfway up the stairs when she bit his bottom lip and he almost stumbled "Careful honey, don't wanna distract me and fall down the stairs."
In a breathy voice she replied "I trust you to keep me safe, Sarge."
Bucky groaned "Do you even know what you do to me doll? So perfect." *kiss* "Smart" *kiss* "and beautiful" kiss*nibble*groan "and funny" *kiss*grunt "and so goddamn sexy I've been losing my mind." *panting*
"I don't think I had so many wet dreams even when I was a teenager. I couldn't share a room with Sam for fear he would hear me. Waking up most mornings with the whisper of your touch and sticky sheets."
Y/N giggled breathily in his ear "I missed you too, Sarge."
Bucky groaned.
He finally found her door and dropped her on the bed before closing and locking it. He looked around her room as he unbuttoned his shirt "So how's the sound carry around here? I suppose sound proof rooms would be too much to ask."
She giggled and he felt his cock throb before she answered "It's not completely soundproof but we bought this when I turned 21 and the trust fund from my biological parents came to me. Michael was still a toddler.
Dawn moved into the apartment upstairs when she turned 21, so with everything we made sure it's all very well insulated. She won't hear much and if we're too much she has fancy headphones."
She smirked at him "I hope you're not too shy because you're going to hear about it in the morning, whether she can hear us or not."
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll just have to make this night worth whatever she can come up with." Bucky kissed her hard before ripping off what little clothing she had and then stripping the rest of his clothes off.
When he was done he stood back to look at her, laid out on her bed like the most decadent dessert he had ever seen, and blushed at how she was checking him out right back.
After a moment she started feeling self conscious and moved to cover her body's evidence of child bearing.
Bucky growled "Don't do that doll, I want to see you."
She shivered as she looked down "You don't need to see my c section scar and stretch marks."
He shook his head "I want all of you, even the scars and imperfections. Don't hide from me. I have some nasty scars myself, you know."
"Yeah but yours are from combat, not taking a stubborn baby out or your skin stretching over the fat from two pregnancies that never quite goes away.
Fighting scars are sexy, definitely not the same."
"Let me show you baby."
He crawled up the bed, stopping to kiss and caress on his way up. He took a quick taste of her dripping heat and groaned at her sweetness. Before she could get too into it he moved up to kiss and nibble at her c section scar. He kissed and traced every one of the stretch marks on her hips, stomach and breasts.
"So beautiful" he whispered in awe of her beauty and willingness to share it with him. Thankful that Sharon hadn't ruined the best thing he ever had.
When he was up to her face he kissed her hard, trying to pour all his love for her into it. The love that scared him and seemed too soon but he didn't care anymore and couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be than with her.
While they kissed he slowly slid into her drenched heat, the squelching sound just making him harder and needier.
"Goddamn doll, you feel so fucking good. So tight and dripping wet, I don't ever want to leave your sweet pussy." Bucky was rambling into her ear as he thrust into her, already gone for the feelings he had given up on controlling. The more he fucked into her the more that was chipped away at his restraint, the less he could hold back so deep into the moment and how she felt around him.
He sped up until he was slamming into her, hitting her spot every time he thrust into her, encouraged by her moans and whines, trying to become part of her, until he felt his orgasm creeping up and slowed back down. He reached down to rub her clit and groaned when he felt her tighten around him.
"Fuck, Y/N, I can feel you're getting close. I need you to cum for me sweetheart." He grunted, trying to hold his finish back until she came but it was getting to be impossible "Oh god honey, I can't hold back. C'mon baby, give it to me." He sped up "Yesyes, shitshit s'good baby."
Y/N was lost in the moment, in him and the feelings he brought, physical and emotional. She felt her orgasm rushing up on her and was too overwhelmed to do anything but shudder and groan and whine, "Jamie, please".
She felt him swelling inside her, becoming impossibly harder, before he painted her walls with his cum.
As he panted in her ear she couldn't stop the sob from escaping her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She tried to speak but couldn't. She clawed at his back, needing him closer.
Bucky pulled back to look at her but she turned her head in an attempt to hide the tears from him.
"Y/N? Are you ok? Did I hurt you? Talk to me honey, please." He looked at her anxiously, afraid he had done something wrong.
After a few minutes she was able to stop the crying and looked at him embarrassed "I'm sorry, tonight has been very intense and I get emotional because, hormones." She smiled softly at him "You didn't do anything wrong, you were perfect and I'm....." She mumbled the rest so he didn't understand.
He wiped the tears off of her face, hoping she wouldn't notice his eyes were watery as well.
"You're what doll? You can tell me anything."
She shook her head "No, I don't want to scare you off. It's too soon."
"Too soon for what? I don't think there's anything you could do to scare me off. Just tell me." He coaxed.
Her face heated up and she was grateful for the darkness "I'm falling in love with you." She whispered so softly he almost couldn't hear. Almost.
Bucky smiled and kissed her all over her face then nuzzled in her neck before nibbling on her ear
"I'm in love with you too, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."
He got up to get a wet towel and clean them both up before he kissed her slow and deep, laying on his side and pulling her into him.
They both fell asleep quickly, sated and content.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N was disturbed by knocking on her bedroom door and grumbled "Go'way, sleepin'.
The person on the other side of the door knocked harder "It's after noon, you bum. It's Sunday, you're late for brunch and the kids are coming tonite." Dawn kept knocking.
"Fine dammit, I'm up. Go'way."
Dawn laughed "Tell your soldier you have to eat to keep your strength up or you'll be a dead lay."
Y/N grumbled and tried to wake Bucky "James." She gently rubbed his right arm "Jamie. Time to get up."
Bucky grunted, rolled to his side and pulled her closer "Mmmm, five more minutes doll."
She shook him "No Jamie. It's time for food, you heard her."
He groaned again "Three more minutes?"
She shook him harder "No Jamie, now. You don't understand, she will come in here if we aren't up soon."
"I'm not afraid of your tiny sister."
Y/N chuckled "You should be. Don't let her size fool you. Besides I smell coffee and bacon. I'm hungry, dammit!"
She tried to crawl over him but he grabbed her and pulled her close with a smirk on his face "Yeah? Me too."
She kissed him hard, licked the tip of his nose then jumped out of bed while he was distracted wiping his nose off "Later sarge, a girls gotta eat."
Bucky grinned "I'll give you something-"
Dawn knocked again "At the table in two minutes or I'm coming in there."
Y/N stuck her tongue out at him and threw on some sweats and a t-shirt. "Don't worry, we have plenty of time to fool around but I'm about to pass out from hunger."
"Fine" Bucky relented "but I'm having dessert after brunch."
As they went to get up they could hear the doorbell and the dogs barking. Y/N gave him a kiss before they headed for the front door to see who was there.
@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick
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13as07 · 26 days
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Patience #3.5
(Jiraiya Smut)
[Art work is not mine! Credit to Ibuo]
Requested by: Myself
Word Count: 6,231
Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
Part 3 from Jiraiya's POV
Sorry it’s so long but not really cause I love writing his prospective
Nicknames/Name Calling: Little One, Sensei, Sweet Girl, Princess, Sweetheart, Obedient Girl, Sir, Sex Addict
Exhibitionism (public sex)
Age Gap/Power Indifference (teacher/student)
Creampie
Spanking
Little rougher domination
Improper use of a hairbrush (Yes, in that way. Still not sorry)
———————————————————————
The whimpers my kunoichi spills out only make the next few days seem even more looming. It's been driving me crazy, knowing I can't treat her like I have been. No random quickies everywhere all the time, no cuddling up in public or drowning her in affection. We're back home now, I have to be at least somewhat professional.
Plus, there's the small hovering doom of talking to Tsunade. I can only imagine the lecture and string of profanity she'll use once I tell her I did - and have been - sleeping with my student. Not to mention the black eye I'm sure I'll get since my old squad mate has a habit of responding with her fists before her words.
Once she does calm down, Tsunade will probably tell me I'm playing with fire, that I'm ruining my kunoichi's future, that I'm injuring my reputation, that I've managed to reach a whole new level of perverted. But it's so worth it.
     If I have to I'll give up the shinobi life, I'll retire, I'll focus on writing my books, and my kunoichi can continue living her life like the badass little ninja she is. Or we can both quit and buy a nice little cottage on the outskirts of town with a private hot spring.
My mouth clicks shut, cutting off my Princess's praises long enough to get my thoughts straight before I start them up again. That's a long-term idea. A long-term idea that has no room in our blooming relationship. I haven't even taken the girl on a proper date and I'm already planning my retirement with her. We've been doing stuff so backward it has my thoughts in knots.
"Little One?" I call, dipping my head down long enough to get the words out. I tip my head back up, taking in the sight of my student. She looks so hot, back arched with her pants around her knees as I have her pressed up against the tree. Her hands seem small under mine, another reminder of our size difference. I think my Princess is making me form a size kink.
"Sensei?" She whispers back, glancing at me for a millisecond before they're back in place. My Sweet Girl is focused on the entrance of our home village, the closeness both exciting and terrifying her. It's cute, seeing my student wrestle with herself over how wrong but good the situation feels.
