Addictive By Truth Hurts Novels & Stories

She thoughts she has won because she shouted at him and filled his ears with rumours from jobless people who made gossiping their daily routine as if they will get millions of money or awards for each rumour they made. Rumours are true, people will not see a fire without smoke, they will never say what they didn't see or happened, the problem is they will add a huge portion of lies to it; five per cent of truths they saw or happened and ninety-five per cent of lies, big lies. And the strangest and funniest thing about rumours is that people tend to add their own exaggeration; lies as they gossipped or passed to another person, that person will add his/her own exaggeration; lies and passed to

All addictions are bad, Unless they give you a reason to live. All controls are good, Until they take away all your reasons to live. .....................................................

It's an addiction, my life now, no need to sugarcoat shit, I'm a stoner, a junkie, does life gets any better, or any worse? I'm so lonely right now it hurts. I crave legit acid. I love to hallucinate. I love to pretend. I love to dream. I love to live a lie which was what I'd been doing with Fiona and I's relationship, I mean how on Earth do you tell the girl you love that, how do you do it.

i hear the door barricaded and his footsteps growing near me and i close my eyes in fear, ready to be raped by this god again. i hear his shorts drop between his tanned, hair-speckled legs, he slaps his monster cock in his hand, the thick clap it emanates makes me feel it inside me already. i am ready. when you are first violated, you will want nothing more than to leave… to cry and scream… but after; you become addicted. addicted to the state of pain your aggressor inflicts upon you. addicted to the warmth of the cock ravaging your guts. addicted to the feeling of your cum-flooded insides. i will never be the man i once was; and i dont want to be ever again…

He added and I kept wiping at my cheeks, feeling the weakness take me in its hold, all of my energy getting depleted. "So, you are asking me if I liked it..." He shook his head, his tears falling down like mine, "I don't know, I don't know, I just know what they taught me, I just know pain, I just know I am addicted to it," He added, "And I know that I am so scared of what he said...I am so scared of doing it again because I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to hurt you ever again, I don't want to hurt Alex...I can't hurt him."

It's ridiculous the power that the other has over your thoughts and actions, ridiculous and scary, like a fucking addiction. Worse than nicotine and alcohol. The most vicious drug is unrequited feeling. You keep on loving even when it hurts, hurts, and hurts. There is no advertisement that warns you against love, much less a brochure informing you about the risks of falling in love. This drug makes you reclusive, mercilessly hostage and breaks you inside. Irremediable. No surgery. Addiction is something that has always been with me, Octávio probed about the subject in our first session and I almost said that it was an old subject and everything came from my maternal need. Well, that's what m

I got into my car and started the engine, the rumble of the powerful machine a familiar comfort. I drove without a destination, lost in my thoughts. I was a mess. A powerful, successful, utterly fucked up mess. I had everything I ever wanted, and yet… I felt empty. Because I knew the truth. I was playing a dangerous game. I was playing with fire, and I was going to get burned. But I couldn't stop myself. I was too far gone. I was addicted to Tristan. And that addiction was going to be the death of me. Or worse, the death of him.

But it was true. It was a curse I had nothing to do with but to accept. Someone had said the truth--The truth hurts. In fact, It kills you inside without even letting your screams reach out, without letting the pain creep out. It leaves the cracks everywhere that you can't mend and it slowly kills you inside until you can't feel yourself anymore.

Ricochet had always been the strongest drug—more addictive, and ten times harder to quit. I was yearning for the right touch, horny as fuck, fully aware that this holy creation of perfection was dragging me straight into breaking every promise I’d made to myself. And the worst part? I wanted to fall. I wanted the taste of whatever heaven he was about to take me. He grabbed my ankle, not rough, not forceful, but firm enough to make my breath hitch. His thumb stroked over the inside of my ankle slowly, lazily, like he had all the time in the world. The touch was light, but it sent heat crawling up my leg.

The destroyed expression she took on made Whitney’s plump lower lip tremble as she slowly began shaking her head from side to side. “N-no...H-Hollis? Whatever you’re about to say...I can fix this! Alright!??” If you let her in, she'll make you give us up again. What are you waiting for? DO IT so you can leave already. “I don’t think this is going to work out, Whitney. You’re right...I’m a fucking addict after it’s all said and done. I’ve lied and manipulated everyone around me for years. I don’t want you to get sucked down any more than you already have because of me. Look at you; You’re...like this great, grand painting...too good to be true. I want to be apart of your picture so bad, but I