Tumgir
#but yeah
zapsalis-d · 23 hours ago
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me: *sees flash charges in the distance*
me: oh—
me: *hears flute*
me: OH—
me: *in the end, hears mando’s theme so—
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bathfinder · 2 days ago
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that's it. that's their dynamic.
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arcadia-city-stories-if · 6 hours ago
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OK so this really is a post I didn't want to have to write BUT here we are anyways lol
SO before my little spiral in December I'd been having some problems with my laptop battery not holding charge etc, then while I was at my lowest I didn't touch it for weeks and when I finally did pick it back up it just wouldn't turn on... I ordered a new charger and which took a little while over new years, then when it got here it seemed to work for like an hour until the laptop went into sleep mode and just wouldn't turn back on. I have no insurance (of course lol) so I gave it to a friend to look at and, basically, he tried for weeks but whatever is wrong with it is above his skill range...
So now I need to send it to a professional to try and get it fixed (which I can't afford) OR buy a whole new laptop (which I definitely can't afford lol) soooo... yeah... kinda disappointing and frustrating all around really because if it doesn't work then I've not only lost my references and everything I've written, including 9k words of my fourth iteration of this godsdamned demo, but also all of my personal stuff like photos etc, which stings especially bad now I'm not in contact with my family anymore so have no way of getting any other copies etc etc... all very blah tbh lol.
I'm looking for work at the minute (apparently depressive hibernation periods are not conducive to retaining employment - who knew? Lol) so depending on when I get a new job will effect when I can get it looked at, and whether it can be fixed will effect when I can start working on writing again.. so yeah, I'm just really sorry, if I could change things I would but unfortunately I'm still dealing with the consequences of my little meltdown and can only apologise for letting things get to this point.. it sucks and I'm just sorry 😞
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monkberrymoon-delight · 22 hours ago
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.
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alwaysabeautifullife · 2 days ago
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Who wants to see some of my cursed ads
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Isn’t it beautiful
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casismymrdarcy · 6 months ago
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Reading the article and I-
Additional edit:
Okay for people asking why we are gonna get sued, simply put, the fact that the mouse or see double u cannot sue us before this is because we didn't monetize our content a.k.a we didn't make money out of it. The tumblr post+ is essentially encouraging us to charge people while making post out of copyrighted content. The mouse and c double u do not like this hence the risk of getting sued for example over the spicy destiel/loki fic you post yesterday.
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corpsentry · 5 months ago
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what we lost that day
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ninjamaod · 5 months ago
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‘Smokers are not valid, smokers are not protected under the rights of the constitution’ - c!Tommy, at some point, probably
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classicglowup · 5 months ago
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Clothes are ultimately supposed to be what you live in, make memories in, drink in, dance in, run through the sand and grass in, toss off to skinny dip, eat in at candlelit dinner parties, what you look at and you actually have favorite pieces that mean something that are your favorite prints to wear over and over again, that your man looks at you and says I love it when you wear that dress or that skirt or that sweater because he’s actually used to seeing it because you DO wear the same things not only twice but over and over again and it’s a part of you as much as your most loved perfume or your hairstyle, Clothes are supposed to be something that you purchase and save with the thought that you may pass it down someday for someone else to love, clothes are supposed to be lived in, to make you feel beautiful and happy in. We have to take back the relationship we have with clothes, and bags and shoes and accessories, they are not supposed to be trophies that only sit on a shelf to take a picture or video in front of, they are NOT supposed to be purchased to impress other people!! they are not supposed to bleed you dry, break your back, stress you out max out your credit cards and make you start to do crazy things to obtain them, they are not supposed to be a marker for success or the starting line of a never ending race to see how much bullshit you can hoard before you ultimately die.
“Buy less, Choose Well, Make it Last” - Vivienne Westwood
And LOVE what you wear and what you have and breathe in it and let it be quality and let it be special and let it be curated and let it be you; your clothes shoes and bags should be there for you, not for you to live around them please Remember that
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goose777 · 7 days ago
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Jesper: we cant kill sleeping men thats not right
wylan (an empath): we could wake them up
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iamtherabbitinwonderland · a year ago
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mcmoth · a month ago
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People don't hate c!Phil because he's 'unempathetic', that's not it at all. This has got nothing to do with empathy. In fact, i'd say he is rather empathetic - he's atuned to when people are stressed, when they're angry, he knows what they're feeling, and he's good at helping them calm down when he wants to. People criticise him because what he isn't is understanding.
