18+ only! | They/Them/She/Her | 23 | I just reblog art and fics I like! NSFW stuff is common so be aware! | Kinda a freak ngl | Down to be friends! Just send a message :)
Might be a weird as hell idea but I need your honest opinion because my friends are not willing to hear me out and you seem like you'd get it.
Victor Gideon controlling your bladder. He uses said control to make you hold it all day until it's time to get down and dirty. Proceeds to put pressure on the bladder area until you let go and you're so humiliated💔
But it's okay! Because he'll totally then comfort you like it wasn't completely his fault 😣
Please don't dog on me
-🐑
Oh you and I were in the primordial soup together I can tell-
NSFT below the cut !
GOD it's like you read my mind !!! He absolutely would- controlling you gets him hard like nothing else, and this is one of the ultimate forms of control. Forcing you to ignore your own body, watching you squirm and whine for hours but not allowing you to find relief; and then suddenly changing what he wants from you and playing your body like an instrument to get it despite your humiliation,,, AUGH
The mental image of his huge hand resting on your knee (stilling your leg that you'd been bouncing in a last ditch effort to not piss yourself), squeezing gently- and then sliding up up up your thighs, dipping teasingly between them for a moment just to hear you yelp and plead with him not right now sounding so whiny and embarrassed. "Alright, I won't touch you there" he soothes, agreeing with you surprisingly quickly; which you realize is actually a bad sign when his hand slides just that little bit further up to rest over your bladder.
He presses gently at first so he can feel you writhe, hear you try and tell him that you're serious, you really have to go; as if he doesn't already know that. Then he starts gently kneading, slowly increasing the pressure until you can't hold it anymore- and of course he acts surprised when you actually do piss yourself, like he really didn't know you meant it, like he didn't orchestrate this whole thing.
The worst part is that he makes you feel grateful when he doesn't get upset, despite the fact that it wasn't your fault in the first place. He coos over you, telling you that accidents happen, and how it was his fault, really, for assuming his pet was house trained. He says that it's alright, you can fully let go, there's no need to stop now- he'll have to change the sheets anyways. He insists on undressing you afterwards to help you clean up, but whether that leads to you getting fucked in your wet hospital bed or getting a forced bath is up to you <3
could you do agatha x reader where she kidnaps reader and cuts her achilles heel so she cant run away? im not sure if this is too dark, please let me know...
dark is where I have my most fun 🥰 I didn't end up doing the actual cutting part though 💔 I ran out of words. Thank you for such a fun ask!!
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dark Agatha, kidnapped reader, reader gets caught escaping 🥳, very quick implied pet play, knife, scene before injury :p
words: 734
You’re curled up on your pet bed and Agatha in making lunch in the kitchen when you see it. An open window. You carefully sit up and look towards the kitchen. Agatha is humming quietly to herself. It could be a mistake. A genuine, honest mistake that she left the window open and you alone in the room. You’ve been slowly giving in or making her think so, you aren’t sure which. She’s been giving you more and more freedoms as time’s gone on. You’d dare to say she’s relaxed around you, at least a little.
Your heart pounds in your chest. Agatha has always been unforgiving when you’ve broken a rule and this is the biggest one. No leaving the house. At all. She says it’s too dangerous for a sweet thing like you, but you know it’s so you don’t bolt. You slowly rise and carefully walk to the window. You know where all the creaks are, even if Agatha is likely to drown them out with her humming.
You have to take a deep breath when you reach the window, you were trying to be so quiet you forgot to breathe, and to control yourself. Every piece of you wants to scramble out of it, but Agatha will definitely hear that. The windows are loud every time she opens them and it’ll be even louder if you knock into it. You carefully climb through. You instincts scream at putting your back to the kitchen but you have no other choice. The lock scrape your skin even as you try to twist away from it. Every second is agonisingly slow. You expect a hand to close around your leg at any moment.
And then you’re suddenly touching grass. You freeze for a moment. The feeling feels so foreign now and you forgot how strong it can smell. Remembering yourself, you crawl forward. Your feet land with a muted thump and you wince. You press yourself against the wall below the window and freeze, but Agatha’s humming hasn’t changed. You start crawling forward, as fast as you can. Ironically, Agatha not letting you walk has given you speed in your escape. The house is surrounded by bushes as tall as trees. At least the windows are. All you’ve ever been able to see is a stretch of grass and the green border. You’ve never seen movement beyond it, or heard anything other than birds outside. Heart pounding so hard you feel like you’re going to be sick, you reach the bushes. You shove yourself to your feet and brute force your way through. The bushes are grown tightly together and limbs scrape you but you don’t feel it beyond the pressure and a few trickles of blood. This is it. The first new sight in— in so long you feel like you’ve been here forever. You stumble free and look around with eager eyes.
Your heart drops, your stomach with it.
There’s a wall. A flat, wooden wall well above your height. You try to jump high enough to catch the edge, knowing it’s futile. You fingers don’t get anywhere close. You scramble desperately at the wood but there’s no dents or knots to dig your nails in. Panic closing your throat, you step back a few paces and run at it, jumping at the last second to try and push yourself up using the wall. You’re fingers are still a hands breath away from the edge. You fall on your ass, panting as you stare up at it. The bushes are too far away to jump from. What the fuck are you meant to do?
“Well, that’s my entertainment for the day.”
You jolt upright, turning to see Agatha standing there. Instead of the rage you’re expecting, she looks amused. There’s a sharp, thin kitchen knife in her hand. Your mouth is so dry you almost choke.
A door. A wall has to have a door. Doors have handles and things you can climb. You dart sideways, sure you can outrun Agatha’s slow gait. There has to be a way out of here.
All you find is a corner. You turn to try again but Agatha is already behind you. She’s close enough that she’ll be able to reach out and grab you, slice you, no matter which side you run.
“Let’s see how far you can run with your strings cut.”
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