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#but then he shut down again like he always does
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Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.
(Steve would do the same for her).
Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.
64 and going down. Not a good sign.
Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”
Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.
“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”
His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.
“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”
Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.
“This tastes like shit, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”
The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.
Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.
57 after he pricked. Thank god.
It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.
He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.
“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.
“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”
Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.
Chrissy would love her.
He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.
“How’s my blizzard?”
He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.
The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”
Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.
“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”
“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”
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yuujispinkhair · 22 hours
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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 05
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
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You spend the Sunday in bed, trying to watch a TV show to shut up your mind, which keeps coming up with all too vivid images of what Sukuna and you did in the locker room. But you can't focus on the show. Instead, your gaze wanders distractedly through your room and brushes over the white, too-large hoodie that is draped over the backrest of your chair. Sukuna's hoodie. And you are mentally back where you started: In the locker room on Sukuna's lap.
You groan and bury your face in your hands. You will have to go to your classes again tomorrow, which means there is a high chance you will bump into a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player. But you have no idea how to act around Sukuna after this! Hopefully, you won't run into him, at least for a few days!
But of course, it doesn't work like that. You haven't even started your first class of the week before you see Sukuna again. He is leaning against one of the vending machines in the hallway that leads to your creative writing class, talking to one of his teammates while looking gorgeous as always, with his pink hair slicked back, tight black jeans that accentuate his muscular thighs, and a white team hoodie, just like the one that is waiting for you in your room.
You duck behind a large plant, groaning inwardly at how insane you must look to everyone around you. But you simply cannot face Sukuna right now! Just one look at him brings back the memories of those firm muscles under your fingers and how those large, calloused hands trailed all over your skin, and how good that thick cock felt inside you.
You make a strangled noise as you try to determine whether Sukuna already saw you or whether you can still turn around and run the other way. You are about to give in to the second option. But it's already too late.
"Hey, princess!"
You draw in a sharp breath as you clutch your books to your chest and slowly turn around again. Sukuna is casually strolling over to you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans, his typical arrogant smirk on his handsome, tattooed face.
You exhale slowly, lifting your head and straightening your shoulders, trying to will your embarrassment away as Sukuna stops in front of you.
Act cool, act cool, act cool!
"Hey, Ice Prince."
Sukuna's eyes sparkle in amusement, and he laughs that sexy low laugh and runs a tattooed hand through his pink hair as he cocks his head,
"Prince? I'd rather think I am the Ice King. But of course, I can be anything you want, princess."
Suddenly, he is so close to you again, towering over you, tall and big, and your back bumps against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing wildly as you look at Sukuna. At his lips precisely. Lips that lift in that sexy, rude smirk. Lips that you know feel so hot and soft against yours when they kiss you. Your breath hitches. And Sukuna laughs softly.
He leans down, his sexy cologne filling your nose, and his warm breath is on your neck when he whispers in your ear,
"Do I make you nervous?"
You grit your teeth and bring a hand up to push weakly against his broad chest, not really trying to push him away (not that you could move him an inch anyway), but in a helpless attempt to cover up your embarrassment. Why does he have to be like this? Why isn't he nervous, too? You shake your head, eyes burning into Sukuna's,
"No, of course not!"
But Sukuna huffs, leaning even closer, his voice full of smug amusement,
"Liar."
He smirks at you, his maroon eyes filled with a far too knowing look, when he adds in a teasing voice,
"Why do you act so flustered then? Like a scared little bunny. Is it maybe because you can't stop thinking about what we did in the locker room? How you bounced on my cock and how my cum was dripping down your hand and..."
You make a squeaking sound and reach up to press your hand over Sukuna's mouth to shut him up. And he laughs. You feel his lips move against your palm, feel his smirk, and then something warm and wet.
You jump, and your gaze snaps to Sukuna's eyes. He is staring right at you, a teasing, amused spark in his eyes while he is licking your palm.
There's another slow, teasing flick of his tongue, and much to your horror, it sends bolts of electricity and desire through you, making you press your thighs together involuntarily. But at least you finally come to your senses and quickly pull your hand away, wiping it on your jeans while you roll your eyes at Sukuna.
"Stop it!"
Sukuna grins broadly at you, his tattooed face still full of mischief, but at least he lowers his voice when he says,
"It's fine, princess. I enjoyed our little locker room fuck, too."
You restrain yourself from pressing your hand on his mouth again, and Sukuna adds smoothly,
"How about we make this a regular thing? It doesn't have to be exclusive to the locker room. We could also use a bed next time, or a shower, or anywhere else you like. You and I get along, and the sex is good, so why not have some fun together? It doesn't have to be a big deal. What do you say?"
You stare at him, your pulse racing and your head spinning at his offer, unable to form a response.
Sukuna smirks and touches your shoulder, letting his large hand trail down your arm until he reaches the pocket of your cardigan, where your phone is sitting. Sukuna pulls it out and holds it out to you,
"Unlock it."
You do as he says as if on autopilot and watch as Sukuna types in his number before handing the phone back to you. He takes a step away from you, slinging his backpack casually over one broad shoulder, and jerks his chin at you,
"Think about my offer, princess, and hit me up if you crave a little fun in your life."
He winks at you before he turns around and strolls away, leaving you standing there leaning bonelessly against the wall with your heart beating up to your throat and your mind whirling.
Did Sukuna just offer me a fuck-buddies arrangement?
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This new development turns you into a distracted mess for the rest of the day. You get into trouble with your grumpy professor once again when you fail to reply to her question because your mind is too occupied thinking about Sukuna and what to do about this whole arrangement he is offering you.
You drop your books and forget your jacket and curse yourself for being such a flustered idiot just because some hot hockey boy blessed you with the best dick of your life and is asking for a repeat!
Get a grip!
But even when you are back in your dorm, you can't stop obsessing over this whole situation with Sukuna. You keep playing with your phone, unlocking it to stare at the new contact.
Sukuna 🏒👑
Your lips twitch when you see the hockey stick and crown emoji next to his name.
Your fingers hover over the message icon several times, but you always lock your screen again before you can write anything.
You throw your phone onto your bed with a heavy sigh. You are too flustered and too shy to text Sukuna and agree to whatever it is he is offering. But at the same time, there's this excited tingle in your veins that screams at you to text him and just enjoy that star player dick.
Isn't this the kind of exciting thing you dreamed about happening to you when coming to this college? And now you get it presented to you on a silver platter, but you are too chicken to take it?
You groan and bury your burning face in your hands. Maybe you can make a decision tomorrow. You need some time to think, or rather overthink.
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You manage to avoid Sukuna the whole next day during classes, feeling like a complete fool with the way you sneak through the hallways, always checking if you see his pink hair somewhere. Your lunchtime is spent in your classic literature classroom, munching on some sandwich you hastily prepared this morning. Hiding away like a coward.
You feel relieved when your last class of the day is over. Now you just have to head to the library to get some research material for a new assignment, and then you can go back to the safety of your dorm, where you can lock yourself in your room and obsess in peace over a phone contact with a hockey stick and a crown.
You roll your eyes at yourself, and the librarian tells you to stop giving her such mean looks. Your eyes widen, and you hastily apologize, fleeing towards the section she told you the book you are looking for is.
The old floorboards creak beneath your feet, the smell of old books fills your nostrils, and you feel at least part of the familiar comfort the library always offers you. You scan the bookshelves, looking for the number the librarian gave you. And sigh in annoyance when you finally spot the title you were looking for.
Of course, it has to be on one of the higher shelves, and you can't see a ladder anywhere! You get on your tiptoes, bracing yourself on the shelf with one hand while you try to reach the book you want. You curse softly when your fingertips barely manage to graze the wooden shelf on which the book is standing.
And suddenly a familiar smug, low voice speaks up behind you,
"Need help, princess?"
You whip your head around, looking over your shoulder at the very person you have been avoiding all day. He has that typical, lazy smirk on his tattooed face, and there's an amused glint in his maroon eyes.
"Sukuna?"
You blink at him in surprise, and Sukuna's grin grows broader.
He steps closer, closing the distance between you so his body presses lightly against your back, making your heart race like crazy. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to run from him anymore with the way you are trapped between the bookshelf and Sukuna's tall, muscular body. You gulp hard, pulse fluttering at the feeling of Sukuna pressed against you and the enticing smell of his cologne and the cigarette smoke on his clothes filling your nose.
Sukuna reaches above your head, effortlessly plucking the book from the shelf.
He doesn't pull away immediately but stays right there, pressed lightly against you, his buff body caging you in while his warm breath brushes over your earlobe. His velvety voice has dropped to a low, seductive murmur that makes goosebumps appear on your arms,
"I haven't seen you all day. Where were you hiding, princess?"
You huff, trying to sound casual, but you cringe inwardly when you hear how breathy your voice comes out,
"What do you mean? I wasn't hiding."
Sukuna finally steps away, and you let out a breath and turn around to look at him. He is holding the book you need in his large hand, and you reach for it, but you see a shit-eating grin spread over Sukuna's face, and even as you reach out, you know it means trouble.
And, of course, right before you can grab the book, Sukuna lifts his arm above his head, letting your book dangle from his long tattooed fingers out of reach for you.
"Uh uh, not so fast."
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest,
"What are you doing? Give me the book!"
Sukuna laughs softly, smirking at you in that rude and sexy way that infuriates you and turns you on at the same time. He shakes his head and drawls in a low, amused voice,
"I'll give you your book if you promise to see me tonight. My dorm, 8 p.m. We can just talk if you want. Or we can do more than that. It's your choice, princess."
Heat throbs between your thighs as your mind provides you with an image of the two of you on Sukuna's bed, naked bodies moving rhythmically against each other. Your hands trailing over Sukuna's smooth tattooed skin, your fingers feeling up his buff muscles... You draw in a sharp breath and look up at him with big eyes and a face that feels way too hot.
"I..."
Sukuna laughs softly, his cat-like eyes gazing deeply into yours, completely shameless, far too arrogant, but damn, it drives you crazy in a very good way. One corner of his lips lifts in that sexy smirk, and he cocks his head,
"Is that a yes?"
It's not fair how charming and sexy he looks and how he is tempting you with a good time. The kind of good time you really want. The thought of meeting him again, knowing what it will lead to, still makes you flustered and feel like some shy little virgin, but you really like what he is offering you. And so you nod and mutter a soft,
"Y.. yes."
And Sukuna looks so pleased.
"Hmm, smart girl."
He leans down, his grin downright devilish now, and his breath brushes over your neck, making your skin tingle everywhere. And it gets even worse when Sukuna's tongue darts out and licks a slow, wet trail up your neck while you feel his rude smirk against your skin.
You screech and push at his broad chest,
"Hey! Don't drool on me!"
But you can't hide how playful and amused your voice sounds. You shake your head and laugh breathlessly as you look up at Sukuna's grinning face and he laughs and pulls away. He lowers his hand, holding the book out for you to take.