That's different to empathy. He can give advice and platitudes and encouragement plenty, and in fact, that's why c!Tommy values him so much, but it doesn't take away from how he's refusing to listen. He knows what people are feeling, and he's refusing to learn why. He's had so much time to learn the history behind everything, he's had so many reasons to, and yet, he remains stubborn in his stances - he remains stubborn in his belief that he knows better than them. That's the problem here - that he's condescending, he's hypocritical, and he continues to actively brush off any hurt that the people around him express at his actions. That's got nothing to do with empathy. You can be totally nonempathetic and be a very compassionate and moral person. And you can also be a very empathetic person and be a total asshole.
Nice doesn't equal kind. What matters is the desire to be better. And c!Phil has only expressed how everyone around him should be better, and never himself. What makes him a bad person is his total ineptitude for self reflection.
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cryptidmuppet · 7 months ago
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And that's how Belos got defeated—
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whyissupernaturaltrending · 2 months ago
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Since it's November 5th again, let me throw some statistics here:
Since I started running this blog (Jan 22), Supernatural trended for 106 days, which makes it 36.8% of the days between Jan 22 and Nov 5, 2021
Since November 5, I found 132 confirmed trending dates*, which makes for 36.2% of the days during the last year
As the second point only includes confirmed dates, it's possible that Supernatural trended for up to 38.4% days in the last year, more or less
Do with it what you will. These might not be exact figures, as I'm barely awake and going to sleep in about 3 minutes, but it's safe to say that during the last year, Supernatural has trended for over 1/3 of the year.
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stvckinwonderland · a month ago
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thinking about how pran's apartment is used as a metaphor for pran's heart in the series
when pran is first presented with the idea of letting pat into his room in the 2nd episode, he actively refuses. his heart is still closed off.
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starting episode 4, we see pat constantly making excuses to show up at pran's door and him trying to enter pran's heart room but pran either gets annoyed or shoves him right out again, not allowing him in there.
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this continues until the end of the episode when pran gives in, allowing pat to enter his apartment and even letting him sleep in his bedroom.
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in the beginning of episode 6 after the kiss, we see him lock his heart door while pat tries to get in from the outside.
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once the bet starts in episode 7 and we see how more comfortable they've become around each other and their feelings, pat enters pran's room on his own accord and pran doesn't refuse him in any way, even invites him in saying that his door isn't locked.
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and now in episode 8 since they're boyfriends and in love, pat has taken up a permanent space in his heart room, basically living there. pran has their pictures hung up, their uniforms are next to each other on the hanger.
he now has completely allowed pat into his heart
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just-screaming · 3 months ago
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I'm just being productive
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secretmellowblog · a month ago
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Bag End at night 💙. still working on my Hobbit comic :3
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nishiannoya · a month ago
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18+ only
hinata shoyo x f!reader, dubcon, omega!reader, a/b/o, knotting, breeding, possessive, scent kink (?), hint at slipping into subspace, mention of pups, reader is described as small (meant in a 'we're a sexually dimorphic species in this universe' way), i didn't proofread this sorry, im half asleep writing and posting this
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You're surprised when you come onto the MSBY Black Jackals team as an athletic trainer and meet someone who's still unpresented, yet alone someone who most likely will not present as alpha based on his stature. However, you quickly learn not to be concerned over Hinata Shoyo being dwarfed amongst all the alpha players - he's rather fearsome in practice and at play, and the fact that he's able to strike such a presence despite his status makes him all the more impressive. He's become your favorite player to meet with and talk to, finding it easy to converse with him without worrying that you might be doing something to unintentionally seduce him, but also genuinely enjoying your time spent with the lively redhead.
