#toxic relationship
darknymphostuff2 · a day ago
My boyfriend was in a zoom meeting. It’s midday and I accidentally fell asleep on his bed. I wake up to him yanking down my pants.
As I feel his cock slide in, I groan only half awake and he whispers in my ear, “Be quiet. I’m on a zoom call.”
He turns his laptop facing us both. The camera is off but the mic is on. I look up at him shocked, when he drives his cock deep.
My eyes water and I clench the sheets. It hurts but it feels so good. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I repeat in my head because as soon as I think I got it, he’s biting my ear and my neck.
I want to moan and my hips are moving on their own. I’m writhing underneath him but he pins my arms down and increases his weight.
They ask him a question. He speaks, but is not in a rush. He’s elaborating on something complex and still pushing inside of me at a steady rhythm. I feel his rapid heartbeat beating against my back.
Oh God I’m going to explode. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
He finishes his statement and they begin to wrap it up. Their faces distracting yet somehow turning me on more. As if they could see us.
They’re done. Oh no.
He hangs up and fucks me animalistically.
I lay there, cry, and scream. He cums inside me as he always does and then whispers with a sweet kiss, ”You can lay back down and sleep more if you want. Also, I’m sorry for cumming inside you. You were just so wet and tight. I- I just couldn’t help it.”
He says this every time except for the times that he is honest.
When he’s honest, he’s sadistic and tells me he is going to purposely get me pregnant so everyone else will know I am his forever.
But I’ll take the lie today.
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mentalmedusa · 2 days ago
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At war with my own body. Trying to scrub your heavy words off my skin.
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one-time-i-dreamt · a month ago
There was a new Scooby-doo series called “Scooby-doo Who Are You?” where Scooby didn’t exist and Shaggy was canonically trans and Velma and Daphne were in a toxic on-again-off-again relationship. The theme song was incomprehensible slide whistle music over stop motion animation for four minutes straight and it played three times in the span of one episode.
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caostalgia · 5 months ago
Todos alguna vez nos quedamos donde ya no éramos bienvenidos, pensando que todo mejoraría.
Alexander Alay.
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bennyblues · 4 months ago
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Jibaro (from Love, Death & Robots)
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wholeheartedsuggestions · 6 months ago
if they aren’t open to hearing you, you won’t be able to get through to them no matter what you say or how much you say. you don’t owe everyone an explanation for everything. it’s okay to just leave some people to their assumptions, because trying to convince someone set on not listening isn’t worth your energy.
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missmentelle · a year ago
What abusers believe.
If you've ever had to deal with an abusive person in your life - like an abusive parent or partner - you've probably wondered what made them treat you that way. If you understand why abuse is happening, the thinking goes, you might be able to figure out how to make it stop. 
So why do abusers do what they do? Do they have anger issues? Drinking problems? Past trauma? Personality disorders? Do they just need to get in touch with their feelings and learn how to communicate better?
Abusive behaviours come from abusive beliefs. Abusers - whether consciously or unconsciously - hold specific beliefs about relationships that drive their behaviour and allow them to justify the horrible things they do. Even if your abuser has never put their beliefs into words, you'll probably recognize a lot of these abusive beliefs:
You are responsible for my emotions. It is never my responsibility to reflect on my emotional reactions or learn better coping skills - it's your responsibility to stop doing things that make me angry or upset.
I must act on my emotions. If I am angry, I am going to lash out. You have no right to criticize me for that, and it's not my responsibility to learn to manage my  emotions - you have to stop making me lash out at you. Asking me not to act on my emotions is controlling and wrong.
You will always be responsible for my emotions. Even if the relationship ends, you will continue to be responsible for my emotions, and I will expect you to continue to prioritize my feelings.
If I have feelings about something, it's my business. If something you do or think causes an emotional reaction in me, then I have a right to get involved or tell you what to do. My feelings must be the priority. You don’t have the right to tell me that it’s none of my business. 
You must judge me on my intentions, not my actions. If I didn't mean to hurt you or scare you, then you don't have the right to be hurt or scared. No one has the right to try to hold me accountable unless I meant to hurt someone.
I get to decide what your intentions were. If you hurt me, you meant to hurt me. If you make me jealous, you meant to make me jealous. Nothing you do is ever accidental or unintended - everything you do is intentional and malicious, even if it was a response to something I did.
My feelings are genuine; your feelings are manipulation. If I'm upset, my feelings are real and important. If you are upset, you have an ulterior motive - you're just trying to be manipulative and get attention or sympathy for yourself.