I press kisses behind her ear, matching them to the thrusts I make into her pussy. Every bottom-out I do gets rewarded with a gentle kiss, pulling more pretty noises from my Sweetheart. "We..." I start, my climax coming quicker than I want it to.
I'm worn out already today, courtesy of me stopping and pushing my Sweet Girl against a tree every thirty minutes or so. I keep trying to convince myself it's to get it out of her system, but I'm pretty sure we both know it's to get it out of mine. "We can't..." I try again, stopping when my dick twitches.
My Little One bucks her hips backward, pushing me over the edge way before I'd like. I want to enjoy our last bout of freedom, I want to stay in this moment until I have her skin memories and damn it, I want to last longer than two minutes. "We can't what?" She whispers as if the trees outside the village will voice our sins.
"We can't..." I try again, shoving myself back into my pretty Sweetheart, soaking in the feeling of her wrapped around me, the feeling of her pussy leaking down my balls, the feeling of her, as I fill her cunt again today. Marking my territory in my new favorite way. "Be all over each other," I finally manage to get out, my mind a bit clearer now that I've finished.
"Why not?" My Sweetheart whimpers as I pull out of her.
My Sweet Girl looks beautiful like this. Her legs are spread wide, giving me the best possible view of her pussy. It's pinker than normal, from my overuse of it today. She's gapping, desperately clenching from the new emptiness as I spill out of her, coating her gorgeous thighs in the thick white of my cum. I swear I could spend a whole chapter explaining this view alone, maybe I will.
"It's unprofessional, Sweet Girl," I softly explain, giving into my want and bending forward to scoop myself off her skin. She looks nice coated in my semen but it looks so much better in her. "Besides, I need to talk to Tsunade about... this," I add, thrusting my fingers into her. My Sweetheart might look gorgeous gapping for me but it doesn't mean I like leaving her needy.
She whines as my fingertips toy with her, disappointment in her face. At least this time I know it's from my words and not my seeming inability to keep up with her sex drive. "You're fine, Sweet Girl," I mutter, kissing her shoulder in a failed attempt to muffle my laughter. I love the mess of whines and whimpers my student becomes when she doesn't get her way, and almost every time I can't help but laugh with joy at the sight.
The moment doesn’t last though, the weight of today setting in. God, I'm too attached, way too quickly. The thought of my Little One sleeping alone in her apartment makes my chest ache. She should be sleeping with me, in my house, in my bed. I should be able to roll over and hold her in the middle of the night like I've done for the past few weeks.
The thought is upsetting, it makes me anxious. My hands jump forward to cover her up again. I don't need someone to see my student with her pants down, literally. My attention quickly shifts to repeatedly squeezing her hips to counteract the anxiety weighing on me. My anxiety only seems to grow as I heard her towards the village entrance.
When that doesn't help my anxiety either, I change pace to feeling her skin against mine again. My hands grasp at her, my lips just as hopeless as I brush new kisses into her neck, desperate to press the feeling of her skin into my mind.
"Sensei?" She giggles, starting to silence my anxiety. "You're pretty all over me for it being 'unprofessional'."
"Hush Princess," I whisper, shifting my attention away from her. I scan the entrance, my fingertips dancing over her skin, helping more of my anxiety seep away.
I hate the thought of being away from her. What if something happens and I'm not there to help? When we're on a mission we spend twenty-four-seven together. That's not going to happen now that we're home.
My head dips down, placing another marking on her skin in our last few seconds of true alone time. I cup her pussy too, tapping my fingers against my Sweetheart before I tug away. My temporary goodbye to our very active sex life.
     I feel like a schoolboy once again. The anxious attachment young boys experience with their first girlfriends. So distressed, so upset at the thought of being apart from my Sweet Girl. Maybe some time apart won't be too bad, as long as she's safe.
     The thought of this being a healthy space makes me feel better and makes it easier to let go of my grasp on her and pull away.
     "Sensei? Are you going to ignore me again?" My student asks, distraught covering her face as I pull away. My Sweetheart doesn't like me pulling away, which is evident from her wrapping around my arm. She looks small, wrapped around me like this. She looks even smaller when she squirms from my fingertips brushing over her pussy. I'm definitely developing a size kink.
     The distraught she's feeling quickly gets replaced. My kunoichi's mischievous glint fills her eyes as a pout forms on her face, promising a bratty tantrum to follow. "What if I get needy? Then who am I supposed to do?"
     I take it back, I don't feel like a schoolboy. I feel pissed off like I'm ready to throw down with any man that dears to glance at her. It's the same anger I had at dinner with Riku, jealousy that I can’t seem to control.
     Before I can stop myself, I tug my arm away from her, jumping forward to grip her face. This is another new thing between us. Since my Princess doesn't like my hand around her throat, I've started gripping her face to keep her attention on me.
     I snap her head upward, forcing her eye contact with me as I glare down at her. "Don't you dare," I husk out, soaking in the way my Sweetheart's eyes soften. They're round and glazed over, tempting me to break my temporary hardness. "Go ahead, try your little act. See how far that gets you," I continue before dipping my head down, making sure the next sentence stays between the two of us instead of the villagers eavesdropping on the street. "See how empty everyone else makes you feel compared to your Sensei."
     My Little One's hands snack up my arm, her fingers clinging to my wrist as her breath picks up. I enjoy the view, the way she seems so eager for me as I pull away from her face. It's cute, her eyes, how easily I got her roaring again, how she tries to pull my hold off her even though she knows it is useless.
     "I'm just kidding, Sensei," she whimpers, a whine bubbling in her throat. My student flutters her eyes down, focusing on my fingers clinging to her cheeks.
     That only pisses me off more, making me shift her head again. "Joke like that again and I'll beat your ass back into obedience, you understand me?" I mutter, watching for her reaction.
     My Sweetheart's thighs rub together, only encouraging my roughness. Her eyes are drowning in lust, tongue almost hanging out of her mouth in a pant. "Yes, Sensei," My Princess says softly, quickly making my dick hard again. I need to talk to Tsunade.
     "That's my Sweetheart. Be an Obedient Girl," I praise, debating on kissing her or not as a reward. There are a lot of people out and about though, and I really should bring Tsunade into the loop before I'm public about my relationship, or lack thereof. I need to take my kunoichi on a date.
     "Yes, Sensei," she repeats, satisfying me. I rub her cheeks for a second before letting her go.
     Date ideas swirl around my head as I continue walking. I shouldn't take her out to eat, we already do that all the time, so it wouldn't be any different. Well, if I take her somewhere fancy but I should probably put a little more effort into it.
     My Sweet Girl's hands collide with my back, balling up my shirt once I'm in her grasp. "Sensei, where are we going?" Her sweet voice rings out, silencing my thoughts for a second.
     "We have to report to Tsunade, Little One," I answer, slowly my paces so the chance of her tripping goes down.
     Her fingers tap against my back, tapping out some melody as she trails after me. "That's boring. Are you going to talk to her while we're there? About us?" She asks, making my anxiety claw back into my chest.
     "No," I answer quickly, my prediction of Tsunade reaction rolling around my head. I don't need my student seeing Tsunade hand me my ass.
     My Little One clings to my shirt, the material balled in her hands again. "Why not?" She's upset, actually upset and not her whiney 'I'm needy, fuck me' upset. It makes my heart ache. I don't want to disappoint my Sweetheart.
     "You don't need to be present during that conversation, Sweet Girl," I answer a laugh following my words. I can only imagine her face while I'm getting my shit rocked. "Don't worry your pretty little mind, I'll talk to her soon, have some patience," I coo, trying to ease over her emotions.
     "Promise?" My Little One asks, her voice softly as she clings to my shirt harder.
     "Promise."
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     My heart seems loud in my ears as I search the hallways for my student. Today's anxiety is a mixture of the speech I've been practicing to confess my situation to Tsunade and because I can't find my Sweetheart.
     I left her for ten minutes, only ten minutes, long enough to talk to the Head Anbu. Long enough to fill him in on the new information on the Akatsuki. Ten minutes and she's gone. On the plus note, she can't be in too much trouble. After all the Hokage palace is the most secure place in the village. My Little One can't be getting into much mischief... I think.
     I roll over my speech, rehearsing it again so that when I finally talk to Tsunade I have it down. Tsunade who already seems suspicious. Tsunade who seems to have noticed every whine, whimper, and grasp my kunoichi has tried in the past week. Tsunade who asked why my student spends so much time at my house.
     Tsunade who I've avoided talking to because she's terrifying. I know I've been putting off our conversation. I know it's disappointing my Sweetheart. I know my Sweet Girl is getting upset from the lack of me, from the lack of sex, the lack of my time and attention, and from the lack of us having a proper relationship. From me sucking at relationships and putting off asking her on a proper date. I need to stop putting stuff off.
     "Oh my God. You thought... oh my," my Princess's voice rings out, distress evident in her voice.
     My body jerks, panic washing over me at the sound. My pace picks up, scanning the hallways and rooms for her. What situation could she possibly be in? Why couldn’t she just obey me and stay put?
