#I WANT to be bigger but the comments on being small is addictive

[snarlingteeth]

Forgot how addictive it is

To be told I am small

Wrap your hand around my wrist

Your arms around my waist

“You’re tiny”

I know

Keep saying it

[beatrixstonehill2]

"So.... you guys probably figured out what's going on by now," Sophie, who normally had a really soft, light voice, spoke in a raspy boyish voice. "Since my friend Laura tagged me in that video last week where you can hear me talk, and you can see my huge bulge in my shorts, I had my leg up and one of my balls was visible. Yes, they're really that big now, like the size of my fist! And yes, I don't bother shaving them.... Everyone in the comments was going crazy wondering what happened to me. My keener fans noticed I stopped talking in my videos a few months ago and have only been recording them like this, from my hips up....." Sophie shook her breasts, giggled in her cracked, masculine-sounding voice, repositioning herself, sitting further back, revealing her panties were totally incapable of hiding her genitals, wedged between her fully revealed cock and one of her rather hairy testicles. Her cock wasn't even erect and it must have been a foot long, swollen, thick as her forearm.

"Tada! Look at this monster cock I've grown." Sophie patted one her engorged balls, rubbing it. "And these babies are flooding my body with so much wonderful testosterone, it's enough to make a girl wanna drop everything and start being a boy! Sooo..... what happened, you might be asking. I know, I was super popular on Instagram, had a modeling deal and all that stuff. Since I went on blockers in junior high and started estrogen by my teens, my cock was really small. My balls, no lie, were like the size of marbles. They were so tiny and puny..... So I could hide my genitals really easily and look just like any other girl, even in a bikini. At most I'd use a little body tape to keep myself from getting little two-inch erections around all the other sexy girls in bikinis, with their big bouncy tits, their round preggo bellies, and goddddd I am so happy fat asses are in style now. Every girl is trying to outdo their friends and have the biggest ass of the group..... girls are either super thick and curvy or just really fat now and I'm definitely not complaining......

Well, my friend Jackie is dating a woman named Vallery, and they wanted to have kids. They couldn't decide who would carry the babies so they said screw it and both wanted to be knocked up. They came to me and told me they love my features, like my eyes and lips, and would be thrilled to have their daughters grow breasts as big as mine, and I've got the hips and one of the fattest asses of my friends' group.... They asked me to impregnate them. I told them my sperm count was pretty much zilch and they asked oh so nicely if I could go off my hrt for a month or two and try after that? I figured what could be the harm? My body took this opportunity to completely undo my transition. It's crazy how fast my body jumped through male puberty, and I'm still seeing new changes constantly, six months down the line.

By the time Jackie and Vallery wanted me to knock them up, my voice was already cracking, my cock was eight inches, and my balls were about the size of eggs. They still had so much growing to do, and I hope they keep getting bigger, I'm obsessed with my enormous cock and balls, how totally impossible they are to hide. How everyone knows when I'm horny, because this huge thing gets so big and erect, throbbing against my clothes, needing to be buried in whatever cute girl is making it so hard. Needless to say I topped Jackie and Vallery and got them very pregnant.... both with triplets! Not too bad for a former estrogen-addicted fakegirl. It's so incredible seeing Jackie and Vallery get so big and pregnant with my kids! I miiiight've knocked up a few more of my friends.... er, all of them. Some a teensy bit against their will, but they're elated to be knocked up now, and a slave to my growing cock.

It's getting too much to keep up with shaving my face and boobs and ass constantly, so as of today I'm stopping and just embracing being totally male, as I've always been.... just a silly fakegirl in denial. It doesn't matter if I've got a pretty voice and huge titties, wide hips and a big booty..... I still had constant fantasies about fucking all the girls around me who supported me as one of them, not knowing I'd go home and rub my pathetic little 'clit', fantasizing about raping them and getting them too pregnant to go about their lives normally. Silly, stupid fakegirl, always a month or two away from fully detransitioning if she forgot her fake hormones. What normal girl does that happen to? No real girl has to take estrogen or else she'll grow a horse cock and a gross set of balls so big I'm having trouble walking normal, let alone sitting. I literally have to spread my legs and basically 'present' my genitals just to sit in public. Everyone has to know what a horny, perverted guy I am, everywhere I go.

This'll be the last time you see me shaved, looking fem. I'm getting rid of my boobs next week, finally no more embarrassing, fat jiggly tits making me dysphoric no matter what tops I wear. They were fun while they lasted, and part of me will miss the constant attention and groping.... But now I'll walk around topless, my chest muscular and hairy. I'll wear pants and shorts that flaunt my huge cock. I can't wait to strut around the local parks and beaches finding pretty girls to knock up, and my fill of already massively pregnant girls who are simply to big to get away or resist my cock and receive a nice reward of cum filling their holes to the point that they overflow and leak the whole way home, so people know they're filthy little sluts who might as well be wearing a sign that says 'Free Use!' Oh well...... sorry to everyone who loved seeing me as a busty fakegirl with a fat ass who loved to party, suck cock and get ass fucked all night on TikTok. I hope you'll keep following me, and watch me knock up and fill the holes of as many girls as I can. Won't that be fun?"

[diejager]

i saw the comments in one of the monster fics and if youre up to it- monster feast/mukbang with eldritch horror reader??? love you!!!

Finally, someone who wants to see as much blood and gore as me!!!! Muhahahahhahaha

Cw: cannibalism, gore, blood, horror, eldritch!reader, tell me if I kissed any.

It had lingered on your mind for the past months, an itch at the back of your mind whenever you ate. You remembered their curious glances, watching the black ichor pool at your feet, cold and potent in both strength and poison. It was brought back whenever you gorged on any kind of meat, teeth carving through hard flesh and pulling the fibers apart, strings of ligaments curling in your maw as you suckled on the blood, rich with flavour and filling with life. 

You knew the telltale signs of curiosity flash in their eyes, the flicker of hunger for the thick musk of power that clung to Eldritch flesh, the smell of drool pooling under their tongues and the tenseness in their shoulders. Unmoving and still as they watched you devour a young and inexperienced God in it’s strive to conquer, but you were more powerful, more knowing and more terrifying. You were simply more.

Then - you questioned if the enemy was as stupid as it was, to slave another Eldritch God to do their bidding, or were smart, had learned from their mistake and found someone more knowing - a city dwelling Horror appeared, a big rat-faced creature with puss and rot bubbling on the skin where matted fur and branching arms didn’t cover. You stepped into it’s domain, trampling in and announcing your darkened presence to it’s ravaging mind, a psyche fractured into hundreds in a body of one, each limbs moving with it’s own intention. They, you thought, a being deserving of being called a king with the strength and knowledge it wielded —a worthy enemy. 

You bled and bled them, returning every wound with another one until it eventually fell, it’s smell heady, driving you to the point of near famine, drool rolling down your beak as you crawled to it. You ripped into their puss filled flesh, pulling at the tender muscles and sweet fat that covered the lining of their bones, breaking bones under your claws to suckle on the healthy marrow and carved the organs out for the thickness of it. You tried to keep your feeding contained within a certain perimeter, your fight costing the city damage and the few lives you couldn’t protect from the erratic swing of the king’s many arms —or at least tried with your hunger driven mind.

“Crow.”

And you remembered the interest Ghost and König held for Eldritch meat, drawn in by the age of it, the power it held within every sinewy fiber of flesh and hard bones. You scoured the large body for a cleaner part, cutting away pieces of untainted meat, portions big enough to fill their stomach for a few days, but small enough to not dive them into madness. You let out a rumble, body shuddering and feather ruffling with it, a sound of approval toward both men.

Your tail curled around them when they stood by your feet, looking at both through a single beady eye, blinking owlishly while you appraised them for their fearlessness towards the unknown meat you had placed before them. Ghost had been faster in his consumption, his smoke drowning the king’s fat in his mass. He trembled, feet unsteady with every step he took, his body shook with the power that coursed through him from the feeding. A natural reaction to his first bite, while less common than in the past, you remembered reacting the same when you first tasted the flesh of your kind, the lingering adrenaline that mingled with newly acquired power, pumped through your body in a rush of energy. It was addicting.