You have freedoms because I allow you to. Every freedom you have in your life - like wearing what you want - it's because I generously allow it. I expect you to be grateful to me for that. I have the right to take those freedoms away whenever I want, and I expect you to obey.
If you set boundaries with me, you are mistreating me. If you really loved me, you wouldn't set boundaries with me. You are doing this to intentionally hurt me, which means I don't have to respect those boundaries.
You holding me accountable for hurting you is worse than me hurting you. My pain at being called out is worse than your pain at being mistreated. If I feel bad about something I did, I have already been punished enough. You trying to discuss the issue or hold me accountable is just your way of abusing me.
If I apologized for something, you have to forgive me. If the relationship has ended, you have to reconcile with me. You don't get to ask for more time apart or more discussion of the issue - once I've apologized, the matter is closed for good.
The relationship is not over until I say it is over. So long as I want a relationship with you, you must have a relationship with me. Your feelings are irrelevant. Even if we have broken up, you must remain available to me so we can get back together in the future. Not wanting a relationship with me means you are mistreating me or being immature. 
I am the authority in this relationship. I am smarter and more perceptive than you. I know what is best for both of us. My version of events is always the correct one. I have superior judgement, taste and opinions. If you question me or disagree with me after I've given you the correct answer, you are disrespecting and mistreating me, or you are simply immature and incapable of knowing what’s good for you.
I have the right to control you. It is my absolute right to decide what you do and who you associate with. You have no right to disobey me. I am owed obedience and control; if you don’t give me those things, you are wronging me and cheating me out of the relationship I deserve. 
If you resist my control, I am allowed to do whatever I think is necessary to get it back. Once you’ve resisted me, I am justified in whatever I do to regain control of you. I am not responsible for my actions when you resist my control; you forced me to do it, and it’s your own fault. 
I should be your main focus. Everything else in your life comes secondary to me. When you make decisions, my feelings should be your first consideration. You are expected to make sacrifices for me and put me at the center of your life; I am not obligated to do the same for you. 
If I spend money on you or do something for you, you are in debt to me. You spending money on me or doing things for me does not erase your debt to me, and I am never in debt to you. You are indebted to me for as long as I decide. I may decide that your belongings and earnings also belong to me, since I allow you to have them. I may also decide at any time that you owe me for gifts I gave you, even if they were meant to be gifts.
I am not abusive, and you are not allowed to tell me otherwise. I know what abuse is, and real abusers are significantly worse than me. If our relationship has ever had any good times or positive moments, it can’t possibly be abusive. If you accuse me of being abusive, you are the one abusing me, or you have been led astray by bad influences. 
Relationships should be effortless (for me). I am owed a relationship that is peaceful and requires no real effort from me. It is your job to make sure we have that kind of relationship. If there is any tension or conflict in the relationship, it is your fault, and you are depriving me of the relationship I deserve to have. 
Abusers and victims alike often buy into the narrative that abuse is rooted in anger issues - after all, abusers are frequently angry, and anger is an issue that can be treated. But this narrative just isn’t true. Abusers aren’t abusive because they are angry. Abusers are angry because they are abusive. 
A non-abusive partner is not someone who has learned how to control their rage whenever you spend time with your friends or get home 15 minutes late from work. A non-abusive partner just doesn’t feel any rage in those situations. An abuser’s rage is firmly rooted in their beliefs about relationships - they feel entitled to a relationship that meets their impossible expectations, and when they inevitably don’t get it, they bubble over with fury. Whether they know it or not, they have firmly entrenched beliefs about how relationships should be, and those beliefs are at the heart of their abuse. 
Can abusers stop believing these things? Maybe. If they can acknowledge that they have these beliefs, accept that these beliefs are dangerous and unreasonable and let go of these beliefs, maybe it’s possible for them to no longer be abusive in the future. Maybe. But it’s not your job to hang around and find out. If you’re in an abusive relationship of any kind, you deserve better. There are many people in this world who don’t hold abusive views of relationships, and you deserve to find happiness with them. 