     "No!" Someone barks, making me stress even more. "Well not at first but when you said you were training under Jiraiya I just... I wanted to be sure you weren't..." The voice continues, making it easier to figure out where the possible threat to my kunoichi is.
     I scurry forward, turning down the hallway I'm pretty sure the voices are coming from. I was right, which is good, but so bad.
     Genma, one of Tsunade's guards, is hovering over my kunoichi. My Little One that has her hand down his pants. My Sweet Girl who told me when we got home that if I ignored her, she'd find her wants somewhere else. My student who's looking up at Genma with those big beautiful 'fuck me' eyes that should be looking up at me. My Sweetheart that's enveloped in Genma's frame that doesn't make her seem as small as she seems under me. My Princess and Genma who are making my blood boil.
     "I'm not a pervert," Genma continues, pissing me off even more. How can he say that? He has her caged, has her stuck under him, has someone young enough to be his student pressed up against the wall as he humps my Sweetheart like some street mutt.
     I know it's hypocritical of me. I've spent the past month sleeping with my Little One, I'm older than both of them, I am known for being a pervert. But she's my student, my kunoichi, my Sweetheart, which means I have dibs. Dibs that I fully use, constantly.
     "Could convince me otherwise," I huff, my voice coming out louder than I meant. I can feel my anger seeping off of me, I can feel the heat of it on my face and crawling across my chest.
     Despite that, my Little One doesn't seem to notice. "Hi, Sensei!" She calls, shifting out from under Genma's arms, her hand still buried down his pants, which only pisses me off more. "How was your meeting?" She continues, her soft sweetness soaking through the heavy situation.
     That upsets me even more. My Sweet Girl is so happy to have my attention, so happy to see me, all because of my lack of affection towards her. I storm down the hallway, Genma getting paler the closer I get and my student getting happier.
     Genma jerks away from my student, bowing once I get closer. "Jiraya, Sannin, sir," he shrieks towards the ground. He's as nervous as I'm pissed. It's would funny if I didn't have the image of my kunoichi clinging to him burned into my head.
     "Genma," I call back, focus set on my bubbly student. She's all smiles with her usual mischievousness in her eyes. She's happy I caught her. It almost hurts, knowing even though I'm angry my Sweetheart is joyful to have my attention. "My student is too young for you." That's a lie, Genma is a more fitting age gap than her and me, but I'm choosing to ignore that.
     "She's only... ten years younger... sir." The sentence snaps my anger back into place, completely counteracting the soothing my student unknowingly started.
     My Princess shifts, mirroring me as she shows off her smile. "That's not so bad, Sensei. After all, you're thirty years older than me," she points out, as cocky as ever.
     I crouch down, locking eyes with her before I start speaking. "Ya, well, I don't have you pinned to the Hokage Palace wall, rubbing my boner against you."
     Somehow her smile grows even more. Her curved mouth opens, a promise to throw a comment about us into the open. I jerk forward, wrapping my hand around my Sweetheart's mouth to cut her off. "You're being a disgraceful shinobi," I hiss out, deepening my glare.
     Genma moves, pulling himself out of his bow. "Sannin, sir?"
     "Get out of my presence," I hiss, burning my student's cocky face into my mind. She looks cute and inspirational. Maybe I'll put this scene in my new book too.
     "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Genma mumbles before darting away, leaving me alone with my cocky attention hungry student.
     My Sweetheart jerks away from me, mouth running as soon as she's free from my grasp. "You know good and well you'd be thrilled to be humping me against the wall too. Or maybe not, since you seem to not be into me anymore."
     She's right, about the first part. I'd give anything for a few uninterrupted minutes with her. My skin burns from not being able to feel hers, my fingers are impatient with the yearning to feel her hair running through them, and my balls are so heavy it feels like I'll nut just from her stare.
     The second half of my Little One's rant isn't correct, nowhere near it. It ticks my anger even more. Can't she tell how much I want her? Can't my Sweetheart see how desperate I am for every part of her? Hasn't she noticed how much I crave her touch? Her voice? Her eyes? Her laugh? Why can't my pretty kunoichi see how addicted I am to her? How much I adore her sass, her attitude, her personality, her very being?
     "Little One," I grumble, terribly failing at hiding my anger that I know truly isn't her fault. I'm upset at the situation I put us in, at the fact I keep putting off talking to Tsunade. "If I had it my way, we'd be locked up in my house for the next week doing nothing but practicing scenarios for my new book," I confess my little fantasy to her as my hand cups her cheeks again. I cling to her face, soaking up the softness of her skin rubbing against mine.
     I have thought about it a lot, reenacting scenes from my past books, and recreating situations with her so I can take them in better to be able to describe them perfectly in my next novel. I've been rolling over the plot of my next story, thinking of mirroring it to ours.
     My Sweetheart will make a fantastic read, an amazing heroine. I can't help the fact that my recent writings have curved around her, that I'm set on giving her to the inked paper, all to share my small piece of heaven with others that occupy the living realm. It would be sinful not to share her with the world.
      "But," I continue, shifting closer to her with the hopes it'll stop my wandering mind. "We have a very important job for our village. I cannot drop everything every time your pussy aches for attention. Stop acting like a spoiled Princess." The words seem harsh, even as I say them, but she pays no attention to them.
     My Little One goes straight into her tantrum, further proving to me how little of my longing I share with her. "You haven't paid any attention to me, Jiraya! You said you'd talk to Tsunade but you haven't. It's all your fault we're not having sex, much less anything else. I can live awhile without you in me but you won't give me any undivided attention."
    "Oh ya? Is that your issue Sweet Girl?" I mock, my ego completely rubbed from her whines. "Is that why you're acting out? You miss me? You miss my attention? My dick, you sex addict? You miss my little kisses and touches? You miss our dinners alone?"
     My Sweetheart wraps herself around my arm again, her fingers clinging to me as those big dewy eyes of hers look up at me. It's tempting, to give away to my jealousy, ball her up under me, fuck her against the wall like Genma so desperately wanted to.
     But I can't. She needs to learn there is a time and place. The Hokage palace is neither the right time nor place.
     Her fingers dig into me, clinging to my wrist. "Yes," My Sweet Girl whimpers, as pouty as ever. "Like me back, Jiraiya. Pay attention to me. Like me back," the repeated sentence comes out soft, almost a cry as the words tumble from her lips.
     Her last sentence rings in my ears, making me feel better about whatever this is. This isn't some fling for my student, it's something she wants. Something she craves just as much as me. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I know I've been busy. I'll make it up to you, I promise," I voice, loosening my fingers.
     I tip my head, brushing long-awaited kisses across her face. My Princess feels nice against me, only encouraging my addiction even more.
     Despite the attention, she's still huffy. "Sure you will."
     "I will," I reiterate, shifting my head closer to her ear. "Because I like you back," I whisper, brushing more kisses across her. "We'll go out tomorrow, okay? A nice dinner all alone, and I'll give you all the attention you want. Just be patient, Sweet Girl." I know it's unfair of me, I know she has been patient, I know. But, events of the day are already in motion and I can't put them off. Not unless I want Tsunade on me.
     My kunoichi clings to me tighter, trying to tug my hold off as she whines. "You said that earlier this week. I have been patient. We're not going to get to eat alone, we never do. Hurry up and talk to Tsunade." She gets to be a pouty mess because she's right. We can't go anywhere - much less sit down to eat - without bumping into someone who wants or needs something from me. The life of a famed shinobi and a high-selling author.
"I will. Today. I promise," I mutter, the anxiety of talking to Tsunade already sliding up my spine. I shift my gaze, soaking in the color of her eyes again to help calm myself. "But, tonight I'm going to beat your ass red since you want to be such an unobedient girl," I continue, scanning for her reaction.
From the way my Princess has been reacting recently, she likes it when I'm a little more rugged on occasion. This time isn't any different. Lust pools her eyes as her legs rub together, a tell-all sign that I've turned her on. "Why?" She peeps out, her fake innocence covering her face as she looks up at me.
I can't help but laugh at her little act, at how see-through we both know it is. I dip back down, barely letting our lips touch as I talk. "Why? Because, Little One, you went and acted like you're on the market for anyone to have. You are mine. My student, my kunoichi, mine, and apparently filling up your tight little cunt and marking you up isn't enough proof for you."
My words turn me on just as much as I'm sure they make my Princess brew. Just the thought of my cum dripping out of her pussy is enough to make my dick ache. "You are mine," I say again, watching the way her eyes light up. "Repeat it," I order, desperate to hear her agree. Desperate to know for certain that my Sweetheart does want to be mine.
     "I am yours."
     I am not a religious man, but I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left, I will thank them every day for getting to hear those three little words.
     My eyes shoot down, quickly followed by my hand, as I watch my Sweetheart attempt to stimulate herself. She doesn't get to do that, she doesn't get to get off after she's spent the past few minutes teasing me, tempting me.
     I grip her inner thigh, tugging her legs apart as I start my next order. "I have to run an errand for Tsunade. You, Sweetheart, are going to go home, strip, and sit on my bed with your head in my pillows and your ass in the air." The thought of my Obedient Girl actually obeying me strains my pants even more. 