König seemed to take it… more enthusiastically, lurching forward after his first bite, diving in with intent to take a bigger bite, making a mess of him and the ground he stood. You nearly preened at the bloody grin he sent you, eyes blown wide like he was in a high, drunk off the king’s strength even after their death. Such high could drive a man insane, corrupting a being’s conscience with madness, near crazed. You wouldn’t let that happen, you’d seen so many succumb to it, but with you by their side, none would die such a harrowing death. 

Taglist: @warenai @capricorn-anon @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @mxblobby @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[pedgito]

thinking about eddie munson and how he would definitely have a thing for auralism and an unhealthy addiction with phone sex (18+ content)

he never understood why visuals didn’t do much for him. it was the he didn’t appreciate it, he loved seeing you—whether it was across the hall at school, sitting passenger seat in his van, or underneath him in the late hours of the night, looking as beautiful as you always did, even deep in the state of sated arousal.

but he couldn’t explain why sound did more, it never made sense. and for a while it made eddie think something was wrong with him, noticing the cryptic look on your face when he’d close his eyes or bury his face into your neck—it was overwhelming sometimes, the mix of both, so he tries to focus on one or the other, the privilege of listening to you always winning out the other.

it isn’t just you either—it’s everything else too. music, your voice—your moans were a privilege, a sign that eddie was doing his job and doing it well, but the sound of your wetness, the slap of his thighs against the back of your ass, the slide of skin against skin and the ungodly squelch the combination of you two made after eddie has already came deep inside of you, chasing after for seconds.

and eddie loves calling you late nights when he can’t see you, pestering you sweetly over the phone until you relent and press your hands beyond the waistband of your underwear, putting on a perfect show for him. it’s nearly every evening now, sometimes mornings too.

“are you home alone?” eddie asks softly, the shift of him moving his clothes aside heard from his end.

“mmm, yeah, i am.” you respond lazily, eyes flicking toward your locked doors, “how was the campaign?”

“don’t wanna talk about that,” he responds openly, seemingly frustrated, “are you already touching yourself?”

you laugh softly at his impatience, fingers sliding through your folds carefully, “maybe,” you respond cheekily, “are you?”

“yeah, yeah—“ he sighs, groaning as he squeezed at the head of his cock, “fuck, i really need this tonight.”

“i can come over,” you offer lightly, fingers tracing along your entrance and over your clit, featherlight, “i don’t mind.”

“no,” he shakes his head despite you being able to see, “just—just need this, wanna hear you. please?”

you whine softly as your apply a delicate pressure to your clit, “talk to me?”

“how was your night?” eddie asks jokingly, causing you to laugh—and surprisingly, it’s on of his favorite sounds. it sends a tingle throughout him, feeling the ache grow in his stomach as his hand slides along his shaft, forcing a breath from his chest.

“hmm, how dirty,” you comment, “it was fine, boring without you.”

“yeah?” eddie asks, intrigued like a puppy, his voice raising in subtle excitement, “boring how?”

“could’ve had you here, inside me—“ you sigh dramatically, voice catching as you dipped a finger inside of you, “but, guess i’ll just have to settle for this.”

eddie laughs deeply, “yeah, i’m betting those fingers don’t fill you out as good as i do.”

“not a—not a chance,” your stutter, using the wetness to drag over your clit, rubbing in small, precise circles, “so much bigger, fuck—can never get as deep as you.”

eddie’s silent for a moment, listening to the uptick in your moans, grunting as he squeezes at the base, staving off his own quickly approaching orgasm, the pent up frustration from the day finally catching up to him.

“shit—yeah, s’never as good as the real thing,” eddie admits, “those sweet little sounds you make, saying all kinds of dirty things into my mouth,” you moan at that, face heating up in arousal,”—fuck, let me hear it, sweetheart. what are you thinking?”

“thinking about your cock in my mouth, actually,” you tell him, his breath quickening on the other end as he gasped—his hand was moving furiously, his bed creaking from the exertion, “is that what you want, eddie?”

eddie’s response is a strained groan, focusing on the delicate lilts of your voice, how airy you sound close to orgasm, “i know how much you like to force me to take all of you until i’m begging you to let up, how much you get off on feeling yourself press against the back of my throat—is that what you need?”

“uh huh,” eddie replies absentmindedly, feeling his balls tighten up almost painfully, “fuck—“

“are you gonna beg, eddie?” you tease, face scrunching up as that familiar feeling builds, body feeling light, “be a good boy and ask, yeah?”

and eddie plays into it every time, “please, baby?” he says softly, “can’t take it—i need it so bad.”

“say it,” you remind him, trying desperately to keep your own release at bay, needing it to be fair, “i wanna hear it.”

“fuck—can i come?” he asks, jaw slack as his thrusts into his own hand faltered, “please, i don’t think i can—“

“yes, yes—god, please—“ you find yourself begging too, for no apparent reason, moaning out raggedly as you finger drags over your clit furiously, bringing you to your own orgasm as eddie falls victim to his own, grunting loudly into the receiver.

and usually you’re not as noisy when you come, but you play it up for eddie, his breathing heavy as he works himself through it until he’s quiet on the other end.

“god, i love you.”

you snort softly, “i know, i love you too.”

there’s a beat of silence as eddie moves around to clean himself up.

“can i call you in the morning?” eddie asks hopefully, implications already there.

“do you even have to ask?” you respond with a smile that eddie can’t see, but by your tone, he knows it’s there.

“seemed pretty adamant about asking a minute ago.”

he wasn’t wrong, forcing the smile into in a knowing smirk, “it’s not my fault you liked to be bossed around.”

“only when it’s you.” he replies honestly, sound more relieved that when you answered the phone originally.

“you can,” you clarify, “but i’d much rather see you in person.”

“i’ll see what i can do.” eddie teases.

it doesn’t surprise you when he crawls through your window before the sun has even risen—and eddie can’t remember the last time he’s ever woken up that early, but for you, it’s worth it.

[hologramcowboy]

This was JA in the beginning of this year's JIB and then last weekend:

You know how HIGHLY critical I am of him, how much I dislike many of his actions and opinions since SPN ended, and mostly how much he hurt Jared and tried to smear his reputation during his TW's promo tour with small comments that could have been taken to a bigger scale than they were - thank God that dint happen.

But on a human level, why is nobody helping this man? Are only you and me seeing how unhappy he is? Like if fans can see, why his family and friends cannot? Or if they do, why don't they interfere? It goes beyond him "getting a new face" every 6 months. Most of his acting has become soulless, the passion he seemed to have for music is gone as well. His alcohol intake - to me - works like a clutch / a tool he overuses to make things bearable. The way he has been marketing himself is so insincere, artificial and plastic. Almost like he thinks all he has to offer now is his looks.

I don't want to be alarmist, cause , then again, I am a stranger to him and my perceptions could be entirely wrong, but Its just that my empathetic side can't help to pick up on all of this and be sad for him.

This is not an ask per se, just me talking to somebody who I know cares about him beyond his physical appearance. You don't need to answer publicly or even in private if it gets to heavy for you cause I know you're a sensitive person (totally using sensitive in a good, human, healthy way here).

Also, I noticed you're been here less, I hope everything is okay with you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I wonder the same. I see so many posts of people drooling over pictures where Jensen looks soulless, disconnected and clearly suffering. Can they really not get over his looks just once to see the human behind them? He is spiraling more and more and not having a job seems to be detrimental to his well being. The person I judge the most in this is Danneel, she's just like those obsessed fangirls who objectify him, she seems to be highly out of touch with his emotional make-up.

It also seems Jensen has somewhat alienated his family in favor of Elta's and that worries me deeply. I hope a friend of family member will interveve since it's clear Danneel could care less. Jensen is a father so I hope he finds his balance soon because his addictions are bound to affect his relationships.