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aleesabella · 5 months ago
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Arch Hades
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skywalkingthoughts · 7 months ago
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gayerthanevertbh · 5 months ago
the widow’s bunny - part 1.
author’s note | here it is! i hope you’ll enjoy the first chapter, i tried my best to make it look as interesting as possible. i would like to mention that if you don’t like this story and you might get triggered because of it, i kindly ask you not to read it. anyways, hope you enjoy!
summary | Your father, Clint Barton, brings his fellow Avengers at the safe house and it was your first time meeting the one and only Black Widow; Natasha Romanoff. As soon as you and her get a little close, her other side is vaguely showing and it truly frightens you. She quotes, “You will be my pretty little secret, yeah?”
pairings | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
warnings | voyeurism ; sexual thinking.
taglist | @ilovehotactresses @bepisbeansprouts​  @heidithriel​ @mommynat​ @myplaceofsolace​ @jediluka​ @d14n4ol​ 
spotify playlist.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 so on...
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this is my photo, please don’t steal. <3
“We should be heading to the safe house at any minute,” My partner, Clint, says with a slight smile plastered on his face while his hands are on the steering wheel. “I forgot to mention, there are kids inside. Thor, please be careful with your hammer, and Tony, don’t make fun of my kids or I’ll shoot you with one of my deadliest arrows. And for Natasha, you know my kids anyways.”
I smiled to myself and played with the crust of my glove wrapped around my hands safely, I replied: “I can’t wait to see them, Clint.”
“Oh! I forgot to mention that I have another daughter. I don’t think you’ve met her though, she went to boarding school at such a young age and you were in Budapest most of the time when she was born. I think you’ll be very fond of her, she has a witty personality and is extremely energetic.”
At my sudden movement, I lift my head and turn to Clint in disbelief. How can I not know his other child? I asked: “What’s her name?”
“Y/N. She’s 20 and just got back from London,” He replied and parked the truck near the safe house. He added quickly: “She’s the youngest in the family, the boys will be there. Cooper is excited to see you.”
“I’m still wondering why I’ve never heard of the youngest child,” I mumbled to myself and shook my head, giving him an instant smile. Of course, I was excited to meet his younger child who I never even met, but I was quite nervous too. I don’t know why for any particular reason, but I want to be excited to meet her.
“Don’t be disheartened,” He cooed and hops off the truck while the rest of the boys did. I stretched out my neck, felt a little strain from that 6 hour drive, and made our way to the front door. I hear Thor murmuring something like, “Very lovely farm home, Barton!” with his accent that I am impressed with. A sudden pat was against my shoulder and I quickly turned, noticing it was Tony doing it so.
“When was the last time we went here?”
“I think 5 years ago,” I replied with a low whisper and continued: “The house was still under construction, in your name of course. Clint obviously cannot afford all of this.”
“Then how did he afford to let his youngest go to a boarding school?”
I snickered at him with his sarcasm and gave him a little smirk, “Maybe she’s smart. Who knows, but I’m excited to meet her. I bet she looks just like Laura.”
Clint knocks on the red wooden door and waits for it to be opened until his wife Laura, comes out rushing out of the house and gives us a welcome smile that eases my nerves. She said, “I didn’t expect the whole team to be at our house, Clint.”
“We need to stay here for a while,” He says while looking at his wife pleadingly. “I’m sorry if it’s all the sudden–”
“Dad, you’re home!” His other son, Nathaniel – who is supposed to be ‘Natasha’ since we all thought it was a girl – comes up running to Clint and hugs him tight, giving the old man a wheeze. Connor comes to the picture and gives me a warm embrace, whispering: “Are you okay? You seem hurt.”
I didn’t even notice that I had slight bruising on my stomach and he probably saw me feeling weak and all that. I shook my head and smiled brightly at the boy: “Oh, I’ll be fine. I just need a little gauze and–”
My head turned in the other direction and saw this goddess that was standing a few feet away from me. My mouth gaped at how incredibly well made this creature was beneath my eyes – I almost fell back on the couch when I took a glimpse of the girl.
“Natasha, everyone,” He cleared his throat while making his way to the girl, wrapping his arms around her. I guessed that she was the daughter of Clint Barton. “This is Y/N. She just got back from boarding school.”
“It’s very nice to meet the Avengers,” She says cooly while smiling at us that sort of felt small. “Especially you, the infamous Black Widow.”
Infamous, they say. I thought to myself and walked towards the girl, shaking her hand with gentleness; making sure not to scare her away. I looked at her eyes and I’m not lying when I tell you that she has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen from a woman. Maria can never compare.
“I’m glad to meet Clint’s youngest baby,” I chuckle to myself and watch everyone who laughed with me. “I don’t bite sweetheart, you can come to me anytime.”
“That’s nice to hear,” she replies meekly and lets go of my hand. Shame. “I’ve seen you on television and all…you’re pretty great.”