You quickly snatch it from his tattooed fingers. But Sukuna is fast. It must be his hockey-player-reflexes. He manages to grab your hand before you can pull away, holding onto it while his maroon eyes gaze deeply into yours.
"8 p.m. at my dorm. Don't keep me waiting, princess."
He doesn't wait for an answer but lets go of you, leaving you standing in the middle of the library with wobbly knees and wide eyes.
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You are a nervous, excited, giggly mess when you make your way over campus and to Sukuna's dorm.
You feel embarrassed and exposed when you slip through the front door of the large dorm building, thinking that everyone who sees you must know exactly what you are up to. As if you are holding a blinking red sign that reads, "I am going to have sex with your star player."
But at the same time, your veins are singing with excitement. You feel almost high. You are meeting a super hot hockey player/the resident bad boy to get into a fuckbuddy arrangement with him or something like that! It's the kind of crazy thing you would have never thought you would ever get to experience.
You, who were always too scared, too anxious, too careful to experience anything exciting. But somehow, Sukuna made that whole cardhouse tumble down so easily, and suddenly, you feel so light, with your pulse racing and your whole body buzzing.
Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest when you reach the Itadori twins' apartment. You need a moment before you finally make up the courage to lift your hand and knock on the door. The seconds tick away, and your breath comes out in nervous, quick huffs as you wait for Sukuna to let you in.
Finally, the door swings open, and Sukuna stands in the doorway in low-hanging grey sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and that damn boyish smirk on his handsome face.
"Hey, my lucky charm."
He waves you inside, and you slip off your shoes and follow Sukuna into the apartment. It's bigger than the one you and Nobara share, which is probably a bonus the beloved hockey players get. The living area and open kitchen look clean but a bit chaotic, with hockey equipment, weights, and other gym stuff strewn everywhere. A red hoodie is hanging over the backrest of the couch, and various video games and manga are scattered all over the couch table next to several empty protein shake containers.
"Ignore the mess. I just came back from practice and didn't have time to clean. It's not my mess, by the way. My brother can't keep a clean room."
You smile to yourself, thinking that it's kind of cute that big bad hockey star Sukuna apologizes for how his living room looks. But before you can tease him about it, Sukuna already pushes open the door to his bedroom and ushers you inside.
It's surprisingly neat compared to the mess in the shared living area. The first thing you see is Sukuna's bed, which is actually made and suits him really well with the all-black bedding. On the left side of the room is a window and a desk with neatly stacked books. Above it is a shelf with trophies and next to that, a big pinboard with some hockey tactics written in Sukuna's elegant handwriting and a few pictures of Yuuji and Sukuna and an old man with a face shape that looks very similar to Sukuna's and Yuuji's, so you assume it must be their grandpa.
You look curiously around the rest of the room. A flag with the team crest is hanging on the wall behind the bed, and on the right side of the room, you can see a half-opened closet. The clothes you can spot in it are all black, with the exception of some white and red, which you assume must be Tigers merch.
A stack of cigarette packages and some energy drinks sit on a shelf next to a whole array of hair products (cherry flavored, like you already assumed), as well as several big bottles of cologne and a smaller bottle of black nail polish. You smile to yourself.
Vain idiot.
"So, did you think about my offer? About our little arrangement? You okay with it, princess?"
Sukuna's low voice interrupts your nosiness, and you whip around to look at him, feeling flustered again. You shrug and tug nervously on your fingers,
"What does it include exactly?"
Sukuna laughs and shrugs,
"Anything you want. We just have fun."
He has taken a step closer to you, and his low voice is smooth and velvety like a caress. You feel nervous, intimidated, and overwhelmed by the way your mind screams at you: You had sex with him! He was inside you. And you know you want it again. You are in his room. You just have to reach out and touch him!
A shaky laugh comes out of your mouth, but you nod and smile nervously at Sukuna,
"Okay, sounds good."
You gulp hard and lick your lips. They feel too dry suddenly as you look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, too aware of how small the room seems all of a sudden, and how good he smells, and how tall and strong he is. You add shyly,
"So... um, how do we go about this?"
You gesture helplessly at the bed and at Sukuna, suddenly ready to just run from his room and hide away forever. But Sukuna laughs softly and cocks his head, his face softer than usual, as if he feels bad for you.
He puts a hand on your waist.
"No need to be so nervous, princess. It's easy. Just come here, and I assure you, you will know what to do. It worked really fine the last time, don't you agree? Our chemistry is good."
He is right.
The moment Sukuna wraps an arm around you and pulls you against him, it's really easy.
Your hands automatically wrap around his neck, and you get on your tiptoes, pressing your body against Sukuna's, sighing when you feel his warm, firm body against yours. Your lips crash into his, kissing him hard as if to make up for your shyness a moment ago. And Sukuna kisses you back, his tongue licking hungrily into your mouth, both of you instantly overcome with the same craving you felt in the locker room.
Sukuna's large, warm hands are on your hips, steering you to his bed, while your lips trail from his mouth down his jaw, kissing his sexy tattoos before they close around his Adam's apple and suck on it, smiling when you hear the soft growl coming from Sukuna.
You tumble onto Sukuna's bed, and everything feels completely natural. As if you have never done anything other than make out with Sukuna. It's as easy as breathing.
Your hands slip so naturally under Sukuna's t-shirt and explore his abs and pecs before you tug on the soft cotton shirt, and Sukuna helps you pull it off.
It's the most natural thing ever to lift your arms above your head when Sukuna tells you to do so, letting him undress you too, pulling off your shirt, and then opening your bra expertly with one hand. He lets your bra drop to the floor before he replaces it with his large tattooed hands, cupping your tits and brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples while his lips find yours in a sloppy, wet, open-mouthed tongue kiss.
From that moment on, the only thing you know are passionate, wet kisses and wandering hands, tearing at each other's clothes until you are both naked and writhing against each other on Sukuna's bed. You don't have to think. You just have to feel. And it's really as easy as he said. No shame, no worries, just pleasure.
Soon you are on all fours, your ass up, your face pressed into Sukuna's pillow, which smells so intoxicatingly like him. And you mewl loudly into that pillow because Sukuna dicks you down so good that you feel like you will melt.
He is kneeling behind you, one foot placed on the mattress, his large, strong hands on your hips as he takes you from behind, fucking you hard and fast and so deep. Dominant, in control, and knowing exactly how to fuck you right.
His strong hands hold your hips tightly, pulling you closer again anytime you try to get away when you think the pleasure becomes too much. But Sukuna won't have it and just holds you in place while his sexy, low voice tells you,
"Stay here, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. Just be my good girl and let go. You can be as messy and loud in my bed as you want."
His words drag a loud, desperate cry from your lips as Sukuna's hips hump against your ass and your swollen pussy, fucking his thick cock deep into you, hitting your sweet spot in a maddeningly delicious rhythm.
You feel tears run down your cheeks from how good you are getting fucked, and you do as Sukuna says. You relax and let him take full control.
You are a babbling, sobbing mess, but it's just like Sukuna said, you know, here with him, you don't have to be embarrassed or shy. You eagerly lift your ass, pushing back against Sukuna's body, taking his thick cock deeper, begging him for more, whining loudly anytime his thick mushroom head hits your sweet spot.
And Sukuna laughs and moans, and it's so sexy that it makes your pussy clench around his gorgeous, talented cock, making him groan that sexy breathless "fuuuck" that drives you absolutely wild.
The way Sukuna fucks you with those deep, hard strokes makes you almost delirious. His gorgeous cock is giving you such a fluttery feeling in your stomach and in your pussy, growing more blissful every moment.
You let out a high-pitched squeal when you cum, muffling the noise by pressing your face deeper into Sukuna's pillow. And Sukuna fucks you through it, groaning in that sexy low voice,
"Fuck yeah, princess. Cum on my fucking cock!"
Your breath hitches, and you scream and kick your legs, cumming so hard and intense that you think you will lose your mind.
And Sukuna groans and grabs your wrists with his large rough hands, keeping them in place as he pushes you down on the bed with his heavy body, mounting you, fucking you into the mattress. He snaps his hips faster, fucking his twitching cock into you at a maddening pace that makes the headboard of the bed bang loudly against the wall.
You whimper needily at the feeling of Sukuna's heavy weight on top of you and the switch of position it brings with it. The earlier doggy turned into a deep, intense prone bone that makes Sukuna's cock push even deeper into your sensitive pussy.
One of Sukuna's large hands grabs your chin roughly, turning your head to the side so he can give you nasty deep tongue kisses while he fucks you with those deep, intense strokes that grow harder and become more erratic as he nears his orgasm.
You mewl under him when you hear him growl and feel him push his cock deep inside you. And then Sukuna stills his movements, cumming inside you, fucking his cum into the condom he put on this time.
His hand around your wrists squeezes them tightly. His breath is loud and harsh, and a low, sexy moan falls from his lips only centimeters from your lips before Sukuna kisses you again.
A breathless laugh escapes his lips, and you feel his smirk against your mouth as Sukuna starts to move again, slow, shallow thrusts, fucking his whole orgasm into you while you mewl softly beneath him and squeeze your pussy around him.
With a last, teasing flick of his tongue, Sukuna pulls away.
He rolls off you and lets his heavy body fall onto the mattress next to you, a broad, satisfied grin on his tattooed face and a low laugh falling from his lips.
One of his large hands lands on your naked ass giving it a squeeze, and then his tattooed fingers trail slowly up and down your thigh, caressing it as if you are a beloved pet he is pleased with.
You still feel dazed when Sukuna gets up after a moment, shamelessly walking around his room completely naked, throwing the condom into the trash bin before he bends down to pick up his black boxer briefs from his bedroom floor.
He pulls them up lazily with one tattooed hand as he walks over to his desk, making you lick your lips as you watch his gorgeous muscles flex while he moves. He grabs his cigarettes and a lighter from his desk and opens the window next to it, leaning casually against the window frame as he lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips, inhaling the smoke with a soft little hum.
Sukuna turns his head, looking at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and a lazy smirk.
"See, I told you it's easy."
And you laugh and roll on your side, pulling Sukuna's blanket over your naked body, feeling exhilarated and a bit dreamy after such amazing sex.
"Yeah, you were right."
Sukuna smirks, getting that smug expression on his tattooed face again.
"I know. I am always right."
He turns his face to blow his cigarette smoke out the window while you groan in playful annoyance.
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You walk out of Sukuna's bedroom fifteen minutes later, after you both got dressed again, and Sukuna showed you the various medals and trophies on the small shelf above his desk and explained what he got them for. It felt less awkward than after your locker room fuck, though it still makes you a bit shy to just talk to him like you are friends after he was balls-deep in you and you cried into his pillow from how good he fucked you.
Sukuna is close behind you, bumping into you when you stop short as your gaze lands on Yuuji.