@unabashedlyinlove sending love right back! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[diaperedfitzypoo]

So I love looking at all the beautiful women/ ABDL/Diapered women! I love the ones who mess and look so cute and comfortable in their diaper!

I guess you can say I'm addicted to it. So bad I use to have over 6000 screen shots saved...😒😬🫨😓 I'm only a shamed of the fact I am taking up so much space with nonsense I can pretty much look at any time.

I see so many of the same pictures over and over. Other people re posting pictures I seen back in the late 90s, when it was hardly a known fetish. The early 2000s... or even reposting other people's pictures on here...

I feel like I have seen a majority of ABDL photos throughout the years...

Point being saving screen shots is pointless and a qast of data and space...

Not to mention incriminating to my personal life.

I just got a new phone and I'm not taking any screen shots. I'm done with it! I won't post other people's pictures from their profile no matter how much I love them!

I need to communicate and message the beautiful women who post on here that I follow.

I'm pretty shy and am nervous, I feel like a weirdo or a perv when I try to comment, so I just try to compliment and be brief.

Sometimes I really wish I could really open up and talk to a real AB women or just a DL.

Not a mommy! I don't know how many ti.es I need to post saying this! NOT LOOKING FOR A FAKE ASS MOMMY! YOU ALL WHO TRY TO FOLLOW ME AND TRY TO MESSAGE ME, NONE OF YOU HAVE BEEN REAL. You might actually want to be an abdl mommy but you all are scam artists. I'm not paying for some one who lives across the USA in far different states to pretend to be a mommy and tell me what to do.

I'm not a full-time diaper wearer, even tho I really widh i could be! I'm very personable about my fettish. Only maybe 8 or 9 people I know personally know about my fetish, and none of them really say anything or judge me. They realized how upset I get when they put me on blast in front of people. Like I'm supposed to admit, I like wearing diapers to the general public? No! That's the worst ever because I know just about everyone around everywhere I have lived.

Trinity County Northern California is a small place where all my family live, and everyone knows everyone literally.

Klamath Falls Oregon also small town where everyone around would judge you and talk crap.

Eugen Oregon was a much bigger place where I would have loved to be diapered in public. I'd definitely go out in public there in a diaper. I'd go not as a sissy or a big baby boy, but I'd go out in a big, thick diapered butt and plastic covers in public. That would be fun to do every once in a while. Too bad I never got to be my weird self in one of the weirdest places in the USA. Eugene Oregon is one of my favorite places I have ever lived. Even tho I was homeless while I lived there and stayed at the mission. It was an experience to be a part of for sure. I recommend any ABDL to go there at least for a vacation and stay diapered the whole time. I guess that on my bucket list to go back and experience the city being a part of the weirdness and to embrace the weirdness that is Eugene Oregon

Sacramento California/ Davis California

Sacramento is one where I did go out diapered in public a few times, but it was nerv wracking, especially North Sacramento I didn't ever wear a diaper out in public, I'd get shot for being a weirdo white guy. Downtown Sacramento around the state Capitol building, I'd go diapered under my pants or shorts out in public, but there are stranger people walking around, like furries in full costumes, around in the day. That would be embarrassing. But I give them props they are much more brave than I.

Davis California is a popping college town just southwest of Sacramento. It's known for its university, UC Davis. It's a pretty town I went around in a diaper a few times. I went out to a bar diapered one night with my best friend. He had no idea I was wearing abwet soaked diaper almost the whole time. I was hoping that a kinky collage girl would notice my bulging bum or even my piss soaked front. But no one noticed. With that, tho I was actually relieved because I didn't want my best friend to know about my fetish. He might know about it. IDK if he ever found out or if he knows that this fetishism exists.

Last is Lake Havasu City Arizona

Lake Havasu is the hottest city in the USA, FACTS! I went to high school here. I moved back here for a job that I have had for two years, I loved that job. The best job I have ever had in my life. I got paid what I was worth there. I was making great money. However, that ended quite abruptly. I'm still struggling from that loss. I have lived in a few places out here and had lost them due to bad alcoholic roommates, both the places I lived . The first place I lived was with my old best friend from high school and his budy Corey, who had issues with me. He had control issues and was jealous of my relationship with my old best friend. Now my old best friend knows that I love diapers and I would order lots of ABDL stuff. Like different types of diapers, I only drempt of wearing and using. Baby cloths. Ckear Plastic diaper cover, a few passifiers, and a footie that is way too hot to wear here, but it's so comfy to wear three diapers all at once and my plastic cover. I'd wear them around the house. It's the only time where I felt completely comfortable in my diapers, completely diapered around my roommates. The roommates Corey and his gf didn't care or make fun of me. In fact, Corey's girlfriend was supportive about my fetish and thought it was kinda cute. They would bring my packages in for me. But after we had a falling out, I had to move out. I became homeless.

Here, I am now living on the streets of the hottest city in the USA, struggling to find work and some stability. I just want to live a normal life.

So, my next place I'm aiming to move to is Las Vegas Nevada. Where there are lots of opportunities for work. I have old friends that live there that I want to be around. Lots of good music, great shows to go to, concerts that I'll not miss ever again! But most of all, I have a new girlfriend. I just started dating, kinda... we have known each other since high school, so over 20 years we have known each other, we went to our first big metal show together. It was epic! Her and I talk about that concert all the time since we have reconnected. She is the first girlfriend I have had in around 6 or 7 years, and I'm stoked about having her say yes to being mine. She has already told me one of her kinks she wants to be pinned down by me aggressively and for me to have my way with her. She said she knows it's a fucked up fantasy to want to feel like she's being forced to do whatever I want to her to do. She wants to feel abused and used. It's her fantasy who am I to say no, I won't do that for her. I absolutely aim to please my partner. I don't get off unless they do. Unless diapers are involved. Then I cum a lot in my diapers. But that fun won't come for a while. I want to be sure that I have her full trust, and I hers before I attempt to let her see me in a diaper or even tell her about it. I might start much smaller of a fetish like start with pee. I'd like her to piss all over me. From there, we can move on to diapers. I'm going to make her my dream baby's girl, 100% she will like it eventually. She is already ready to do kinky things with me. I'm looking forward to building our relationship.

Also, living in Vegas will be cool as hell because I can go out diapered in public 100%. No nervousness what so ever. I'm really, really looking forward to going out at night fully diapered, maybe even wearing multiple diapers all at once out down the strip with plastic covers, maybe. Unfortunately, the adult diaper store, I was just informed the other day that it's getting closed down...😭🥺😭🥺😭😣😖🤧😭🤧🥺🥺😭 waaaahhhh, that was number one on my ABDL bucket list. Now it's going to be closed by the time I save up money to move up to Las Vegas. Sad days🥺😭🤧🥺😫😭🥺🤧

I hope my girlfriend likes them the same way as I do, or Is willing to try to like them. Atleast for me.

I'm not into men in any way!

All my photos on my simple page on here are actually me.

It seems abdl men love my photos, fine I'm glad to share and that some people like them. Man or woman.

But I like women!

So, on this last note, please any woman who might actually read my post... I'm really an ass person, and I want to talk to real people.

Thanks for reading this I hope it reaches the right people.

[faerieflwr42]

Rant

Ok so I really just need to get my emotions and thoughts out on this one and my notes app isn’t cutting it so here I am. I really want to do recovery in a sense. I’m hungry and want to be able to eat food. But I’m so addicted to loosing the weight. I love that I’m the same weight as I was when I was half a foot shorter and I love looking smaller. I would rather people worry about me for being smaller than bigger. I have an appointment on Friday but i feel like I’m not sick enough. I told my mom that I was struggling and that it was pointing to things like possibly ana and I got completely brushed off and told that I can’t self diagnose and that I’m wrong. I’m underweight and keep loosing and I feel like I can’t start trying to recover now cause otherwise I reallyyyy won’t be taken serious. But I also am in such a difficult spot with my sports because it requires lots of muscle but I feel like I’m shamed for being fat when I have had muscle even when I’d normally be considered skinny. Im at such a hard dilemma because i want to be skinny, I want to stop having people comment on my legs even when it’s supposed to be a compliment, i want to be known as the small person, but at the same time my mental health is declining so much and I’m irritated all the time and can’t do the things I need for my sports. I want help but feel like I’m not taken seriously and not even the doctor will and the only chance of help is the make myself as bad off as I can until then.