     "You are going to wait, and wait, and wait until I am done. If you even dare to touch yourself, I will overstimulate you until you feel like you can't breathe, am I understood?" It's harsh, like I was before, but I intend to stay true to my words. If my Little One wants to prance around with Genma, she doesn't get to cum on her own. She gets to be reminded of how well I know her body, how easy it is for me to satisfy her, and how quickly I can become too much for her.
     "Yes, Sensei," she mumbles, still trying to rub her thighs together. The plushness of her fills my hand, her tissue soaking through my fingers, turning me on even more. I swear this errand and my conversation with Tsunade is going to feel like an eternity.
     I litter her lips in soft quick kisses, digging in my pocket for my keys. "There's my Obedient Girl. Use those patience I've taught you," I murmur, giving her my keys as I soak in the feeling of her mouth against mine.
     "Yes, Sensei," She repeats a bit louder this time, making the fit Tsunade would throw if I pushed off her errand seem worth it. It's not, I have work to do, I can wait. I can wait. I can wait.
     "Sweet Girl," I praise, tilting my head as the words spill out. I deepen our kiss, keeping us connected longer this time. I can't wait. "Go home and wait," I order, pulling away from her beautiful face. I can't walk away, and if she doesn't, I'm going to get one hell of a beating from Tsunade.
     My Princess does as she's ordered, playing with my keys as she walks away from me. I stay put, watching the way her hips sway as she walks away. I swear this girl is going to be the death of me.
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     The closer to home I get, the more my anxiety seeps out of me. I did it, I told Tsunade about my student and me. She didn’t attack me, she didn’t even yell. All she did was sit there and glare, which somehow was worse than anything else. It means that tomorrow she’s going to have one hell of a reaction. Oh well, that’s tomorrow’s issue.
My balls ache when my front door falls into view. My Sweetheart is waiting for me in there, my Sweetheart that’s about to get her pussy destroyed and her cunt filled. It’s been too long since I’ve left my load in her.
My actions are quick, anticipation fills my balls more than my semen does. It’s a blur, getting into the house and making my way to my bedroom. “Little One?” I call, swinging my bedroom door open.
A groan brews in my throat at the sight of her. She’s laid exactly how I asked her, her head buried in my pillows and her butt in the air. My Princess’s pussy is on display, her wetness glistening and walls clenching for me. “There’s my Obedient Girl,” I coo, walking across the room.
“Welcome home, Sensei. How was your errand?” She asks, knuckles white from clinging to the pillowcase. God damn, I want to shove my dick into her dripping cunt, I want to fuck her until tears coat her face, I want to fill her pussy so much that I’m leaking out of her all through tomorrow.
“It was fine,” I finally answer, eyes still locked on her pulsing cunt. “How has my bedroom been?” I ask, settling on the bed. I run my fingers through her folds, enjoying the warmth and her juices oozing from her.
“Good,” she whimpers, pussy clenching even more from my small touch.
I shift my focus, messing with her hole to see it gap even more for me. I’m a jerk about it, barely pushing my fingertips into her. My focus stays on this spot of her, ways to describe her core running through my head.
After a beat, I tug my fingers further up, focusing my teasing on her clit. “You've been very bratty, Sweetheart. I'm worried my spoiling of you is making you rotten, Princess,” I confess to her despite not actually being that worried about it. I like how bratty she is and how needy she can be. It’s nice having a partner that can keep up with my urges.
My Little One bucks backward, her pussy unsatisfied and upset with my teasing. “I’m not,” she whimpers, his desperately trying to get me to finger her pussy.
“Hush, Little One,” I mutter, smacking her pussy before completely pulling my touch away. I pay attention to how she reacts, partly for her good and partly to describe this scene in my next book. I’ve finally settled on a plot, and beating her ass is going to be the opening chapter. This is going to be the first chapter, her pussy dripping for me and aching even more from the small slap I gave it.
I stand up, off to go find something to spank her with. I could use my hands and watch the way her butt easily fits in my grasp, but if written that scene a hundred times. I need something new, something exciting for my readers.
I settle in front of my desk, shifting stuff around in search of something to use. “Sensei?” My Sweetheart calls, dividing my attention for a second. “What are you doing?” She asks as my eyes settle on my hairbrush. That could work, it could work very well actually.
“I told you, Sweetheart,” I start, heading back towards her. My student has shifted her position, head tucked down to watch me under her pressed-together knees. “I'm going to beat your ass red.”
My eyes jump between her pussy and her face, enjoying the sight of her like this. When my knees collide with the bed, I’m back to action instead of just admiring her. My hand settles in her hair, clinging to her locks as I fix her position. I know I won’t be able to beat her ass if she’s looking at me like that. “Stay like that, Sweet Girl. I don’t need the neighbors hearing you.”
I release her hair, my sights set on the arch of her back. I love how pretty my Princess’s back looks when she’s bent like this. My fingers tumble down, sliding over the bumps and valleys of her spine. I change my mind, I could spend a chapter describing the curves of her back instead of the sight of her pussy.
When I run out of valleys on her back, my attention shifts to her butt. My touches are gentle and soft, toying with her skin to prep it for the spankings it’s going to receive. Once I’m satisfied with my cooing, I focus back on the reasoning for her position. I pull the brush backward before letting it swing down, smacking the plastic of it into her behind.
“Sensei!” My kunoichi squeals, jumping forward from the blooming pain.
My eyes skirt over the blooming pink of her behind, the outline of the brush head stamped into her cheek. “Oh, you’re fine spoiled Princess,” I mutter, scanning her body language, making sure she’s not uncomfortable and that the smack wasn’t too hard. I grip her waist, tugging her back into position.
I go back to calming her skin, toying with the pink skin as I watch the way her pussy clenches from the touch, making sure I’ll be able to describe it perfectly in my rough draft tonight. When I’m satisfied with a description, I turn back to spanking her.
I coat her behind in more spankings, switching between her cheeks as I coat them with pink ovals. It’s intoxicating, the sound of the hard plastic colliding with my student’s skin, the sound of her whines and whimpers, the sight of her pussy clenching.
Her juices drip from her cunt, starting to cost her thighs. “Aw, look at that. You like this, don’t you, Sweetheart?” I tease, landing another smack as the fingers not wrapped around the brush dips into her. “Your pussy is all wet from your spankings,” I continue the mockery, sliding my touch through her pussy. “Let me take care of you, Little One,” I hum out, satisfied with the rest run, though we might have to try again if I struggle with my writing process.
I bend down, sliding my lips over her sore skin as I toy with her, ideas of how to spice up the story tumbling around my head. My eyes flicked to the abandoned brush, an idea forming in my head. I’ve heard stories of women getting off with their hairbrushes, I wonder what that would look like, how my pretty Princess would react.
“Sensei?” My Sweet Girl whines, the sound going straight to my dick. She thrusts backward again, only encouraging the growing boner in my pants.
My fingers wrap around the brush again, tugging it up before I line it to her cunt. “Princess?”
I tip the end of the handle into my Sweetheart, getting her to jump forward in response. “What are you doing?!” She yelps, head snapping down between her legs again.
My student is beautiful, with eyes that enchant me every time I see them. God, I’m addicted to this girl. “You need to learn to listen, Little One,” I start, lining the hairbrush against her again. I tip it back into her, moving slowly just in case. I don’t think it will hurt, but it’s a different plastic than a dildo so I’m still going to be careful. “I told you I wanted to practice scenarios for my new book.”
Her pussy shifts open as I press the plastic further into her. My Sweet Girl’s walls clench around it, trying to sink it further into herself. It doesn’t work though, making me a bit smug. “You’re a pervert,” she mumbles, hips rocking in need.
I give her what she wants, slowly thrusting the brush in and out of her. “I’m not a pervert. I can’t write a scene I haven’t acted out, and you, my Sweet Girl, made it very clear you don’t want me doing my research on other women. So, that leaves you.” It’s an honest observation, even from before we were screwing. It’s gotten worse since we started sleeping together, my kunoichi’s jealousy being just as bad as mine.
My eyes drop at the same time my hand does. I snake it between her legs, quick to find her neglected clit. It doesn’t take long for my Little One to come undone. “Sensei,” she whines, her pussy clinging to the brush as she coats it with her cum.
“Princess,” I call back, dipping my head down. I go straight to licking up her mess, enjoying my fix of her as I occasionally brush a kiss or two against her thighs. “This will make a wonderful chapter for my book,” I mutter, thrusting the handle of the brush into her again. I need to make her orgasm with it once more, just to be sure I can describe the situation perfectly. What an obedient student I have, one that’s perfect for my research.
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transfem-tomboy-oni · 16 days
Text
I feel like I should jjust give up on all my "good" qualities and stop trying to be a "good person" and fighting sgainst all my bad qualities. I. I start to feel like there's nothing good coming of it for me, and not enough good for anyone else to actually keep bothering with me.
I feel like the positive things I get told the most is that I'm nice, and that I'm beautiful.
But. Apparently I'm not enough of either for people to... stick around.
I don't know. Even now I don't know what to write. Cuz it might might people unhappy. But.
