#game of pricks - guided by voices

[dovemoulins]

roy And moss edit.... If u even care ..........

[rastronomicals]

3:38 AM EST November 6, 2024:

Guided by Voices - "Game Of Pricks" From the album Alien Lanes (April 18, 2000)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Lo-fi

[pepperss]

guided by voices // game of pricks

[tornbluefoamcouch]

Artista: Guided By Voices Álbum: Alien Lanes Ano: 1995 Faixas/Tempo: 28/41min Estilo: Alternative Rock/Power Pop/Slacker Rock Data de Execução: 06/05/2024 Nota: 7,0 Melhor Música: Game of Pricks

[bloody-fate]

I’ll climb up on the house

Weep to water the trees

And when you come calling me down I’ll put on my disease

[the-mystery-of-christ]

🌹😈🌹

[shysuccubusstuff]

day 25: Hate fucking + Deepthroat + Agoraphilia + Dacryphilia + Gaming + Degradation + (slight) Mindbreak + (slight) DubCon? - Streamer! Kinich

Summary: The streamer company you work for decided to throw a huge party in order to congratulate the great revenue of this year, inviting only the greatest. That included you, as well as that mysterious streamer called Pixel Dragon.

Content: Kinich has this kind of alter ego (Ajaw's personality) when he streams, that is the reason why he's extra mean!! + Non proof-reader, as always.

Word count: 4,5K

Note: I've been trying to end this for so many days but I always ended up burning out so it took me so much time... I didn't even realise that I had written 4K words... Sorry for taking so long, I hope all of you enjoyed this little Kinktober!! I'm already working on some other stuff for different fandoms ♡♡ Stay tuned!

It was November, finally the time in which the great parties for streamers took place. You had been invited, of course, after all, you had been able to remain the top creator during over five months, tightly followed by that gaming streamer, PixelDragon.

The name was a bit cringy, but he had been able to quickly rise to the high rankings thanks to his great skills on many of the different games he had tried, ranging from FPS to soul-like games.

When you finally arrived, you were greeted by the smiling sponsors, taking your hand and guiding you to the darkened room, the place being lightened by the dim red lights. You took a sit close to a masked man, the man moved to the side, allowing you to sit close to him while he checked his phone. You were barely able to imagine the face underneath, his lips shinning under the red lights.

“Are you going to drill my face the whole evening?” The man kept his gaze fixated on his screen, his fingers scrolling down mindlessly.

“How did you even---? Sorry, I was just curious about what you truly looked like under the mask.”

“Well, you are not definitely getting any glimpse if you keep it like this.” He turned off his phone, putting it on his pocket and looking into your eyes, his green orbs glistening as the spotlight moved towards where you were. Outraged, you decided to get up, rapidly taking your stuff before fleeting the scene.

By the time you were back to your usual self, the party had already reached its’ highest peak, with the music booming all over the place and the floor feeling sticky form all the drinks that had been spilled. You threw yourself against one of the many sofas that were laying around the place, suddenly hitting your head against something extremely hard. You turned around annoyed, only to find a red-faced man, his hazed green eyes shinning under the red lights of the club. “Are you ok?” Your words were a bit dragged, your whole mouth feeling a bit funny as you tried to talk as normal. “Do you hear me?” You screamed to his hear, perhaps he wasn’t answering because of the loud music. The man moved to the side, his face looking slightly annoyed.

“I can hear you perfectly, no need to scream.” He furrowed his eyebrows, moving a few strands of hair that were bothering him.

“Who are you? I didn’t see you before during the dinner.” You took out your phone, scanning through the many names of people that had been invited to the party. “I suppose you’re not the one called PixelDragon, am I right? God, that dude seems like such a prick, he’s always flexing about his skills during the collabs, even when we are supposed to be friendly about them, plus, he has been keeping his identity hidden even to his own workmates, I get that he wants to avoid leaks, but it’s not like the rest of us would be such losers, even I, who kind of hates his guts wouldn’t do something so fucking low. He always acts as if he’s far too good for the rest of us and it gets me so pissed off, though, I do have to say that he does have some good points, like his great abilities, or his deep voice, and yeah, his hands may look kind of sexy while smashing the buttons but that’s all, you know?” The alcohol was definitely getting the best of you, as you wouldn’t be able to stop your yapping even if you tried. “Are you listening to me, mister?”

“Yeah, I am. I hate to say it, but this might be a skill issue, like straight up.” The man laughed out-loud, his hand moving a few strands of his hair out of his face.

“Nice one, jackass, real funny. Anyways, how come I missed such a hot dude in the diner? You were def one of the masked ones, right? Promise I won’t leak anything, not like it would benefit me, you know?” You laid your head on one of his shoulders, turning around so you could touch the small part of his chest that was exposed because of his unbuttoned shirt. “Are you trynna get someone to accompany you tonight? You will def get a good one with me, handsome…” You smiled, enjoying how he started to react to your touch.

“You sure get comfortable with some random man, what if I’m some weird sicko that is planning on kidnapping you?” His right hand moved towards your hip, caressing it as his gaze started to darken.

“Then you wouldn’t be here, this place is exclusive for those working for our company, it’s ok, I can find some other dude, don’t wanna pressure you or anything, let’s see each other later, yeah? Next time you should tell me the name of your channel, we could make a collab or something!” You got up, leaving him with his words still in his mouth.

By the time you finally opened your eyes again, you were being taken by the arms of some random man, you quickly struggled, trying to get him to let you go, “Hey, don’t know who the fuck are you, but you’re def not someone I---”, the man put his hand on your mouth, turning on the flashlight on his phone so you could see his face, it was the hot dude at the party.

“Sorry, I saw some weird due trying to take you home, I know I can also be considered a weirdo, but hey, at least we talked, I guess, let me take you to your room, I won’t try anything weird, ok?” Your body relaxed, allowing him to carry your limp body to his room, finally allowing you to lay down on his king size bed.

“Thanks, hot stuff, promise I will compensate you tomorrow…” Just as you were about to drift to sleep, a known voice resonated from the man’s phone, it was that damn PixelDragon. Annoyed, you quickly got up, the nauseas getting to you, forcing you to stop for a second before speaking.

“Why are you listening to that jackass? He thinks he is some kind of big shot just cause the president started to pay more attention to him than to those who have been more time in the company. He may have nice hands and all, together with a real hot voice, but that is all that he has, he ain’t even that good, I mean---”

“You talk too much about him for you to simply hate him, aren’t you like lowkey wishing you knew how he looked? All your yapping about how he isn’t that huge of a streamer makes you seem even more of a fan than those crazy ones that send him his panties and stuff. Bet you want him to finger you with his slender fingers real bad, uh?” Your face flushed, feeling your head even more warm than before.

“You’re def projecting, I don’t want to fuck him or anything like that, why would I want that asshole’s fingers inside me—”

“Oh yeah? Then you will have no issue with that same asshole touching your whole body, uh? I’m sure that you have already imagined it so many fucking times. Tell me, are you really that naïve that you didn’t think eve for a moment that the man with the dragon-like mask was actually PixelDragon? It’s not like the mask that the president gave me was that mysterious, but I suppose that you can’t expect nothing great from an airhead like you, right?” The guy smiled as he started to change his clothes, leaving his jacket, gloves, and his necktie on top of the small desk that was within the room. “How about we do that collab that you wanted so much? Bet you would love to gain some more attention from my viewers, right? I can do a special live, just for you, what do you think?” You stopped for a moment, I mean, you were actually just a masked youtuber, and you were only focused on mature audiences, so, there should be no issue, right? You could probably use the mask he had used during the party. You nodded, crawling out of the bed and getting closer to the setup that he had already built for the duration of the event. “Oh, I forgot, can you plug in the cable under the table? I forgot to do it, but I have to keep on preparing the stream.” Once again, you were simply able to nod, getting on all fours and going under the table.

“Hey, there’s no plug missing or something like that, are you sure---?” You covered your mouth as soon as you heard the sound that marked the beginning of the live. You hit his leg, trying to remind him that you were still under the table, he lowered his gaze, trying to avoid making it much obvious. He smiled wickedly, moving one of his hands towards his trousers, carefully pulling down the zipper of his pants together with his underwear, the tip of his cock being left dangerously close to your mouth.