I also have my bday in a couple days and just want to be able to eat and not purge or feel awful afterwards :(

[punk-ballerina]

I’m doing this cause I’m bored and sick at home lol. I’m gonna try to do it all tonight lol. I kno that’s not how ur supposed to do it.

1. Hight: 5’9, CW: 232, SW: 244, GW: 150 , UGW: 100-115 (whatever I look best at mostly, I’d be happy at 120, but I don’t think that’s gonna be small enough. It’s not rly about numbers so much as aesthetics for me)

2. I’m 5’9. Yes, I like my height, but a lot of the dudes where I live say I’m way too tall to be attractive. No taste.

3.

I like her slender and elegant body, but she still looks strong enough to seriously injure a misogynist lol.

4. I’m scared my hair will fall out, which is important since I’m queer and all the homosexuals like fluffy hair. I’m scared about loose skin cause I have a high sw. I’m scared I won’t be strong anymore, which is smthn I take great pride in, and I’m scared about brain fog cause my grades are super important to me.

5. I’m losing weight because I want to be beautiful, and I want to be able to have a shot at the ballet industry. I think I’m doing it mostly for me, but a lot of it is for social acceptance.

6. I binge rly bad. I think it’s because healthy food takes forever to prepare, but also, I’ve been diagnosed with BED.

7. The know I’m trying to lose weight, but they don’t know I’m Ana.

8. I don’t actually do a specific one atm. I burn about 3500 kcals by just existing, cause im a rly active person. I want to start tho, cause ballets off rn. Comment any ideas that you think I should try!!!

9. No, not really.

10. Sugar and carbs. They’re sooo addictive lol.

11. Right now this second it’s @hellokittybubble, because I saw a list of tips on their page. Idk if it was theirs originally, but they have a lot of good stuff on their blog lol.

12. Mostly I just binge honestly. But when I’m actually doing good I eat fruit and fiber 1 bars lol.

13. A mix honestly lol

14. My ugw is somewhere at a weight I feel hot at. It’ll probably be around 115 I think. I’m planning on reaching it by this time next year.

15. I’m not either cause my family rly like meat. I’d love to go vegan someday tho, not just for the weightloss benefits lol, I rly care about animals

16. I’ve wanted to lose weight since I was about 10

17. I’ve been diagnosed with BED and body dysmorphia. I think I’m ana, but I don’t have a medical diagnosis

18. My biggest weakness is mac n cheese or ice cream lol.

19. The last time I ate fast food was a couple months ago, which is pretty good considering I work at a fast food place

20. Im doing the abc at the moment with one of my buddies ( dm me if u want to be buddies, I like friends!!!). It’s going pretty well. I honestly absolutely love all those themed diets tho. It’s so cute.

21. Fun question. I wear a large if we’re being technical lol. Me personally, the bigger the better tho. I will wear 3x and no one can stop me. I want to be able to fit an xs.

22. I don’t rly have a lowest weight, I’ve always been kinda fat.

23. Yes and no. I wanted to be muscular for a long time so that I could look like black widow, but I can’t look like her and do ballet. Her story was DEEPLY inaccurate lol. She’s still beautiful and my role model tho.

24. I don’t rly have opinions on them. I’m using the tags for this so I guess I like them.

25. I’ve tried to purge a bunch of times, starting when I was about 12. Ya gorl ain’t got a gag reflex tho lol.

26. Being beautiful and feeling good in my skin

27. Mostly I binge a lot lol. But when I do stay strong, grosspo and fantasizing about the future of being skinny helps a LOT

28. Sort of, but it’s not totally necessary for me, I mostly want a tiny stomach and waist and arms.

29. For everyone else, beauty comes from within, for me, beauty is being perfect.

30. 1. I was homeschooled for the first 16 years of my life 2. I want to be a tattoo artist and piercer or an esthetician OR something to do with film when I grow up, 3. I’m sick rn 4. I’ve been in ballet since I was six, 5. I was the first female wrestler at my highschool, but I got kicked off after 3 days cause of something to do with homeschooling lol, 6. I have orange hair, 7. I love art, 8. I’m obsessed with the pirate core aesthetic and dream of dressing like that irl someday, 9. I’m in theatre (shocking I know) 10. I’m a makeup addict

Sorry if it kinda sucks lol, I was rly bored and there’s no way I could remember to do it 30 days in a row. If anyone wants a friend pls dm me!!! I’m down to talk about pretty much anything even tho this is a pr0 Ana blog!!

Blessed be

[liseytopia]

liseyyyyy can u plssss write more jake fluff🥹 like jake n reader cuddling after a stressful day ahhh

- gray aka sh4wty18 💌

OF COURSE PRINCESS<3333 anything for you my LOVE and PRIDE in this universe.. 😈 (im so sorry.)

coffee .ᐟ

summary: overworking yourself is never a good thing. sometimes it can be hard to slow down and take time for yourself, but your boyfriend is there to help you.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

contents: tooth rotting fluff, comfort teddy bear jake, reader is implied to work as an influencer

warnings: mentions of stress / anxiety, not proofread

wc: 0.8k

an: title by beabadoobee n fic very loosely based off the song<3 i'm so sorry it took ten decades and it still ended up being short ;( i'll make it up to u lovie xx

"water? coffee? tea? anything at all?"

jake's voice rang out from the kitchen while you were sitting criss-crossed on the couch, your work laptop rested on a pillow on your lap as you clicked away on the keyboard.

there was no response from you. you weren't trying to ignore him— you were just too distracted with the video you were editing.

"you want me to order us some food?"

he tried once more to get your attention. it concerned him, to say the least, watching you slowly drain yourself to whatever was on your computer screen. you were sure that there was nobody else in the world who cared so much for you as jake did.

again, no response from you— only a faint shake of your head when jake turned your way to sit next to you on the couch.

he glanced over at your screen as you continued editing; trimming down clips and adding text and audios. this was one of your bigger projects that you were working on, and you set a deadline to upload it by next week.

a week sounded like a long time in peripheral, but you knew that time flew by in the blink of an eye.

therefore, you'd been stressing yourself out every day since. there was quite a bit you completed, but there was still so much to be done— and you weren't going to take that risk.

jake tried to take a different approach at getting your attention.. getting your attention away from the screen, that is. he was subtly trying to stop you from overworking yourself.

"watcha working on?" he leaned in a little closer to you, noticing the way your fingers glided over the touchpad and keys.

without taking your eyes off the screen, you gave a blank answer, "just my new video."

"hmm. i see," he hummed in response, looking up to your face. it made him sad, you looked so tired, and something in him told him that he wasn't just going to let you waste away like that.

he subtly reached for your hand, taking it off the computer before shutting the lid and moving it off your lap.

you looked at him confused with your eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't seem to mind, at least you finally had an expression on your face.

"jake, what was that fo—"

"c'mere."

he opened his arms with a stern yet soft expression. with a quick glance up and down his body, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his torso, immediately being addicted to the feeling like every other time.

he held you gently against his chest, his own arms around your back as he lowered his head onto yours, rubbing your back with one of his ring-cladded hands. it's like with one simple motion, he could make all your problems disappear.

your body went limp, tired from all the pressure you'd put on yourself, but jake was there for you. and he always tried to be whenever you needed him.