Maybe I'll try to let what I feel out, for just this once;
I do my fucking hardest, successfully too most of the time, to make people happy, to help them, to make them feel comfortable around me. Cuz all my life no ones ever done that for me. In school people gave no two shits about me, unless it was to make fun of me or get their homework done easier. FOR 9 DAMNED YEARS. Then I switched schools. I guess I had friends. Friends that, as soon as they were not forced to be in the same classroom as me either cut contact or essentially bullied me online. Since then I haven't made friends in person. My own mom has been there for me. As in. Provided for food, entertainment and ignoring my existence otherwise. I got hugged by her for the first time I can remember when I tried offing myself and telling her that I thought I wasn't worth anything and she didn't love me. She graced herself to hug me long enough so I stopped crying and then pushed me away and went back to watching TV alone telling me to go cuz SHE NEEDS A MOMENT. My dad is just inept. Nice. Trying his best. I guess. I used to see him once every 2 weeks, and we talked like 2 hours maybe, where he left me completely to myself otherwise. The person I had contact and an actual "friendship" with the longest eventually started using that friendship and manipulating and breaking apart my entire friend group to just fucking use me as his damned sex toy whenever he felt like it. And I didn't realize for what? 8 or more damned years. That friend group is now so splintered and fucked that I don't even know what the fuck to do about it. Do I still want them? Do they still want me? Pretty sure they don't enjoy me around anymore tbh. Newest friends I made are from therapy or from tumblr, and it's like 5 people in total, 1 if which I haven't talked to in 2 months as I assume she doesn't give a shit about me anymore, at least not that I could tell. And I still really really damned like her but I wish I fucking didn't cuz it's fucking tearing me apart. I suppose I got used to her being there for me and when she wasn't when I was at 2 of my absolute lowest points my mind just broke or something idk. 2 of them I met in therapy and one of them is nice but doesn't have time, which is okay but also annoying to be honest, but it's not her fault I suppose, and the other ignores me whenever she can. The newest 2 ppls I met are nice but I feel like they either are scared of me, I guess at this point rightfully so or don't actually care.
I keep saying that I'm not super likeable when you stick around me for too long and everyone always tells me they don't think so but somehow the only people that seem to have sticked around for years either did cuz they had no choice or in one case because they didn't actually like me and just enjoyed my body.
So. My honest feelings, no one actually cares about making me happy. I want to be treated the way I try my hardest to treat everyone else. I. I'm tired of having and making friends. I can't bear it. I can't bear being alone either. I have been for too long. I. I want this to end, not my life, just this this this dambed conflict of everything. I feel such conflicting things. I'm trying my hardest to make things right for everyone. And I feel like I am not getting enough back to even keep me going until 30.
Love is conditional. And I don't think I am capable of meeting these conditions. Besides all my hatred for how I'm being treated. I still only blame one person. Myself. For just not being good enough.
I wasn't wanted in this world. I was conceived on accident. And I feel that in the way my mother treats me.
But I hoped that maybe someone else doesn't.
Maybe I'll be able to hold on long enough until I can find someone that does want me. Maybe.
I hold so much hope. For such a hopeless person. Such a hopeless world. I wish I could give up.
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skaldish · 2 years
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I saw your post about male intimacy and whatnot, and it made me want to share.
I don't know if it is gendered, but I assume it is (it could just be me) but something that makes that experience so much more oppressive is how American men are raised to handle emotion. From the very beginning you are shown that the worst thing a man can be is weak, and that emotions are weakness. So, without even realizing it, you strangle your emotions relentlessly, throttling your 'weak' responses and thoughts, until one day it doesn't bother you anymore. And then, once you realize that doing that was unhealthy, you find that the reason it stopped bothering you is that the process is so subconscious now that you don't know what you are feeling anymore. Unless it is a societally approved emotion like rage or joy (how horrid that rage fits in here) you just can't tap into how you feel. You have reactions and then later you say, "Oh, I think I acted that way because I was sad."
I'm putting this in on anon because I don't have the courage to be seen, as a man, putting this forward in my own voice. It's weak. I feel ashamed even typing this, but something is pushing me forward. And worst, I consider myself well-adjusted compared to lots of my male peers. This is a tragedy that we have been conditioned to perpetrate against ourselves.
Thanks for your post. It kindled something in me that feels very important. I wish you the best on your journey.
You're welcome.
I've only just begun to experience what it's like to be perceived as male, because I hormonally transitioned during the pandemic.
But for what it's worth, maybe I can try to provide some context for what it is you guys are going through.
(Disclaimer: I'm not a psychologist.)
So, I'll start by pointing out this terrifying thing: Every last ask given to me by cis men (which are many!) describes male conditioning the same way my followers who grew up in religious cults describe their religious brainwashing.
Yes. Actually.
Take a moment to swap "being weak" with "sinning," the word "man" with the word "Christian," and "emotions" with the word "doubt," and you will have something extremely close to the same thing.
The same way cults enact undue influence on their followers, it seems like American culture enacts undue influence on men.
I'm also someone who has complex lifelong traumas and was successfully treated for them, so I can tell you that I intimately know the feeling of:
"I want to act on this authentic impulse, but I can't seem to make myself do that because I'm fucking terrified the rejection will be too much to handle."
This is what my EMDR therapist described as "programming and conditioning." This is something that's learned by a very deep part of the brain, one that controls our basic survival. This part always overrides our higher thinking because it's evolutionarily designed to do so, for our protection and survival. Even if we want to act differently, we can't because of how our brains work.
But I'm telling you this here and now, as a man who grew up as a woman—this fear of weakness you have looks more like a programmed thing than a masculinity thing. Because I actually feel WAY more comfortable expressing my softer and shyer side now that I'm on T and presenting masculine.
Also, the compulsion to shove down your emotions or do things that "fight against the weakness," is behavior that looks striking similar to the way cult-members use affirmations or certain activities to self-indoctrinate. Self-indoctrination soothes the brain and stops it from doubting or questioning the views of the cult.
(Come to think of it, shoving things down is also how the Boomer generation goes about ignoring their traumas, as if that somehow doesn't come out sideways in every interaction they have.)
I guess the point I'm trying to make is this:
It's not that this just "sucks." This is literally actually trauma.
I can't even begin to describe to people the awful, gaping, howling, wordless wound that's inflicted by lifelong, early-childhood trauma. It is a yawning and cavernous need that sits at the very bottom of your soul. It feels like you're always mourning the loss of someone you love, but you don't even know who. And nothing you do ever seems to remotely reach it, let alone give it what it's crying out for.
Good gods, it took me months and months of extremely difficult and specialized therapy to uncover that starving part of myself. Sure, I am never able to change the fact I had been so hurt—but I did finally get to feed that starving part of myself.
What I'm saying is, the healing is possible and the affects of the wound can be nullified.
I think the more people destigmatize treating mental health, the more awareness and availability there will be for these kinds of things.
I genuinely want everyone who's AMAB to know that struggling with this kind of thing is brutally hard, is NOT a sign of weakness, and IS something you can justify treating as trauma, rather than a moral failing.
People want to be intimate with people and that's simply just a human thing, not a gender thing.
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stacywaters · 26 days
Text
Just Pretend (BEOMGYU) CH6 - Another Faded Polaroid
*NOTE: THIS STORY IS NOT REPRESENTATIVE OF THE MEMBERS IN REAL LIFE, IT IS PARTLY BASED ON THE CONTENT FROM THE MUSIC VIDEOS AND COMPLETELY FICTIONAL!! They're not actually mean it's just for the story 😭
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(BEOMGYU POV)
It's lunch break, and I walk behind my friends on the sidewalk. I force a laugh and smile whenever they turn to me, but for the most part, I'm in my own world right now. I enjoy talking to Y/N, it's the only time I can talk about myself without judgement. My friends... I haven't tried talking to them about it. I have a feeling they wouldn't know what it's like to walk into a room and know everyone, and yet not a single seat has been saved for you.
As for my father, he always seems angry at me. I think he thinks I'm on the wrong track, and forcing me to think 'practically' is helping me so I don't regret my choices later. I just wish he had more faith in me, so he wouldn't assume that my choices are ones I'd come to regret.
I don't know Y/N that well. I don't know why she asked me to be her date to prom, she could've asked anyone. Maybe she figured I wasn't going with anyone else, which starts my racing thoughts. Worries of can everyone else see my insecurities? Is it obvious? Can everybody tell that I don't know what the hell I'm doing? I don't know.
And I do feel sometimes like I shouldn't be so honest with her. But, every time I turn to her, she always seems like she's listening to every word I say.
And right now, I just need someone to talk to.
"Beomgyu, you listening?"
"Huh?" I lift my head.
"So, I wanna give you another chance. I haven't told Minji yet, so you can still go out with her friend!"
I stumble over my words, "I-, I thought I said I wasn't interested"
Yeonjun laughs, "well, yeah, but that's just cause Y/N was there. It's nice of you to try to spare her feelings, but she's holdin' you back, bro"
"It had nothing to do with her. I just don't have time for something like that.. right now" I stammer.