Still, as an omega, you feel a little lonely and nervous at times being surrounded by all these hot-blooded alphas. While you trust your suppressants, you're cautious to keep your interactions with all the players at arm's length. You're not ignorant to Miya's comments about how small you are, Bokuto always asking you to compare hand sizes, and even the occasional telling pat on the head from Sakusa. Although being mated to a pro-athlete would be ideal for some, it's just not something you're ready for despite what your body might try to tell you on those days you're a few hours late in taking your suppressants - a little predicament you find yourself in right now as you rush out the door after you had checked your phone to see a message from one of the managers.
Strangely, Hinata had missed the last few days at practice. He's easily one of the healthiest members of the team, following a balanced diet and mental focus routines long before meeting with any trainers and nutritionists. In fact, you two had just discussed it last week when you asked him what kind of protein shakes he likes. You told him that you can't find any that taste good, but you want to up your protein and fat intake for when you do eventually find a mate. He didn't seem ill then, though you suppose a virus could get the best of anyone's defenses.
His apartment is apparently not too far from yours - hence the manager asking you to check on him on your way to the gymnasium. You follow the directions on your maps app, the light nagging in the back of your mind that you forgot to take your suppressants gets pushed away by the fact that it's just Hinata that you're going to go see - you can always be a few minutes late to work to go back home after you make sure he's alive and well. You wish he would just respond to the text you sent him and then you could be on your way. But it's pretty early, and the sun is barely rising when you climb the steps to the second floor of the complex.
It feels strange knocking on his door so early in the morning. You wonder if nobody has heard from him and that perhaps it would have made more sense for one of his teammates to do a wellness check. You wouldn't consider yourself close to Hinata, and you don't think he would either other than a typical friendly work relationship. You suppose it's part of your job though, and that's what you tell yourself to shake off any awkwardness you're starting to feel as you rap your index and middle knuckles lightly to his door.
Something makes your nose twitch that you can't quite place, but then you hear the footsteps and movement behind the door. There's a click and suddenly the door is wide open, and you fear that you have the wrong unit. You're met with huge, hungry brown eyes that seem to shimmer with excitement when they land on you, and a glimpse of the pink tip of this person's tongue running across his bottom lip. Your heart stills. This could be quite the fuck up.
"Food," says the man in front of you in a strained voice. "Please tell me you have food."
"Uh," you utter dumbly, and realize that it is Hinata, looking rather haggard. Perhaps he is sick, though aside from the flush of his tanned skin and mess of his orange locks, he looks healthier than ever in his tank top and gym shorts. You might be hallucinating, but it looks like he somehow put on a couple kilos in muscle since you saw him last week, and maybe more than a few centimeters in height as well. No. Maybe you just underestimated his actual size. Maybe his doorframe is just small.
"No food," you manage to say once you collect yourself, choosing to blame the morning for your brain malfunctioning. "Just checking to-"
You're cut off with his groan and pitiful whimper as he turns around and slinks back into his apartment. He leaves the door wide open, leaving you confused as to if he's inviting you in or not. You peek your head inside and hear what sounds precisely like a body flopping onto the cushions of a couch. Quickly you step inside and slip off your shoes, remembering to close the door behind you.
You call his name, making your way out of the entry hall and into the kitchen. There's empty food wrappers and containers all over the counter, and the pantry door is open to display barren shelves other than some spices. Something tells you to leave- no, stay- no, leave- no-
"So hungry," you hear Hinata groan that leads you to too him lying face down, legs sticking out comically off the arm of the couch in a way that makes you wonder if he's even comfortable.
"Are you feeling okay?" You ask, crouching down to eye level with him. His cheek is smushed against the cushion, face contorted in a pout. He really doesn't seem sick, you think. If anything it reminds you of when you're hormonal. Your nose twitches again, and you realize that it's not because of all the food trash in the kitchen.
You don't know what it is that compels you to reach out to him, perhaps it's because he's adorably pitiful in this state, but your hand finds the side of his face as your thumb gently pulls at his top lip. Your eyes fly open and you go to immediately retract your hand when you catch a glimpse of the fangs that must be painfully pushing to find room in his gums.