“So, yeah, we had a small gathering for the company, not that important, now it’s time to finally get back to what truly matters, am I right?” He read some of the comments that were already pilling up, answering with snarky comments to some, while he simply laughed to others. How was he even able to act as if he wasn’t with his cock out? A wicked idea crossed your mind, you could suddenly get out of there, making sure that the viewers were able to see you run out of frame, thus stealing his spotlight even further. That sounded like a great idea, of course, that changed until you realised that this little plan would lead to the boss yelling to both of you. Just as you were about to try and get out, his legs trapped you, causing you to end up almost hitting your face against the raging erection. “Oh guys, wait a sec, I gotta check that everything is in order.” He stopped the live for a second, making sure to disconnect the camera and mic. “Didn’t you want to make a collab?” Your face flushed, you weren’t really sure if it was because of how you felt your blood boiling, or maybe it had much more to do with the fact that his cock looked delicious, his tip flushed with a slight red tint. “If it’s too much for you, you can simply leave, I swear I won’t say anything to no one from the company, not like it would benefit me, right?” He moved to the side, allowing you to leave if you truly wanted to. You were about to do so, but then you realised something. Wasn’t that like admitting defeat against him? He would get the upper hand, making you feel as if you had to be grateful for his “mercy”! Not on your watch, oh no, so you swallowed all the embarrassment that you had been feeling, starting to leave small kisses all over his length. “I supposed so, oh wait, let me help you with a little something.” He got up from his chair, rummaging in his suitcase and then sitting back again, he made a sign for you to turn around, so you did, your ass facing his way. Suddenly, his slender fingers were moving your underwear to the side, a small object being inserted inside your cunt. “There, I hope this can keep my precious slut in place while I work, wait for me.” He waited for you to move back to your place, his eyes filled with a certain sense of superiority.

“Shut up, you’re just making it more difficult for me, keep your mouth shut for a while.” You nagged, trying your best not to stutter as you started to feel the small device starting to move. Just then, you heard how the live started back again.

“I’m back, missed me?” He went back to reading the comments with a playful smile. “Oh, shut up, not like I spent more than a few minutes. K, now let’s try to see who will be able to join the game….” He waited for a few minutes until the results of the online roulette popped up. “Well, congrats, I’ll send you the link to the VC, hope you all are ready.” You listened to him; it was quite impressive how he was able to keep his voice stable despite having your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. “Dude, it must be real sad to see me play almost everyday and most of you are still hard-stucks, sucks to be you, uh?” His snarky comment caused the viewers to get wild, some were praising his skills, while others had gotten truly angered by his remarks, the sound of the flow of comments filled the room. You were just about to smirk at how even his own fan hated him, but your moment of bliss was suddenly stopped as soon as you started to feel how the small vibrator had suddenly moved much more rapidly than before. You clenched the fabric of his shirt, glaring at his extremely satisfied grin. “Anyways, get ready for it, promise me not to cry in the chat, I don’t want my mods to get tired from deleting your comments.” As the game started, you could perfectly hear how he was clearly cleaning the floor with his viewers, this was of course the perfect time to mess him up, right? So you did.

You started to move your tongue, slowly licking on his tip, while sometimes wrapping it over his length, making sure to let out a few noises in case that would actually rile him up, your eyes completely fixed on his face, not noticing even a single frow. If he wanted to play hard to get, then you would simply raise the stakes. You introduced his tip into your mouth, sucking on it as you used one of your hands to masturbate what was still left outside. It was then when one of his eyebrows furrowed, his lips forming a straight line as he tried to keep his mouth closed as best as he could, you were already celebrating your victory over him when you heard the sound that marked the end of his first victory, your head suddenly being pushed further down.

“GGs, next time send someone who is at least as good as me while playing with a stirring wheel. Let’s for the next game, yeah? No need for a break.” The players were once again chosen at random, quickly preparing the next game as one of his hands kept pushing your head, only releasing it when the game finally started. Your eyes were already watering a bit from the difficulty to breath, so you decided to step your little game even more, starting to take his whole length (or at least as much as you were able to manage without feeling as if you were about to throw up. His face quickly flushed, the grip on the mouse starting to strengthen, his jaw clenching and his eyes starting to darken. Despite his clear reaction to you, he was shameless enough to start to buck his hips, forcing his length further inside your mouth, not stopping even as you hit his lower stomach, trying to get him to either slow down his rhythm, or to simply give you a small break. Sadly, none of the choices were given to you, forcing your poor mouth open, his hand sometimes lowering just to carefully caress your hair.

Once again, you were soon able to hear the chat being flooded by comments after the great crushing he had done to his helpless viewers. “I gotta go now, remember to keep on playing so you all can at least hit me with a single bullet next time. See ya.” He quickly turned off the stream, his hands quickly gripping your hair. “Bet you had fun, uh? Sucking my cock while you heard my chat blowing up, pretty sure you must have been wishing they heard you under my desk sucking my cock. You must be fucking dripping, uh? Show me just how much you’re craving it.” He lend you his hand to get up, your legs almost giving up on you as you tried to stand up, his lean arms stopping you from falling. “Oh, I was sure that you were supposed to hate me, didn’t expect you to be the type to fall head over heels, but I mean, who wouldn’t fall in love with someone as hot---” His sentence was cut short as soon as you hit him on the stomach with your elbow.

“What the heck is that attitude? You kept on pushing my head against you, next time I will just bite your fucking dick off, bet that would give you more action that you have ever had.” You wiped down your tears, together with the saliva that had been running down your chin. “Why the heck would you even have something so--.” You stopped before ending the sentence, wondering just what would happen if his ego got even bigger.

“So… what? Finish the sentence.” He playfully touched your hair, his big hands petting you as if you were something precious. The heat was starting to rise to your cheeks, so you hit his hand, your gaze moving towards his temporary set.

“What is the code for this mic, pretty sure it’s one of the most expensive ones, right? Bet you must be blowing up your checks uh?” You got close, tinkering a bit with his stuff, moving all that was lying on top of his desk and looking around in case you were able to find a single tip on how was he able to keep his skills on point,  “Man you’re really—”

“Look, I’ve been trying to just act as if nothing is going on, but come on, you’re so bad at acting it’s almost embarrassing. You always walk around with that huge smile on your lips, shaking your hips as if you were trying as hard as possible for all the people around you to lick you from head to toe… You enjoy the attention, right? It gets you so high to feel as if you are better than the rest. Never had anyone show you where you truly belong, guess it’s my duty to do it then.” He took you by the arm, throwing you to the bed with just enough strength for you not to damage yourself. He quickly got on top of you, his body pressing against you as his hands started to get rid of all your clothes, your blouse and your skirt being thrown to the floor, soon followed by your bra and your underwear. “Since you want to behave like a brat, might as well and treat you like one.” He suddenly kissed you, his kiss being filled with hunger, rather than love or lust, he was planning on eating you whole.

“Come on, you’re just saying that to scare me, right? There’s no need for that, just, just let me go for now, I can, I can talk to the boss, you’re just being like this because you’re trying so hard to scare me, I get it, no need to keep this any further, just---” You put your hands on his chest, trying your best to avoid his eyes as they scanned you up and down.

“Open your mouth.” Your sentence was once again cut off, the room being filled with the sound of his clothes falling to the ground close to yours. He crawled, swiftly making his way to your face, his hardened dick facing you. “Do you expect it to suck itself? Open.” He grabbed his cock with one of his hands, the tip of his cock rubbing against your soft lips. You silently opened your mouth, unable to think about anything smart to say because of the current situation. “That’s right, open wide.” He carefully inserted the tip of his cock in your mouth, a deep breath leaving his mouth from the pleasure. “God, you should really consider becoming my own if you decide to leave the YouTube thing… you have such a pretty face and your body is just perfect, I will treat you as a queen, how about it?” His voice kept resonating inside your head, almost sounding a bit too good to pass on it, well the vibrator that was still inside you was definitely not helping you to stay sane. You sank your nails into the palms of your hands, trying to keep your own mind together while he kept on thrusting your mouth. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me…” Tears once again swelled your eyes, your nails now digging on his abdomen as you tried to get him to let you rest even if it was or a second. “Oh, it seems you’re still able to put up a fight, let’s just change this then.” He finally let you breath, coughing as you were finally able to breath, this didn’t last much more, as you were suddenly lifted by him, then letting you sit on his lap, both of you facing the big mirror that was hanging on the wall. “You just need to realise what position are you on.” He lifted your body for a moment, taking off the vibrator, slowly inserting himself into you.

“Wait! I need a second to…to adjust, it’s difficult to do this without like, actually preparing.” You let him slowly make his way inside of you, finally bottoming out. “Fuck, just what do you even--- Shit…”

“Guess I was finally able to shut that reckless mouth of you, shouldn’t you thank me?” Of course, he just refused to give you even a single moment of peace, always running his mouth even as you were clearly able to feel his cock throbbing.

“Sure, like your dick isn’t barely holding on, you talk so much shit for someone who is balls deep inside me, I may not be able to kill you in the game, but I’m damn sure I will last much longer than your sorry excuse of a dic—” Your words were cut off as soon as he lifted you abruptly, your air leaving your lungs as his tip hit your cervix.