"you okay?" he asked softly, a small smile on his lips as he pulled back slightly to see your face.

you nodded with a hum and gave a weak smile back.

jake pulled you back into his chest, his arms caging you to him. "you really gotta stop doing this to yourself, y'know," he commented and continued rubbing your back.

you didn't answer again, but he didn't mind as long as he knew you were listening.

one swift motion and he lifted you up off the couch, supporting you with his hands under your thighs as you clung to him like your life depended on it. he carried you up the stairs slowly as to not drop you, turned into the first room down the hall— jake's bedroom, and kicked the door shut behind him.

you giggled quietly and rolled over onto your side as he laid you down on the bed. he gave you a look, but not a dirty look. it was a look that you were used to getting from him by now. it was a glint of adoration in his eyes that showed he just couldn't get enough of you.

he slid his rings off onto his nightstand and took off his spiked wrist-cuffs before climbing into bed with you, pulling the sheets over your body to make sure you were cozy, how you liked it.

you didn't think to care about editing that video anymore.. how could you with the arms around your body and the palpable love emitting from both of you?

jake pulled you close to him, your back to his chest and holding you tight. "i love you," he muttered, planting a compassionate kiss on the top of your head.

and finally, one of the few words you spoke that night— you whispered back, "love y' too."

if u enjoyed, please feel free to like, reblog or leave a comment! only kind comments and actual constructive criticism will be tolerated <3

check out my masterlist for more! :3

ʚ © this subject is copyright to liseytopia. : do not copy, translate, or steal my writing. ɞ

[bigwishes]

I hear there are wishes being granted? But granting basic wishes all day must be a bit exhausting, so I am here with a fun challenge to hopefully spice up your day!

I want to see how big you can make me. I have always dreamed of being one of those mountains of muscle on the Mr. Olympia stage, but just know that if I ever got to that point, it wouldn’t be enough and I would want more. So I’m hoping your magic may be able to help me fulfill that wish while pushing the limits of magic as well.

Genie. I wish to be as big and muscular as your magic can possibly make me be.

So you wanna be big, You wanna be as big as my magic can possibly make you well sure. Simple as can be. Of course I'm not going to sit here for the next god knows how long to listen to you go "mm maybe 20 pounds more" or decide when you go too big. So you get a wonderful muscle growth curse, basically what you asked for it is my magic after all. So enjoy your journey, getting a little bigger every day.

After your first day you were ripped. A gorgeous stud absolutely ripped to the yards. You are absolutely irresistible, even to yourself as you spent almost the entire night after your first transformation pumping your own dick and moaning. Rubbing your body worshipping yourself but as hot as you look now you can't wait to get bigger, can't wait for the curse to really kick in.

You won't up in the morning feeling sore, like every muscle in your body had been torn thousands of times in just a few hours. You got up from your bed and looked at yourself in the mirror.

"fuck, I'm so much bigger than I was yesterday, this body its..."

You rub you hands all over yourself, enjoying every bump and swelled muscle. Each muscle you moved was tight and tense like you had never taken a rest day in years of working your whole body.

"fuck how good would I look with a pump?" you questioned biting your lip. You'd fuck yourself if you could, maybe that'll be your next wish, for a clone.

You closed your eyes rubbing your body, worshipping yourself, maybe you'd workout tomorrow, start chasing a pump to see how good you'd look swollen out.

A few days had gone by and you'd swollen bigger than any bloke you've ever seen. You had the bright idea of starting a tinder profile to and start dating, you'd have guys crawling all over you. Problem was you'd have to update your profile twice a day. Once when you woke up to your new size and a second time after your work out. Turns out once you gained a pump it wouldn't go down and it felt incredible.

You can't fucking wait to get bigger, so much bigger, you thought of maybe wishing for the curse to act twice as fast, or maybe even be twice as fast and twice as strong.

A few guys had commented that your head was starting to look small compared to your body. One bloke said how shrunken you must be down stairs from roid usage but it hadn't shrunk at all, or at least you were pretty sure it hadn't. You couldn't see it like you used to from the size of your pecs, and your hands had gotten so massive you could crush your dick if you weren't careful...but still there was no doubt in your mind, you were excited for more size, you were pretty sure...90% sure.

It hadn't even been a fully 2 weeks and you had grown into a monster. You were out of breath simply from moving your hulking frame, You wanted to stop working out, stop chasing the pump, slow down the growth but you couldn't. It was so addicting, lifting as many plates as the bar would hold, feeling the straining blood filled pump turn to solid muscle mass moments later, originally it would leave you smirking for an hour, now its just a brief second of joy before you realise what you'd done.

You see your phone vibrate on the bench. You waddled your hulking frame and struggled to bend to pick it up. Just a mere few steps and you were having to take a break to catch your breath. Picking up your phone your eyes lit up, a message from a bodybuilder you'd been chatting with.

"so...you just keep getting bigger?"

"yeah bro, I know its weird but it was a wish"

"I believe you, I saw you a few days ago haha"

"so...what do you think about being offical? fancy waking up on a bigger chest each day 😉"

"sorry bro, you were hot, and kept getting hotter, the size was great but now, now you look way too roided out for me"

"Its not roids though it magic"

"yeah I know but you look way too roided and you're gonna get bigger I don't know if I can be with a guy who could crush my spine if he rolls over in his sleep"

You chucked your phone down back on the bench waddling back to the dumbbells, you picked them up and started pumping your muscle, feeling yourself growing larger and larger. You were happy to stay this big, maybe even 20 pounds larger, but...when was it going to end...would it end....were you happy like this? with each curl you whispered to your reflection.

"I wish I was 20 pounds smaller, I wish the growth would stop, I..." but sorry mate, now you're in for a real treat, you've hit the point where a few more pounds aren't going to be noticed, no, now your growth is going to get so much better, or worse depending on your outlook. Tomorrow you'll wake up 300 pounds heavier, and the next day, and the next until that won't be noticed and you'll be gaining 500 a day. This won't ever stop, you wanted to be as big as my magic can make you well there is no limit to how big I can make you. You're going to regret the wording on that wish mate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Morphs used by MAX MORPHS: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/maxmorphs Rene1morphs: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/rene1morphs

[frenziedslashers]

"I wish you would write a fic where" Michael's SO makes him try energy drinks 😭

Sorry this got lost in my drafts 😭 but I LOVE this idea so much, it makes me snicker lmao I have only ever had energy drinks once in my life, and I drank like 4 monsters in the span of two hours and was practically vibrating, and crashed SUPER hard later, so that's the reaction I gave Michael, because idk any other reactions/feelings to the drinks, personally.

OG Michaels S/O makes him try Engery Drinks:

Michael stared down at the can that you had placed in front of him, a small smile on your lips while you watched him. When he looked up and saw the mischievous grin on your face he was even more hesitant to try out your energy drink. "C'mon, Mikey, it tastes good. Might even help you with that pout on your face." You teased, which you knew was dangerous, but it also challenged him, and he hated being challenged.

He shot you a glare, reaching out for the can with a sharp sigh. This was ridiculous, why was he even agreeing to this. He hardly enjoyed soda, why would he enjoy this? But, he guessed if it would get you to stop pestering him, and it would make you happy. Then maybe it was worth it. He looked over the can once more before raising it to his nose. Giving it a testing sniff before looking at you with a brow raised. "Go on, try it. You literally watched me take a drink of it before. If I was going to poison you, why would I poison myself, too?" He tried to fight back the chuckle that threaten to escape his lips, but he failed. A soft, airy laugh passing them. Watching as your smile grew.

He brought the can to his lips, finally. Taking a rather large swig. Furrowing his brows at the taste of it. It was sweet, maybe even a little acidic tasting. Though he wasn't sure if it was because the only sweets he really had was candy and juice, or the fact that maybe the drink itself was acidic. He didn't really mind it, though. Shrugging his shoulders, pretending it was nothing great, though you may have just given him a new addiction.

A few days later you found that half of your drinks were gone, and Michael wasn't home. You didn't question it, thinking maybe you had drank them and didn't remember, but when Michael came back, covered in blood. With less energy than you'd ever seen him with, you knew he drank them. he drank too many, and now he was crashing.

"How many of these did you drink?" You asked him when you caught him stripping from his mask and coveralls down into his clothes underneath them. Piling the bloodstained fabric onto the ground while he crawled into bed. He looked like a zombie, with his slow and staggery movements. Or like he was drunk. He only grunted at your question, burying his face in his pillow with a sigh.