"I-"
You try to scramble up and away, but one of his hands latches onto your forearm, forcing you to fall forward to your knees. Your face is mere inches away from his as he shifts to push himself up and bring the underside of your wrist pressed directly to his nose, making you gasp as he breathes in deep, your heart and his eyes fluttering at the action.
"You smell- Good. And sweet," he mutters, facial muscles twitching. "Hungry. I'm so hungry."
Your breath quickens, feeling some kind of primal instinct to flee or freeze like he's going to make a meal of you. You know there's no slipping out of his firm hold on you, so you shakily gulp down the anxious feelings starting to knock at your chest.
If what you think is happening, is happening, then you're fucked. So fucked. Hinata inhales again, this time running his tongue over the sensitive thin skin of your wrist. He whines, needing more than just the faint taste of your scent. His breath nearly steams off the wet patch of skin. A shiver creeps down your spine and has you reconsidering that maybe being completely fucked isn't be such a bad thing. Yes- No- Yes, get out- No, let this happen.
His eyes snap open, brown irises completely blown black and you realize that you don't have a choice. He pushes himself off the couch, slithering toward you on the ground as you slowly scoot backwards- to make room? To make a desperate attempt at putting some distance between you? It really doesn't matter. You can't take your eyes off him, feeling like prey who will certainly get devoured the moment your attention breaks.
"Hinata," you say his name despite your heart feeling like it's not pumping any oxygen, or maybe too much oxygen. Every alarm in your body is going off- the good ones, the bad ones, all screaming at you- as he crawls closer and closer until his knees are pinching your hips and his nose is nearly touching yours. You bite the inside of your bottom lip in anticipation. Heat rolls off his body, and suddenly you're aware of a scent- spicy, tangy like a high note penetrating your olfactory senses in a way that makes your brain buzz all the way out to the very tips of your nervous system.
His head dips to the side and he presses his nose into your neck right below your ear. You cry out at the sensation, making him groan in return. His breath is heavy on your skin, every huff making you feel hotter and hotter until you grow agitated at your clothes for feeling like they're suffocating you. He licks at the source of your sweet, alluring scent, fangs grazing as if he wants to bite down. Your skin raises, vision struggles to stay focused. It's too hot. Everything is suddenly way too hot.
"P-Please."
You don't know of what you beg for. Even if he let you go at this point, you wouldn't move away from him. He lifts his head at your plea, a pained expression on his face that tells you that at least a little bit of the usual Hinata is still in there.
"Sorry, I'm just so- You smell so good. I want-" He pants, unable to make sense of what's going on with his body and instincts. You can feel the heat of his breath on your lips as he seems to dance around the idea of consuming you, drawing his face in closer and pulling away. Closer and away. Closer and-
You decide for the both of you, or more your desire takes over as you crash your lips onto his, messy and hasty, tongue and teeth with desperate moans and cries exchanged in between. Your ankles lock behind his knees and fingers pull at the back of his neck, bringing him to his elbows as to not completely crush you beneath him as you lose yourself in chasing his tongue with yours. It's wet and filthy and noisy and oh so overwhelmingly hot that you both don't even know whose clothes you're tearing at- just wanting them gone and out of the way.
You growl and he snarls. No logic, just need. The hasty, clumsy, heated battle to get naked takes longer than what would please either of you, though neither of you are willing to pull away from each other's lips or stop grinding for long enough to fully get rid of the garments. You can't help it, feeling the large bulge of his cock nearly has you falling over the edge every time it catches against your clit through the layers. Both of you whine for more, yet you can't get enough of how good it feels to rub yourself on him, covering yourself in his scent.
Red marks from rough, eager fingers litter your skin and his when you're both finally bare to one another. His tanned and freckled skin shines with sweat and the glow of something molten inside him that's ready to explode. You exchange a glance, drinking in how wild he looks as he stares at you pinned beneath him, bits of orange hair stuck to his forehead while the rest is mussed from where you've been running your hands through and tugging his lips closer to yours. If there were any part of your rational brain left, you'd take a moment to find it funny how you ended up like this. But it's not funny right now, and there's a mutual understanding between both of you that every passing second that he's not buried balls deep in your throbbing cunt is more painful than the last.