“You really don’t have any fucking clue about when to keep your mouth shut, uh? Always answering back even when I have the upper hand… Fuck.” His hips kept on bucking against you, not stopping even as the veins on his neck pumped up from his effort of not cumming. “This is no use, fuck…” He got up, not before taking the vibrator that had been inside you, his arms still holding you from under your thigs, walking until you were quite close to the mirror. “Look at your fucking face as I make you cum, yeah? Just fucking watch.” His hips started to move again, the position making it impossible for you to grip at anything in fear of him letting you fall, still, you tried to cover your mouth with both of your hands, denying him the possibility of hearing those sweet moans that were leaving your lips. “Cat got your tongue? You’re surprisingly quiet for someone as chatty as you, let’s see if I can fix that.” The rhythm of his thrusts sped up, forcing your eyes to roll to your skull as your insides got rearranged without you being able to do anything about it. Just as you were about to cry from the overstimulation, he suddenly let you stand on your two feet, well, if not because you almost fell face first to the floor, his hands gripped your hips with strength, his fingertips leaving marks on your skin. He took out the egg vibrator he had used previously, rubbing it a bit around your entrance before carefully inserting it inside you, he then decided to play with you a little by gliding his dick up and down, his tip constantly grinding against your clit. Before you were able to say anything, he entered you at once, the stretch making you squeal as your nails once again dug into his skin.

“Sure…Sure talk a lot of crap when you have still been unable to make me cum even once, your dick is so lame—” …Well, you surely had it coming this time, maybe the previous one as well, and well, maybe more times than just the last ones. But you never learnt, apparently.

“Fucking brat, just learn your position!” His last straw had been lost as soon as he saw on one of her streams you had been non-stop laughing at his supposedly small cock and your lack of bitches. He tightened his grip on your hips even further, lifting you from the floor and slamming his hips against your tender ass, your lips parting as those lewd sounds were once again filling the room.

“St-stop! My mind is turning really weird… Give me a second please!” You once again tried to hit him as an attempt to ease the unyielding rhythm he had established. He lowered one of his hands, suddenly levelling up the small roulette that controlled the vibrations, his fingers then moving on to start rubbing your clit, a degenerated smile appearing on his face as he saw your cunt dripping and some of the juices leaving your poor hole each time he slammed himself against you. Your vision was already starting to blurry a bit by the time you felt as if he was giving you even a tiny break, even the, it didn’t seem to have any plan of stopping, not even as you could faintly hear someone’s voice and hits on the wall from the close-by rooms.

You could clearly tell that he was about to cum, his lips bucking from time to time as he tried to keep that relentless rhythm. Just as you thought he was about to cum, he rapidly pulled out, his sperm staining your cheeks and part of your lower back. “You don’t even deserve my cum inside of you, next time you’ll learn how to keep your mouth shut, brat.” He let you down on top of the bed, walking towards one of the small doors that still concealed the rest of the room. Suddenly, he was back, a warm towel being passed around your whole body, his eyes showing a slight sign of concert. “…Name’s Kinich, I forgot to say it, I’m sorry.” …Was that brat really blushing? Fuck, even you were now flushed because of his teasing… Right?

[heavenlybodies333]

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned - T.R.

18+ !warnings! Heavy BDSM, dubcon, punishment, degradation, religious undertones, knife play, mind games, psychological manipulation.

Pairing: riddle x you

you've sinned, and now it's time to confess. kneeling before him, the air heavy with your guilt, you know Tom Riddle is no priest–but in his presence, it feels like salvation.

thank god for the sacrament of confession

The air inside the Room of Requirement is heavy, pulsing like a thing alive. It breathes with them, the thick scent of melted wax and charred parchment clinging to the walls. Tom watches from his chair, all sharp lines and coiled restraint, eyes darker than the void between stars.

You kneel before him, hands pressed together, lips parted in something between prayer and plea. Your breath stutters; you have always known the danger of speaking first.

"Confess," he commands, voice a low murmur, deceptively soft, the kind of sound that lures prey into a hunter’s waiting teeth.

Swallowing hard you say the beginning of your prayer. The prayer that Tom made you commit to memory, the black quill engraving it into your hand when you were punished for forgetting.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The words are foreign on your tongue, stolen from rituals meant for mercy, but there is no mercy here. Only the click of Tom’s fingers against the armrest, his patience a fraying thread.

"Speak."

You exhale shakily, the weight of your own desire pressing down on you like an iron shroud. "I touched myself thinking of you. Desired things I cannot name. I—"

"You disobeyed me." The accusation is weighted, curling with dark amusement, but there is no true humor in his eyes. Only the unrelenting gleam of possession. "You have defied me, haven't you?"

Your pulse is a war drum in your ears. "yes, my lord."

The title is deliberate, reverent in the filthiest way possible, and Tom knows it. A flicker of something dangerous crosses his face, his grip on the chair tightening. For a moment, you think he will strike you for the provocation.

"If you wish to sin," he muses, voice sinuous as shadow, "you’ll have to repent my love.”

"You will kneel, but not to pray." His thumb drags along your bottom lip, pressing down until you open for him, tongue darting out instinctively. His smirk is a slow, cruel thing. "You will learn what it means to be devout."

His grip tilts your chin higher, forcing you to look at him. "Should I gag you? You do have a habit of using that mouth improperly."

The thought has you but you shake your head. He hums, considering.

Your breath comes fast now, anticipation winding you tight. Tom steps back, a predator surveying his prey, his control a blade honed to a fine edge. Then, with measured intent, he unfastens his belt, unzipping his black pants allowing his cock to be set free.

You take him into your mouth, the weight of him an exquisite sin on your tongue, and the sound he makes is nothing short of wicked praise. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding, controlling, setting the pace as you take him all trying not to gag. His grip tightens, forcing you to take more, to push your limits.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, several streaming down your cheeks and Tom watches with rapt fascination, his breath sharp, his control fraying. "Look at you," he breathes, voice like velvet-draped steel. "I love it when you cry."

You hum around him in response, the vibration making him curse under his breath.

His rhythm falters, you can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as you suck faster and harder. Swirling your tongue, making sure to take him all. Hitting the back of your throat as you hold back a gag, he spills into your mouth, the taste of him thick, and sinful.

You swallow without hesitation, a final act of devotion, and when you open your mouth, tongue licking the remnants from your lips, his smirk is nothing short of victorious.

A flick of his wand causes a tight leather black collar to lock onto your neck. The metal from the binding on it cools against your flushed skin.

"I believe further penance is required."

His boot presses against your thigh, pushing your legs wider apart, his voice a whisper of malice. "Crawl."

You hesitate, fingers curling against the cold stone floor beneath you, pride flaring white-hot in your chest. You know better than to disobey, but the glint in his eyes makes you reckless.

His nostrils flare. The toe of his boot nudges your ribs, demanding compliance. "Would you rather be dragged, princess?"

You swallow back a whine as you weigh the consequence. Tom is a man who punishes resistance with cruelty draped in elegance, and it is that promise—razor-edged and intoxicating—that makes you yield.

Slowly, you slide to your hands and knees, the collar snug against your throat as you begin to crawl, the sound of your knees against stone reverberating in the silent chamber. His steps follow, patient, calculating, until the cold kiss of a blade—his blade—presses just beneath your chin.

You freeze.

"Tell me, my darling" he murmurs, his fingers curling into your hair, wrenching your head back to bare your throat to him. "Did you hesitate just to test me? To see how far your sins would take you?"

The blade tilts, pressing sharper into your flesh, not enough to cut—yet.

Your breath stutters. "I—"

He cuts you off pushing the knife further. "Lying will only make this worse for you."

The blade trails down, a slow, deliberate caress over your collarbone, the tip just barely tracing the swell of your breasts, your nipples hard, aching to be touched by him.

The dagger leaves your skin, only for the sharp crack of his palm to strike your cheek, wrenching your head to the side. The sting blossoms across your flesh, and your breath shudders out in a gasp.

Tom exhales slowly, as though savoring your reaction. "You will learn."

His wand flicks, and in an instant, the air shimmers—mirrors. The entire room is lined with them, reflections of yourself and him cast in infinite, inescapable repetitions.

Tom is watching you in all of them.

You swallow hard, heat curling in your stomach, burning in your cheeks.

Before you can react, the blade is back—pressing against your cheek, cool steel contrasting the heat of your flushed skin.

"Do you know," he muses, voice like a hymn, "what I find most delightful about suffering?" The dagger drags downward, its tip whispering along the curve of your throat, then lower, teasing just above your pounding heart. "It reveals the truth."

The blade traces lower.

"You will learn to crave your own ruin," Tom says, almost pitying. His free hand grips the back of your neck, forcing your gaze upward. The shadows of the room flicker, candlelight bouncing off polished glass—mirrors, countless of them, surrounding you, leaving nowhere to hide.