You moved onto the bed beside him with a sigh, shoving his side a bit. "If you drink too many you might die, you know that, right?" He didn't respond, he didn't have the energy to even turn and glare at you. You drank a lot, why couldn't he? He was bigger than you, and nothing ever seemed to bother him this much. "They can give you a heart attack," You told him, giggling when he shoved you further away from him. Obviously wanting you to shut up. You laid down beside him with a sigh. Reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. Watching as he turned his head to look at you. A tired glare on his face. He didn't have the energy to stop you, though. The feeling of your fingers gently running through his hair lulling him to sleep. He'd deal with you in the morning. If he had to, he'd stay out all day to avoid your comments, if he could even bring himself to wake up.

[gremlintheslut]

Forever theirs

Part one

Series master list

Don't reupload, translate or do anything like that without permission from me

words 1105.

18+ read at your own risk w

Warnings: breaking and entering, smut, fingering, clit stimulation, orgasm denial, noncon (technically), watching without consent. Fem and afab reader

Summary

An incubus by the name of fin Balor pops into y/n life. She doesn't accept his advances afraid he would be like the last one that she knew.

-----------------------------------------

The walk home from work feels longer every time. no matter how many new shortcuts I find. I try to focus on the fact that soon I'll be able to take my heels off and put my feet up, instead of the fact my legs are killing me.

I turn right, into an alley I recently started using as a shortcut. As I do I walk straight into someone. "sorry" I apologize instantly. "it's alright I wasn't looking where I was going" I hear his Irish voice reply as he helps me up. I thank him for helping me and continue to walk.

The next five minutes feel like hours. I finally see my home from the end of the street. I let out a small sigh of relief to myself as I approach. The last few weeks have been hell. My bitch of a co-worker just got promoted to manager so she is my boss now. Said boss has been on my ass ever since she got the position. Not to mention the shit ton of family stuff going on that she thinks is her business.

Every time I walk into work a second late she makes a snarky comment about how she doesn't blame me for being late with 'everything going on.' Cunt. she does it in front of everyone as well. Oh, and some of the other bitches there think it's okay to laugh when she does it. I swear to god the next time she pulls that shit I am going to rip those cheap ass hair extensions off of her head.

Finally home I take my shoes off followed by my coat. I don't bother to put them away properly. I'll do it tomorrow. "you should really shut your windows all the way when you're not home" the same Irish voice from before say from across the room.

I am understandably terrified. I take a step back wondering if I could unlock and open the door quickly enough. Would I be able to outrun him? I watch him as he puts something down on my table. "I get that you're scared but there's no need to be," he says calmly. "I think there fucking is. There's a man I don't know in my house" I say hoping he didn't hear my voice tremble.

"sweetheart I'm an incubus I can assure you, there won't be a scratch left on you unless you want" he replies quickly. I've had sex with an incubus before. Edge. He was addictive like a drug. I relied on him after a while and he left I can't let that happen again. "my job is to give relief to those drowning in stress" he explains. Drowning in stress. "I'm not drowning in stress," I say slightly offended. "so it's a no?" he asks. "it's a no," I say flatly. "my card is on the table for when you come around," he said before turning around walking away but as soon as I blink he disappeared.

What a wild fucking day. I pick the card up. It reads at the very top in slightly bigger writing than the rest 'Finn Balor' and underneath "say it three times to get your wish" for a moment I want to test it out but the thought of the awkward conversation that would come after made me seal my mouth.

I walk to my room and change into my pj's I put the card on my nightstand and try to sleep. But, he was right. I am drowning in stress. No the relief he's offering won't pay my bills. I roll over and get comfy. My eyes never opened so I completely missed the man sitting in my desk chair watching me though it wasn't Finn.

I wake up the next day and do the same thing. Brush teeth, change clothes, brush hair, makeup, shoes, consider throwing my phone away to avoid the hundreds of missed calls from my dad, go to work, go home, cry in the shower, and sleep. Except I am woken in the middle of the night to a hand roaming up and down my body. My heart starts to pound as I pretend to sleep.

"I know your awake princess" I hear the man's Irish voice say. "I thought you'd go away when I said no" I comment. "no I can come and go as I please I just can't make you cum without you saying yes," he says before kissing my neck. His hand is dangerously close to my pussy now. He pulls my legs open slightly before sliding his hand under my PJs and into my panties. I whimper. "my, my, for someone who said no you sure are wet," he says mockingly. I can't help it he sounds so hot.

His fingers creep up to my clit and begin to rub small slow circles around it. I let out an unholy sound and he chuckles. Should I say yes? No, no I can't do that again. He can't stay forever I learned that the hard way. What if I just don't rely on him? No, I'll end up doing it anyway. Without warning his fingers enter me and his thumb continues to rub circles on my clit. I let out the most pornographic sound yet.

He sets a brutal pace. Between my moaning and gasping, I can hear the sound of my Juices on his fingers. Fuck. I'm already addicted. No, I can fight it. He hasn't given me relief yet and I already never want him to leave my side. I have to destroy that card when he leaves I think as the knot in my stomach gets tighter and tighter.

I'm clenching around him and bucking my hips up. But then he pulls away. I whine at the loss of contact. "say yes" he says I remain quiet. If it wasn't so dark I'm sure I'd be able to see the disappointed look on his face. The knot in my stomach is completely gone.

He kisses me and the cheek and I feel the warm presence next to me vanish. If I wasn't so focused on him maybe I would have seen the tall woman at the end of my bed watching us that disappeared with him. I roll onto my side and try my best not to feel sad or upset in any way about not getting relief or about edges abrupt leave.

I close my eyes and drift off into a dreamless sleep. No dream is better than one about either of the men I fell asleep thinking about.

-----------------------------------------

Thank you for reading my schedule for this series is on the master list -gremlin

[hotch-stufff]

hello, can I request an au where the team teases the reader because she likes Gibbs a lot and Gibbs do flirt with her... like pure teasing in the au... just the team teasing them both MANY TIMES, ALL THE TIME and reader getting all shy and blushing every time ... and Gibbs just smirking...

Blushing

gif by lucifersagents

Paring: Gibbs x Reader

Warnings!: flirting, a curse word or two, kissing, literally a bunch of fluff tho, and Gibbs being cocky ofc

Description: Gibbs decides to flirt a little, how were you supposed to know he was being serious?

------------

You had a problem.

Not really a problem, more like an inconvenience.

But it caused problems. You tended to blush, a lot. And when people discovered this, they would try and make you blush, a lot.

One of these people happened to be Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and he, being the cocky man he is, began flirting with you just to see that blush.

This was an even bigger problem because you liked Gibbs. Like a lot. You were probably in love with him at this point. He was just so ... so Gibbs. There weren't really words to describe the man. But he was driving you crazy with the flirting.

And boy did it happen a lot. On cases, in the office, in his basment, just about eveywhere.

Dinozzo and Ziva thought it was the funniest thing. Probably because the comments were so out of character for Gibbs, and because they definitely knew that you liked him.

But when he made one of those stupid comments your face would turn bright red, and Gibbs would get this stupid smirk like he had accomplished something. Which of course led the team to believe he liked you back and you would get the brute end of all the teasing.

Of course, you never thought anything of his flirting. You simply thought it was to mess with you, to find some amusement during the long days you all spent hunting serial killers.

What you didn't know was that he meant every word he said. Every innocent little flirt that would bring out the pink dust that appeared across your cheeks.

* * *

One day in particular he was very persistent.

"Mornin gorgeous." He spoke as he walked through the bullpen. Of course, you knew he was talking to you, so you glanced up rolling your eyes, blushing hard. He looked so good today, although he looked good just about every day.

"Morning Gibbs." You muttered. Barely even 9 am and he's already starting.

"I dunno how ya always looks so pretty Y/n." You looked at him, bewildered, because this was by far the most confident he had been. Usually it was a subtle little comment. Every now and then. You continued to stare at the man bewildered.

But when he caught your eye, he winked at you. The man FUCKING WINKED at you. You were sure your face was beat red at this point.