Sukuna's twin is lounging on the couch in the shared living area, his feet resting on the couch table while he watches TV. Yuuji turns his head to greet you and smiles his big sunshine smile at you, honey eyes wandering from you to his brother and back again.
And you smile back awkwardly, feeling your face get hot again,
"Hey, Yuuji."
How long has he been here? Did he hear you? Does he know what you did in Sukuna's room?
You quickly flee towards the door, but before you can leave, Yuuji laughs happily and says,
"So Kuna found you! He was complaining the whole day because he hadn't seen you. I'm glad you came over!"
You blink and look back over your shoulder just in time to see a protein bar getting thrown at Yuuji's head while Sukuna yells at his brother to shut the fuck up.
And you quickly slip out the door, grinning from ear to ear as you hear the twins bickering. Your steps feel incredibly light as you jog down the staircase, snickering to yourself the whole way to the front door.
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I FELT THE FLUTTERY FEELING IN MY STOMACH AND MY PUSSY TOO 😭😭💗💗
Here we are in a fuckbuddies arrangement with our sexy hockey boy ;) Also, big applause to Yuuji for exposing his dear brother. I know you are obsessed with us, Kuna. It's ok, baby 😘
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!
In Chapter 6, Reader and Sukuna have some more fun with each other + also some bonding moments.
Thank you so much for all the love on this story!! It makes me so happy 💗💗
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tragedy-of-commons · 2 days
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"You're burning up" + Aventurine?
"You're burning up."
Aventurine doesn't know what else to say, so he goes with those three words. Safe bet - the doting parents in all the movies and sitcoms say it just like that; with care and worry, palm splayed out across the ill's forehead.
And holy hell are you ill.
Collapsed on his lavish sofa, you groan in response, swatting his hand away. "I'm gonna be just fine..."
He's inclined to disagree. You're sweating buckets despite how he'd mashed the thermostat down to its limit - he even had to shrug on a jacket. Perhaps Aventurine would have poked fun at you for your intolerance, but he has enough decorum to hold his tongue. He really doesn't like seeing you so put out, as much as you're welcome to crash here.
"Your poker face could use some work. Save your words, we can hang out another time," he dismisses easily, bracing himself for your incoming opposition. He reluctantly breaks away from your side to amble over to the coffee table, beginning to clean up the remnants of game night.
"No way," in the corner of his eye, he notices you shifting restlessly, "finals are coming up. Won't have time after this..."
Aventurine sighs, sweeping his very nice clay chips into one hand while using the other to click open their case. This time of year, things become almost unbearably hectic. He has exams coming up in a few weeks himself, and though he never needs to study, he always adheres to your modus operandi of 'cram now, cry later'.
"Well, you're not going back to those dorms in that state."
"You sound like a dickhead," you murmur. "You think I wanna live there? Shitty thin walls... shitty dining hall food..."
He chuckles, snapping the case shut and dusting his hands of nonexistent dust. "You're cruder than usual when you're feverish."
Aventurine almost startles when you gasp. "I have a fever?!"
...and you're loopy, too.
He gets you to sit still with the promise of retrieving a fever reducer and some water. Aventurine roots through his bathroom cabinets, combing through his own extensive collection of self-care and skin products to reach where he keeps his medication.
It takes several minutes of crouching down on the tile for him to realize he doesn't have any. He clicks his tongue - well, it seems his own lifestyle has backfired on him once again. Aventurine doesn't get sick often, doesn't spend a lot of time at home, and has enough stubborn resilience to power through any ailment that might plague him.
But for you? The only reason he spends any time at all in this stupidly expensive penthouse?
Yeah, he'll make a quick trip to the drugstore.
When he walks back into the living room with his shoes on and wallet in his pocket, his heart warms. You've somehow slipped into an upside down position, hair spilling over the edge of the cushions. You somehow make it look comfortable, eyes closed and brow free of any creases.
"Does that help your sinuses?" he asks, really only to test if you're awake.
"You smell good..."
Aventurine ignores how those words make him feel, eyeing the door (and where your shoes are lined up neatly against the wall).
"I have to restock on Tylenol," he swallows. "Will you be okay by yourself?"
"Yes," you respond coherently this time.
Before he departs, he cajoles you into another position in case you throw up like that and end up choking - not without some strangely endearing complaints that you'd normally never voice, positive thing you are.
He doesn't get to the inside mat before you pipe up again, making him stop in his tracks.
"C'mere," you cough. "Please, humor a dying star's last wish..."
He really should be going so he can get your temperature down quicker, but leaving you on the sofa while you're about to cough up a lung strikes him as cruel. Aventurine gives into your dramatics - which happen to perfectly align with his own at times - and makes his way over to you.
"What is it? Did I forget something?" he sits down on the armrest, perching there with perfect balance. When you don't respond immediately, an odd little expression on your face, he rests his chin on his fist, pensive.
You hum.
He doesn't expect much; a request for another pillow, a plea for him to turn on a movie for you while he's out. Instead, he's caught off-guard as you throw an arm around his waist and pull, effectively whisking him off the high ground and right into your grasp.
Aventurine initially tenses but settles as you nuzzle closer. You're the only person in the world that can get away with loving him so easily.
"M'sorry I got sick on game night..." you whisper, uncaring that you're spreading your sickness (and your homely oxytocin).
He finds himself not caring much either.
"Do you believe me to be that hung up on you catching a cold?"
Aventurine's heart rabbits cruelly - he's sure you can hear it, with the way you're snuggled against him and whatnot, but maybe he'll get lucky like he always has, and you'll remain oblivious and perfect and unbothered, despite what you do to him.
You sniffle, words thick with exhaustion. "I dunno. Just stay."
He can't. Not just because he has to go pick up that Tylenol, but because he feels like he might die if you keep saying things like that.
"Five minutes," he acquiesces.
Aventurine waits for your celebration of victory, but no such thing comes. You're fast asleep, clinging to him like he's worth something.
He stays for a lot longer than five minutes, only wriggling out of your arms when he's sure you won't wake up to find him gone. When he returns later with his spoils (which also just so happen to include your favorite drink), you're cradling a pillow in his place.
Before Aventurine is your boyfriend or lover, he is a liar.
He is most definitely, unequivocally, one hundred percent hung up on you.
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🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren
a/n: modern au because i couldn't possibly resist. just wanted to mention here that u guys absolutely killed it with these quotes. you have my gratitude! also why is he like that. soggy wet cat
event post here
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annwrites · 3 days
Text
trick or treat one-shot collection.
— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x twin!reader
— type: modern!au | (part of a collection)
— summary: scared from the horror movies you watched with jace, you go to his room to sleep w/ him & he shows you something neat he picked up at the local pharmacy.
— word count: 727
— tags: twincest, p in v sex, cowgirl position, mating press, cock-warming, cuddling
— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea
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It’s a little past midnight when you finally force yourself out of bed and march yourself across the hall to Jace’s room.
You don’t bother knocking before simply barging in, softly shutting the door behind you.
You climb into bed next to him and throw his comforter over yourself before cuddling into his side.
“Guess the scary movies did the trick,” he mummers.
You huff in irritation. “You’re so annoying.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead before lying on his back, tucking you impossibly closer to his side.
“Now that we’re both awake, do you want to see what I picked up yesterday at the pharmacy?”
You peek an eye open in the dark in curiosity. “I don’t know, do I?”
You can practically hear him grin.
He turns away from you and you hear the handle to his bedside table jingle. The drawer slides open, then quickly shuts again before something crinkles in his hand.
He tears something open and then a green, glowing circle greets your vision.
You snort and giggle quietly. “Really? Glow-in-the-dark condoms?”
He turns his head toward you. “If you don’t like it, you could always make it disappear.”
The two of you start to laugh then.
He slides an arm around you. “We can just sleep, if you want. Or watch TV. And not a horror movie, I promise.”
You sit up then and pull down the covers before hooking your fingers beneath the waistband of Jace’s boxers.
He lifts his hips, and you tug them down his legs before dropping them to the side of the bed.
You take him in your hand and begin to stroke his flaccid length. It doesn’t take long for an erection to form, and once it does, you roll the condom down his shaft.
You smile broadly at the sight of his glowing penis.
“This is so silly,” you whisper.
He slides a hand up your back. “I thought…maybe you’d like it.”
You lean over him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I do.”
You pull your camisole off before wiggling out of your panties next, tossing them onto the floor.
You straddle Jace’s lap and he takes himself in-hand and rubs his glowing tip against your entrance.
“Are you already wet?” He asks quietly.
You smile slightly, even if he can’t see it. In truth, while lying awake in there, you’d been half thinking about the scary movies the two of you watched together, and half thinking about what the two of you might do if you came in here to spend the night with him.
You reply by easing down the length of him with a sigh.
He grips your hips and smirks.
You rise back up a few inches and rest your hands on his chest.
“Now you see it,” you say before easing back down again. “Now you don’t.”
He chuckles. “Neat magic trick.”
You set a steady rhythm as you rock your hips against Jace’s and your eyes flutter closed while you throw your head back.
Jace sits up, and he places a flat palm against your back as he leans over you.
You lie back, and Jace throws your legs over his shoulders before setting a punishing, yet still pleasant pace between your legs.
His bed squeaks quietly as he rocks his hips against yours and your heated skin slaps together in the dark.
You clench tightly around him and moan his name.
He presses his lips to yours, and eases his tongue into your mouth, flicking it against your own.
His cock twitches at the sound of you squelching against him.
He lowers his lips next to your ear while sliding his fingers into your hair. “I love you.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I love you, too.”
Jace lowers your legs then and he slips out of you for a moment as he lies back against the pillows at the head of the bed.
“Lie down next to me.”
You do so and he presses his chest to your back while twining an arm around your middle. His other hand guides his cock back inside of you and he kisses your hair.
“Just go to sleep,” he whispers.
You smile warmly, taking his other hand in yours, twining your fingers together, and you fall asleep with your twin inside of you.
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hencheri · 14 hours
Text
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader
warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.
wc: 1.2k
.
you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.
he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.
you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.
you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.
"hyuck?"
he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. his has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.
"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."
"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.
he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?
"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.
a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."
you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.
you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.
he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.
"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."
your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."
"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.
you frown, hurt by his action.
"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."
he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.
"please," you beg a bit desperately.
"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.
"what- no, that's not-"
"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."
you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?
"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."
he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."
"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.
"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."
haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.
"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.
"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?
"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.
he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.
"what? no way, how can you think that!?"
he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.
"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"
you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.
he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.
"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."
you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.
you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.
his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.
"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.
his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.
"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."
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qqueenofhades · 3 days
Note
I may very well be getting too far ahead of myself here, but reading your last two (back to back, hot diggity damn, queen!) essays got me thinking about the future. In the beautiful possible future where we keep up the fight, elect Kamala, and keep Trump out of office for another 4 years, do you think there's a real possibility we'll be seeing the same election (Kamala vs Trump) in 2028?