Your breath stutters. He sees your realization and smiles.

"Good," he praises, twisting your head toward your reflection. "Watch."

His wand moves, and the mirrors shift, angling to capture every inch of you—the trembling of your thighs, the way your skin prickles under his scrutiny.

The leather collar tightens as he pulls you up onto your knees, the dagger's tip pressing against the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

"Tell me," he murmurs against your ear, "is this why you misbehave? Do you long to be punished?"

Your chest heaves. "no—"

The knife slices—sharp, precise—a bead of crimson wells against the blade, and Tom watches, fascinated, as if your pain is a prayer, your submission a sacrament.

"Try again."

You swallow hard, watching yourself in the glass. Your own gaze is wide, pupils blown, body naked full of sin under the delicious threat of him.

"yes," you whisper.

The approval in his expression is fleeting before he grips your chin, forcing your reflection to hold your gaze.

"Then take your penance like the filthy sinner you are."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: part 1 of part 2!! sometimes I feel like some writes are better in two parts, like sometimes if its too long it gets repetitive but im excited to write pt 2. also if any writers ever need any inspo on like bdsm/smut terms there is an AMAZING reddit I found that has everything about everything lmk if you want the user!! I would post it but idk if shorty wants her business aired out like that lmao

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀ���ɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[ahhhwomen]

I don’t know why I bite.

Vampire Empire

Part 1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: We are going to ignore how long I disappeared, okay thank you. Also, y/n will not be in a proper relationship with the girls, she will very much be viewed and treated like a pet not a partner, but she will obvi still get the love.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death (later on)Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Your Master is a cruel woman, but you would never stand a chance against her, but what if they can?

Word Count: 3.5k

The keys jingle in a pattern.

With each step, the clash of metal calls out. It changes tune, depending on the day. If she’s tired, she drags her feet, it’s a slower melody. When she’s angry, there is a harshness to the smashing of the chain against her belt and a thud to her heavy boots.

You don’t know what her happy steps are, you think the sound would be smooth. Maybe, like she´s floating?

You wonder if you are ever going to hear it? If you are being honest with yourself, you don’t really know if you want to. At least her other behaviors are predictable, you can handle predictable, uncertainty however, that is an entirely different game. Not one you are very keen on playing.

Today, her steps boom like thunder, and her keys shriek like lighting.

Chills run down your spine; you press against the cold concrete wall. It scratches your skin. You press harder and cower closer.

You are shaking as she sweeps around the corner of your prison; she’s frowning today.

But…?

It hurts.

From yesterday. It still hurts.

She always gives you a day.

It still hurts.

You need a day.

It doesn't matter. You know you can’t stop it.

You close your eyes and submerge yourself in the void. You don’t like the dark, but she doesn't like it when you see.

Your cage opens with a shriek. You flinch as she touches your face, she is breathing down your neck and you feel yourself panic as she struggles with your collar.

It's never good when she takes away your collar.

Before you do something stupid, like fight back, a soothing voice guides you. It’s a whisper, that only you can hear. Drag in slow breaths, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Rinse and repeat. You do as they tell you.

You're in a sunflower field.

The heavy feeling in your stomach is from the big dinner you had, half an hour earlier.

The sun is setting, and you are smiling and laughing as you run through the field of flowers. They're ginormous, almost bigger than you. There is a weight to them as you push past. They scratch and irritate, but it's only temporary, so you keep laughing to yourself.

There is a whip to the wind, the sound loud and frightening. The flowers are louder, so you pretend not to hear. They rustle and dance in the harsh wind.

It's dark, but the yellow glow of plant life guides you. You don’t know where you are running to, maybe home, maybe the ocean. It matters not. You are happy, just you and the flowers.

When the wind calms and the sun peaks over the horizon you know it’s time to leave.

You trek through the soil and ignore the sharp stones that prick your pale skin, you wish you could stay, but it’s time to return.

You open your eyes when she leaves. She almost killed you today.

It's okay.

You deserved it.

Tomorrow, you rest.

Maybe.

Natasha smirks over the rim of her whisky glass. One would think the blonde would be professional after almost a century of doing business, yet she still stomps around like a child throwing a tantrum when she doesn't get it her way. The redhead almost feels bad for the poor pet that was going to be at the end of Carol's rath tonight, almost.

“Knock, knock.” Wanda stands in the doorway, her knuckles lightly tapping against the dark oak.

She’s dressed modern today. Her suit is fitted to perfection, it hugs her waist and expands her hips. She also went for a smokey makeup look, her eyeshadow a mix of dark brown and black, her lips a deep amber, just like her suit.

If attraction could kill Natasha would be one dead woman.

She smiles at her wife before signaling her in with a wave. She’s surprised to see Wanda, her wife comes by occasionally, and she has always dressed nicely, but this is new. Due to her desk stealing her view, Natasha can't see, but she can hear her wife's high heels as she passes through the threshold. Same color as the suit she imagines.  

“What brings you here?” Natasha questions as she pours her wife a drink.

Wanda settles herself in the plush chair in front of her wife before bothering to answer. “Do I need a reason lovely? Maybe I just want to see my beautiful wife in her place of work.” Wanda grins while the other redhead hands her a glass of whiskey. Neat, just how she likes it.

Natasha scans her wife with suspicion, she wants something. She can tell by the way Wanda leans her body slightly to the left while her lips lift into a flirtatious half-smirk.

The shorter redhead lifts her eyebrow. “As nice as that may be, why are you really here?”

Wanda deflates slightly at her wife’s accusatory tone. She is right, of course, but Wanda was hoping she could butter her up a little before getting to that. Wanda will have to ask her out on a date soon and make herself a little less predictable.

She is ashamed to say it's been a while since their last dinner date, or movie night for that matter. However, it's hard to find the time when you have been married since the eighteen hundreds, and you both work more than any human would be capable of.

Which brings her to her point.

Wanda pulls in a breath, “I want a pet.”

Before Natasha can get a word in Wanda continues to ramble all in the same breath, “And I know, I know, we have already gone over this. But I'm lonely. The business has been slow since the Stark clan agreed to our peace offering. And while you are busy here, I want someone to come home too.” Wanda keeps her tone open and light.

She wasn’t here to accuse her wife of not giving her enough attention, they both knew that their different work would keep them apart, but while Wanda would spend long nights in her home office, Natasha would spend them in her company office on the other side of the city.

Natasha drums her fingers sharply against her desk, she wants to shut the idea down immediately.

Having a frail human pet would mean having a weakness. Natasha knows her wife well. She knows her wife will get attached, and she knows it will never end well for either of them.

On the other hand, she understands her wife's needs. Natasha spends most of her days in the office, working to uphold their cover, while Wanda spends her days all over the city settling their other business. Their schedules never align either, Natasha works days, Wanda nights. She has to admit, it doesn't sound half bad to have someone to come home to the few nights she can afford it.

Wanda is waiting with bated breath as her wife concludes.

“You have already set up the meet, haven’t you?”

Wanda gapes slightly but conceals it before her wife sees. She knows her too well indeed.

She slumps into her chair, “Yes.” She lifts her finger to stop Natasha from commenting, “In my defense, I was coming here to get your approval.” Natasha chuckles to herself.

“And if you didn’t get it your way?”

Wanda smiles bashfully, “Then I would go without you.” Natasha has to blink away tears from how hard she laughs, she is gripping her stomach, wheezing while answering, “I would expect nothing less my love.” She rights her posture and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. She glances at her wife hiding her blush behind luscious red locks.

She can never say no to her.

Clapping her hands together, she responds. “Fine, you win.”

Wanda practically shines with mirth and joy, “But,” her companion eyes her carefully, nodding to confirm she´s listening. “I get to pick the name that goes on her collar.”

The other redhead huffs, “Fine, but it better not be something stupid.”

Natasha shrugs and her wife leans over the table to slap her shoulder in warning. Natasha smiles all the same and shakes her head, “Yeah, yeah, nothing dumb.” As much fun as she is having with this, she is a busy woman.

She runs her hands down her black suit, thinks of what paperwork to finish, and mumbles a question about when they need to leave while sorting through the latest update about their progress on Project X. Wanda, without missing a beat, states a simple, “Now.”

Nat drops her pen and pinches the skin between her eyebrows. Wanda shrugs half apologetically as Natasha fixes her with a hard glare.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grumbles a short, “Right, we better get going then.”

It's been almost a decade since she has set foot in one of these shitholes. Nothing has changed, the cages are just as small, and the odor stinks the same, alcohol, blood, and fear.