"C'mon man, we all know she has a crush on you"
My face flushes, "why would you even SAY that? Y/N just-"
"You can be so oblivious," Yeonjun sighs, "Y/N is WAY obsessed with you. But don't miss out on something good because you're pitying her"
I grit my teeth, "I'm not pitying her. And I don't want to date your friend. I already told you"
Under my breath, I mutter, "sometimes, I don't even want to be your friend"
My friends stop as Yeonjun takes a firm step towards me, "what did you say to me?"
Suddenly, I no longer feel like the lost boy who stuck with friends who were no good for him because he was lonely. A rush of confidence takes over as I smirk, "Yeonjun, I'm starting to think you have a listening problem.
Or is it just your ego?"
He strides towards me, "what makes you think you can talk back to me? You think you're so cool now that one girl looks your way?"
"You always walk all over me like I'll come running back. Like you're better than me. What makes you think you can talk back to me?" I mock, "last I checked, this is just how you and me talk to each other now, Yeonjun"
He pushes me down to the sidewalk, "c'mon guys. Let's go"
And they follow behind him. Just like I knew they would. I look at the scrapes on my hands, then to their backs as they walk away.
Well, I knew this was going to happen eventually, right?
-----
(2 Days Later)
It's been a while since I've been to school. I didn't want to have to face Yeonjun. Or the others. I wanted them to think I was strong, and that their words couldn't hurt me. I felt like... if they saw me cry, they'd use it against me. In the moment, I felt like none of it hurt. Like it was the end of an era of pain and bottled-up feelings and tolerating it because it was all I had. They were all I had.
It was more than any one moment could capture, it was the culmination of many moments that I told myself weren't worth fighting over. Times when I'd get talked over. Times when I wasn't invited, and they'd come up with some excuse as to why. When there was a separate group chat. When I wasn't there for the inside jokes that, apparently, can't be retold. But it wasn't always this way.
Me and Yeonjun had been friends for years, way before the rest came along. We would spend so long just talking. I felt like he got me better than anyone else could. Then the rest came. It wasn't all at once, but slowly, more and more people were added to our friend group. I no longer felt like I was Yeonjun's best friend, even though he was mine.
Up until a few days ago, he still was.
He didn't use to care so much about what other people thought of him. Something changed. He wanted to be cool, he wanted respect, he wanted to get the girl he'd been chasing for years. And I was just someone from his past. Another faded polaroid. And he never wanted to take a new one.
So, I tried to make new friends. Tried to talk to others, break into the conversation. It seemed like having friends that treated me poorly was still better than being all on my own.
I went back to them. I accepted that I'd be walking in the bike lanes while they stayed on the sidewalk. I learned how to look busy when they were telling a joke I wasn't there for. I learned to be less so they could be more. So they could take more. Because on the outside, no one can tell that I don't have friends. No one can tell that inside, I'm still on the outside. And I thought that could be enough. It would have to be.
I haven't told her, but I noticed Y/N from the beginning. It was all so familiar. The panicked glances at the announcement of a group project, the seat in the back of the room, the headphones that weren't plugged into anything. Maybe that's why I felt so comfortable talking to her, it was like I already knew her.
I hope my friends-, er... I hope my old friends didn't notice that my hands were still shaking as I talked back to them. I wanted them to think I was indifferent about it all, I wanted them to think that. But... I'm not strong. Once they'd fled, I cried my eyes out. Because even if it was for the best, it still hurts. So I haven't been to school in days because I don't know how I will act when I see them again.
———
For the first time today, I pull myself out of bed and walk into the kitchen. I reach for a glass and fill it with water. Then my dad walks in.
He clears his throat, "are you feeling any better?"
"Yeah" I mutter.
He walks to the stove and begins cooking something.
"I heard you were having some trouble with your friends"
"Who told you that?" I ask.
"Your mom" he clarifies.
"Oh" I said.
I sit at the counter and slowly drink my water. It's silent, besides the sounds of him cooking. However, it isn't tense like it has been in the past. Just a normal father and his son.
He breaks the silence, "Y'know, I get how you feel"
"You do?"
"I've had fights with friends before too. It's hard when you had people you could be yourself around, and then you have to walk past them like strangers" he continues, "did you fight, or just fall out of touch?"
"Well, Yeonjun's not the same anymore. He used to be so fun, but... now he's just weird and obsessed with being cool. I was getting annoyed at him walking all over me, so I told him that. And..."
"Yeah. 'S probably because he's insecure, lots of teens act that way" he turns down the heat on the stove, "but you shouldn't be around people that are bringing you down"
"Mhm" I stare into the glass.
It's not common for me to go to my dad for advice, but I'm finding that he does actually know how I feel pretty well.
"Hey dad?"
"Yeah?" He answers while turning to me.
"Will... will I ever make real friends?"
He ponders on it for a moment, "it's hard when you're young. I think as you get older, you'll meet new people and it's easier to find friends that you actually have fun with"
Then, I think of Y/N. She always listens to me, and she's funny and kind, and when I talk to her I never feel like I'm putting up an act.
"How do you get closer to someone that you're only kinda friends with?"
"Hmm, that's a hard question," my dad answers, "ask them questions. Get to know them. People like talking about themselves." He finishes the food he's cooking and grabs a bowl from the cabinet to put it in, "just be open to people. Don't close yourself off. Let people get to know you, and you'll find people that like you. People that you can be yourself around"
He passes the bowl to me, "I made you some soup"
I look down at the steam rising from the soup, "thank you, dad"
He nods and walks out of the kitchen. Just before he leaves, he says, "I hope you feel better soon"
I smile, "thanks dad"
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doodlesfromthebird · 11 months
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Heya I've been drawing for a few years now but I'm still learning every day and I'm more than aware of the skill gap between me and others which is fine I am willing to work hard and improve. You and your art is a really big inspiration to me and I hope to reach your level someday. Can't help however but be really demotivated and easily affected by the difference between me and others and I know I shouldn't compare myself with people who have been drawing for wayyy longer than I have. What was your experience while improving your art? Any words of wisdom from the bird? I love drawing and I don't want to lose this kind of connection to it but most of the hours I spend practising are driven by spite and hatred over my own self aaaagh is this too personal lol thank god for the anonymous option lol I LOVE YOUR ART, I look at everything your passion for art overflows through your work.
Hey, pal! It's nothing to fret over, and I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing this! I think getting all your thoughts out this way is already good way to start, and I hope that alone was able to let off some steam on the subject.
I absolutely know how this feels, and it's still something that crops up for me time to time, too! It's gotten easier to manage over the years, but there's certainly times where it's taken the wind outta my sails and sunk my energy to be creative.
I think when you're wrapped up in that headspace, the best thing to do is stop the struggle and don't try to force progress. Don't even allow yourself to problem solve, or ask anything from yourself when that cloud's over your head. There have been plenty of times where I just end up making myself feel worse by simply asking "why do I like to create in the first place?" because I'll come up with overly critical answers "well, it's the only thing I'm good at"
Wait til you've distanced yourself from that frustration, and then give yourself time to reflect. Why do you actually enjoy making art? What about your connection to your creativity is so special to you? At what point in time did you enjoy drawing the most, and why? Why do you want to improve in the first place?
It's difficult because I think it's wonderful that you're pushing yourself to improve and practice. There's been many times where I've wished I could go back in time and tell myself to get more serious about practicing sooner. However, I absolutely don't think it's worth putting strain on your connection with your creativity. I think spite can be a powerful motivator, but when it's fueled by your own dissatisfaction and hatred for your own work, it cuts off the flow of that essential part of you that loves to create for the sake of it.
Sitting down to practice is going to feel like torture, because that spark of joy just CAN'T get to ya when you're trying to appease that part of you that thinks its you're gonna get left behind if you don't work harder. Brute forcing improvement has absolutely worked for some people! But it's also completely normal for that work style to make YOU feel miserable if it's at odds with how you actually enjoy drawing.
Is this all to say that you should only try to get better when you're in LOVE with how you feel about art? Not at all! You don't have to try and add any special feelings or force positivity, you just have to remove the resistance and the burden you put on yourself as best you can.
So if I could suggest anything, as corny as it may sound: be more kind to yourself. I mean it! Make peace with where you are. Celebrate your small wins. Detach yourself from it, if nothing else. Your art isn't always going to look better than it did yesterday, but look back on your work from a year ago! If you don't like the way your art looks, that's fine! That can be 100% true and it doesn't have to be a bad thing. You're going to improve. Take inspired action and practice in a way that draws that connection you treasure with art closer to you. Spend more time listening and indulging in what the creative in you wants to do in between study sessions.
I can comfortably say that I'm at the skill level where younger me would have wanted to aspire to be at. And yet, I have MANY days where I look at my work and wished it looked like someone else's. I still stare at a blank canvas with an idea in my head and feel dejected because my skill level isn't up to par with what I want to achieve. I promise you your art has value the way it looks Right Now.
Once you give yourself that grace, you're going to start looking forward to practicing. The inspiration that'll hit is going to motivate you to try things you might never have thought you'd attempt. Once you look at your work differently, your work is going to change. That's not going to be easy at first, but you can start by just saying "I am where I am, and I'm getting ready to be even better."