I hear the arguments against the possibility - he's old and unhealthy so he'll probably die (not counting in it), the Republicans cannot be stupid enough to try again (they can), his fragile ego will be too broken to try again (his ego disconnected from reality long, long ago), he'll be in jail (unlikely with this Supreme Court, and hilariously we have no laws preventing someone in jail from running), but even the sum total of them doesn't seem like enough to count him out.
Mind you, if he does run against Kamala in 2028, I feel like the odds would be on our side? I'm just. So. Tired of this guy. I'll keep fighting till the day I die, but it'd be nice if we could actually see this dude go down and take on the next one.
We honestly have a good shot to shut ourselves of Trump forever at this election, because of the simple fact that he is in rapid dementia decline and I honestly don't think he'll be remotely sane in another 4 years. Not that he's sane now, but at age 82 after another four years of associated legal troubles and/or penalties complete with his rapidly unraveling mental state... I just don't think it will be possible even for the withered husk of the GOP to trot him out again, and I say that as someone who always unfortunately knew he would be the nominee again in 2024 despite some overly optimistic prognostications to the contrary by others. As I've said before, this is the last-chance saloon for Trump in any number of ways, and that is part of the reason he is so desperate now.
We can't count on the legal system to rid us of Trump before the election, but the delayed sentencing in his NY felony trial is coming a couple weeks afterwards, the Jan 6th trial has restarted, and the 11th Circuit is fairly likely to reinstate the Mar-a-Lago classified documents case. Trump running for president is a convenient grift to pay his legal bills, and if he gets crushed in November, even the most faithful MAGA diehard are going to find it hard to keep coughing up for his various fundraising appeals. I mean sure, he'll get something, because some of the cult members will be in it to the bitter end, but overall, he will be fucked. On many, many levels.
This is the delightful vision that is fueling me and frankly should fuel all of us, so yes. Vote. Remove stubborn orange stains, once and possibly fucking finally for all. Please.
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warlocksoup · 21 hours
Text
into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu
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volume one, chapter one: emails
word count: 2.1k
masterlist | main masterlist | taglist
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I know about him.
Teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she stares down at her laptop screen. At the same email she’s been staring at for the last three days, ever since she first got the notification for it on her subway ride home. From [email protected]: I know about him. To anyone else, it might not bear the same weight. To her, it’s suffocating.
She’s done everything she can to try and trace it. Everything she can, of course, being Googling the address and enlisting the help of Yachi from the IT department at the Bugle. The outcome of the former being: Your search - [email protected] did not match any documents, and the outcome of the latter being Yachi’s entire laptop getting infected with malware.
So, not great.
She shifts on the stiff stuffing of her couch, legs crossed under her and the heat from the bottom of her laptop on the bare skin of her thighs. I know about him. She hopes it’s a bluff. Realistically, she knows it’s not. But she’s still in the denial stage.
The screen goes dark, and she wiggles her mousepad to brighten it up once more, just so she can stare longer. She can’t tell him. Not yet. Ideally, not ever. But definitely not yet.
“What are you doing?”
She jolts, automatically slamming her laptop shut as she does so and jumping to face the source of the intrusion.
Spider-Man’s in her living room.
Which is fair. It’s his living room too, even if she does pay the lion’s share of the rent.
“Porn,” is her immediate response and the only thing she can think of to justify her reaction, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “Watching porn,” she doubles down, because she has to.
He reaches behind his head and grabs the end of his mask that sits at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one swift movement. Nishinoya looks at her with his hair flattened against his forehead, blond streak brushing against his brow, and a blossoming, deep purple purse spread across his cheek. “In the living room? Well, I guess I am home early, so can’t complain there.”
She pushes her the laptop off to the couch, and stalks towards him, eyes now fixed on the bruise that stains his features. “And what the fuck happened to you?”
Noya grins at her, bright and unfazed. Almost proud, like his injuries are a badge of honor. “Just ran into my good friend Alexei Sytsevich. He was super stoked to see me.”
Her hand shoots out and takes hold of his jaw, lightly squishing the soft flesh of his cheek together as she tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the damage. Noya just stands there and lets her. “Thought that guy was in jail.”
“Broke out,” Noya says, words barely making it out between his smooshed-up lips. She releases him, and steps back. “He loves breaking out of jail. It’s like his favorite thing to do.”
Noya steps back, and retreats into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he does so. Still, she can hear his voice coming through their thin, plaster walls. “I don’t even know what that guy’s end game is anymore. I’m pretty sure he just wants me dead. It’s always like, ‘this is your end, Spider!’ when before he was a lot more focused on his personal goals, so.” 
She sighs and collapses back onto the couch again. Freak emails from freak strangers with untraceable email addresses and Sytsevich breaking out of jail for the thousandth-fucking-time to wreck his havoc on Noya’s face. Her hair is going to start turning gray. “You’d think they would’ve built a cell to hold him, by now,” she calls, and Noya is swinging open his bedroom door to saunter back out into living room, suit abandoned in favor of old gym shorts and a vintage looking Godilla t-shirt. “What do you think costs more taxpayer dollars, building a better cell, or paying all those cops to get him back in again?”
Noya rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m the one they call, and they don’t pay me, so.”
That she knows all too well. It’s hard, being a single-income home. Since Noya’s full time job is both incredibly demanding and also unpaid, rent and utilities and groceries mostly fall on her shoulders. Which, it’s not like she can complain or hold it against him. In exchange, he’s the one and only Spider-Man, and she could do worse for roommates.
And he helps when he can, selling candid photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle so they can use them to accompany their hit pieces on him (Noya, of course, finds it incredibly ironic every time they write out a check to him, gleefully paying him for photos of himself).
Noya flicks on the kitchen light, and as he’s lingering in the kitchen, popping open the fridge door with his hip to stare blankly at its contents, she grabs at her laptop once more, opening it back up so she can stare at the email once more. “Do you wanna get a pizza tonight? Some guy gave me a twenty for saving his car from the Rhino’s path.”
“Twenty?” she echoes back, fingers hovering over the reply button. Should she reply? What would she even say? Her Internet safety training at work taught her to never reply to spam emails, just to report it to the system administrator. But looping in the Bugle on an email like this is the last thing she wants. “Seems kinda cheap for saving his entire car.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Noya calls back, closing the fridge. He flicks his wrist in the direction of the living room, and string of white web following it. It attaches itself to the side of a crinkled up, plastic water bottle she was drinking, and before she can blink, the water bottle finds itself in Noya’s hand.
“Dick,” she says, without looking up from her computer. “I was drinking that.”
“Can you look at your porn later? Do you want the pizza or not?”
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
Between them is a half-eaten box of pepperoni pizza, propped open on the fire escape. Noya chews loudly on a slice, his eyes on the city skyline, and hers on him. She watches the bruise on his cheek, and how it moves and shifts with each bite he takes. She reaches out and grazes her thumb against it. He swats her hand away. “Stop it, stop worrying.”
She frowns and slides her hand between her pressed-together knees, like she’s trying to hold it still. “Who the fuck said I’m worried?”
“You’re always worried,” he replies, dusting off the end of his pizza nad leaning up against the closed window behind him. “Every time I come home with so much as a papercut, you’re staring at me like there’s a bullet hole in my chest.”
Her eyes drops, and she looks at the greased-stained cardboard between them. “Well, you have come home with bullet holes before, so.”
He sleeps them off. He wraps up the wound in that fucking webbing of his and he just sleeps it off like it’s a headache or scratch or something most people wouldn’t even go to the doctor for. And then she’ll find dried, rusted bits of that webbing, littered around the house.
“Yeah, and I turned out fine,” he assures her, voice a bit softer now. She looks at him, brown eyes shining and slight grin unwavering. “A bruise isn’t gonna kill me. I don’t want you to waste your energy freaking out over me. You have better things to be freaking out over. I know how horrible your boss is.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t really give a shit about him, to be honest.”
Her fingers fidget, and Noya reaches over, covering both of her hands with his. She looks up at him. “I’ll always take care of us both. Okay? Nothing can happen to me while I’m out there, because I know I gotta come back home and make sure you’re good. That’s my number one priority, and I’m not gonna break that promise. Alright?”
She nods her head. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”
His grin brightens, and he leans forward to throw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “See, that’s my girl. Complete and total faith in me. I love to see it.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles, but rests her head against his shoulder. It feels nice, in his arms. “I’m really the one who takes care of you, y’know. By like, paying the bills.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow ten bucks? I bet Tanaka-“
He stops and straightens out. She peers up at him, at watches as his focus narrows in on something in the distance. By the time she catches up, and she can hear the sirens start to go off in the distance, Nishinoya is gone, leaving a slight breeze against the strands of her hair.
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
On her desk are two rejections.
The first is on Spider-Man, a feature piece that details his symbolic value to the people of New York; how valuable his presence in the community is and just what he represents to the average New Yorker. It theorizes that identity of Spider-Man isn’t what matters, but the meaning of the mask itself. And it has a big, yellow sticky note on it with the word ‘WRONG!’ written out angrily in thick, black marker.
She sighs. She knew that one wasn’t gonna make it past Jameson. Hardly any of her Spider-Man pieces do. Noya told her to just start writing smear pieces on him, just to get more articles published. But she’s not willing to sacrifice her journalistic integrity to write a bunch of bullshit about how her best friend is ‘getting in the way of the NYPD.’
The second is on the recently passed Norman Osborn. Most obituaries have been fluffy love letters to the capitalist, and maybe Jameson was expecting more of that, rather than a scathing dissection of his life, including, but not limited to, his involvement in developing and selling weapons of war. The sticky note on this one reads, ‘what is this commie crap?’ which, in all honesty, she should’ve been expecting.
She sighs and falls back into her chair. She needs a new, better job. At a place that will publish her articles without twisting her words into nonsense propaganda. A place that will pay her properly, and not like it’s nineteen-eighty-five.
There’s only one silver lining to her job, and that’s the blonde-haired girl depositing a hot latte and everything bagel on her desk. “Rejected again?” Yachi asks, pulling up a chair from the empty desk beside her.
“Ugh, apparently billionaire, tax-evading war criminal Norman Osborn was a friend to the masses that needs to be celebrated, and the guy that says innocent lives every day for free is public enemy number one,” she rants at once, snatching that coffee up and immediately gulping it down, ignoring how it burns her tongue on the way down.
“Yeah,” Yachi agrees. “You didn’t know that?”
She rolls her eyes, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. “Shut up.”
Yachi leans back in her chair, and gestures towards the computer screen. “Any more emails from that anonymous guy?”
“No, and thank god for that.”
“It’s so weird,” Yachi notes. “’I know about him,’ is weird, but they’re not threatening you for like, money or information or like any other average email scam. And from what I could see that guy really did not want to be tracked down, and spent a lot of time making sure you couldn’t. And for what? To say something weird.”