Wanda shifts uncomfortably as they wait for the salesman to get his spreadsheet, Natasha silently watches from the sideline as he sorts through a mess of paper and fast-food containers to find what he is looking for. She chastises Wanda for not finding a better establishment. Back in their time, this was the usual, but nowadays they have far better alternatives.

Wanda leans against Natasha to whisper, “It was the only place by a few miles Tash, and it’s the only place we have time for.” Natasha stays unimpressed. Wanda smirks at her wife and tucks a strand of loose hair behind the other redhead's ear before discreetly licking the shell of it and whispering sweetly, “I will make it up to you.” Natasha shivers under the attention and the salesman grunts a weak, “found it” before leading them into the main hall.

The ocean swishes in the background as you lie on your blue, shark-themed blanket in your modern bikini. The sun gleams over your head. Your skin stings and you shift onto your stomach, you must have forgotten sunscreen again.

Nonetheless, you purr under the shine of good weather; you wish you had taken a book with you. Maybe next time. For now, you stretch out and lay your bare arms against the warm sand. It will be stuck in every crevice, but it's nice.

A light breeze passes you.

You suck in a big breath, it burns, but you ignore it. It smells of salt and….. salt… and….?

Ice-cream.

It smells of salt and ice cream.

You think you may stay for a while today. You might visit tomorrow, but you would rather not.

If it doesn't burn too much, you hope to sleep tomorrow through. After all, if you are really lucky, you may not wake up again.

This place is even more depressing than Wanda had anticipated.

She and the other redhead had been to a similar place a few decades ago, but this was just sad. Not even the potent scent of blood can get her to ignore the uncomfortable sound of churning, empty, stomachs.

If they lived in a different city she would have taken her wife to a more humane operation, but with limited time comes limited opportunity.

The male and female sections are separate, in the left hall she can smell the odor of young men eager to please, while in this hall she can see the curious and smell the fearful. The gruff man showing them around had introduced them to a few pets by now, but she had to admit they were not what she was hoping for.

There had been one pet she took a slight liking to; a young woman, in her mid-twenties, she was in the puppy section, an enthusiastic little thing. But in the end, she was a little too pushy for Wanda’s liking, Natasha hadn’t seemed too keen either, so they left it there.

The kitten section wasn’t too bad, but every time she thought she was building a connection, Natasha would step into the pet's line of sight and they would cower away one by one. She knows her wife is putting on a stern face to test the poor little things, but it was starting to piss her off big time.

Wanda rolls her eyes as the feeble man struggles with yet another lock, she lifts her suit jacket and checks the expensive gold watch ticking away, fifteen more minutes or they will have to come back another time. Given that this was the only available time she and Nat had had in a few weeks the dire truth of not getting a pet today was settling in.

“Here she is, now she's not much to look at, but since you wanted to see them all,” the man shrugs and Wanda has half the mind to bite his head off. Before she can do anything of the sort Natasha takes her by surprise by stepping into the cage before her.

Nat ignores her wife as she steps into your cage, she has seen you before.

You were Carol's pet, or at least she thought you were. But it seems you were a less permanent part of the blonde’s life. Your cage was different, it was slightly bigger, the poorly dressed man had said something earlier about you being a leased pet.

You look horrible. She is studying you from a few feet away and she can still see the horrors you must have been through.

She knows Carol is violent, it's why she has spent so long trying to negotiate with blondie. Their clans were never on the same page and yes, threats were constantly made, but this was something else. Natasha would never think the pathetic woman would do this just because she could.

She hears Wanda step in and gasp at the sight of you.

You are lying on the hard floor with your back turned to them, a rag the size of a hand towel barely covering your bottom. Your hands are stretched out under the lamp, the only heat source you have, you have been beaten to a pulp. There are deep lacerations covering you, your entire body is one big bruise, and dried blood covers every crevice of both your skin and even part of the walls. But that was not what caught either of their attention, no, it was the lack of life they could sense from you.

Natasha kneels a few feet away from you and studies you carefully.  Her hand rests against her cheek as she tries to focus on your heartbeat. It beats, but there was something off about it. It's slow like you are asleep, but she can hear in your breathing that you are still conscious.

She tilts her head and talks off-handedly at the man behind her.

“Is she sick?” She hears him scoff but ignores it in favor of closing her eyes and trying to feel you.

“Of course not-“ He waves his hand, “all that,” he gestures at your body, “was her own fault.”

Before Natasha has time to reprimand the pig, she hears a crunch behind her followed by a heavy thud.

She huffs and raises herself slowly before opening her eyes and looking at her wife with her peripheral vision. “I thought we agreed to not kill anyone today.”

Wanda stares at her with empty eyes. “No. We agreed on not killing any innocent people tonight. As far as I am concerned, I am just following his logic, after all this was all his fault.” Wanda gestures at the dead man's body.

Natasha turns to her wife while rolling her eyes.

Wanda ignores her wife's sass and looks past her to take you in once more. “Who is she?”

Natasha shrugs and gazes at you over her shoulder. “She was Carol´s plaything, but I guess Carol never owned her like I thought.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise and stared at Nat, “That’s y/n?”. Her eyes move down to you again, “last time I saw her she sure as hell didn’t look like that.”

Natasha nods and crosses her arms in thought, “well it seems Carol is an even worse owner than she is a negotiator.”

The last time Wanda had seen you was when she joined one of Natasha’s meetings a few months ago, hell maybe it has been years by now, time becomes blurry when you are as old as them, you were a new thing back then. You had scars, but they were pink and healed, you were a skittish little thing, but you ate, you had some color to you, and you sure as hell didn’t feel like this.

You could feel their eyes all over your body. You hated it, you never liked it when people looked too hard or thought too long, it always meant the same thing. They were assessing whether or not you are a feasible option as a pet. You know you aren’t, you know they will scoff and turn their backs to you as if you disgust them, like you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.

You get it though, they are probably right.

Usually, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, you are used to it by now, but there was something about their scents that put you off, you felt out of place even more than usual, and you hated it.  

You were too focused on pretending to be asleep to assess what the heavy thud against the concrete could have been.

Whatever it was, must have had something breakable inside of it as you could hear a clear crack as something bounced off the floor. You decided you didn’t care, you only cared about the sudden voice that took over all the space of your enclosure. Powerful enough to command any and every room, you know this voice. It belongs to one Natasha Romanoff, and suddenly the voice behind her made sense too. You had only seen the redhead once, but you would remember her anywhere, just as commanding as her wife, and even more scary, Wanda Maximoff.

If you weren’t scared before, you were positively shitting your nonexistent pants now.

You try to keep your breathing even so as to not show any hint of awareness, you have no idea what they could be doing here. Had Master sent them? Were these the last moments you would have, were you going to die in this tiny, claustrophobic hellhole?

You were panicking, and you know they can sense it. Feel it. No matter how many times Master called you such, you weren’t an idiot. You know what they are, you know what they can do, what they will do.

As you hear one of them take a step closer you turn into a stiff board. You stay completely still as you feel your lungs start resisting the air you desperately try to force into them, you have this sudden need to flee or to bear your neck and beg for them to finish it quickly. Right after the thought passes your mind you shrink in shame, Master will kill you for ever thinking of bearing your neck to another.

You can hear them pause for a moment as you feel their eyes on you again. You have been made.

You don’t know what comes over you, you don’t know where you suddenly find the strength, but before you even know what you are doing you are leaping towards the women, your hands ready to claw out their eyes if need be.

You know they are stronger, faster, and smarter than you could ever wish to be, but this is a survival instinct, nothing makes sense, nothing matters. And as you collide into a warm body and start ripping into it, to the best of your ability, you realize, you have no idea what you are doing.

Natasha knew what you were about to do, possibly before you, and as you crashed into her and started scratching and ripping at anything you could get your hands on, she realized that maybe you still have a chance at this life. For the first time during their little visit, she can feel something in you, it’s small, scared, abused, but there is a will there, a will to live, a will to fight. That is more than most in this bleak city.

She holds you gently as you rip apart her coat, tear at her skin, and bite her hands. She hears Wanda take an uncertain step toward the both of you, unsure of what to do. But Natasha waves her hands nonchalantly and asks Wanda with a calm voice to stay back.

Natasha understands that to her wife you must look positively rabid. You were in the kitten class, but you were fighting Natasha as if you were a fighter dog. All teeth and claws. However, compared to Natasha, you might as well have been a mite.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t pierce her skin, can’t topple her balance, you can’t win.

Your fingers dig into the soft skin, your nails gripping and tearing, but nothing happens. There is no skin underneath your nails, no blood, no sight of damage against pale skin. You bite the hands that hold you, and you can hear your jaw creek as you strain your weak body, but the skin doesn't break, the only blood you taste is your own.

You are scared, you don’t know what to do, there is no sunflower field to hide behind, no sea to drown in, you feel powerless, even more so than she makes you feel.