If you're interested in some suggestions to maybe get in the flow, while also satisfy the brain's need for Progress when practicing just isn't hittin' right:
Challenge yourself to scribble whatever pops into your head. Anything. Maybe it's absurdly complicated! Who cares. draw The Last Supper from memory in five minutes as best you can. Draw an insane fight scene with stick figures in weird angles. Your brain is going to !!HATE!! doing it, but that's fine! It's going to force you to detach from it. Allow yourself to create something that's bad and can be thrown away right after. Don't spend more than 30 minutes on these. Take the most complicated ideas off a pedestal by just Attempting them anyway.
Challenge yourself to draw only what would appease your inner child for a full day. If you used to trace over screenshots from a tv show to insert a fan character in, DO THAT. Draw something while listening to the soundtrack of one of your favorite video games as a child. Draw an alternative book cover for one of your favorite childhood books.
Practice anatomy by turning the models your referencing from into your favorite characters.
Color/paint a scene/character by picking colors from a screenshot in a movie you really like.
put on a favorite show/movie and draw for the entire duration of an episode/movie run-time. Draw passively without the intention of showing it to anyone.
draw a bunch of large, wonky shapes that fill up the entire canvas/paper and draw mini illustrations contained within those shapes.
IF ALL ELSE FAILS!!! GO TAKE A NAP!!! :) Don't be hard on yourself for being hard on yourself, either. Allow yourself time and ease.
I hope any of this brought hope, or comfort, or even just something to consider. I'm so glad you enjoy my art!! Thank you for your kind words. You and I and everyone else are walking this same road to improvement, and even though sometimes it might not feel that way, we're ALL walking side by side. You aren't alone, friend.
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blueicequeen19 · 2 years
Text
Mystery Blonde Pt. 3
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Previous
I froze at the sound of Topper's voice on the other side of the door. I couldn't think or form words as I heard the tearing of a wrapper then JJ's hands were on my hips, pulling me back and impaling me on his cock. It stretched me so good that I choked on a moan, gripping the counter. I would never grow used to that feeling when he first slides in. It was enough to make my toes curl and my eyes fall shut just to savor it.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" I jerk when I hear Topper's voice again. What was I doing? I peered over my shoulder at the Pogue who was pushing and pulling against my body. His face was slack with pleasure, the rings on his fingers digging into the skin of my hips. He looked like he was in heaven. When his gaze met mine, he started to smirk, looking to the door where Topper waited on the other side. What the hell was I doing? I should be trying to fix things with Topper. Not fucking JJ again.
"Stop." I whisper, prying at the hands on my hips but JJ shook his head, yanking me upright so I was flush with his chest. I could see where we were connected in the mirror and I couldn't help but feel a new wave of arousal hit me. It was so hot. JJ buries his face in my neck, his hands groping my breasts as my eyes fall closed. This was so wrong.
"Answer him." JJ murmurs in my ear and I blink up at the ceiling. I couldn't think with him inside me. I couldn't focus. My body wanted a release so badly that it was clouding my judgement.
"I'm fine, Topper!" I call through the door. I clamp my mouth shut as JJ starts to roll his hips, stroking me just right on the inside. I couldn't help it. I reached down to feel where he was inside me, my fingers brushing over his balls and he hisses in my ear before biting me harshly on the neck. A surprised sound left my lips but Topper wouldn't be able to hear anything over the loud music.
"I've been thinking, maybe we should talk about what happened." Topper says through the door and hope blossoms in my chest. I meet JJ's gaze in the mirror, his own hand coming down on top of mine as he forces me to start rubbing my clit. I tense up, JJ's eyes pinching closed like I've hurt him.
"Make him leave or I'll open the fucking door. I show him how pretty you are when I make you cum." JJ warns in my ear, goosebumps erupting all over my skin.
"I'll come find you, Top! I want to talk! I want to fix things!" I call through the door. JJ growls, clamping a hand over my mouth as he starts to move his hips faster.
"Okay, I'll wait downstairs." Then he's gone and JJ shoves me down harshly, my chest pressed against the counter as he starts to fuck me.
"No." JJ growls, slamming into me so hard I can't speak. "He cast you aside like dirt and you're going to give him another chance? I know you're not that stupid." I can't take it. His punishing thrusts have me cumming so hard and fast that tears fill my eyes and I taste blood from biting my own lip. My body shakes uncontrollably as he finally stills with a groan, his cock pulsing inside me. JJ spins me around, fixing me with a glare as I use the counter to hold myself up. I couldn't catch my breath. This whole thing had taken everything out of me and now I had to go face Topper. JJ snatches the condom off and drops it in the trash, his cock not softening one bit as he forces it back in his shorts. I fix my dress and tie my hair on top of my head because it's suddenly too hot in here.
"This can't happen again." I say calmly, fear clawing its way up my throat as his expression darkens with anger.
"Y/N, he's not worth it! He's just using you." JJ pleads and I roll my eyes, fighting back tears. When did I become the girl stuck between two men? One who lit me on fire and the other that smothered me.
"Like you? You didn't even know my name until that night and you certainly didn't give a damn about me until I fucked you. So don't act like you're any different. I want Topper. I want to make it work with Topper. This was nothing more than a fuck so don't act like it's something else." I spin towards the door, suddenly realizing that I don't have any panties, when he catches my arm and yanks me against him. He leans down so we're almost nose to nose.
"I'm not letting you go. You're not Topper's girl anymore." JJ growls, his nostrils flared. I jump when he reaches around and tugs my hair loose, his hand coming up to cup my face but I turn away. Why did this hurt so bad? It was just sex.
I push him away with a scoff, throwing the door open and disappearing down the stairs before anyone could see me. I grab a beer from an available cooler to quickly wash down the taste of JJ. I shudder before quickly trying to push what just happened out of my mind. I look up to see Topper approaching me.
"Hey, you okay? You were gone awhile." Topper says, his eyes narrowed.
"So we're talking now? Because after what happened, you've barely looked at me." I snap, my own eyes widening at the venom in my voice. Topper grabs my arm and pulls me out the backdoor away from the party. I know he's about to lay the guilt trip on thick. He can’t handle being put in his place.
"You mean after you slept with a Pogue?" Topper hisses, looking around like it'll embarrass him more than me for people to hear.
"I thought he was you. I was drunk." I cry.
"So that's all it took? Get some liquor in your system and you'll spread your legs? Maybe I should've tried that a long time ago." Topper scoffs at me. I fight the urge to slap him.
"You asshole. I did it for you. I forced myself to do it for you. I wanted that moment to happen with you. I want to be with you. I just needed a little liquid courage. I was so nervous. I went in there with the intention of giving my virginity to you."
"Well, you didn't. You gave your virginity to some low life Pogue. Hopefully you were smart enough to make him wear a condom." I spin around, done with this conversation when he catches my wrist with a defeated sigh. I blink back tears. My life was ruined. What was I going to do now? If word of this got out, I’d be ruined.
"Look, I'm sorry. I just care about you. I'm so mad and I don't know who to be mad at." Topper intertwined our fingers and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Can't we move past this? I don't hardly remember it anyway. We can still have our first time together." I plead and his eyes soften before he leans down to kiss me. I take a step back as he kisses me too hard, pushing me against the side of the house. His hands dive up my dress and I gasp when he cups my bare pussy.
"No panties? That's so fucking hot." Topper growled against my lips but I pushed his hands away before someone caught us back here. Topper scoffed in annoyance as I fixed my dress.
"You'll let him touch you at a party but not me?" Topper shakes his head but I grab his hand, leading him away from the house and to his Jeep before I changed my mind. We both climb in and I quickly straddle his lap, trying to take the lead like I did with JJ.
"What are you doing?" Topper asks as I start to unbuckle his shorts with shaking hands. Was I really going to do this? Sleep with him to win him back?
"I thought you wanted this, Top?" I ask but when I reach down to feel him, I don't find anything. He's not hard. Before I can say anything he yanks me in for another hard kiss, practically splitting my lip in the process. I slip my hand in his shorts, stroking him to help get him ready but nothing works.
"It'll get there." Topper urges, reaching down to give himself a hard tug. I don't know why but the fact that he couldn't even make himself get hard for me was like a punch to the gut. Was it me? Did he not want me anymore not that I wasn’t a virgin? I push the thought of JJ being right out of my mind.
"Touch me, Top." I whisper, continuing to stroke his limp dick. He pulls me in for a kiss again as his hand slips between my thighs, stroking between my holds. His fingers are less skilled than JJ's, diving too far down to find my clit and shoves a finger roughly inside me instead. I cry out from the intrusion when the drivers door suddenly opens and I'm yanked out. I'm dropped down on the grass on my hands, quickly tugging my dress down as I spin back around. JJ is standing on the steps of Topper's Jeep, punching him like a punching bag.
"JJ! Stop!" I cry, running forward and catching the crook of his arm. Topper shoves JJ, knocking us both down to the ground and the impact knocks the wind out of me.