He turned around like he hadn't said a word, leaving you to calm yourself and try and get your face to look somewhat normal before everyone filed in the room. Of course there was no getting rid of that stupid red blush. Especially since the man you were practically in love with, just said those, those things to you.

"Already started Gibbs? And I missed it!?" Dinozzo says as he walks past your desk. You simply rolled your eyes again. Usually you would let the comment go, but you decided to say something back.

"Oh shut up Dinozzo. You're just jealous he isn't flirting with you." You aren't sure where this new found confidence came from, but you definitely appreciated it. Not only does it get a laugh from Gibbs, but also McGee and Ziva who had just entered the room.

Ziva sent you a look, shooting a glance at Gibbs as her own smirk adorned her face. She raised her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner, causing your blush to deepen. But you had just shut up Dinozzo, and that is no small feat.

Feeling very proud of yourself, you glance at Gibbs, only to duck your head again when you saw that stupid smirk. You knew what was coming.

"Well Y/l/n, quite confident are we?" He paused, probably to prepare you for his next words. "It's hot." Aaaand here comes the blush. Shyly, you ducked your head for the millionth time that day, and avoided all eyes. Snickering was heard across the room and you are 100 percent sure if you glanced up there would be...

That.

Stupid.

Smirk.

God that smirk was starting to do things to you. If Gibbs kept going like he was for the rest of the day, you might just have to die from embarrassment or waltz over and kiss the man.

The latter was looking more appealing at the moment. And as soon as Gibbs left the room, the teasing began. The constant teasing from Dinozzo about how you should make a move already.

You again told them he didn't feel the same as he gave you a disbelieving look.

"Sure Y/l/n, if you say so." And the conversation moved on.

* * *

A week or two passed and the comments were getting scarce, one or two a day. He hadn't ambushed you like he had that morning in a while.

And you hated the disappointed feeling you got.

You didn't really appreciate the flirting in front of other people, and the constant blushing was annoying yeah, plus the teasin from the team got on your nerves, but you liked the idea of Gibbs flirting with you. And you liked Gibbs.

Maybe he liked you too?

No, that's stupid.

It was just innocent flirting. He didn't mean anything, right?

You decided that you desperately needed to know. You decided to find out right then. You got in your car at 10 pm and drove to his house, finding him in his basement.

He heard you come down, and as soon as you stepped off the last step, his eyes dragged up and down your body, making you feel hot all over.

He was checking you out. And he wasn't very subtle about it.

"What can I do for ya ... bueatiful." Here we go.

"I wanted to talk to you." You spoke out meekly. Your voice quiet.

"Oh? Just talk?" He asked slyly, his eyes telling you a whole story.

"Y-yes." He noticed your nervousness and a look of concern flashed across his face. He knew you would get shy when he flirted, never nervous. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Your next words took him a bit by surprise. "Why do you flirt with me?"

He looked rather shocked for a moment before recovering.

"Why?" Was his only response.

"I just wanna know. Does it mean anything?" He wanted to say no. That it didn't mean anything. Just to see you blush. That was why he did it. Thats how it started anyways. But then he got addicted to that blush. He fell in love with your adorable blush.

"Yes." Your cheeks tinted and you smiled.

"Well then. Are you going to just talk?"you asked, referencing to his earlier words. And there was the smirk. That handsome smirk you had no doubt fallen for.

One moment he was standing next to his boat and the next he was kissing you fiercer than you though possible. Brushing strands of hair from your face, he deepened the kiss, his tounge fighting against yours. You whined into his mouth, causing him to smile against your lips. He broke away only when the need for air became too strong.

"I love ya." He pecked your lips. "Georgous." You giggled shaking your head.

"I love you too. But you know what I love even more." This was gonna be a long shot. But you had to see if it would work. He looked at you confused, tilting his head adorably. You paused for only a second longer. "Your ass."

And his cheeks tinted bright red, as you smirked.

Now you knew exactly why he had done it so damn much.

------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[morganaspendragonss]

wip wednesday!

from an addiction related fic based on the comments that we'll get an episode with carlos finding out what it really means to be with an addict. i don't actually like this first section much, but it's all i have so far so here you go:

At 2pm exactly, TK pushes away from the table. He’s barely touched his food, and since Carlos doubts he had a chance to eat anything on the plane, his concern for his boyfriend—which was already in the stratosphere—hits a new peak.

He opens his mouth to respond, his only instinct right now being to never let TK out of his sight again, but TK interrupts him with a hand on top on his own.

“I’m fine,” he says, mustering a wan smile. “I just need a minute.”

He doesn’t give Carlos a chance to ask, as he immediately turns on his heel and disappears down the hallway. Carlos watches anxiously after him, and when he turns back to the table, he finds a similar expression on Owen’s face.

“Is it wrong that I’m a little glad we’re here right now?” Owen asks, still staring after TK.

Carlos is confused for a split second—surely the alternative is dying in a plane crash—but then he remembers: New York is an hour ahead. The funeral will have started, with three seats standing empty.

“I don’t think there’s any right or wrong way to feel about this,” he offers, and Owen hums and turns away from the door.

“If we were there…” He sighs and shakes his head, pushing some rice around his tray. “I don’t know. But we should be there. He needs closure.”

“You both do.”

Owen tips his head in acknowledgement, then looks up to meet Carlos’s gaze, something unreadable in his eyes. Carlos shifts in his seat uncomfortably, feeling like he’s being scrutinised in a way he hasn’t since he and TK first started dating. It’s like Owen’s searching for something, and once more he feels the forgotten yet still familiar fear of not being enough for Owen.

But, whatever it is, Owen must find it, as he nods and sends Carlos a small smile.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this,” he starts, glancing quickly back in the direction TK went, “and I know that you’ll do it anyway. But I’m asking you to watch out for TK for a while. He was always so close with Gwyn; she was there for him when I—when I left, and she was there when things got bad and I just didn’t want to see it. If it weren’t for Gwyn, we would have lost TK a long time ago.”

Owen pauses, his gaze going far away as he seems to get lost in the memories, and Carlos waits patiently for him to continue.

“I don’t know how much TK has told you,” he continues eventually, “and it’s not my place to say anything now. But keep an eye on him, please.”

Carlos nods and swallows past the lump in his throat, the weight of what this means coming down heavy on his shoulders. It’s not a burden, looking out for TK—he’ll always do it, and gladly, because that’s what being in a relationship is.

But this is different. No matter how similar, these words are more than the ones Owen said almost two years ago when Carlos turned from Officer Reyes to TK’s boyfriend.

This is… This is bigger. This is a baton being handed off; Owen putting his faith in Carlos with this part of TK, a part he clearly doesn’t trust to many people.

“Of course,” he says, making sure to emphasise the words as much as he can. Because this is important; Carlos owes it to both Owen and Gwyn to be sure. “And, for what it’s worth, I do know. He told me, so… So I know.”

Surprise flashes across Owen’s face, and then the look is back, staring right through to Carlos’s soul. But he comes to his conclusion quicker this time, his expression softening into a kind of sympathetic understanding.

“No, son,” he says, not unkindly. “I don’t think you do.”

And Carlos doesn’t have a chance to ask, because at that moment TK walks back into the room, his eyes more than a little red, and the conversation is abandoned.

[oyasuminto]

mayhaps m!kylar with a bully!fem!pc where our soft yandere boy finally snaps and drags the pc in the school closet nd,, breeds her? and as much as she hates to admit it she got addicted to his cock and keeps dragging him in the same closet for a quickie? 🥵👉👈

It’s just too easy to pick on that creep. He’s so tiny that she can lift him clear off the ground and slam him into lockers, he flinches at every sudden movement, and he’s such a fucking crybaby.

Some may call her cruel, a bully, and they certainly wouldn’t be wrong, but it’s not like Kylar doesn’t deserve it, especially after a pair of her underwear disappeared from her gym locker. She may not have solid proof that it was him, but who else would be creepy enough to steal a girl’s panties!?