"Please," you beg again. This time, you know what for. Your voice is strained, on the verge of tears from how badly you need to feel him inside you.
He pushes himself up so he can grab the backs of your knees, pushing your thighs closer and closer into your chest as his thick cock comes down onto your soaking cunt with a wet slap. You gasp at the heat that seems to radiate from his dick, making you clench as if he's already filling you up. His rough fingertips dig into your skin as you begin to writhe, desperate to get his angry, leaking, red tip aligned with your entrance.
"Please, please, ple-!"
Your voice chokes as he plunges into you, your body unwilling to take in even a small breath as if to better accommodate the size of him stretching you out. Your legs quiver around him, feeling the last threads of your sanity snapping with every bit of him that sinks further into you and starts to press on that sweet, deep spot inside.
"So fucking good," he moans, hardly able to keep his tongue in his mouth and eyes from getting lost in his head. The praise makes your head go fuzzy and your pussy gives an encouraging squeeze. You claw at his arms, needing to feel him closer and get lost in the heat of his body and scent of sweat.
He falls forward to his hands on either side of your head, forcing the last bit of him in besides the beginning swell of his knot, and nearly knocking the rest of your breath from you. It stings so deliciously sweet as your cunt drools in excess to assist with the size. His hips start moving, perhaps maybe with a little intent on taking it slow. However, that quickly dissolves as every thrust draws the sweetest little cries from your lips and urges him lose himself in the sounds of your pleasure, wanting to hear more, more, more.
He's not so quiet himself, groaning and growling every time your pussy sinfully grips around him, as if consciously trying to milk him directly into your womb. The thought makes him go wild, picking up the pace and pressing into you even further. You're completely folded beneath him, legs dangling helplessly over his shoulders. Your own slick coats your thighs, his stomach, his taught and heavy balls, and onto the floor underneath your hips that are completely lifted at this point. It's downright nasty, yet every lewd squelch and wet slap of skin makes you squeeze tighter on him, muscles shaking from all the tension.
"Gonna make you mine. All mine. They can't have you. All fucking mine," he huffs as he seeks out the sweet smell on your neck again, making you keen and writhe with a wave of painfully strong need flushing through your body.
"You want it. You want that, little omega."
He's not asking you. He's telling you. And yes, you do want it. You've never wanted anything so fucking bad in your life. Tears prickle in your eyes from how badly you want it- to completely belong to someone. To be completely consumed by him.
"Omega," he says breathlessly and you swear you can feel yourself slipping into some place hazy at the endearment, and the push of his cock driving you deeper. It sounds so sweet, feels so good that you sob and wrap your arms around him tighter.
Tale as old as time. Just like you had been told your entire life: You'll know when you know. And right now, there's no doubt in your mind, and no mind to even doubt. You were made for this. You were made for him.
"Alpha," you whimper into his skin. "All yours, alpha. Please, make me all yours."
It doesn't matter that you thought of him as nothing more than a coworker mere minutes ago. It doesn't matter that you were convinced you weren't ready for a mate yet. It doesn't matter that he's just recently come into his fully mature self. You know, and all that matters is that he knows as well.
He groans contentedly into your neck, the rumble of the sound tickling your ears and flooding your body with more heat. You swear you feel his cock grow even harder and more swollen inside you as his thrusts get stronger, as if he intends to hit the deepest spot inside of with every pump.
"Fuck- Yeah, mine. All fucking mine. Gonna make you- Gonna-"
He rambles on, snarling and lost in the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, drunk on the lewd sounds of his rhythmic ruts. He moves his forehead to rest on yours, taking the occasional opportunity to try and swallow your cries. Every swipe of his tongue on yours makes your pussy flutter and has him pushing you harder into the floor.
"Alpha, please. Knot- Your knot. Please cum. Please- Pups. Your pups," you sob on his lips, feeling teased by the bulbous swell of his knot knocking against your swollen lips and clit. "Need you. Need all of you."