"Are you okay?" JJ reaches for me when he's suddenly tackled by Topper, both rolling away. I look up to see a crowd forming. Someone had to break this up. Where were the Pogues? Or Kelc and Rafe? Topper pins JJ down, trying to deliver blow after blow but JJ quickly deflects, kneeing Topper in the ribs.
“You piece of shit! Couldn’t stick to the sluts on the Cut?” Topper weaves as they get their hands around each other’s neck.
"Stop!" I scream, my hands in my hair as I watch the scene unfold. They roll, a mess of fists and profanities when something falls from JJ's pocket. I gasp at the same time Topper sees it. He smashes his forehead against JJ's nose and scoops up my panties, holding them up for me and everyone at the party to see. JJ lays on his back on the grass, holding his gushing nose.
"Are these yours?" Topper shouts at me and I flinch, aware every pair of eyes was on me.
"Did you fuck him again?" Topper shouts again and I blink, trying to find the words. What had I done?
"Did you?" Topper demands and I look away, brushing my hair off my shoulder. I hear him laugh. "Nice hickey. You sure as shit didn't get that from me." Topper scoffs and I wipe the tears on my cheeks before cupping where the bruise must’ve formed.
"Stop it, Top." I plead.
"So, what? You fuck him then decide to try and fuck me too? You're a slut. I don’t want you and neither will anyone else. I’ll make sure of it." I choke back a sob as Topper tosses my panties at me like garbage. My heart breaks while my whole world comes crashing down. Topper walks away to where Rafe and Kelc have appeared and the Pogues are helping JJ to his feet. JJ moves towards me and I take an immediate step back. I hated this. I hated him. But more importantly, I hated that I wanted to run into his arms. I wanted him to look at me the way Topper never did.
But I couldn’t. My parents would kill me when they found out about this. How did one night with my mystery blonde ruin my entire life?
Tag list: @lovedetlost @hoebx @strokesofstokes @alizabethcs @carnisidi @famousdestinygarden @i-always-come-back-xoxo @pankowforlife @my-baexht-ls @onmykneesforrafe
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Warnings: swearing, oral sex,ALWAYS PRACTICE SAFE SEX IN REAL LIFE!
MINORS DNI YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU READ.
Dark!Morpheus x F/Reader
Part 4
Ok so far this is the longest chapter. Also the most sexually detailed soooooo... Hahaha. Sorry not sorry. Enjoy.
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I quickly led Morpheus through the hallway to my bedroom. I was truly psychotic. Already bringing home a random stranger even though I'm not a one night stand type of girl. I'm insane. I was right though. Even just hearing him moan was worth the possibility of death.
When we got to my room he didn't even bother to look around. He picked me up by the back of my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He was hard again already. Delicious.
"This won't be quick. It's going to last a while, and you will endure every second of it and you will not come until I tell you."
Holy fuck. That was hot. I don't know if I could do this. I have terrible self control when it comes to this. I can try but...what's the worse that can happen? So I nodded my head.
"I'll do anything you want, Morpheus."
He smiled at me. There was a gleam of something in his eyes. It wasn't quite wicked but it definitely wasn't soft. He put his lips almost directly against my ear and whispered,
"I'm going to absolutely wreck you."
If I hadn't promised I wouldn't cum I swear I would have right there. I could feel myself dripping down my legs and he could feel it too.
"You're absolutely soaked for me and we haven't even started yet."
He set me on the bed and I scooted up so my head was against the pillows at the top of the bed. He crawled onto the bed and settled himself in between my open legs, nipping and licking the insides of my thighs.
When he got to my core, he told me to look at him. So I did. He licked all the way from the bottom to the top of my slit and swirled his tongue around my clit a few times without breaking eye contact once.
"Morpheus, fuck!"
He groaned, and the vibrations nearly threw me over the edge.
"Say my name again." He all but growled into me, burying his nose into my clit.
"Morpheus! Please! Fuck!"
"Please what?"
"Let me cum! Let me cum all over your face! I can't hold it anymore!"
He stopped what he was doing for a second, unfortunately. He looked like he was thinking about it. He then said,
"No. You're going to keep taking it until I'm satisfied."
And then he smirked. The mother fucker smirked!
He moved his face back down to my core and sucked hard on my clit and circled his tongue around it making me scream.
"You're making such nice noises for me. Am I making you feel good?"
I couldn't speak anymore. I was getting fucked out. I hadn't even cum yet and I was dying. I was right. He was a god in bed. Ha. I had good judgment of that at least.
Suddenly he got on his knees. He kissed up my stomach, to my nipples giving each one a small tug with his teeth making each peak more than they already were, and up to my neck when he finally reached my lips making me taste myself on his mouth.
"God. Look at this mess I've turned you into."
He pecked my lips one more time and whispered in my ear that it would only get worse.
He sat up on his knees and positioned his cock at the entrance of my aching pussy.
"Beg for it."
That snapped me out of it. At least a little bit.
"What?" I asked.
"If you want to cum, scream my name until you can't anymore and beg for my cock."
My mouth dropped open a bit. I wasn't expecting that. Nope. Nope nope. His eyes went completely black.
"Did you hear me? Beg for it or I'll take care of you like I did Alex!" He asked and semi lightly smacked my outer thigh. Not enough to hurt but enough to sting a little. But him bringing up Alex scared me. I pushed him back a bit with my foot.
"Morpheus, what did you do to Alex?"
His eyes went back to the beautiful blue that they were before.
"It doesn't matter Y/N. He won't bother you anymore."
I was pissed at that comment.
"Of course it matters Morpheus! You just threatened to do to me what you did to Alex and I don't even know what you did to him because you won't tell me! Obviously it's something really bad otherwise you wouldn't have a problem telling me!"
He looked away from me for a second. His hard on completely gone now. He sat back on his heels. Looked me dead in the eyes and there was a flash of a smile. So quick and small you wouldn't have been able to tell it was there if you weren't focused so much on his face.
"I killed him, for you. I've been watching you for awhile now."
@pinksirensong @igotanidea
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dotster001 · 6 months
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Day Two: Piercings
Summary: Gaku x gn!reader. The kid in your college class has some piercings that you can't stop looking at.
Modern au
A/N: okay, but Gaku with some piercings would be so hot 😭
October 2023 Prompt List
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You'd never thought he'd be your type before. But God damn, was he hot.
The aloof kid who sat in the back of your folklore lecture was fine. Even if he always glared at you whenever you'd try to talk to him, and his twin seemed far more welcoming than him, something about him drew you in. 
Particularly the variety of earrings he wore. All on his left ear. From top to bottom, there was a bronze gear, something that looked like a wand, and a drum.
Maybe you were more impulsive than you ever thought you were, but you wanted to touch his earrings. Or maybe you wanted to flirtily caress his ear, using the earrings as an excuse. That's what your friend Kuro had teased when you'd told him about Gaku.
But you didn't think that was it. The drum in particular…it made you queasy sometimes when you looked at him.
So when the two of you were paired up for a project, and he had essentially told you, "Fuck off, I'll do it myself," you'd taken the opportunity to schedule meet ups with him. You were going to ask him about his earrings, god damn it!
It didn't go well…
"I just like them. Something wrong with that?"
"No-"
"You gonna judge me for my tattoos next?"
"You got tattoos?!"
"Let's just finish this project." 
You stared at him in disbelief. He'd always been aloof, but that felt outright hostile. And he seemed to realize it, because he sighed, and looked up from his book.
"I'm not used to people being genuinely interested. Usually it's a lot of 'it's gonna be hard to get a job with those'."
You smiled in what you hoped was a reassuring manor.
"I just think they're really cool. That's all."
He stared and sighed, closing his book.
"I'm a mechanic on the side. The gear is for that."
"And?"
It was clearly a stare down now. Who would crack first? 
You must have been lucky today.
"The one that looks like a stick is a wand. It's an onmyoji wand, we'll probably read a couple of stories about them this semester."
"Onmyoji…" you tested the word out, allowing yourself to taste the word. "I feel like I've heard that somewhere before."
"Yup," he muttered under his breath, moving to open his book again. If he did, you knew you'd never get to have this conversation again.
"And the drum?"
He stiffened. "I like drums."
"That's it?"
"It's not that deep." He seemed awfully insistent, but it wasn't worth pushing.
"And your tattoos?" 
He glared, but seemed to soften when he saw your pleading gaze.
"God, Yura is never gonna let me hear the end of this," he said, pulling down his collar and revealing a butterfly tattoo by his heart. "That's the only one I'll show you, by the way."
"One last question!" You giggled as he groaned. "Can I touch your earrings?"
"What the fuck kind of a question- fine! You can touch them if we can finish our project in this sitting."
You got up from your seat, and moved to the one next to him, gently pushing a lock of his unruly hair behind his ear, and slowly caressing the ridge, fiddling with each earring as you reached it. You lingered longer with the drum, staring so intently at it you didn't notice his ears and face turning bright red, until he stood up, knocking his chair over, and muttering, "I'll see you tomorrow."
He rushed out of the cafe before you could even process what was happening.
You stared down at your hand, noticing your fingers were shaking.
Huh.
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