The way he reacts when she teases him in other ways just cements it; he shudders if she gets a little too close while threatening him, just a brief flash of her panties leaves him awkwardly tugging his hoodie down.

God, he’s a loser.

Is she playing with fire? Perhaps, she’s heard stories about that little freak pulling knives, but he’s way too much of a coward to actually do anything.

Right?

She doesn’t even notice the storage closet opening, nor the small hand reaching out, until she’s grabbed and pulled with enough force to send her to the floor.

The freak is grinning as he pins her wrists in place and secures them with a zip tie. She could probably break through the cheap plastic with ease, but a slowly approaching headache and the glimpse of a knife make her reconsider.

He’s just trying to scare her. That’s it. He’ll wave that shitty little pocket knife around, act all big, and then run away all terrified.

Just like he always does.

She tenses when the metal blade is held just inches away from her throat.

“Y-You’re so mean to m-me,” he mutters, “but i-it’s okay, I can f-fix that...”

There’s a loud rip sound, followed by a sudden coldness on her pussy.

The remains of her panties are tossed into the corner of the closet, and it’s only then that the bully really notices the lack of light in Kylar’s wide eyes.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

She begins trembling and squeezes her thighs together, only for Kylar to pry them back apart and kneel between her legs, preventing her from trying again.

Kylar shushes her, two slender fingers forcing their way past her lips and pressing down on her tongue. “I n-need to teach you a le-lesson.”

He places his knife on the floor, blade still pointing towards her, and traces his now-free hand down her shaking body, over her breasts, stomach, and thighs, before finally dipping between and brushing against her pussy.

“You’re n-not a virgin, are you?” Kylar doesn’t wait for an answer before roughly thrusting a finger inside. “I’ve h-heard stories, seen t-things.”

She sniffles, trying to fight back tears. She can’t cry in front of the creep, can’t show him weakness. Maybe he’ll leave her alone if he realizes she won’t break.

“Still t-tight...” He’s talking to himself more-so than her, entirely enthralled in her pussy.

Christ, what a fucking virgin.

He withdraws his finger and licks it clean with a quiet moan. “...So sweet...”

With a lopsided grin, Kylar shoves his shorts down his thighs and pulls out his hardened cock, precum already leaking from the tip.

It’s bigger than she thought it would be.

The head of his cock rests against her pussy, threatening to penetrate.

He leans over her, forcing her knees against her chest and leaving her muscles burning. “Y-You’ll look beautiful f-full of my children.”

With that, he thrusts forwards, burying his entire cock inside of her.

Kylar’s movements are erratic, hips snapping against her ass as he watches every little change in her expression.

She hisses out something about it hurting, but the fingers in her mouth turn her words into nonsense gibberish. She doubts Kylar would care even if he could hear. The freak’s too far gone at this point.

His knife is still within his reach, one wrong move and the blade could end up buried in her chest. She wouldn’t put it past him, not when she’s realizing that the stories about him threatening people for the smallest things are all true.

Instead, she squeezes her eyes shut and pretends to be literally anywhere else. Pretends that Kylar isn’t whining and rutting against her.

But she can’t.

Every desperate thrust brings her crashing back down to Earth and slaps her with the reality that she’s trapped in a storage closet with some psychopath, one who seems intent on fucking his way into her womb, like some shitty hentai made for horny virgins who’ve never even seen a real pussy.

Of course he’d read that crap.

Her snarky thoughts are the only thing keeping her from breaking down, the sole thing keeping her sane.

“Gah!”

By some miracle, Kylar’s cock strikes that one bundle of nerves that has her seeing stars.

“Th-That feel good? Make...make that f-face again.”

He angles himself in just the right way to hit her g-spot again and again and again.

She can feel her eyes roll back and her body go limp. The sudden rush of pleasure mixing with fear and pain is too much for her brain to handle.

And her mind goes blank.

When she comes to, it’s just in time for Kylar to pull her down on his cock, allowing him to cum deep inside her pussy.

He’s breathing heavily as he straightens up and pulls out. It seems like only then that he realizes what he did.

“I’m...I’m sorry! P-Please don’t t-tell anyone!”

Then she’s alone.

She doesn’t even bother to clean the cum out of her pussy or check her locker for a spare pair of panties, instead heading straight to the school roof, where all the other delinquents hang out. Several of them notice how disheveled she is; hair tangled, shirt partially untucked, wrists bruised, gait awkward, but none comment on it.

Whitney looks her up and down with a snicker. “What? Did you get shagged on the way here?”

“Something like that,” she replies, snagging a cigarette from Whitney’s packet.

Whitney lightly shoves her and mutters something about owing them a smoke. She just gives a noncommittal grunt.

The next few days are unsettlingly normal, and she fucking hates it. As much as it disgusts her to admit it, Kylar hasn’t left her mind, and it’s not in that I’m-gonna-beat-the-fucking-shit-out-of-you way that she thinks about most perverts. She’s addicted, to that fucking freak’s cock. One rough fuck in a storage closet was all it took, and now she wants more. Just one problem;

Kylar’s back to running away with his tail between his legs.

She ends up having to threaten a few people to get him in the right place at the right time.

The greasy creep is trembling when she slams him into a wall, obviously expecting some kind of violent vengeance.

Instead, his lips are captured in a bruising kiss.

“You’re comin’ with me, freak.” Kylar doesn’t get a chance to respond before he’s being pulled by the collar of his shirt.

Any students present in the hall move out of the way, assuming that the resident outcast is about to get his ass beaten again.

She grins when Kylar is thrown on the closet floor, much like she had been. He’s whimpering, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

“Quit bitching,” she says, straddling the petite boy, “you’re gonna shut the fuck up and let me cum, got it?”

Kylar doesn’t resist when she pulls his cock out of his shorts, but his eyes do widen when she lifts her skirt to reveal a lack of panties.

“Not such a big fuckin’ man now, huh?” She spits into her hand and uses it to lubricate Kylar’s cock. “You’re some loser virgin! It’s not fuckin’ fair!”

Her head falls back as the loner’s cock finally slips inside of her. Kylar’s hips are already trying to hump upwards, but she holds them down.

“You’re my toy, that means I call the shots.”

Kylar ends up leaving the closet with a limp, a luminescent blush, and some very conflicted feelings.

It becomes a dirty little secret between the two of them. She makes it clear that Kylar’s body will never be found if he tells anyone, and there’s not a chance in hell that she’ll admit to becoming addicted to that fucking loser’s dick.

She has to keep up appearances, of course, so Kylar’s still being shoved around like always, but now there’s an added layer of sexual tension to everything she does, and Kylar knows that he’ll get to empty his balls in a warm, fertile pussy at some point that day.

It’s an odd dynamic, but it works.

[rocorambles]

Hit It Till It Breaks

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play

Prompt: Hard At Work

Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light. 

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.  

(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)

It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult. 

Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for! 

But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step. 

And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line. 

Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity. 

You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor. 

A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder. 

Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing. 

You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes. 

If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think. 

But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate. 

Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place. 

Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission. 

But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm? 

Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have? 

So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes. 

Or so you believe. 

You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds. 

There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods. 

It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path. 

“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.” 

Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.  

 You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers. 

“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.” 

You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd. 

But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants. 

You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place. 

It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable. 

And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…

 “So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”

 “Oye! Oikawa-”

“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”

There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face. 

Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you. 

You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right? 

Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.  

Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home. 

If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of. 

But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you. 

You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru. 

It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.  

So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries. 

And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.    

Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”. 

Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips. 

The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame. 

It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.  

Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing. 

When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch. 

You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”. 

It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four. 

But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting. 

And history repeats itself. Over and over again. 

Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you. 

Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock? 

And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.

You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint. 

Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of. 

Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy. 

Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases. 

“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.” 

He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with. 

But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it. 

“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him. 

It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you? 

But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use. 

So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose. 

Anything, huh? 

In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him. 

Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly. 

They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary. 

Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast. 

“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.” 

You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face. 

“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”

Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim. 

There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy. 

Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...

“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.” 

“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”

The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll. 

And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.

“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.”