Not to be a narcissist or anything, but I love how she compliments me in a way that weakens my knees apart. I almost tumbled down the way she even held my wrist, it was so intoxicating. I replied: “You’re way too sweet.”
“I wasn’t lying either so—”
“I made roast chicken with Alfredo pasta!” Lauren yells in the kitchen room, making me grumble under my breath. How dare she interrupt my conversation with her? Y/N smiled at me for one last time before she took off to the kitchen, kissing her mother on the cheek.
Something inside me ignited, like hunger and greediness. It’s unusual, in fact, quite excruciating to think about it. Y/N was a whole starstruck for me, it’s like love at first sight. Although I do know the circumstances if I do become her suitor, Clint might even kill me for having an interest in his daughter. I could be her mother, frankly. I don’t want to think that way, I’m not a mother to her.
Most certainly not.
My fucked up mind.
When dinner occurred, I was disheartened when I had to sit with Steve and not with Y/N. I’d like to get to know more about the girl and know her interests, maybe even touch her skin a little. Just, a little. To see how delicate the girl is. All I had to do now was to carefully stare at her, not wanting her to catch me and call me a freak.
“So, are you like a mini Agent?” Tony joked while munching on his food aggressively, making the whole table laugh. I didn’t though, I just smiled.
Y/N chuckled and replied softly with her light tone: “You can say that. Though I’m taking Russian classes, I like the idea of becoming a language interpreter.”
“That would be good for our missions,” Steve says and drank a glass of water, quickly adding: “We go all over the place. Natasha and our other fellow Avenger, Wanda, know how to speak Russian and Sokovian. Maybe Nat can teach you?”
Thank god for Steve.
“I’d like that,” Her voice is so addicting; I could get lost in it for hours. She finally looks at me and smiles, adding: “Unless you don’t mind, Ms. Romanoff.”
“Natasha would be fine, Y/N,” I say calmly while taking a bite of my salmon on the plate. “And I don’t think that’s a problem at all, I’d love to teach you.”
Clint, who seems to be pleased, butted in and says: “I hope you two get along, Y/N can be very talkative sometimes–”
“Dad! Not cool,” Y/N murmured with embarrassment and I found it very adorable to watch. Smiling down, I thought about little scenarios with her. Like, staring down at her chest and seeing how much it heaves from my touch. Oh, how much I desperately want to hold her hand – I might get too excited by it. Then, getting out of my daze, I realize what I got myself into. I have a little crush on a 20-year-old who possibly thinks of me as a mother figure. It cringes at me to even think about it.
After that long dinner that I wasn’t mentally there, Lauren showed us our rooms to stay in. I, stay in a bedroom by myself. Clint is obviously staying with his wife. The other men, well, I don’t know where they are sleeping – I couldn’t care less – But they were sleeping downstairs possibly. It was a full moon tonight and I made myself a cup of tea before I went to bed. Then, I grab my leathered journal that I keep all my secrets in. My desires. Opening it, I touch the paper softly to have the feeling of comfort. Usually, I do that before I write; for no particular reason. Maybe comfort, again.
Sipping from the cup, I quickly doodled down my thoughts on the paper. I wrote about how we’re all staying at the safe house approximately for two weeks, saw the boys, and probably wrote a long paragraph about Y/N.
I shall call her bunny.
My bunny.
Writing the word Bunny down made my skin shiver with enthusiasm or anticipation. Anticipation is the right word to describe how my skin prickles. These desires that I have are madly dangerous and if I was Y/N I’d stay away right now. Maybe this is all just a phase, just a simple crush. Although I do quite know that it could be more than that, my desperate longing for the girl could be more than just a silly crush.
While writing in my journal, I hear a soft knock on my door and it opens with a creaking sound. Turning, I saw the girl that I thought about just a few seconds ago. My heart beats like a clap of thunder.
“Sorry, I just wanted to give you these,” She walks inside slowly and reaches out a towel that was in her hands. I gladly took them but my eyes traveled down to her camisole top, seeing her bare chest. I bit my bottom lip with hunger. Her voice snapped out of my gaze, and I quickly lifted my eyes to stare at hers.
“Are you comfortable here? I’m sorry if it’s a mess,” She apologized, although I don’t know what for.
“No, I like it. Don’t worry about it Y/N,” I said flirtatiously, but not in an obvious way, I don’t want her to be crept out yet. She offered me another kind smile that made me go mad and went back to the door, opening it carefully. She turns to me again and whispers: “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I smiled at her and she left.
I will find my way for you to be mine, I promise.