Your plea pulls a guttural growl from him, his facial muscles twisting and teeth clenching as he works to give you everything you need. Faster and faster his hips move, shoving your bodies across the floor and making your shoulders burn with each thrust, though it doesn't compare to the burn in your core- the uncomfortably tight coil that begs to be snapped.
"Mine. My pups. Fuck- You're Gonna- Yeah, you're gonna be all mine. Full of- Full of me- mine."
He's gone, lost in a single thought, once again seeking your scent. He hastily moves his hands to grip into your hair, needing to hold onto something- anything as he chases fulfillment.
You cry and beg for more- for his knot, for his cum, for his pups, feeling so helpless for needing to be full of him so you know that you're truly his. His cock continues to piston in and out of your sloppy cunt, each one with the power and intent behind it to stuff you full. With one last hard thrust, his knot bullies its way inside. Your eyes go wide, nails scrambling to find hold on his back and shoulders as if to transmit some of the pain of the stretch. Though the discomfort is only temporary, quickly fading into pleasure and reminding you that you were born to take him.
"Take my knot so fucking good. That's my girl. My omega," he coos just before melting into the full enveloping heat of your cunt.
It feels so hot. So fucking good that you wish you could stay like this, stuffed full of him, for the remainder of your days. You truly were born for this, designed by the gods to serve this man, your alpha, with a place to dump his seed.
"You ready? Ready to- oh fuck- Ready to take my cum? Gonna make you- Gonna be so full- All me. All mine. Oh fuck- oh fuck-"
All it takes is a few more of your sweet squeezes at his words for him to come bursting inside of you- cum shooting so hard that you can feel it like a faucet head against that deliciously deep spot against your walls, hot and sticky and oh so satiating as it fills you until you're overflowing and spilling even around the plug of his cock. Your eyes roll shut, the sound of his broken howls of pleasure are nearly drowned out by the state of bliss you're thrust into. Your belly feels so warm, so good, so pleased with the amount of spend that paints you.
It's a few minutes of both of you trying to catch your breath before trying to move or speak. He finally softens enough to remove himself from you, somehow finding the strength to fall to the side and roll off of you rather than collapsing directly on top. It takes all his reserve to reach over to grab your hand and keep his eyes open to make sure you're alright.
"That was- Sorry. I don't know what- I mean, it was really good. For me. I just-" He fumbles through the fog of his brain, breath still a bit haggard. "Are you okay?"
You roll your head to look at him, this boy, this man, this alpha- your alpha that you only knew on a casual level just moments before. You smile, giving his hand a light squeeze. You're already completely enamoured.
"Might be a little sore," you giggle.
"Sorry," he winces. "I have a bed. Don't think I can get up though. So-"
Right on cue, his stomach let's out a long and loud rumble, making his cheeks glow bright red.
"Give me a minute. I'll order something to be delivered," you say as you give your legs a testing stretch.
"You're the best. I'm just gonna...close my..."
And just like that, he's completely passed out naked on his floor. You giggle, scooting over to give an affectionate little peck to his sweaty forehead that makes the corner of his lip twitch into a momentary smile.
There will be time later to mull over the details and talk about the situation, but for now, you study the cute sleeping face of Hinata Shoyo and embrace the warm, secure feeling coursing through your body.
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Omake
A few hours later, there's a knock at the apartment door. Shoyo passed out again after eating two days worth of calories in one meal, his body doing its best to keep up with all the changes. Wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his sweats, you scuttle to the front door and peek out the peephole. Your heart stops when you see a familiar face. Tentatively, you crack open the door to the surprised face of Sakusa Kiyoomi, who stares you down, his expression even more intimidating with the black mask hiding the lower half of his face.
"Was told to check up on Hinata since you no-showed today as well. I'll just- Yeah. Bye."
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clownsuu · 12 days ago
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why the heck do djmms shoes have heels
Wh- most shoes have heels my guy-?
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They were inspired by these type of (mens) shoes-
Every shoe's sole typically always have a type of heel, unless they are flat bottoms but those are usually uncomfortable for work hdhdHDHD (or a type of sandal)
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cocoacake · a month ago
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u just told sam he’s somehow cuter today
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