You don’t know what they want, you don’t want to die like this.

Even after all your effort goes to waste you can’t give up, you have to keep trying, you have to-

“Stop.”

Wanda looks at you with an unreadable expression, you look up in terror as you realize you can’t move your body. One simple word, in one simple tone, has made you paralyzed.

[rastronomicals]

1:02 AM EST December 18, 2024:

Guided by Voices - "Game Of Pricks" From the album Alien Lanes (April 18, 2000)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Lo-fi

[padmesweetheart]

Shadows of Betrayal

Pairings: Master!Anakin Skywalker x Gn!Reader

Summary: Anakin overhears his own padawan, Tarek, disrespecting you while talking to another padawan. He already struggling with abandonment and loss, now faces disloyalty from someone he was supposed to guide. And as much as he wants to be the Jedi Master he once was, the anger inside him is getting harder to ignore.

Authors note: this C.AI gave me this idea and take place after Ahsoka had left the Jedi Order.

It was well past twilight in the quiet corridors of the Jedi Temple a time when the usual clamor had faded, leaving only whispers and the echo of solitary footsteps. Anakin had stayed behind, restless and haunted by a gnawing feeling he couldn’t shake. He’d been mulling over old wounds and new insecurities, feeling the ever present tug of conflict between duty and desire.

As he passed a dimly lit training hall, muted voices caught his attention. Hiding in the shadows, Anakin strained to listen. There, his trusted padawan, Tarek, was in an intense conversation with another padawan, Mira. Their voices, usually light and respectful, now carried a bitter, cutting edge. But it wasn’t their tone alone that pricked his ears it was the words.

“I don’t see why she’s so damn special,” Tarek sneered, his voice low enough to be meant only for Mira’s ears. “I mean, seriously, treating her like she’s some kind of idol just because she’s… well, because she’s with him.”

Mira’s laugh was brittle, lacking warmth. “It’s pathetic. He’s too blinded by his own ego to notice her worth. I can’t believe she lets him walk all over her.”

Every word felt like a searing blow to Anakin’s chest. His mind raced with memories moments of tenderness, shared smiles, and silent promises. His heart pounded in a mixture of anger and hurt, each pulse echoing the betrayal he’d never thought possible. His padawan, someone he’d mentored and trusted, was spewing venom about the one person who meant everything to him.

For a moment, time froze. The corridor’s quiet was shattered by the clamor of his inner storm. Anakin clenched his fists, the Force thrumming with raw emotion through him. He felt torn between the need to protect his love and the responsibility to guide his student. His eyes burned with unshed tears of frustration and sorrow a painful acknowledgment that even those he considered his own could falter.

Taking a deep, trembling breath, he stepped silently into the light, his presence sudden and foreboding. “Tarek,” he said, his voice rough with restrained anger, “we need to talk.”

The conversation halted abruptly. Tarek’s face went pale, and Mira’s eyes widened in alarm. For a long, heart-stopping moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the temple’s life support systems a stark reminder of the precious time slipping away.

Anakin’s gaze was unyielding as he continued, “I heard everything. You speak of her as if she’s nothing more than a pawn in your game, as if disrespecting her makes you seem stronger.” His voice was both an accusation and a plea—a call to remember honor, loyalty, and the unspoken code of the Jedi.

Tarek stammered, trying to backtrack, “Master, I—I didn’t mean—”

“Silence,” Anakin cut in, his tone icy. “You’ve undermined trust. Not just between me and her, but the very foundation of our teachings. The Force is not a tool for petty rivalries or idle gossip.”

Mira looked away, regret mingling with fear in her eyes. “We’re sorry, Master. It was just… words in the dark. We didn’t realize—”

“Realize what?” Anakin pressed, his inner turmoil barely contained. “That disrespect has consequences? That words can wound deeper than any lightsaber strike?”

In that dim corridor, the weight of his disappointment hung heavy. Anguish battled with duty within him, and every syllable he uttered dripped with the sting of betrayal. The once clear path of mentorship now lay obscured by doubt and regret. Yet even amid the storm, a single thought anchored him: his love, his partner, who deserved nothing less than unwavering respect.

Lowering his gaze, Anakin’s voice softened—achingly vulnerable. “I’ve dedicated my life to the Jedi way, to teaching you all honor and compassion. I never imagined I’d have to confront betrayal from those I trusted most.”

For a heartbeat, the silence stretched as Tarek and Mira absorbed his words. Then, in that moment of reckoning, Anakin turned away, his resolve hardening like tempered steel. He would confront this betrayal not with reckless fury, but with the heavy burden of a teacher’s sorrow a promise to protect the ones he loved and to forge a path back to the true essence of the Force.

The corridor swallowed his retreating figure, leaving behind a lingering chill and a lesson etched deep into the very walls of the temple a reminder that even in the pursuit of light, shadows of betrayal could creep in, and only the strength of one’s convictions could banish them.

[ninibeingdelulu]

“I love you” ✧

Plot: Coming home after being away for a game, he realizes how much he love you.

The dull roar of jet engines faded into silence as Michael dragged his battered duffel through the dimly-lit entranceway - sheer exhaustion weighing down every leaden footfall after the grueling overseas exhibition match.

Only the promise of your embrace drove those rubber legs forward once clearing customs.

Simply picturing your adoring smile thawed the lingering chill embedded in his bones beneath those vibrant stadium lights burning so mercilessly hours earlier.

Because no matter how many towering accolades soccer bestowed upon him, nothing compared to the searing flame your love ignited within his once glacial core.

Pulse quickening with every shuffled stride across the familiar foyer's threshold, Michael's slate grays swept slowly in a silent panoramic - drinking in the subtle remnants of you scattered amidst their shared living quarters with a bone-deep fondness once unimaginable for such a self-obsessed prick.

There laid your threadbare sandals discarded haphazardly beside his scuffed cleats - an arresting vision abruptly grounding the blistering drive singularly fixated on fame and championships only twelve whirlwind months ago.

Until your boundless patience etched itself into his stony psyche.

Shucking off his own sneakers with a tired grunt, Michael pressed forwards through the shadowed hallway - only to be enveloped by the enticing bouquets of your favorite incense and bath oils still perfuming the stale air from earlier that morning.

Like an anchor weighing down each footfall in the richest, most indulgent sensory caress he'd been sorely deprived of over these past excruciating weeks.

Every path converged upon indelible impressions you'd steadily embedded throughout his once purely monastic existence devoid of comfort or fondness for homeliness.

Hanging jackets and the random coffee cup abandoned on that antique oak table you both adored for its simple, timeless charm.

A tangible testament to the irrevocably entwined lives you now shared despite his former staunch resistance to any potential distractions from dominating the pitch above all else.

Yet any lingering doubts or caustic voices hissing perpetual disparagement simply dissolved within the syrupy warmth diffusing through Michael's pounding chest.

Smothered beneath a sudden influx of those once unthinkable saccharine emotions stabbing deeper than any cleats raking across manicured turf.

The profound, blooming realization of exactly how far he'd tumbled down into blissful, all-consuming devotion to you slowly crystallizing. Scorching gratitude consuming any shred of self-loathing or toxicity still clinging to the vestiges of his hardened core.

Because Michael Kaiser - the uncompromising god-idol carved from supremely-arrogant granite - reveled in smothering, doe-eyed adulation for the beautifully empathetic mortal whose guiding compassion inexorably reshaped his innermost being.

Reforging those frigid edges into molten tenderness reflected within that wry smirk gracing his features while ultimately breaching the bedroom's threshold.

There you lay tangled amidst the bedding in utter tranquility, ignorant to the world blazing on without you as the vestiges of daylight shifted into inky cerulean along the horizon.

Either lulled into slumber by the late hour or simply overwhelmed by the very same hopeless longing Michael still battled sating with each fruitless deployment.

Helplessly committing your ethereal silhouette within that cozy sanctuary to memory, Michael simply basked in the sight - content to drink in every rise and fall of your serene figure until his own hammering pulse steadied into a gradually lulling cadence.

Because you were his everything now.

His true north and inspiration amidst this turbulent voyage once solely motivated by quenching an unsatiated bloodthirst for public adulation and trophies.

His beacon in life's relentless madness.

So with the reverent tenderness of a man cherishing his greatest fortune, Michael slid beneath those satiny sheets behind your slumbering form.

Enveloping your smaller contour into the protective cage of his solid embrace, burying his stubbled jawline into the nape of your throat to fully inhale your intoxicating nectar.

As your instinctive squirms melted into the solidity of his chest, Michael's lids sagged with sheer contentment.

His possessive grip never slackening even the faintest degree as those fatigue-glazed pewter irises drifted shut - sealing with a featherlight graze of searing lips across your forehead.