Meeting Natasha Romanoff was like a kid’s dream to go to Disneyland. That’s how you felt when she smiled at you in such a graceful way and offered a hand. She was like an inspiration to you, you saw her as this hero who saved half of the universe and wondered why you never met her though. Until you realized that you went to boarding school at such a young age.
It was already sunrise when you woke up from your sleep, noticing how warm it was. How is it so hot? You grumbled coherently and stood up from the mattress. Suddenly, you felt your body ache and saw yourself in the mirror. You looked like you came out of the jungle.
What a reckless night, You thought to yourself and brushed your teeth, did your skincare, and walked out of your room to prepare breakfast for the Avengers. Your mom told you that you didn’t need to help around the kitchen, but you forwardly assisted – of course. And, you have special skills when you are cooking; nothing to brag about.
To your utmost surprise, Natasha was up bright and early, and already had a cup of coffee on their hands. She finds your eyes and smiles tiredly at you. Quickly, you whispered: “Good morning, how was your sleep?”
“It was alright, I didn’t sleep much.”
Oh god, did I snore?
“Did I disturb you? I’m so sorry, I’m such a heavy sleeper,” You apologized quickly and cringed at yourself. But, Natasha wasn’t upset or anything. In fact, she was smiling at you. You felt relieved for some reason because of her solemn look.
“No, you didn’t,” She responded while sipping from her cup. “I’m assuming you had a good rest.”
“Oh, not really,” You say quickly and sit across from the older woman who seems to be invested in you. So, you continued: “My body feels very warm and achy but it’s very chilly at this hour, I don’t know why. Do I look sick?”
“No, you don’t look sick Y/N. Maybe hormones?” She chuckled and looked at you with her dark green eyes. Her eyes are very interesting. “I don’t know, I don’t feel very cold right now either. So, you’re not alone.”
So, it’s just not you. But, it was still weird. Anyway, you shrugged it off and asked the woman what she wanted to have for breakfast. Natasha replied: “I’ll have a toast with avocado if it’s available.”
“Of course we have avocados,” You say while tiptoeing yourself to get a bag of loafed bread that was inside the cupboards. Taking it out, you see Natasha suddenly at your side – may be trying to help you out since she’s a little taller than you. That was a nice gesture.
It wasn't until when her hands were suddenly on your waist that you were about to slip off. You were shocked and it made you snap your attention towards the woman who looked at you with deceitfulness. But, you don’t want to overthink it. She was just being nice to you. She was, right?
“Careful, detka,” She whispered in my ear and led me back to the table, smiling at me innocently. “You should watch where you are going next time.”
Don’t overthink it, she was just helping you. Don’t overthink it.
“Yeah,” You replied with confusion and quickly put the food down on the table, your mind still somewhere else. You felt her hand on your back, patting it softly, then walked away from your presence. It was weird, good weird. Bad weird. You don’t really know at this point.
Her scent, her delicate skin, god it makes me crazy.
I let her scent sink into me for as long as I can hold it, knowing that it could be gone at any moment. I love it when she’s close to me when I’m inches away from her exposed neck that I could possibly bite it with eagerness. The animalistic woman, who is inside me, is seeping through. But, I can’t let that happen right now, I must be careful not to frighten Bunny.
While fixing my bed, Clint comes inside of my room while leaning against the wall; his arms crossed on his chest confidently. I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
“What?” I asked while throwing the pillow back on the bed.
“Are you getting along with my daughter? Is she annoying?”
God no, she isn’t. In fact, she’s addicting. I inwardly smile to myself in a deviant way. I quickly replied to him: “No, Clint. Me and Y/N are getting along quite well. She’s a great cook, by the way.”
“She is! She made us steak last week and it’s delicious,” He says and sits on the bed that I just fixed. Now he’s ruining the sheets. “Do you want to get to know her more? I’m sorry that I never talked to you about her, you were busy from time to time and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You could never, Clint. She is funny and energetic, you didn’t lie there. I would love the idea of getting to know her more.”
“Well, Y/N is very educated – like you. But, she tends to be idealistic and naive. I do think it’s part of her growing up, you know what I mean?” I nodded at his statement and let him continue on.
“She’s also a good tennis player, for some reason… and a food critic. Y/N can tell what the ingredients are just on a donut or a soup. Oh, she’s talkative and optimistic. As a father, I wish I could’ve gotten to know her more. She was away with us for so long, well except for the holidays. She would be with us.”