Yachi doesn’t know the weight of it. Doesn’t even begin to understand the threat, the implication. Yachi doesn’t even know how the ‘him’ is supposed to be. So she really doesn’t get how disconcerting those facts are. She contemplates, for a moment, slamming her head into the keyboard in front of her.
“Whatever,” she decides ultimately. “I’m just going to ignore it and hopefully absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s how I deal with most of my problems.”
“Oh, what a coincidence, me too,” Yachi laughs, and then stands. “I gotta go. Jameson accidentally downloaded malware onto his computer trying to claim a Target gift card. Have fun rewriting your articles.”
“See you for lunch?” she calls after Yachi’s retreating form.
“Yep!” Yachi confirms with a wave of her hand, disappearing down the line of small, cramped cubicles.
With one, deep, calming breath, she returns her attention to the desktop in front of her. She stretches her neck to the left, and then to the right, and prepares for another day of endless bullshit.
Ding!
YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE.
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taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus @greninjafan5000 @mplesyrup
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Text
Hey hello but what if hobo Phoenix is dating Miles during the 7yg? What if Miles really really tries to be as respectful of his partner’s sense of autonomy and pride as possible?
[further brainstorming of a scene under the cut]
What if he takes Phoenix and Trucy out somewhere- to a festival, maybe, somewhere they could enjoy? What if Phoenix is overly critical of everything? What if he’s sour and bitchy because he feels unworthy of the price of his ticket, because he’s had a hard week, because he and Miles usually like to shit talk together?
What if Miles was really looking forward to this? What if Phoenix’s comments grate on him the whole night? What if Miles suggests Phoenix look at/try something, and is immediately shut down?
What if Miles finally breaks, calls Trucy over, and gently tells her that he will be going for a walk?
What if Phoenix gets angry, because now Miles is leaving again?
What if Miles— in hushed tones to protect innocent ears— demands Phoenix let go of his wrist because “We are not doing this in public. I am NOT doing this in a public setting—” and he leaves to save his composure?
What if Trucy knows, and tells her father, that he’s hurt Miles’ feelings?
What if Phoenix is surprised Miles does finally come back? What if they have to confront that Phoenix can’t always expect Miles to be able to take his barbed comments? What if- as much as Miles tries- he admits that he can’t always put up with Phoenix’s moods?
What if they love each other enough to not run, to not cling to unrealistic expectations, to understand that they are human?
What if Trucy has never seen that before?
What if Miles hasn’t since his father passed?
What if Phoenix has to learn how to express his negative emotions constructively, instead of pretending he’s invincible until it all overflows and drowns him and his loved ones?
Yeah… wow..
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drewsarms · 2 days
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introducing ━━⊱⋆⊰━━ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི dolly!reader ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི
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Rafe’s sweetest girl/glam doll!
Pretends be naive. Lacks common sense but is super super book smart. Loves helping anyone or anything that needs it. Loves, loves, loves, loves animals! “Daddy can we have a pet deer?! or a snake or a lamb or cow or bunny or lion or or or-”
Always dressed to the nines!!! (Rafe is the biggest hater she knows and always tells her to go upstairs and find something else because it’s “too short”). Makeup is always on point and beat for the gods. Always has her hair done. Always smells sooo good. Like cotton candy and flowers.
She’s always around Rafe. Always up under him. If you see Rafe you see her (unless he has “business” to attend to). Rafe does literally everything for her. He feeds her. Takes her to the bathroom. Ties her shoes. Puts her heels on for her and carries them when her feet hurt. “I told you not to wear those doll.” Pays for anything and everything she lays her eyes on. & he puts it down so so sooo good
The most spoiled brat you’ve ever encountered. The world revolves around her. “Look. The world isn’t going to stop spinning just because I told you no, alright?” “So….you don’t love me?” Bratty. But she’s the biggest sweetheart. Always, always, always gets what she wants!
The absolute BIGGEST crybaby. If something doesn’t go her way you best believe she’s throwing a fit (slamming doors, ripping clothes, kicking walls, calling Rafe all kinds of names, etc.). Needs rafe for everything. Literally everything. “Daddy! daddy! daaaaaadddyyyyy!!!”
Gets on Rafe’s last nerves. “I’m sick of these little um figures and shit all around my house.” (calico critters. but he doesn’t bother to learn the name because he hates them). “I give you an allowance every week and this is what you spend it on??? Let me guess, all your money is gone, huh?” ——— she will talk his ear off until he either tells her to shut the fuck up (which leads to arguing & the best sex) or he tapes her mouth shut.
Very disobedient towards Rafe and all the stupid rules he makes up for her (not because she doesn’t love him but because she loves when he puts her in her place. she can be a good girl but it’s no fun when Rafe isn’t grabbing her by the neck and slapping her across the face) but is quick to sputter out apologies when rafe is digging her out or giving her a good spanking (she’s not sorry and she’ll do it again just to make Rafe angry!)
Did I mention she’s always horny??!
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charlie-thewitch · 16 hours
Text
Chapter II
"What are you talking about" Shen Jiu hissed. He does not have the time nor the willingness to entertain this clearly delusional man more than he already has. Honestly, he probably shouldn't have freed his mouth if this is what's coming out of it.
"Gege I know it's been like 20 years or something but you couldn't have forgoten about me, could you? This breaks Didi's poor heart" Said the other, batting his eyelashes like a little mistress asking daddy for a new dress and it's making him sick. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.
"You don't even know my name and this one doesn't have any siblings, so shut up. I'll fucking leave you here if you say another stupid thing" Shen Jiu walks to the corpse of the fat man with a grimace. He would prefert to not do this but the prospect of ruining a nobles day by liberating "the merchandise" is too sweet to pass after all.
Taking the sleeve with just two fingers, Shen Jiu brings it up enough to search inside. Dropping on the ground the knickknacks the man inexplicably had inside. Well, the money he keeps. Shizun is too cheap with her disciples and inns are disgusting while brothels are expensive. He'll need a good night's sleep after this and his prey will be founding it.
"We didn't actually had names" With the keys in hand Shen Jiu walks to the largest cage he can see and passes his founding to the frightened woman inside. Only when she understands what to do and gets to work opening all the cages on sight does he turn around to the nuisance still tied and sitting on the dirty ground. "What?"
"When we lived with mother; we didn't have names. That man-" He said it with so much venom Shen Jiu could for a single moment believe they were siblings after all. "-never let her name us. He was planning on selling us from before we were even born so she 'shouldn't get attached'. She fought him, naturally, but Mother only could do so much... He took you first, I was too sick to be sold just yet"
Shen Jiu is marginally grateful the other slaves ran as soon as they were freed from the cages because he doesn't need reports of what he'll do to this bastard to reach Shizun. A murder outside of the permitted by the mission will look so bad on his already muddy reputation. "Good story, you should write a book" He deadpans.
"It's the truth!" The guy pouts, as if that helps his case at all and doesn't just make him look crazier. "Gege could easily prove we are related with a talisman, couldn't you? I know fancy cultivators have that type of tools just lying around!"
"You want me to believe you remember bullcrap from when 'we' were, what, 4 years old?" Shen Jiu said mockingly
"Gege isn't even denying he was a slave like me" A curious head tilt and Shen Jiu suddenly feels like he's missing something, again. He hates that feeling. "He knows deep down that this Didi is saying something important." That knowing look is pissing him off, but he can't deny felling the littlest bit curious. The guy stole his face, that's undeniable. And a sibling relationship could very well explain it.
But is he ready for the implications? Is he ready to have a family, a fucked up one he is sure, but, family?
Qi-ge Yue Qi used to call them brothers but that didn't stop him at the moment of betraying him for a better life. Is this guy actually interested in Shen Jiu or is this his ploy to be freed? He already saw Shen Jiu give the keys to the others, surely there's no need for him to still be talking to Shen Jiu at all?
Shen Jiu could always just make the test and drop this guy on the streets if it came out negative and... And if it's positive that'll mean there's someone in this world who is his.
There's no way to change one's blood. He knows that very well. His blood may very well be running in this guys veins. An undeniable bond to someone, something unbreakable. This could mean he has a brother, maybe even a mother that... Loved him.
A mother. One that loved this wretched creature. Proff that he didn't came out wrong, twisted.
Is Shen Jiu being too naive? The simple promise of a past loved one has him doubting the most basic instinct of caring for no one but himself. Hope is an ugly thing he thought dead and buried years ago under charred wood and ash.
Shen Jiu returned his gaze to the young man, serious and grave. He can't believe he is doing something so stupid but one thing is true in all street children: If you can take something, do it. And never give anything back. "You will follow me and not say a single word to anyone. Understood? I will have to ask someone back at the sect for a blood testing tool" This guy wants to be his brother? Fine. Let him cope with his horrible personality. Shen Jiu is never diminishing himself for the comfort of others. Never again.
A sly smile is his answer, and he can't quite help the feeling he just got played. "This Didi will do as Gege says..."
Prev - Next (soon)
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laughroditee · 15 hours
Note
Queen behavior
Characters: little Simon Riley (age 6), his dad, his mom, Tommy (age 4) CW: domestic abuse, verbal abuse, yelling, fearful children, crying, anxiety, alcoholism and/or drug abuse Word Count: 554
Lay down and sleep with all the ghosts again, again, again, again
“One, two, three, four….” Simon counted inside his head, looking for a distraction – anything to keep him from hearing the voices that drifted through the tiny crack under his bedroom door.
It was late, and his father must have come home the way he does some nights where he acts meaner than usual and smells bad, sometimes going as far as to pass out on the couch or fall up the stairs. Simon didn't understand it, but it made his mother uneasy, and anything that scared her scared him.
A shout leaked into the room like gas, filling the space with its dread, and Simon squeezed his eyes shut against the apparition it conjured. He wished for once that he could sleep as soundly as Tommy could; maybe something about sleeping in the top bunk made you fearless.
At least, that's what he would have thought had his little brother not suddenly jumped into bed with him, diving beneath the covers and wedging himself between Simon and the wall. 
Footsteps on the stairs brought his parents' voices closer, and his mother sounded panicked. Simon covered Tommy with his blanket as if that shredded square of yellow fabric could shield him from their father.
“They're just children! I won't have–” 
The slap echoed so loudly that Simon could feel it in his teeth, and he stiffened in bed, holding his breath.
“Did I fuckin' ask you what you will or won't have, you slag? Think you're the bloody queen or something? You ain't nothin’ but a cunt, so don't you act all high and mighty with me!”
Simon counted the blows his father inflicted upon his mother, the hellish compulsion to keep counting — to seek distraction and order — undeniable.
His mother's pain-filled cries reverberated in the hallway right outside of their bedroom door, and at last, he heard a clunk against the wood. It seemed she dragged herself forward and took her station on the floor against his door, stubbornly keeping their father out despite the beating.