"I love you."

Those forbidden syllables ghosted over your cheek with a nearly imperceptible caress, viscerally shocking even himself with its earnest tenderness as the universe slowly dimmed beyond your tangled, intimate cocoon of devotion.

Yet none of the withering venom or defensiveness once characterizing that callous alpha exterior remained even an inkling.

Only boundless serenity in having you exactly where Michael privately yearned for throughout every globetrotting second spanning continents and lifespans.

Secured within that sanctum for the remainder of your days enmeshed as one blessed, completed whole.

[leahsgf]

Can we have a Katie McCabe x reader where the reader comes back to arsenal and is upset after not qualifying for the Olympics with the Lionesses and gf katie comforts her?

NOT YOUR FAULT - katie mccabe

katie mccabe x reader

i wrote this the day after the scotland game and have only just finished it up now so i’m sorry for the wait!

a sort of cloud loomed over you as you made your way through the arsenal gym, which was usually a place of comfort to you.

today was different. it had been a few days since the lionesses’ game against scotland and the realisation that you hadn’t qualified for the olympics had only just started to sink in for you, and unlike your teammates, who seemed to just bounce back from it and move on - everything around you football related was just a screaming reminder of the failure. your failure.

you should’ve done something. anything. to create more chances, create a different outcome. you had let them down, and you didn’t know how to live with that.

you hadn’t answered any of the messages you’d received online or elsewhere, not even those from fellow players, instead obsessing over the negative ones, that did nothing but confirm your doubts.

eyes were locked on you as you swiftly crossed the room, a specific set particularly burning.

you had yet to face your girlfriend, never mind speak to her since the loss, despite her best efforts, and you weren’t entirely sure that you could without absolutely crumbling.

your pace increased - exiting the gym as you heard the all too familiar sound of her footsteps trailing behind you, your initial hope to get through the day failing immediately as tears pricked at your eyes.

“y/n wait up!” she called after you, her walk becoming a jog and her irish accent filling the corridor as you made another turn.

she was always quicker than you, and you knew that she’d catch up to you with ease - a thought that was confirmed almost immediately after it crossed your mind as hands grasped at your shoulders from behind and guided you into an empty room, before turning you around to face her.

your eyes remained glued to the floor, in a desperate cling to the remains of your composure, which had pretty much vanished the minute you heard her voice.

“hey, look at me.” the softness of the tips of her fingers against your chin as she guided your head upwards to lock eyes with her own, was enough to make you completely melt, and the previously threatening tears to break free, spilling down your flushed cheeks.

her frown deepened as she took in you, freezing for a split second before pulling you into her arms, rocking the both of you gently and brushing away any stray tears.

the pair of you remained in silence as you cried into her shoulder, and she cradled your head, stroking your hair and pressing the odd kiss to it, letting her lips linger in an attempt to soothe you.

you knew that this was all part of football, and being many years into your career, you had expected yourself to be well adjusted to the times where things don’t go exactly how you planned, and losses - but you had always been over critical and unnecessarily hard on yourself, and katie knew this too.

“it is not your fault okay?” she finally spoke after letting you feel your emotions.

“i know you’re not going to believe me, but please try to trust me when i say that there’s nothing more you could’ve done - you played incredibly well. and i know that it hurts like hell, but sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, and i’ll be here for you through it all. but what i won’t allow is you blaming yourself for this, and i doubt any of the girls’ would either. now what do you say we head home sweetheart.”

“thank you”

“there’s my girl. i’m so proud of you baby, you know that? let’s head off then, i’ll look after you.”

-

katie was incredible at everything she did, no matter what it was. but her looking after you was something that she managed to do just perfectly, every single time.

she never once let your hand go as she lead you through your shared apartment, guiding you to the living room, where a fresh bouquet of flowers sat in the vase on the coffee table, and a card that read “so proud of you always - love, katie”

she never tried to force a fix to your issues, and let you feel your losses and low points, knowing that she couldn’t take away the feeling exactly, but she could take care of you, and remind you that she loved you, and would be by your side through anything and everything that life threw at you, and ultimately of your worth - which she would never let you forget.

and she just always knew exactly what to do, ushering you to sit down on the sofa, putting on your comfort show and insisting that you relax as she rushed around, running a bath for the pair of you and ordered your favourite takeout.

losses would always hurt, and you would undoubtedly be hard on yourself every time.

but with katie by your side paired with pizza and bubble baths you knew that you’d be alright, and you’d get back up and fight back to the negative voices in your mind, every time.

-

really wanted to finally finish this so the ending is kind of rushed - sorry! hope you enjoyed anyway, and please send me more requests!

[wandanatskitten]

Trailer pt.2

A/N: This is a part of that trailer I made with Dom/CEO!WandaNat. It became a lot more popular than I thought it would be, so here’s a little something based on the rollercoaster that is their relationship per popular request. Also, instead of making this into a whole fic I’ll have it as an AU on my feed. The collage is how I pictured our Sugar Dommy Mommies.

Trailer pt.1

Natasha vibes = Scarlett’s sponsorship with David Yurman

Wanda vibes = Lizzie press during His Three Daughters

Mentions of sex 18+ minors dni ENJOY!!!

You always believed yourself to be an independent person. You were a full time student with a job and paid your own bills. Purposely distancing yourself from family just to prove you could do it all. More than once it brought episodes of stress into your life but you found ways to deal with it.

Crying, a nice book at the cafe, indulging in food, and oddly enough your studies were soothing. Those were the few things that could distract you from the reality that holding down your own fort was more effort than a 24 year old really wanted to put in.

But growing up with a mother who played victim, all but solidified your fate. Because if she could do it, so could you. The only difference was she had a kid and you didn’t. No one wants to feel like they raised themselves, but it was inevitable for you. Seeing as your mom was more focused on her studies and career than raising her child.

You rarely admit it, because the moment you do tears prick your eyes. As independent as you became, all your heart craves is to be taken care of. If you allowed yourself to really think about it, you’d fall prey to being coddled. Held in the night as someone else controls the sweet dreams you have. You’d refuse at first, denying your capabilities to be dependent on anyone, but when push comes to shove…no wouldn’t be taken for an answer. And eventually, following becomes a habit. Like a helpless duckling imprinting on the first leader it sees.

———————————————————————

Denial

It started when you met the brunette and redhead. Bumping into them here and there. Every time they’d offer you something and every time you tried to reject. Unsure of others doing you favors but your mousy little no’s were futile against the sureness in Natasha’s voice. She was always so firm and grounded. Insistent and demanding. Wanda held a softer approach toward you but aggressively voiced her disapproval to those around you. You scolded her for her words, continuing to lie to yourself. Lying about the heat that floods your body at her disapproving and protective nature towards your environment. At some point you began to deny any advance just to be challenged by Nat and Wanda. You were never conscious of this behavior but they always caught the brightness in your eyes every time the older women won authority over you.

Anger

Defiance would begin to settle in your bones. Fighting against your want between controlling and being controlled. The feeling of soft hands paired with a firm touch to your lower back, guiding you to the town car was a simple trigger. Once you pass the denial of craving Wanda’s fingers interlaced with yours and the possessive hold of Natasha’s hand on your thigh, you bubbled with defiance. It manifested in anger, causing you to retreat to old friends. Friends whom you distanced from, they were trouble, and trouble is what you wanted to cause. Natasha and Wanda would follow you to clubs and bars. Tight fitting clothes and low cut tops showing the perfection of your assets. Three women would have an argument in the middle of the floor. A childish act that’ll put you in harms way as you storm away to dance with another. Jealousy pouring from their eyes as you look at them, hips grinding with a strangers.

Depression

You began to throw yourself in parties and alcohol since Wanda dragged Nat out that club. More levelheaded than the redhead, she proposed playing the long game. Little did you know the sudden absence of the two would crumble your desperate attempt to self sabotage. You hated yourself for pushing them away. Missing the warmth in Wanda’s eyes right before she kissed you. No one else’s lips tasted like the honey that settled in the tea Wanda drank. And sure you could fuck anyone you wanted but no one had that sweet puppy look that would break through Natasha’s hard exterior when you didn’t give her enough attention. Silently begging to nip and suck at your milky skin, covering your neck and breast with her existence. You’d wake one cold morning steeping a tea with the sad attempt to replicate Wanda’s doing. Before walking to class, you’d wrap Natasha’s scarf around your neck. Usually used to cover her dominating acts, now having a singular purpose to remind you of the women you miss.