I love that Y/N is a naive person. That means, she can never tell if I’m sometimes showing off my desperate side towards her. I can easily manipulate her into something dangerous and she wouldn’t even have to say anything about it. It’s just been over a day, and I badly want her.
“She sounds like a good kid,” I said with a hint of a smile and sat beside him. “I want her and I to get close someday, she could be a big part of my life.”
“For sure, Romanoff. I think she’ll love you as a sister.”
God, I hate that term. I am definitely, most certainly not, a sister to Y/N. I’ll be her lover one day, I’ll be the only woman she’ll ever think and scream about. It makes my body fire with excitement as I think about my hands running up and down on her naked waist, my head buried on her neck as I suck on that skin; giving her a purplish red hickey. I want to see her beg for my touch and my lips, I want to hear her scream my name. God, I want it all so fucking bad.
I finally snapped out of my daze and noticed that I was undeniably wet. Sighing, I asked Clint to leave and he complied.
A few hours later, I decided to finally take a bath. But, the problem was, the bathroom inside of my room was not working. Sighing to myself, I walked out and went to an unoccupied bathroom until I saw a door creaked slightly open. Out of curiosity, I take a peek and see the girl who I just thought inappropriately with. I bit my bottom lip with anticipation as I watched the water trail down endlessly on her baby skin, the way her hands moved up to her breast as she squeezes it softly – how much I wanted those hands to be mine instead.
I felt like a perverted creep but at this point, no one else was in the hallway. So, I took my time watching Bunny as she soaps herself. My core starts to get wet from the sight of her stretching out her neck as she lets the water falls down onto it, I closed my eyes and cursed to myself. This was wrong, it was wrong in so many ways. But I can’t help it. My hand starts to slip down under my shorts and underwear and I feel my own cunt – carefully not letting out a guttural moan. Bunny was so perfect in every way possible, she was captivating to watch. I know that I should’ve taken things slowly but god, she looked absolutely beautiful naked. Her ass looked delicious, too. I just want to squeeze them harshly and bite them; not to the point she would bleed.
Unless she wants to bleed.
As soon as she turned the faucet off, I immediately walked away from the scene and closed the door behind me. My chest was heaving with arousal, everything was beating so fast. My desire for Bunny was getting more intense and I wish I could stop it, but I can’t. I find myself in this reality where I can have her. But, in this reality, it will be hard.
I’ll make it easier then.
My bunny, my detka. My kotenok. My everything. The fire to my heart. I will capture you one day and own you as my pet and my lover, I’ll marry you. I will let you see the real world, I will take you away from this madness. You will be mine, just wait.
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firerubyjam · 8 months ago
Stop writing to people first and you will see how many dead plants you were watering
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darknymphostuff2 · 2 days ago
This past week, I showed my boyfriend a picture of my sister’s boobs to see if he thought they were nice. He got hard but didn’t give a direct answer. He did fuck me extremely hard after.
Of course they’re bigger than mine.
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raenprabhaker · 2 months ago
milf (mother i'd like to forget)
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eclipsedbluemoon · 4 months ago
You know what's exhausting? Always having to empathise with your mother. Even when you don't want to. Because you think it's your fault that she is feeling the way she is, that you should be the one fixing whatever is wrong in her life even when you warned her before she went ahead and screwed it up for herself, having to hear that she feels guilty for all that she puts me through but not actually doing anything to change it, but still thinking I've too many expectations from her cause she has been through so much. I always wonder if I shouldn't be the understanding one and that I should get to throw a temper tantrum and not have it be invalidated by her but I always go back to feeling evil for thinking that my problems are even remotely as hard as hers. I promise myself and her that I will help her through whatever steps she takes in the future as difficult as it may get but when she takes steps back again, I lose hope and the energy to support her the next time she begins or even actually goes through with it . After all this, I still feel guilty expecting so much from her and say that it will take time for her to get past mental blocks and her trauma and that I should be ready to take every step with her whenever she is ready. It always, always goes from being furious to making excuses for her actions and her decisions and I realise how much I keep hurting myself and blaming myself for things I don't even do.
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family-trauma · 3 months ago
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Lately I've been getting angry at the people who manipulate and emotionally abuse me. I kept wondering who is this person? I'm never usually angry, so it was a very foreign concept for me to accept. However I now realize that it's okay to be angry, as it's an emotion caused by my surroundings.
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queerism1969 · a month ago
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dark-romantics · 5 months ago
I often see people talk about red flags in relationships but no one really talks about the red flags in friendships. Let’s put an end to that shit too.
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