After some time, his father scoffed, then spit. “You ain't worth my time. Useless fucking woman,” he muttered. The stomping gait of his father retreated angrily down the stairs, the walls rattling when the front door slammed behind him. 
For about ten seconds, the Rileys held their collective breath, the ensuing silence filled by their mother’s quiet sobs.
”Mummy?” Tommy’s quavering voice called out, his head emerging from under the blanket.
A sniffle. “Tommy?”
Simon could tell his mother was hurt by the way she grunted as she pulled herself up to stand, and the way she leaned heavily on the other side of the door, but what was just as telling was the long pause before she opened it.
Mrs. Riley came in with a smile, a calm mask to present to her children despite the bruises and her shining eyes. She strode to their bedside, blinking rapidly as she sat on the edge of the mattress, taking her boys into her arms and kissing them.
Tommy burst into tears, their mother’s hand carding through his fair hair as she cooed soothing words at them both.
“Mum?” Simon asked.
“Yes, love?”
“You'll always be a queen to me, Mum,” said Simon quietly, and he listened as his mother crumpled into sobs, bearing the grief of them all.
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the-iceni-bitch · 22 hours
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All My Girls With Their Lace and Their Crimes
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Relationship: Pete Brenner (pookie) x stripper!fem!reader (candy) Poison Paradise AU
Words: ~2.1k
Summary: Pete done fucked up… again.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, begging, body worship), reader is the biggest brat on the planet, Pete is pussy whipped, adultery, allusion to crime, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: Poison Paradise has a new couple! Fucked up in a whole new kind of way. She’s a brat, he’s a lech, it’s all filthy fun.
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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“Wait… baby!” Pete practically whined when you shoved him out of the dressing room and into the alley, trying not to look too abashed when Lucas and Chris were right there taking a smoke break. “Gentlemen… shit!”
“Take your stupid fucking flowers!” You were screeching at him, but that wasn’t anything new. “Get the fuck out! I can’t fucking believe you actually came here!”
He winced when you started beating him with the bouquet he had shown up with, sighing to himself as he just stood there and took your abuse while the other men gave him a pair of bemused expressions. This was far from the worst they had seen, you tended to get worked up pretty often. Especially when he flaked out on plans he had made with you.
“Candy, it’s not like I knew my in-laws were coming to town!” He spluttered when he got a face full of chrysanthemums. “Sweetheart, I said I was sorry!”
“Go back to your wife!” You threw the ruins of the bouquet to the ground and stamped your feet, growling at him before turning on your heel and storming back into the club. “I have to go dance. I don’t want to see you again, you fucking asshole!”
“She’ll come around,” Pete did his best to look unperturbed as he brushed the copious flower petals from his suit, accepting the cigarette Lucas offered him and bending to let him light it. “She always comes around.”
“She sure does, buddy,” Chris clapped him on the back, chuckling softly around his own cigarette when Pete leaned back against the wall looking exhausted and defeated.
Sure, it usually took a hell of a lot of groveling, but you did come around. Mostly. It’s not like he tried to piss you off on purpose. But his wife would have him by the fucking balls if they got a divorce, or if she thought he was cheating. He had to do his best to appease the bitch. The frigid, uptight, snooty bitch. Damn he hated her.
Pete considered going in to watch you dance, but then he remembered the last time he did that when you had just thrown a tantrum. There was still a scar on his thigh from where you tried to stab him with your heel. So he just decided to slink to the bar and nurse his wounds. Nothing like a good half a bottle of bourbon to drown the way pissing you off made him feel like a kicked puppy. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go home to his wife. He needed you.
After four hours and perhaps a little bit more than half a bottle of bourbon he needed you even more. Like, damn he needed you bad. He was pouting like a little bitch when he hailed down a cab, groaning and mumbling about how much he wanted your pussy under his breath while they drove to the apartment he paid for. When he remembered it was a walk up he cursed, slipping into the door when someone else came out so he didn’t have to buzz you and sighing before starting to climb the stairs to your place. By the time he got there he felt even more needy, leaning against your door and pounding on it with a prayer that you were home.
“Candy!” His voice was so loud, but when he saw the light under your door come on he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Candy, open the door! C’mon baby, please!” Someone screamed at him to shut the fuck up and he screamed back, determined to get you to let him in because he was aching. “Candy! Candy, let me in, sweetheart! Lemme see my girl! Candy!”
“Fuck, Pete!” You looked so beautiful when you opened the door. And mad. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Baby,” he huffed at you shoving him away when he tried to kiss you, playing with the hem of your nightie for just a moment until you slapped his hand away. “Baby, don’t be like that. I missed you…”
“Yeah, you fucking missed me,” you snorted and turned away from him, knowing that he was going to follow you without having to look back. “You missed me, you’re sorry. That’s not gonna stop you from ditching me to play house with your cunt wife. We were supposed to have a whole weekend.”
“I know,” Pete caught up to you and managed to kiss your bare shoulder before you pulled away from him. “I wanted to treat you like you deserve. Show you off on my arm like the gorgeous thing you are. I feel so bad, babygirl. Lemme make it up to you…”
“Make it up to me,” you rolled your eyes and turned to face him, sitting down on the foot of your bed and watching him closely when he stopped in your bedroom doorway. “Well? Get to it.”
Pete dropped to his knees immediately, whimpering as he crawled to you on all fours and tried not to lose it when you uncrossed and recrossed your legs so he got just a peek of your bare pussy. His mouth was full of saliva as he gazed at you with pure devotion, the desperation he was feeling blatantly obvious. As soon as he reached you he bent lower to kiss along the arch of your foot, his eyes fixed on your face as you continued to stare at him disdainfully. There was the barest flicker of approval from you when he licked each of your toes and he seized on that, cupping your heel in his hand and sucking your big toe into his mouth with a low groan to try to coax you towards a more magnanimous mood.
You tutted at him when he started to kiss his way up your calf, nudging his shoulder with your other foot until he gripped it gently and ran his tongue along your arch nice and slow. A soft sigh escaped from your lips when he bit the pad of your big toe gently, giving him his cue to start mouthing at your calf with a moan.
“Mm, I’m so sorry,” Pete sucked against the inside of your knee and melted when you rewarded him with a whine. “Missed my Candy so much. Hated being away from you and your precious little pussy.”
“Pookie…” you gasped when he nibbled up your inner thigh until his face was buried in the crease of your hip. “You promise you’ll take me to Atlantic City next weekend?”
“I’ll take you for a whole week, Candy baby,” he kissed every inch of your mound before burying his face in your cleft and inhaling deeply. “Buy my babygirl that tennis bracelet you’ve been wanting for so long.”
“Thank you, pookie,” you ran your hand through his hair when he flung your legs over his shoulders. “Lick my pussy now.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice, a groan escaping from him when he swiped his tongue over your slit. Tasting you was the sweetest thing in the damn world, he could never get enough of it. He kissed every inch of your puffy lips before licking you again, slower this time, the heavy drag of his tongue making your eyes flutter and his chest swell with pride at pleasing you. Pete took a moment to savor the flavor of your delicious cunt before diving back in, circling your swollen bud with the tip of his tongue until he felt you shiver then sucking it firmly between his lips with a heady grunt. Two of his fingers slipped between your petals until they were engulfed in the slick warmth of your perfect pussy. He immediately sunk them knuckle-deep and curled them against the front wall of your cunt, stroking that ultra-sensitive spot inside you fervently and flicking his tongue over your clit in a effort to bring you as much pleasure as possible.
The sound of you gasping in ecstasy had him growling against your heated flesh, giving a few shakes of his head to press his face as deep in your folds as possible. When you started to writhe shamelessly against his face he felt like he was in heaven, the movement of his fingers growing frantic when he felt your inner muscles starting to ripple around them. He never wanted to stop feasting on you, your taste flooding his senses until he felt even more drunk and his cock throbbing painfully against his fly.
You collapsed back against the mattress when you felt your core growing tight, burying your hands in his hair and kicking your feet against his back. Your movements grew desperate, shuddering violently, bucking your hips, basically riding his face as he railed you with his fingers. “Oh… oh, fuck yes! Eat my pussy just like that, pookie! Nngh, I’m so close!” He added a third finger and you were so close to losing it you were almost in pain. Sobs of pleasure were ripped from your chest over and over, your thighs closing tightly around his head and holding him in place while you undulated on top of his pistoning fingers. You couldn’t even remember why you had been pissed at him. “Ah, fuck it’s coming! Don’t you dare stop sucking my clit! Fuck fuck fuck… I’m coming!”
Pete doubled his efforts, attacking your clit with even greater fervor, sucking and tonguing it frenetically as he pumped his fingers so fast and deep the wet sounds coming from your cunt grew even more obscene. “Yes, please baby… pookie wants your cream so bad,” He pressed the flat of his tongue directly against your swollen nub and massaged it with quick flicks, burying his fingers to the knuckle and rubbing your g-spot aggressively. His free hand slid up your body so he could palm your bouncing tits, plucking at your stiff nipples and squeezing your curves gently until your breath caught and your back arched violently.
Your scream rattled the windows. Every muscle in your body spasmed violently as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls fluttering madly around Pete’s fingers while you squirted a flood of sweet juices all over his lower face until the collar of his shirt was soaked. It was so intense your vision whited out and you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. By the time you came down he was still kneeling between your thighs, looking appropriately obsequious as he gently kissed every inch of your still quivering flesh.
“Come here and kiss me, pookie,” you smiled at him as he crawled up your body. “Lemme taste how good your apology was.”
The sight of you lying splayed out on the bed, your nightie in disarray and the neon lights from the street outside your window making your messy pussy glisten for him, it was enough to drive him to insanity. Pete groaned as he crawled up your body, making sure to kiss your stomach and breasts and neck so not a single inch of your body felt neglected. But you were impatient, grabbing him by his hair and smashing your lips against his. He groaned into your mouth as you stroked his tongue with yours, cradling your face in his hands and grinding his aching cock against your stomach.
“Mmm, you did so good, pookie,” you pecked him on the lips a few more times before rolling onto your side. “Okay, g’night!”
“Wait, baby!” He was so fucking hard and his balls were throbbing, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep. “Candy, I need you sweetheart, please…”
“Well I’m tired, and still annoyed,” you just huffed as you reached out to turn off the lamp on your nightstand, scowling at him over your shoulder when he whined and pressed his bulge against your hip. “You can wait to get that thing wet until the morning. I think it’ll do you good to go without, pookie. Give you time to think about your priorities.”
Pete just blinked at you, whimpering under his breath before flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling fan. If he had to wait for the morning he would just sleep with blue balls. It wouldn’t be the first time. Loving you was torture, but damn it was sweet.
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4ngels0uls · 13 hours
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i wanna be your lover, i don’t wanna be your friend…. M.S
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don’t like? don’t read.
summary: y/n loves matt so much, till she makes a mistake and just ends up confessing… making them to end up having sex.
paring: fem!reader + bsf!matt
warnings: SMUT, use of y/n, friends to lovers, confessing, being embarrassed, abusive relationship (not physically), toxic relationships, a big trigger warning!, manipulation, disrespect, strong language,
a/n: i was listening to this song and thought of this.
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y/ns pov
“hey matt?” you yell for him as your in his room and he’s in the kitchen, grabbing a drink. “what?” he yells back. you don’t answer and he sighs. he walks over to his room with the cup of water in his hand. “what do you want?” he asks as he walks over to his desk to put the cup down. “i’ve been talking to this guy and he wants to meet up but i’m scared… does he look like he would kidnap me?” you show him a picture. “nah.” he answers dryly. “are you okay?” you ask before he just walks away.
that’s when you realized…. you fucked up.
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“i’m going to go matt…” you tell him as your going to to get ready to meet that guy. “kay.” he answers dryly again. you sigh and walk out the door with your stuff as you walk to your car, digging in your bag for your keys. you find them and open your vehicle and start the car and drive off.
you get home, pulling into the driveway. getting out your car as you walk into your house, locking your car doors. you take your shoes off in the pitch black house. you lock your door and turn some lights on as you walk to your room. you go over and get some clothes ready for you to take a shower, till you begin thinking about matt and how dry his answers were when you showed him the picture.
you flop back on your bed, crushing the clothes that you just put nicely on the bed. you stare at your roof and sigh, thinking you fucked up the whole friendship with matt. you genuinely like matt… like more than a friend but you’ll know it’ll never happen to you begin to find other guys, like this one that your texting in this exact moment. “i can’t wait to see your beautiful face.” the guy texts you.. alex is his name as you remember.
you met him in a party once, he was drunk… like very, and he asked for your number and it went off.. you guys didn’t even fucking remember when you traded numbers. but here you are, texting him that you’ve been waiting to see him, while you broke matt into pieces without even realizing.
you showered, done your makeup, and fixed your slutty outfit you have on. you walk over to your body mirror and check yourself out. you smiling and go and get into your car and drive off to the restaurant you are going to.
that’s when you walk in and see him, alex….
biggest mistake ever.
“hey alex.” you smile as you walk up to him. “hey y/n.” he smiles as you guys sit at a table and… next thing you fucking know he’s drugged your drink but you didn’t even know. your in his bed, naked… and now your dating…
few weeks later
he’s been manipulating you and cheating on you left and right. you know you made a big ass mistake as you try to text matt and he immediately tells you to block him. “w-what..?” you question. “i said fucking block him y/n!” he scolds. “i-“ you try to speak. “shut the fuck up before i break your phone!” he yells. fuck… you text him secretly. “i love you matt.” before you block him.
he’s typing right before you hit that red button that says block. you sigh, trying not to cry. “stop fucking crying like a big baby, bitch!” he yells. that’s when you begin to get anxiety from his yells, but that’s when you decide to hide it since you’ve been hiding your emotions for years..
it’s been 2 months since this incident.
you’ve been missing matt, he’s all you think about.. but if alex known, he would have tried to kill y/n.. that’s why he’s asleep. fat shit always fucking sleeping. you took his phone and remembered his password, you open his phone and look through his messages, you start to cry.. “what the fuck…” you sob quietly. you throw his phone and get up and grab a bunch of shit of yours and leave his house, taking your car keys you found as he keeps you home by hiding your keys.
that’s when you know… that’s fucked up and you should have never been to dinner with him. you immediately hop into your car and the first place you think off is matt’s house. and you hope that chris or nick doesn’t answer and it’s matt that does. you arrive and pull into their driveway and go up and take a deep breath before knocking on the door.
and exactly who you didn’t want to answer.. it’s nick. “nope fuck that!” he yells before trying to slam the door. “wait!l you yell. “i need to talk to matt.” you tell nick. he sighs. “matt!” nick yells before going up the stairs. you wait for matt and he opens the door a bit. “y/n?” he says quietly. “matt.” you say. “why’d you block me.” he asks. “he made me.” you says and matt knows immediately. “come on.” he takes your hand and drags you in.
he takes you to his room, some new stuff, and some stuff gone. “are you okay…?” he asks you as he sits you down on his gaming chair. “kinda.” you answer quietly. “ya look cold.” he says. “yeah i am…” you say. “here i’ll go get you a blanket.” he walks off, and comes back with a blanket. “here.” he says as you wrap yourself up with the blanket. “s-so like… what ever happened?” he asks me. “oh.. uhh. you know that guy that i showed you? yeah well we started dating and he was apparently manipulating me, cheating, and being disrespectful and just rude.” you say.
“oh i’m sorry…” he answers as he doesn’t know what to say. “it’s not your fault.” you say. he gets up and hugs you. you sit shocked for a moment and begin to hug him back. he picks me up and lays down with me on his lap. “you know y/n… i’ll always love you.”
so tell me that you love me again..
you smile at his words. “i’ll always love you too.” you mumble. he rubs your back. you sit up a bit and you guys both lock eyes. he takes a glance at your lips then right back to your eyes. you lean in slowly and you kiss him, as he immediately returns the kiss back. you pull away. “oh my god… i’m so sorry.” you say, after realizing what happened.
“it’s okay.” matt says as he pulls you back to him by your waist. he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to hug you. he pulls a bit away from the hug and stares into your eyes. he kisses you softly, closing his eyes as he holds your face. your instantly kissing back.
he rolls you guys over, now he’s on top and your on the bottom. he grins against your lips. he runs his fingers down your body, slowly. his touch effecting the fuck out of you. you watch his fingers get to your inner thighs. you look into his eyes and he smiles. your eyes on his as his eyes are on yours. “your so pretty.” he mumbles softly. you try not to smile as he talks. he smirks as he watches you try not to smile.
he watches as he runs his fingers to your thighs. he gets to your waistband. he looks into your eyes, for consent. “you okay with this…?” he asks. you smile and nod. he pulls your pants to your ankles, then they fall to the ground. he smiles softly at the tiny fabric covering you. you sit up and take your shirt off, also revealing your bra. “needy, hm?” he smirks. he kisses you back reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra in the back. he pulls the bra off slowly as he kisses you roughly.
matt pulls away and stares at your tits, completely out of it as he stares. you chuckle. he leans down and kisses your neck. leaving a trail of hickeys. “fuck your beautiful.” he mumbles on your skin before kiss down to your tits, kissing them.. till he puts your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it. you gasp as you feel his lips latch onto your nipples.
he smirks and pulls his mouth away. he kisses you before his fingers slide down to the edge of your tiny thong. he smiles and his fingers get down your underwear, trying to tease you. his long, thin fingers get to your clit, massaging it gently, making you buck your hips. he chuckles and pushes your hips down and holds them down. he starts to move his fingers faster and you start to moan a bit.
he slides down to your pussy. he stares as he uses the patting of his thumb to fingers your clit. he pushes a light kiss on your pussy, making you gasp loudly. he chuckles and latches his mouth. fucking you with his mouth at this point.
“o-oh fuck!” you moan, tryna be a little quiet since his brothers are home. he smirks at how loud your being, his grin sitting on your clit. then he starts to use his mouth faster, making it impossible to stay quiet. you buck your hips far, making matt smash his nose into your pelvis. he chuckles against your pussy, pushing your hips down for him to continue as you squeeze your thighs around his head.
he goes down to your hole, tongue fucking you now. “fuckfuckfuck!” you moan, feeling your orgasm come closer. matt chuckles “you close?” he mumbles. you nod like crazy, try to keep quiet, squeezing your face together as he tongue fucks you.
you could tell by his eyes, he was fucking pussy drunk. “matt! ohh fuck!” you practically scream before cumming on his face, all of your juices leaking down his chin to his neck. he licks you clean as your sensitive. “matt!” you yell as you squirm. he smiles and sits up and hovers above you. “your so fucking pretty.” he says in a raspy tone before smashing his lips into yours. he kisses you passionately, his tongue grazing your bottom lip as you let him in.
his tongue exploring your mouth. you whine against his lips, as matt swallows your whine. he breaks the kiss as he kisses down your neck, leaving fat fucking hickeys on your neck. “mattt!” you whine because you know everybody will ask. he smiles and kisses you again before undoing his belt on his baggy jeans.
you watch as he fumbles with the belt. he throws it somewhere on the ground before pushing both, pants and boxers down. he cock springing put as soon as he pulls his pants down. you look up at him as you lay beneath him. “what’s wrong?” he asks. “your big as fuck.” you say quietly, BEGGING silently he doesn’t hear what you said. he smiles and chuckle lightly before leaning down to you. he lines himself up between your folds, making you fumble silently. you gasp quietly as the feel the contact.
he smiles widely and shoves himself inside of you slowly. he smiles down as he watches your core swallow his hard cock. he begins to thrust faster, making you gasp loudly. “fuck!” you moan as the bed creeks loudly. he groans softly, moving even faster. you throw you head back in pleasure. “fuck…” he groans as you clench, making him grunt loudly. “fuck sakes… if you keep doing that i won’t last long.” he groans
you begin to start milking him at this point. he’s struggling to not cum right in this moment right now. he starts to think of things that won’t make him finish as fast. but your moans and the skin slapping, echoing in the room is making so much harder. “fuck!” he groans loudly before releasing his release inside you, painting your spongey walls white.
you release right after he does. “fuck…m’ sorry.” he apologizes. “it’s okay. seriously.” you tell him. “you were fucking milking me.” he mumbles into your neck. “i knowww” you whine. he chuckles. he slowly pulls out. he gets up and goes to grab a wet warm cloth, to wipe both of your guys releases off you. he wipes your sensitive core, slowly not to hurt or anything. he throws the cloth somewhere and lays his head on your stomach.
“i love you.” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “i…love you too.” you answer.
————————————————————
a/n
holy fuck i took long to post this.
i’m sorry, been busy. i’ll try to get the next carrington one out as soon as i can😊
THANK YOUS FOR 400😓
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lapseinart · 2 days
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I kind of forgot I wrote this? Found it in my notes app and thought eh what the hell?
Steph broaches the subject of taking a break from vigilantism with Dick first.
She’s not entirely sure why. Well she does. The Big Boss is a mess of trauma and violence and won’t understand, Babs will probably shut her down immediately if she doesn’t have some kind of back-up, Damian is too young and the last thing they need is for him to feel betrayed or worried about his place in the family, Cass is in Hong Kong again, she isn’t close to Jason, and Tim, well, she already knows what Tim will probably say, given what happened after she died.
Besides, Dick was her Batman. She knows he understands her in a different way than the others. The way she understands him. For all B was… well, Batman during her (very short, very unpleasant, very traumatic) tenure as Robin, Steph has always felt closer to Dick.
So she waits until B monopolizes Damian for patrol, then she offers to patrol with Dick.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Nightwing asks, once they’re on a rooftop, far from any eavesdroppers. It’s a quiet night. A few muggings, but mostly a reminder to any criminals of the Bats presence.
“That obvious?” Steph asks, settling down on the rooftop. She lets her legs dangle over the edge. It’s weird how people can look so little even from on top of a four story building.
“Nah,” Nightwing smirks as he plops down right next to her. “I just know you.”
They watch the skyline for a while, a plane soaring overhead, pigeons settling on gargoyles.
Gotham is a terrible beast of a city. She sucks the life out of the good and makes the bad worst. Steph saw it in her mom, as she spiraled further into her drug habits, and in her dad, as his heists escalated.
Steph is terrified of ending up like them.
“I’ve been thinking of leaving,” she says abruptly. “Not just Gotham. Vigilantism.”
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sagekiosk · 7 hours
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🐍🐙🏹
Jamil, Azul, Rook x Reader — Yandere — Angst — TWST
You guys ; NOOOO SAGE,, ANGST AGAIN!?!?
Me ; you eat whats on your plate >:(( Hope this will feed you guys for the time being while I’m making the other fics, this is just a silly gift for @plumipal !! hope you enjoy plumi.
FOR THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED ON WHATS THE PROMPT!! Check out Plumipals' yan twst tattoo au. Then this could probably more sense!
Also probably OOC??
TW;; Aww angst :((, pfft no I’m not biased w jamil, DEESSPPERATE BOYS, Jamil crying, Sad Azul, Emotionless(?) Rook, all of them hating on the tattoo, Bad grammar?, Rook watching you sleep, Rook's part is a bit short maybe.
JAMIL VIPER 🐍
That damn tattoo.. that stupid tattoo. He hates it so much, he hates it so so bad. Why? Why did you have to put that stupid thing on you?
And what’s even worse is that it’s because of HIS overblot. It’s because of him that you got that horrible mark on your wrist.
It’s all he can think about, all he can think about is that tattoo. He feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to overblot.
again.
He just can’t take it, he can’t! It’s always on his mind. You looked so happy, smiling, when you confirmed that you had that tattoo. You even showed it to him as if it was the greatest decision you made..
He just wishes that oh so beautiful smile was engraved in his brain. And not that horrible tattoo.
Poor Jamil, he can’t sleep at all. His eye bags are so visible under his eyes. He couldn't eat properly either, he couldn't bring himself to stand up and get fresh air. Whats even more annoying is that Kalim has been questioning if he's fine
Jamil just simply scoffed and told him he was fine. But really he wasn’t, you probably hate him don’t you? You probably despise him to the point where you don’t wanna see him.
Well actually, you don’t, he just can’t bear to see you. Whenever he does all he can focus on is the tattoo on your wrist. It pains him so bad for being the reason of it.
Seeing you would just make him cry right on the spot, he feels so worthless and horrible.
He couldn’t take it anymore, so he started to avoid you. Like that was a good idea..
It just only made things worse than they were before, Jamil also came to a realization that he can’t live another day without seeing you.
Yes, he does hate the fact that he’s the reason you got the tattoo. But he also hates the fact of not being able to be with you. He wants to spend every second of his life with you.
Literally like a week later you were met face to face with a Jamil who looked so close to crying. He looked like a wreck, unlike the usual stoic and independent Jamil you’re used to seeing.
"Y/n.." he called out to you his eyes stuck on the ground.
"Jamil.." You answered him. How did it get this bad? You put your hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I haven't seen you all week.. and now you suddenly appear in front of me looking like a mess.. no offense.”
Jamil balled up his fists, the hand that you put on his shoulder was the same hand where the tattoo was in. He hated it. He shut his eyes tightly wanting the image of that tattoo out of his brain.
"Jamil?" you called out for him once more.
Opening his eyes, now staring at you directly into your eyes. You could see the tears threatening to fall.
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Y/n." he stammered "Please don't hate me."
"Jamil- why would I-"
"That tattoo.. it was because of me, its my fault isn't it? You despise me don't you." sniffling he grabs your other hand gently pushing the other one off of his shoulder.
He pulls your hand up to his face, your palm cupping his cheek. "I need you Y/n, I need you to love me as much as I do. I'm not second to those two right?" he continued tears slowly falling down his cheeks a smile creeping up his face.
It wasn’t because of happiness though.
"I'll be better, I promise, I'll make sure I change- anything you want from me, its yours. Just please.. please choose me."
AZUL ASHENGROTTO 🐙
When he first heard about the tattoo he couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it! You surely haven't marked yourself with those' idiots symbols, right?
You wouldn't.. yeah! Those rumours are just rumours. Theres a big chance they aren't true anyway. He would only believe them if he see's it for himself!
So for the first few days he was fine.. still overthinking. But he's just being paranoid! It's just a thing that.. will simply pass.
That was until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to silence those thoughts, they were so noisy. He invites you into Mostro Lounge's VIP room.
He asks about the tattoo and you confirm the rumours were true. You even had the audacity to roll up your sleeve and show it off proudly.
Fucking ouch, he felt his heart shatter at that point. He wishes that he just let those voices in his head be.
"I- I see, good to know you have.. such amazing friends." he spoke bitterly with a smile. shit- he stuttered.. hope you didn't notice it..
He clears his throat, are tears forming in his eyes? He has to hold it in.. He can't look like a loser. Not in front of you..
He asks you to leave.. which he rarely does. His excuse being that he has a lot of work to do. But actually, he just wants to lock himself up and never go out again.
When you leave the tears start flowing. His elbow on his desk, while his fingers massage his temple. The papers on his desk were getting soggy, but he doesn’t care.
He could recover those papers but it would probably take so much for you to remove those stupid tattoos. Do you hate him? He thought that you and him already made up from his overblot..
He's been stuck in his office for such a long time. He's put Jade in charge for now. He needs time for himself…
The longer hes stuck in there the more he thinks about that horrid tattoo. It's stuck in his mind, and it’s torturing him. He can't let anyone else see this. He can't allow anyone to see him as a stupid little crybaby.
He just wants to sink back into his octopot..
But then an idea pops in his head.. he should think of ways to maybe, earn your favor and get his own tattoo too. Thats the perfect idea!
He tries to make up a contract but all of his ideas go to the trash. They're all so horrible! No way you'd sign these..
They're just not perfect enough for you! Most of them seem childish.. and probably stupid. If he gave one of these to you then you'd probably see him as an idiot!
"No.. no.. no..! None of these contracts are good enough!" he crumpled up the contract he was holding it and threw it into the pile across the room.
How isn't he enough for you!? Why did you have to choose those two! He's- He's your friend too right? He'll do anything for you!
So why.. why did you just have to get a tattoo of them?
He starts crying again, how many times has he cried? He's not sure. He continues to sob covering his face with his eyes.
"Prefect would never love a stupid octopus like me.."
ROOK HUNT 🏹
He stares down at your sleeping figure, your tattooed wrist exposed right in front of him. What is that, mon amour? A tattoo?
Oh! how beautiful, why hasn't he heard you talking about it though?
Oh well, at least hes the first one to see it. He bends down smiling inspecting the tattoo closer.
It reminds him of something.. no actually, someone- hold on, Deuce and Ace?
..Did you seriously get a tattoo of them? W-well, its beautiful! The beauty of friendship is truly amazing. Your bond between Ace and Deuce is truly something!
But why did you have to mark your skin with those symbols though? Couldn't it be something better? Like his name, or maybe something that reminds you of him..
He's your friend too isn't he? So why didnt you get a tattoo for him too?.. He's done so much to make you happy!
He's always tried to keep you safe too.. And to always give you gifts and appreciate for the things you have done when nobody did.
So why didn't you get a tattoo of him too?
Yes he knows! Ace and Deuce have been there longer than him.. But he could treat you better than they ever could..
...
he isn't sure how to feel about this.
So for that night he leaves early going back to pomefiore.
For the next few weeks you notice that Rook has been really silent. You dont feel like anyone's watching you either.
You haven't heard Rook's praises about love in a while either.. so something must be wrong with him. You invite him to Ramshackle so you could help him cheer up.
Rook is oh so grateful, he would be singing praises about your generosity if he wasn't so down at the moment. Rook needs you. Rook wants you to like him to the point you'd get him a tattoo of him also.
Rook finds himself laying his head on your lap his arms wrapped around your waist while kneeling on the ground. You gently run your fingers through his soft silky blonde hair.
Rook sniffled and looked up at you, and you could see a single tear form in his eye.
"My heart yearns for your favor, mon amour. I wish to be as loved as much as you love Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade. But It seems that you haven't noticed that yet." he whispered, his voice hoarse.
You tilted your head to the side slightly. You didn’t hear him clearly and ask him to repeat what he said.
He would’ve, but he just doesn’t feel like answering so he looked away from your eyes. You understood and went back to patting him gently.
He takes a deep breath in burry his head back into your stomach. "You’re so cruel, yet I still love you. The things I do for love." The things he does for you. He would do anything for you.
"I've never let anyone see me in this vulnerable state.” You’re so cruel, but he will still love you. No matter what, he will wait for you to love him back.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
BAM DONE. I had a little fun writing this honestly, silly little break. Thanks for reading up to this point. Sorry for the grammatical errors..
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yiangchen · 1 year
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why is it so fucking hard to get over the people that have hurt you the most??? how can you know how terrible they are for you and still want them???
#i was dating this new guy or at least i thought i was and i was starting to think i liked him and then i found out he sees me as a friend#i found this out while drunk#and drunk me CANNOT be trusted#i immediately started texting this other guy that i'm clearly not over#the same one that i said i ran into the other night (if any of you even have any idea what im talking about lmao idc i just need to vent)#so yeah i just immediately start texting him#he was mad at me because i didnt say hi the other night#so he hadnt been responding#but this time he finally did#he seemed to finally understand when i said that seeing him again was a lot for me and that my hands for literally shaking#and thats why i couldnt go up and talk to him#and we actually started having a good convo#but then he shut down again like he always does#and i know thats just how he is#i know hes just not ready to let me in#he literally said hes not ready to let anyone in#but its like my heart wont listen yk#because we both admitted how much we cared about each other#and my heart just latches onto that#im well aware that if he still wanted me he would say it#ive been so honest with my feelings#the only thing i havent done is come right out and say i wanna be with him and see if this works#but like....i dont have to say that#he knows how i feel#and if he felt the same way he would do something about it#BUT MY HEART WONT LISTEN#i know that i shouldnt but i cant stop hoping that we're somehow going to end up together#i really thought i was moving on with this other guy but HERE WE ARE#the second that doesnt work out im right back here pining over a guy that broke my heart so many times i lost count#god.
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