Bargaining

You looked pathetic but you couldn’t care less. Begging for the forgiveness of Natasha and Wanda. They held a serious look as you positioned yourself on your knees. Not having the patience to wait till they got off work, you barge into their office space. Hysterical with greed for them to be back in your life. It was amusing to them, Wanda knew it was only a matter of time. The two kept you out, yet still held you close. Keeping a close eye and watching you more intensely than before. Other than being able to intervene, it was quite amusing watching you miss them. Their favorite moments were filled with your pessimistic attempts to touch yourself. You were prey to video cameras placed around your apartment. Weak moans and needy cries as you groped yourself on your couch, had your fingers knuckles deep on your bed, and wasting water abusing your clit with your shower head in the bath. It was all futile, each time edging yourself because your hands were never enough to make you cum. You had that same desperate cry for attention then as you do now. Your tears amusing as you tell them you’d do anything to have them back. Wanda’s eyebrow raising and Natasha eliciting a smirk at your own reproach. You lasted a week longer than the women thought you would. Any more time and they would’ve taken matters into their own hands with a more offensive method.

Acceptance

You sighed with relief at the feeling of standing between your Mistresses. Wanda peppering your face with kisses as she took her time to unbutton your blouse. She’d wipe any tears that fell after your shirt hit the floor, questioning the emotions behind the salty water. It was no more than a quiet confession of your desire for them and the overwhelming relief of being surrounded by their scent. Natasha would nuzzle her head in your neck and reach your jeans from behind you, whispering candied words into your skin about how they missed you as she undid the material holding up your pants. The vulnerability the three of you felt was all consuming. You were the perfect piece that fit between the two women. Heating up the sheets wrapped around you on the large mattress. Hands and lips guided by the volume of moaning in desperate desire. Taking turns to feel, to watch, to taste. You had all night to make up for time lost. Invested in the way Natasha’s tongue felt against yours as Wanda’s clit rubbed deliciously against your thigh. Watching the divinity before her as she uses you to make herself cum. The combination of feeling you tease her nipples with the sight of Natasha forcefully grabbing your jaw, spitting into your awaiting mouth was enough to feel the tension break in her core, wetting your thigh with her release. Wanda, seeing the mess she made, generously licked her own juices off your thigh. Natasha pleased with the sight below her couldn’t help the breathy “fuck” that slipped out. Watching her partner lick you clean and kiss her way higher only to diverge her attention to allow you to watch the older women kiss. Your jaw slacked with the forgetfulness of proper breathing. Shaky and shallow you breathed with anticipation as Natasha and Wanda switched places. Wanda urging her first lover to straddle herself between your legs. Insisting she deserves a turn to feel the pressure of you between her thighs. As commanded Nat placed one of your legs on her shoulder and delicately began to rub her sensitive clit with your throbbing core. Wanda uses this time to appreciate the sight of you both, playing with Natasha’s breast as you moan and whine from the feeling of your slick mixing with the readhead’s. Wanda guides Nat to toy with her own nipples, then trails to suck her own possessive marks onto your chest. Licking and biting her way up your neck and placing featherlight kisses behind your ear. “Open your eyes.” She lightly instructs. “Look at Natty, look at how good you make her feel.” You were focused on the pleasure she was causing, but the sight of Nat’s rapacious desire to cum almost made you do so at first sight. “That’s it, bunny.” Wanda saw right through you. “Look at how you break that tough shell. Needy little Natasha desperately getting herself off on that pretty little pussy.” She was right, the slight stutter in Nat’s hips was obvious as she drew closer to her finish, pulling you right behind her. Nat was known for her dominance and there was nothing sexier than seeing her give up that control. Moaning and cursing at the feeling of clenching around nothing. “Cum for Y/n, baby. Show her how much you missed your little pet.” Wanda’s commanding presence drowned you and Natasha both in the last pit of pleasure your mind needed to break. You held back your orgasm just long enough to see Nat cum on top of you. Squeezing your raised leg with a bruising grip as her head threw back to release a strangled moan. You followed right behind her, your shared orgasm leaking onto the bed sheets while Wanda nipped at any unmarked skin, proud to guide the both of you to your much needed climax.

———————————————————————

You can have it all if you allow yourself the pleasure. Falling for two older women willing to take care of you. The pressure felt like too much. It was too good to be true you told yourself and even managed to push them away. Or so you thought, you ran and ran only you didn’t realize you were running in circles that lead you back into your Mistress’s arms. Wanda and Natasha willing and waiting with open arms that held protection and love. Every vulnerable emotion you craved, they nurtured without second thought.

The redhead and brunette would be damned if they let you go that first day they saw you. And they’d be damned if you thought you could escape their feral need to own and love you. There was no escape.

You grieved your independence, you grieved your trauma, and you moved forward to peace. There was nothing more you could ask for than the grievance of the two women letting go of the past to have you in their future.

[heykaya]

Reactions To PC Going Into Labor - Mason, Sirris, Sydney and Sirris, Alex, that Woodcutter that lives near Eden

Extracted from the game’s code (19th April 2025)

Mason

In the school’s swimming pool.

You gasp as a contraction hits you, stealing the strength from your limbs. You briefly go under, and chlorinated water fills your mouth. You flail in a panic, struggling to keep your head above water. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrap around you, towing you out of the water and onto the slippery tile. Firm, unyielding hands turn you on your side as you hack up water.

"Whoa, what happened?" Mason asks, looking concerned as he leans over you. "You need to be more careful, what if..." His voice trails off as he notices the way you carefully hold your abdomen. "Are you going into labour? Now?" Panicked, he turns and yells at a nearby student to run to Leighton's office for help.

You watch the student dash out of the room with glazed eyes as Mason turns his attention back to you. "You're going to be alright. Just breathe with me, okay?" Mason tries to guide you through some breathing exercises, but you're unable to focus. As the world fades to black, you hear the sirens of an ambulance.

Sirris

During Science Class

A powerful contraction grips you, and you cry out. The pain causes you to blackout for the briefest of seconds. When you open your eyes, you find yourself laying on the classroom floor, Sirris hovering over you. "You're going into labour," he says, holding your hand as he fishes a cellphone out of his pocket. "You're going to be okay, I promise." He presses the phone to his ear and calls for an ambulance.

As you wait for the ambulance, Sirris lectures on the miracle of childbirth. Some of your classmates look ill, while others can't tear their eyes away from you. The last thing you hear before passing out is his enthusiastic gushing about your ripened cervix.

Sydney and Sirris

At the Adult Shop

You stumble, barely catching yourself on a shelf laden with dildos. You cradle your belly as you slide to the ground, groaning with pain.

You hear Sirris calling for you from the back room. After a few moments, you hear Sirris enter the shop proper, followed by a shout of surprise as his eyes land on you.

Within moments, Sirris is kneeling at your side, phone to his ear as he tries to hold your attention.

Behind him, you can see Sydney hovering in worry. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but you can't hold on any longer. You pass out.

Alex

At the Farm Road.

Your body feels tired, and your legs give out underneath you. The road is only a few centimetres away from you. You attempt to stand, but your body won't move. Fluid drips down your leg. You're going into labour.

Managing to roll yourself over, you wave your hands in the air, hoping to flag down a car passing by. No one spares you a look, asides from an occasional honk. One comes so close that you have to roll back over to avoid getting hit.

Tears prick at your eyes. You fear having to deliver your baby in such a horrible place, and as time ticks by, that fear becomes more and more real.

(If Alex is the father + you have talked to him about having kids)

Your body starts to give into fatigue. You barely realise that someone has picked you up. They're yelling at you, but you can't make out the words. Your head spins.

It takes a moment for you to focus long enough to realise who it is. It's Alex. Despite your blurry vision, you're able to make out the fear on his face. With you and your baby in good hands, you let go and fall unconscious.

That Woodcutter That Lives Near Eden

Starts at Eden’s Cabin

Your thighs feel wet, and you start to feel a sharp pain. You're going into labour.

(Depending on time of day)

Eden is still sleeping soundly.

Eden is out hunting, he can't help you right now.

Eden is busy with his own chores and hasn't noticed your panic.

(If PC is collared and leashed)

You desperately tug at your leash, hoping it will break. A few last stubborn threads hold on. Panicked, you begin to gnaw at the threads. Relief floods you when it breaks.

You stumble into the forest as the pain of your contractions begins. You're not even sure where you're going.

(If PC has Stockholm Syndrome: Eden)

You're about to turn back to the cabin, when a branch cracks to your left.

(Otherwise)

You walk an unknown distance before you pause, too exhausted to continue, the adrenaline fading from your body. A branch cracks to your left.

You hear a (person)'s voice. "Are you okay, there?" he asks as he approaches. He looks vaguely familiar. There's an axe along his back. You think you stopped and talked to him as he was chopping wood once.

You're barely able to talk as another contraction hits, more painful than the previous ones. The (person) takes off his coat and gently puts it over your shoulders.

"Come on, lean on me. I'll take you to the hospital." Your vision fades before you can take the next step.

Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost