#struggle against the bonds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theheadlessgroom · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/715718899012976640/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

“Are you cold?” June asked with a gentle smile, gesturing to the water before wrapping her arms around herself, rubbing her arms to simulate trying to warm herself up when chilled; she’d seen what Randall had been doing, miming what he meant as he spoke to her, and it seemed like that was a big help in getting the point across, so she thought she would continue that trend.

“I can warm up the water if you like,” she explained, gesturing to the dials-red for warm, blue for cool-perhaps it didn’t matter much to sirens (she got the feeling that she was a more cold-blooded creature, given her piscine appearance), but she thought she would ask anyways. It was then that she remembered something else she had for her, and so she reached into her pocket.

“This,” she explained, holding out the little ducky, which squeaked softly when squeezed. “Is a rubber duck Randall used to play with in the tub when he was a boy. It’s not edible, so please don’t eat it.” She mimed putting it in her mouth before shaking her head with a small smile, before gently placing it in the water. “I’ll be around the house, and I’ll come in and keep you company where I can, but I thought I would bring this little fellow out and share him with you, just so you’re not so lonely while you recover.”

#((exactly! emily's eating habits isn't out of maliciousness; it's literally just her nature; and humans just happen to be her prey!))#((and i think wilhelm would come to see and understand that; that in emily's case; it's not malice driving her to eat humans))#((she's just hungry! and it's not like she's ever known any differently; nor considered eating something other than humans!))#((this is her first time she's interacted with humans; and it *could* be that sirens have been similarly warned to be wary of them))#((much in the way wilhelm always heard stories warning to be wary of sirens! maybe that's at play there too!))#((and so it'll be interesting to see the two of them move past that and start to bond!))#((and oh i TOTALLY think constance enjoys being cruel to her victims; i got no doubt in my mind that she is actively malicious))#((enjoying their fear and their vain efforts to struggle against her! she's actively cruel whereas emily is just trying to eat!))#((i defidently think emily would be open to changing her appetite; whereas constance is NEVER gonna change; no matter what!))#outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Part of Your World

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violetueur-archive · 2 years

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A gift for @detonizing A companion piece to THIS Paired with MUSIC for added effect

It’s only after she’s in the room alone with him, that the tears finally come. The moment the door clicks shut her features twists, expression so pinched tight that it makes the muscles in her face ache, a headache blooming behind her forehead as the sheer force of agony finally hits her. It must be ugly. Enough that he’d make fun of her if he could see it. Feet refuse to cooperate, planted firmly just passed the threshold, as her gaze finds the bed. Small and clinical, lined with cream colored sheets. They are alone now, in this room that cannot decide what to be. Soft blue paint and landscape paintings line the walls in an attempt to be comforting that merely comes off impersonal. He lays on a mattress now, instead of the dirt. Nicolette only knows she’s crying by the way her vision swims, eyes burning like they’ve been rubbed with salt. She feels it on her cheeks, tastes it in the corners of her lips, yet the room remains eerily silent, as if filled with more than one corpse. Maybe in a way, it is.

This is where she’s come to die.

Even if her body will walk out of here fully alive, something inside her has already been broken beyond repair. The ever-present void in her heart has become a blackhole, pulling everything within. What use does she have for a useless instrument such as this? It has done her no favors— this much has been made clear, from the way it tears a hole through her very chest, as if desperate to get out... seeking the thing that helped it work again, after being broken once before. But that thing is gone, and so she supposes this must be a funeral, as well as a goodbye. Hers, before his. She will leave it here, with him, where it belongs. A living corpse has no need for a heart, for a soul, for anything at all, but cold emptiness.

She moves without meaning to, and before she knows it her legs have carried her to the bedside. Both eyes stare down at his still form, refusing to go anywhere else even though she cannot bear to look at him. He seems peaceful, as if asleep, face wiped clean and features relaxed, but she knows the proof of his condition lies just beneath the blanket. It’s too soon for the damage to be hidden— they have not yet taken his body and dressed him in his finest suit, nor brushed his skin to look warm and alive. He looks peaceful, but also cold. He does not look anything else, but dead. This will be the image that haunts her forever, she thinks. She will never forget it.

The absence of life, or the feeling of his blood on her hands ( her arms, her chest, her face, her mouth— ).

When scarred fingers reach out to touch, his flesh is cool and solid. It’s what she expected, and yet it adds a new weight, like a punch to the gut that knocks all the air from her lungs. He doesn’t even feel human, anymore. It’s too soon. To fast. It’s all happening too quickly, and she can’t keep up. He feels so far away, even though he’s only right in front of her, though... she supposes in reality, he’s already somewhere she cannot reach. Her arms find their away around him anyway and she leans down over the bed, trying her best not to disturb his body as both arms wrap around his shoulders. Her forehead rests against his temple and for a moment it’s like she’s in that field again, holding him close. Like she’s the only thing keeping him from collapsing into nothing— a pillar he can lean on for support that will never forsake him. Never fail him. But she did. And this was the price she paid for it.

Both arms tremble as they hug him closer, and Nicolette stills as it presses their chests together, forcing out air from his lungs. It leaves his mouth like an exhale, right next to her ear. She knows it means nothing. That it’s just a natural reaction. But the sound fills the empty space, and it tears her asunder. She does it again. And again. And then once more, pulling away slightly before hugging him tightly, repeating. It’s like he’s breathing, there beneath her. It feels wrong, a little twisted even, enough to make her sick with guilt. The hero knows she’s pathetic, for clinging to that facsimile sound of life, but she clings all the same until the tears have long started to dry upon her cheeks.

With eyes closed, it’s like she can pretend that none of this is real. It’s easy to ignore what’s right there in front of you, as long as you cannot see it. Bloodletter knows this best of all, because that has always been the quickest solution to her problems. She does not look directly at the things that hurt, for there has always been many and it has always been too much. There has never been anywhere for that pain to go but inward, pushed deep and sealed tight so that it might remain there forever. Compartmentalizing was an early developed skill, refined and perfected since the beginning of a torturous youth— it might’ve been the only thing that got her through it, the only reason she was still here. Right now... Nicolette almost wishes it hadn’t. Suddenly the trauma of that past that once seemed so unbearably large and soul-crushing is nothing compared to the feeling that sits within her chest, now. It is collapsing her lungs, rotting her from the inside out, and she knows without a shadow of doubt as she cradles this body in her arms:

❛ This is the thing that will destroys me. ❜

It is not a defeat on the battlefield or a death at the hands of a villain. It is a vicious and brutal hallowing of her very being. To have her insides carved away, leaving nothing but vacant space in its wake. Who would’ve thought that emptiness could be the thing that finally killed her? The thing that hurt her, most of all. No physical wound could bleed like this. No phantom pain of a scar could ache so deep. She had always known that life was unfair; being a child orphaned through untimely death and living through what felt like a punishment for surviving, she had learned it young. The world was cruel and bleak. Not even a society of heroes could change that. All they did was hide the ugliness beneath a thin sheet of hope— that if the Gods above would not heed the prayers of mortals, the ones blessed with power could be worshipped in their place.

She has never once believed in such foolish things, yet she finds herself begging, anyway. Hunched over the bed and clinging to a corpse, the hero pleads to Gods that will not listen and heroes that are only human, for a miracle. Her silent mourning has been given a voice once again as desperate wailing fills the room, a perfect mimicry of the moment she’d caught his bleeding body in her arms and felt the world collapse around her, echoing with the screaming of a banshee. How his parting words haunted her even now— an apology towards the final person to ever betray him through failure. One last joke, a sadistic mockery pointing out just how tragically incompetent she truly was. Incapable of saving herself, so he’d gone it down it for her, time and time again.

Perhaps it had been pure selfishness that pushed her to latch onto him, in the beginning. Like a mother bird imprinting on a child that was not her own. She had seen herself in Katsuki, and it was a reflection she hated to see, yet could not look away from. Despite being a hero, Nicolette had never quite wanted to save anyone the way she had wanted to save him. He was so deserving of it, but the world was unfair to him, as it had been unfair to her. It should be her body laying here. It should be her story coming to a close. There isn’t a single fucking thing she can offer to anyone else, anymore. ❝ Please... please, I can’t— ❞ It’s nothing but a broken sob, ❝ I can’t do this... I’m not good like him. I’m not strong... I’m not— ❞ I’m not enough. I have never been enough. ❝ I’m sorry... I’m sorry— please don't do this to me, please-- !! ❞ But it has already been done.

It’s over.

Muffled voices can be heard from the hallway, and Nicolette knows that her time is up. She is not so selfish as to remain here while others wait in queue to mourn. It’s fine, anyway. She has nothing left to give. This is the second and last time that Nicolette will ever let him go, and it is not by pitying hands that forcefully tear him from her desperately clinging arms. This time, when she lets him go, it with a mechanical slowness that speaks not of acceptance, but meaningless defeat. Her expression falls to cold apathy as her gaze lingers on his face for a final moment. When she leaves the room, a sound like shattering glass is the last thing she hears. And then, she is gone.

Bakugou Katsuki is dead. What else is there to say?

#detonizing #i don't even really know what to say #im so angry at you for writing that still #reading your thing and writing this brought forth so much grief-related trauma #i think im more mentally ill after this but it was cathartic too #some acts/experiences and a lot of the feelings in this are from personal experiences #ah man.... this is bummer city fr #grief tw//#death tw//#↳ BONDS ; KATSUKI BAKUGOU || detonizing ❛ the struggle you are up against makes you what you are ❜#long post #↳ VERSE ; BNHA: HERO || ❛ we gladiate / but we’re really fighting ourselves ❜

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catdotjpeg · 5 months

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Incredible. Palestinians gathered today in Nelson Mandela Square, Ramallah, in the West Bank, playing the South African anthem to pay tribute to South Africa for taking apartheid Israel to the ICJ over its violations of the Genocide Convention. It is us, as Africans, who say thank you to Palestine for being an inspiration for a just and humane world, and for being our constant ally in the struggle for liberation. This heartfelt and beautiful gesture from Palestinians comes at great personal risk, with the Israeli Occupation Forces committing constant atrocities against Palestinians in the West Bank. We salute Palestinians and stand by their side to demand an immediate ceasefire and an end to Israeli apartheid, settler colonialism and occupation. The bond between Africa and Palestine is unbreakable. It is our shared humanity — our heartfelt solidarity — that will bring an end to hateful violence. Palestine will be free!

-- African Artists Against Apartheid, photos by Alaa Daraghme, 10 Jan 2024

As the International Court of Justice prepares to consider whether Israel is committing genocidal acts in its war on Gaza, Palestinians in Ramallah have gathered for a rally celebrating South Africa, the country that first submitted the case against Israel and a nation with longstanding ties to the Palestinian cause. “This rally is actually under the banner of ‘Thank you South Africa'” Al Jazeera correspondent Hoda Abdel-Hamid reported near a crowd gathered around a statue of Nelson Mandela in Ramallah. South African flags could be seen waving in the background. “This rally started with words from the mayor of Ramallah, who said South Africa represented a ‘beacon of hope’ for the Palestinians, reminding them that deep-rooted relations between South Africa and the Palestinians go back to the days of Nelson Mandela.”

-- "Palestinians celebrate South Africa in Ramallah rally" by Linah Alsaafin and Brian Osgood, 10 Jan 2024 16:30 GMT

#palestine #south africa #ramallah #id in alt text

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wanders-in-wonderland · 5 months

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Pay to Play

The last thing I remember is a van pulling up to the sidewalk and two men grabbing me. I vaguely recall a syringe going into my arm and the pain of an injection but that’s all that I can remember of when I wake up. I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, and gagged. There are several other girls in the room as well, all tied and gagged just like I am. The fear is palpable as we look between ourselves. Some are crying and most of us are squirming and struggling to no avail.

Suddenly, the door to the room we’re in swings open and several men walk in. No one says a word as the men go towards the girl closest to the door and pick her up, chair included. They leave with her, just as suddenly as they arrived, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

I feel tears well up in my eyes, the fear and confusion becoming too much for me to process. One of the girls screams behind her gag and another one joins her. A few more join in but no one beyond the door seems to notice and eventually, we all quiet again, each of us trying to cope in our own ways.

An unknown amount of time passes and suddenly the doors slam open again. The men return but there is no sign of the first girl. They head towards the second girl and grab her the same way, ignoring her wails from behind the gag and her desperate struggling against her bonds. They leave with her, just like before.

It becomes a pattern. The men come and take the next girl in line every so often and none of us know what to expect or how to stop it. Soon, I’m up next. It’s been so long since I woke up that I’ve stopped crying already. My arms are sore from being tied up and my legs are numb from sitting.

The doors slam open again and I’m carried away. I’m brought to a room surrounded by lights, the sudden brightness making me squint and blink. When my vision focuses again, I realize the men are gone and I’m alone. I’m surrounded by cameras, and there’s a large screen in front of me playing a live feed of the room, and I see myself. My hair is tangled, my eyes are red from crying, and I look terrified. What’s next to the footage is what makes my blood run cold. It’s a chat box, and I can see the comments coming in. Comments about how I look, about how excited viewers are for the “show,” and how much they think I’m worth. I realize in that moment that I’m being livestreamed and about to be sold off to the highest bidder.

A door opens and a man walks in. He’s wearing a mask that covers most of his face and he has on a microphone that I can only assume let’s him talk to the stream’s viewers.

“Welcome! Our next lovely girl is here with us now. You all know the rules, if you win the auction, you must transfer funds immediately and she will be prepared for shipment or pick-up, depending on your preference. Let’s begin.”

He walks toward me, and I whimper behind the gag, terrified of what’s to come. He pulls out a pair of scissors, and swiftly cuts away at my clothes, pulling them off my naked body and I’m crying now. I can see myself on the screen, my sobs making my body shake as I try my best to curl into myself.

The comments start to flood into the chat box now, people discussing my body, my tits, my pussy. I see bids start to come in too, and part of me is shocked to see the amount of money these people are throwing out.

The man comes back into my view and he’s holding a vibrator in his hand. I wail behind the gag, shaking my head and struggling uselessly in my bonds. He isn’t deterred and I watch as he clicks it on. I’m straining to close my legs but the ropes are too tight and chair too unyielding. He brings the vibrator between my legs and I wail when I feel it touch my clit. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, he presses the vibrating head directly onto my clit and holds it there, letting the vibrations batter me.

I scream behind the gag as I feel the sensation overwhelm me. At first, the fear dampened any pleasure but as the seconds dragged on and the vibrator stayed pressed up against my most delicate area, I could feel my body reacting. Waves of stimulation crash over me and I can feel the first inklings of an orgasm starting to build. The man keeps the horrible vibrator on my pulsing clit and my tears are now in response to the unbearable pleasure that I never wanted, and certainly not like this.

The vibrator pushes my body closer and closer to a wrecking orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than feel it happen. I arch my back and squirm as much as I can when the incomprehensible pleasure crescendos and I shatter. I can feel my pussy clenching around nothing and gushing out my release, my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat, and my mind fading to a haze of pleasure and pain as the vibrator continues to ravage me.

“Orgasm in one minute and 37 seconds, and she’s a squirter,” the man announces matter-of-factly. “Let’s see how hard we can push her.”

I look up from tear-blurred eyes, seeing the comments flood in on the chat box on screen. I’ve always been sensitive post-orgasm and the fact that the man hasn’t pulled away the vibrator is pushing me into a painful overstimulation that’s making my stomach clench in fear. He reaches down with his free hand and maneuvering around the vibrator to pull back the soft skin that normally surrounds my clit, protecting it. My eyes widen and I let out a guttural scream behind the gag as the overwhelming, horrible vibrator now decimates my clit with nothing to soften the nerve-fraying stimulation.

I feel my eyes roll up into my head and my body is thrown into a second orgasm with no preparation. Just pure, unstoppable pleasure that burns every single nerve in my body. I can’t even breathe or scream or cry as my entire being is locked in a soul-shattering explosion that seems to go on forever.

I have no idea how much time passes or how many orgasms that terrible pleasure is able to tear from my body before the vibrator finally moves away. I’m shaking, crying, gasping for air and my clit is burning and twitching from the continued stimulation.

When I finally gather myself enough to open my eyes and see the on-screen chat box, I feel my heart stutter when I read some of the things people are saying.

“Fuck, she’s hot like that, I wonder if she’d survive a day strapped to a fucking machine.”

“I want to string her up and see how good of a whipping she could handle before she begs.”

“Her little clitty looks perfect for a piercing, and I could run electricity through it and really make her scream and cum.”

That last one makes me whimper and I pull my attention away from the screen, hoping that this nightmare is almost over.

“Now for a change of pace,” the man says from across the room. My eyes dart over to him and see that the men who’d brought me here are back again, rolling in a different chair, this one built like a gynecologist’s exam table with stirrups. I shake slightly in fear as they approach me and untie me before manhandling me into the exam chair. I’m too weak to even resist as they strap my body down, my feet going into the stirrups and my legs, arms, and body immobilized with straps.

The men leave and I look up at the livestream of myself, seeing how fear has made my eyes wide with gruesome anticipation. I can see clearly in the video, my clit looking so red and angry while my pussy still drips from the torment of pleasure they’d subjected me to moments before. I watch as the masked man approaches me, wheeling over a tray containing more horrible toys and devices.

He pulls a metal speculum off the tray and comes to stand before me. I’m shaking with terror, desperately trying to beg from behind the gag. He’s uncaring as he slides the device against my pussy, pushing the cold, hard metal inside of me. My back arches as my pussy fills and I whine, wishing that I didn’t find this violation pleasurable.

The man starts to crank the handle of the device, the motion forcing the speculum to open me up. I can’t help but moan, feeling an unbearable fullness start to build as the device pushes my pussy wide open. Eventually, he stops and takes a step back.

I watch through the livestream as he grabs a long, thin wand from the tray and comes back. I can feel my pussy pulsing around the speculum holding me open, and I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent whatever deranged thing he plans on doing next.

“Let’s see how she reacts to some internal stimulation.”

Without any other warning, the man slides the thin wand into me and presses a button that makes it start emitting a low pulsing vibration. He brushes against the walls of my pussy and I shake at the onslaught of pleasure. The speculum gives him easy, perfect access and the thin wand means he has every bit of precision at his disposal as he targets my most vulnerable places.

I choke on a gasp when he finds my g-spot and presses into it with heart-stopping accuracy. I feel my toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head as painful, unbearable pleasure overwhelms me. He turns up the wand to an unimaginable intensity and drives it into the tenderness of my pussy. I cum immediately. My pussy gushes and my juices flood out of me as the pleasure ravages my body with no mercy.

Just like with my clit, the man doesn’t let up. I’m locked in this impossible pleasure and overstimulation as my vision goes white and my body feels ripped to shreds by every orgasm that pours out of me.

When he finally stops, I don’t even feel human anymore. My mind is empty, there is absolutely nothing left other than the pure pleasure that laid waste to my entire being. I’m vaguely aware of the man announcing final call for bids but I’m too incoherent to really register what is going on around me. Suddenly, I feel a prick on my arm and slowly turn my head to watch a syringe pull out of my arm. My head spins and I feel sleep encroaching on my mind.

Just before my darkness overwhelms my vision and I sink into unconsciousness, I catch a glance of the screen and see how much money was spent on me. There’s a muted sense of astonishment. It’s more money than I could even fathom, more than I could make in a lifetime. And someone just spent it on me, in exchange for my complete ownership.

#nsft concept #overstim kink #dark fantasy #cl1t torture #mind break #rap3 fantasy #kidnap fantasy #overstim nsft #rough kink #medfet #cl!t torture

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sowhumpful · 7 months

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#whump #knife #held at knifepoint #knife to the throat #terrified #fear #helpless #antonio banderas #Movie Black Butterfly #tied up #duct tape #restrained #tied to a chair #struggle against the bonds #struggle against the duct tape

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dilfsfordinner · 7 months

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a/n- this is how i cope with aot ending

pairing- husband gojo x wife!reader

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“Satoru, I’m back!” you called out, feet quickly slipping and kicking your shoes at the front door, arms struggling to keep the 10 grocery bags you had balanced from smashing to the floor.

“‘m sorry it took so long-” shuffling to the kitchen, you continued to talk to the open space, assuming your husband was actually listening, “-traffic was terrible. I didn’t even think it could snow this early.”

Your words trailed off into little mumbles, talking to yourself about every irritant you’d encountered in the grocery store. It was strangely quiet in the house, the usual squeals of laughter and giddy conversations gone from the common routine, the oddity oblivious to you and your focused state.

Leaning back with your hands on your hips, you sighed in relief, muscles relaxing as you took in your good work, cabinets full and refrigerator stocked, the kitchen now completely organized to perfection. Humming contentedly, the previous relief you’d felt turned awry, smile disappearing from your lips.

It was so.. quiet. Too quiet.

“..Toru.?” for the first time in the last 20 minutes, it had finally clicked that something was off. A kiss and hug weren’t given to you at the door, the tv was off, there was no nighttime bath running for Megumi. Everything was so still and silent.

Padding throughout the house, you quickly checked every room, the empty spaces throwing your brain into panic mode, all your worries coming to mind as you looked for your husband and little boy.

After your thorough search, one room remained, the door of your shared bedroom just the slightest bit ajar.

You were about to call for him again when a familiar tuft of white hair caught your eye. Pushing into the room, you took in probably one of the cutest sights you’d ever seen.

There, curled up in bed, fetal position, was your 6’6” husband, his chest slowly rising and falling with the pattern of sleep. Almost laughing at yourself for being so worried, you inched closer to your side of the bed, about to join him under the covers.

A patch of black hair stopped you this time though, little Megumi hidden in the pool of blankets that surrounded him and your lover’s bodies. Stifling an ‘aww’, you fought off the urge to film the two of them, Megumi’s little fingers clutching onto Gojo’s shirt as the two of them snored.

His tiny form was nuzzled into Gojo’s side, chubby cheeks pushed against Satoru’s ribs, drool collecting at the corner of his mouth, staining your man’s new, black sleep shirt, a fact you ignored as you imagined Gojo’s melodramatics certain to occur.

Although they acted like yin and yang, the way Gojo cradled him was so sweet, you really had to fight off the waterworks. His large hands held the little boy securely, long fingers resting on Megumi’s back and head, keeping him close, protecting him, like a real father would for his son.

Leaning down, you brushed Satoru’s hair away from his forehead, leaving a gentle kiss to his porcelain skin, then continuing to do the same to little Megs, the young boy’s breath hitching, dark eyelashes fluttering before his quiet snores started back up, fingers curling even tighter around Gojo’s sweater.

Tip-toeing to the door, you looked back one more time, the two of them nestled perfectly in a sea of blankets. “My sweet boys..” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head with a smile as you turned out of the room, clicking the door shut, leaving your two favorite people to their much needed rest filled bonding time.

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#gege’s gonna cry #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #husband gojo #gojo satoru fluff #dad gojo #baby megumi #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x reader

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illyrianbitch · 13 days

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An Evening Reunion

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel comes home from a mission. You talk to him about your day, but he’s far more interested in you—and your silk nightgown.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship fluff, lil domestic moments, az coming home from a mission, reader serving cunt in a nightgown, suggestive sexual content, basically dry humping, boners, and allusions to sex

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

based on this ask!! youve done the lords work!!

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The evening was still and quiet, a content feeling lingering in the air as if the world had enjoyed its day and was happily ready to yield to the night.

It had, indeed, been a good day, a really good day. You had no complaints— except one. You missed your mate. Azriel had been so busy recently, chasing fading whispers and potential leads. He was running himself ragged, returning every night exhausted and sore. What would make today perfect for you was something you were sure would make Azriel’s day end properly— a nice, warm embrace.

Faintly, your ears picked up the sound of the door opening, a small creaking that you’d grown to love. Your heart leapt as you pushed yourself out of bed, the floor cold against your bare feet as you made your way out of the bedroom and through the hallway.

A window was open in the living room, a decision you had made earlier to welcome the beautiful weather. You had forgotten about the decision until now, until the cool breeze met your body and you shivered, nipples hardening under the thin material of your silk nightgown.

A familiar scent of night-chilled leather and something uniquely him filled the room, carried by the gentle night breeze. You took in a deep breath, letting the air and the smell of your mate fill your senses. A smile began to gnaw at your lips as you rounded the corner, eyes landing on Azriel’s form.

His wings were folded tightly against his back as he shrugged off his jacket, shadows swirling and flickering around his form like restless children. You knew that they got tired on these long missions sometimes, too. Your heart ached at the sight of two beings you loved so dearly being so evidently exhausted.

Sensing your presence, Azriel’s eyes immediately found yours, and the weariness in his face softened into a look of pure affection. His movements stilled, shadows seemingly calming, then, as if sensing his relief. Within seconds, they surged towards you, encircling you in a cool, loving embrace. You laughed softly, the sensation tickling your skin.

You smiled at your mate. “Welcome home.”

His gaze softened even further, a deep warmth kindling within your chest as he tugged on your bond— that divine, beautiful bond.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured, crossing the room in a few long strides. He brought you into a quick, tight embrace, a hand placed on the back of your head as he pressed a faint kiss to your forehead.

When he broke apart with a sigh, you reached up to run a comforting hand over his arm. “Rough day?”

He shrugged, but his shoulders relaxed under your touch. “Better now.”

You gave him a sympathetic glance, brows furrowing at the tension etched into his features. You took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips to place a kiss on his knuckles. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Azriel only nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as he followed you down into the hallway, closing the bedroom door with his heel as you pulled him inside.

Piece by piece, you helped him remove his leathers, fingers softly undoing the buckles and straps. You let out a small laugh at the motions, memories of the start of your relationship bubbling to the brink of your mind— a time where you’d struggle to remove these same buckles and straps, when you’d get so frustrated and curse both your mate and his clothing. Not that you knew he was your mate at that point, but something inside you had convinced you that he was worthy enough of the patience it took to navigate the countless aspects of his fighting leathers.

“What is it?” Azriel asked softly, “What's so funny?”

You shook your head, drawing your lips in between your teeth. “Just remembering a time when I couldn’t remove these damned things.”

Azriel let out a laugh then, too. “And now look, you’re an expert.”

You looked up to meet his eyes. “I know. Call me the mate of the century.”

He let out another small chuckle, a dimpled smile forming on his face. A wave of silence fell upon you as each piece of clothing fell to the floor with a soft clunk, a sound made from both the metal clasps and the hidden assortment of weapons inside. Picking it all up was a problem for tomorrow. You made a mental note of it and stored it away in your mind.

Azriel let out a sigh of relief as the final pieces of his armor fell away. He peeled off the rest of his clothing, leaving him in just his underwear as he took a step closer to you. You tried not to stare at the beautiful form before you, at the ripple of his muscles. Gods, it was a sight you’d never tire of.

“Come here,” he said, gently pulling you onto the bed with him. He laid back against the pillows, his wings spreading slightly to accommodate your weight as you settled yourself atop him, straddling his hips. His hands found your waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the silk of your nightgown, a cool trail of shadows following and exaggerating his every move.

“Tell me about your day.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. “Nesta and I walked around town for a bit. We found this little bookstore she loved. And then I baked with Elain. We made those dark chocolate cupcakes you like.”

He hummed appreciatively, hands rubbing gentle circles on your hips. “Sounds nice.”

You started to roll your hips, slowly, almost absentmindedly— a movement that you’d grown used to from other times spent in this same position. “It was. Elain sent some home for you.”

Azriel’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his attention divided between your words and the steady, tantalizing motion of your body against his. “I can’t wait to try them.”

His fingers traced up your sides, one hand gently pushing your hair away from your neck to expose the sensitive skin to him. You shuddered at his touch, at the light brush of his fingertips. His hands were still cold from outside, and the tendrils of smoke, of shadow, that wrapped around his wrist made the feeling even stronger.

“And then we… oh,” you whispered, breath hitching as his nose brushed against your neck, face nuzzling into the crook of it. You felt the heat of his breath against your skin as he traced a path up your throat, a warm ripple of excitement running down your spine.

You tried to stay focused, asking him a question about his day and his input for tomorrow's plans. Cassian’s birthday was next week, and you and Az still had to decide on what you wanted to give him. The plan, supposedly, was to go out tomorrow and finalize your gifts. But your mate's attention seemed elsewhere. You let out a small laugh. “Az, are you even listening?”

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, gaze dark with desire, pupils now blown out. “Baby,” he said, “How can I when you look so good, and smell fucking divine.”

You let out a breath as a blush crept up your cheeks, the warmth radiating throughout your body. His hands tightened on your hips as he pulled you closer, his arousal now evident beneath you, large and wanting. “No, no,” he murmured, his voice husky with need, “Keep talking.”

“Alright,” you responded quietly, but your heart was no longer in the conversation. Instead, you focused on his hardening length beneath you, at the movement of your hips and the growing heat in your stomach. Azriel’s breathing grew more labored beneath you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “And then we—”

You faltered as Azriel began to roll his hips, a whine leaving your lips as his hands slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled you into a searing kiss, mouth slotting over yours naturally— needy and eager.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, hands tightening around you as he urged you to continue moving against him— a request you gave into immediately, a pool of desire beginning to wet both your nightwear and his. He deepened the kiss, tongue brushing against yours, and there was a certain tremor in his muscles— a barely restrained hunger as he started to thrust up.

His hand tightened around your waist, the other sliding down to grab your ass, guiding you with a firm, insistent touch. His shadows coiled around your thighs as you parted from him, heavily breathing against his lips, “I'm getting the feeling that you’ve missed me.”

Azriel’s laugh was deep and rich, the sound vibrating through his chest as his lips remained pressed to yours. “Unbelievably so,” he muttered, capturing your lips in another hungry kiss, pulling you even closer.

You let out a sound of protest as he pulled away again, but it quickly turned into one of pleasure as his mouth trailed down to your collarbone, pressing heated kisses along your shoulder. The strap of your nightgown slipped down, baring more of your skin to his eager mouth.

"S'pretty," Az purred against your skin, fingers delicately tugging the strap down further. "I like this."

“Yeah?” Threading your fingers through his hair, you tugged lightly at his scalp, drawing his attention back to you. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you and you throbbed as he ran his tongue over his lips. “Show me how much.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

whoever sent that ask....i love u and u got me writing faster than any deadline <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin

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unidentifiedgothamite · 23 days

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dick: what are you guys doing?

tim, frozen in surprise, as damian struggled against his bonds, apples scattered around them: uh... it's not what it looks like

steph, oblivious: i got it! he's 11 apples tall

jason, a little shit: damn, we were one off. i thought it'd be 10

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purplesuitcowboy · 19 days

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tw: incest (older brother x younger sister), and rape

“Are you sure that I have to sit like this for you to work on your knot tying? This is a really weird class project.” his baby sister asked from her position on the floor. Sophie awkwardly sat hunched over on her knees with her hands clasped together under her ass.

“Yeah, that’s what the instructor said,” Cade told her, tying her clasped hands tightly to her feet. She gritted her teeth as the course rope dug into her skin.

“Be careful! That hurts."

He tugged at the ropes, and when he was satisfied with their tautness, he moved away from her to look over his handy work.

“Okay, try it now," he continued, like he hadn't heard her. "Can you move?”

She squirmed, trying to get free, but she only managed to lurch forward, landing on her shoulder and her cheek. While she struggled, her brother sat back on his haunches, admiring her tight ass as it wriggled in his face. Her little denim shorts were pulled tight over her cunt highlighting the shape of her pussy lips. Absentmindedly, he palmed at his hardening cock through his jeans.

“Alright, I can’t get up,” she said to him as she continued to struggle against her bounds. “Can you untie me now?”

“In a minute, I just want to try something first,” he told her.

“Cade, no,” she replied annoyed. “Untie me, now.”

Instead of untying her, he leaned forward and grabbed the rope that bound her hands to pull her towards him. She grunted as her knees and shoulders dragged against the rough ground. If this situation wasn't bad enough, she was going to get grass in her hair. He positioned himself between her legs. He placed his hands on her ass, rubbing at the soft flesh appreciatively. He slapped one of her ass cheeks and then the other, enjoying the way her ass shook in response to his actions.

"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Cade, let me go."

Her brother laughed as he rubbed at the reddened skin. "I don't know, Sophie. I think, I prefer you like this. It suits you."

"That's not funny," she told him which earned her a snort from her brother.

"Who said that I was joking?" To the best of her ability, she gawked at him. He treated her to a smile in return. His precious baby sister, she had no idea that'd been day dreaming about fucking her for months. She lounged around the house in her skimpy tank tops and short shorts, seemingly inviting him to bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck her until she couldn't stand. He'd say that she was doing it on purpose if he didn't know how she was. She was innocent. Their parents had always been protective of her, shielding her from the world through homeschooling. It was a shame that they couldn't shield her from him.

He rested one hand on her ass, and over the denim of her shorts, rubbed at her pussy with his thumb. She felt a warmth bloom between her legs as he continued to rub at her pussy through her shorts. She wasn't entirely sure why by his touch was making her feel weird. She squirmed in her bonds, trying to make the feeling go away but it didn't work. Cade pulled her back him, grabbing her by her bound hands and yanking her closer. He rooted around in his pockets and pulled out his utility knife. At the familiar sound of the knife edge releasing from its sheath, Sophie relaxed, expecting him to finally relent and cut her free. She was confused, however,when he slipped the blade under the crotch her of her shorts. She could feel the cool metal through her panties and it made her shiver.

"Cade," she asked him, cautiously. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her question, focusing his attention on cutting open the crotch of her shorts and then her underwear. He pulled at the fabric, getting it out of his way. Finally, he could see her sweet pussy. The juicy pink flesh reminded him of ripe summer strawberries. Entranced, he dipped his head down between her legs to suck on her clit. Sophie gasps at the sensation, and tries to wriggle away from him.

"Wait, no. Don't put your mouth down there. That's gross."

"It's okay," he said, easing a finger into her hole. "It's just the two of us. You don't have to pretend that you don't like it."

She gasp at the intrusion, clenching her pussy around his finger. He dipped his head back down between her legs, licking and sucking while he slowly pumped his finger in and out. The taste of her was almost addictive. He wasn't in such a hurry to fuck her, he'd spend all day like this with his mouth on her cunt, lapping up her juices. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch out her hole, which earned him a whine from his sister. Despite her earlier resistance, she kept trying to rock her hips back onto his fingers and tongue.

"Uh, Cade," she told him, amid her pants and whines. "You gotta stop. I feel weird."

He didn't stop, though, just continued to fuck her with his fingers and his until her words had turned into unintelligible babbling. She quivered and shook while she came, her toes curling and hands clenching around nothing as her body was wracked with pleasure. Cade was greedy. One orgasm wasn't enough. He wanted to watch her come apart at his hands. He kept licking her, kept pumping her pussy with his fingers until she came again. He liked her tied up like this, at his mercy and unable to do anything to stop him.

Unable to resist any longer, he removed his fingers from her cunt to release his cock from the confines of his jeans. She craned her head to see what was happening but through the haze of pleasure, couldn't really decipher what she was seeing. Why was he taking his man-thing out? Rubbing the head of his cock against her slick lips, he coated himself in her juices. He positioned the head at her entrance, and in one stroke, filled her completely.

She let out a yelp, surprised by the sudden painful intrusion. She felt like she was being split in half. She felt like he was trying to plow through her pussy and straight into her guts. Her eyes began to well with tears as her body was overwhelmed with sensations. Cade grunted from his position above her, as he fucked her. She felt even better than he thought that she would. He should have given her a moment to adjust, he knew she was a virgin, but he couldn't wait any longer. He'd go easier on her the next time.

Gradually, she began to adjust to the sensation and it stopped being painful. She still ached, but it was accompanied by pleasure. She was chanting her brother's name as he fucked her. Her voice spiked into a pleasured squeal as his fingers found her clit.

"Come on, I know you have another one in you," he told her.

She didn't believe him. She was so achy and sensitive but she felt warm beginning to grow in her gut. It grew and grew until it overwhelmed her and she came again. His orgasm quickly followed. He pushed his cock in deeper and deeper until the head kissed her cervix. With a loud groan, he filled her cunt with his cum. His cock felt uncomfortably sensitive as he pulled out of her cunt, it seemed to cling to his shaft like it didn't want him to leave. His cum leaked out of her cunt, dripping onto her bound hands and feet.

"Okay," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Now, I think that I can let you go."

#this took so goddamn long my god #lets all pretend like she wouldn't be able to move very much #cnc fr33use #cnc k!nk #fauxcest #rap3 fantasy #rough cnc #rough kink #1cky thoughts #1cky br0ther #1cky princess #abuse k1nk

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marvelfilth · 7 days

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A glimpse of you (18+)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pet names

Summary: She looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep. And then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. Wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder.

Masterlist

Sometimes, Wanda sees the future.

The glimpses catch her off guard, always appearing without a warning, always vague and always too short to properly comprehend. She only understands them once they come true, after hours of contemplation. That doesn't apply to you.

The first vision you bring her is short and simple to understand - a glimpse into a few days after the New Year's, you, laughing at some silly joke, and her, watching you from afar with a content smile on her lips.

It brings her a sense of comfort. A sense of peace.

The second vision brings nothing, but trouble.

She's late to one of Team-bonding nights Steve made everyone attend, and you're already there, sitting on the floor with your legs tucked under you. She walks up to you, intending to sit by your side, only to gasp when a vision hits her just as her hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

Your face is a mess of mascara and tears, you lips red and swollen, wide open, with saliva and who knows what else dripping down your chin.

She blinks out of it, nearly falling to the floor. You look at her with concern in your eyes, frowning. She struggles to breathe, avoiding your eyes, her face burning with shame.

“What's wrong?” Your voice rings in her ears.

What's wrong? It echoes insides her head and she shuts her eyes forcefully, but the image of you on your knees is still there.

She manages a strangled smile, one that does nothing to convince you, and abruptly walks away, planting herself on the couch near Sam instead.

She avoids you for the rest of the week, hiding in her room. The image of you on your knees for her, your pupils blown with arousal, haunts her, makes her treacherous fingers skim past her underwear and slide inside.

She would be the last to admit her attraction to you, no matter what Nat says about you returning her feelings. The spy claims she sees what the witch doesn't, but her words were never enough for Wanda to muster up the courage to admit her feelings. Now, though, she knows for sure. Her visions are always true.

The information makes her chest flutter. You will be hers. Soon.

Another vision hits her months later, when she finally got over the first one, finally able to stay in your vicinity without completely drenching her panties.

You're cuddling on her bed, watching one of those slashers you're so obsessed with. She grinds her jaw every time you comment on how hot the lead actress is. But then, long after midnight when the movie is almost over, you grow quiet, your body limp in her arms. She looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep.

And then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. Wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder. Your tank top is pushed down to reveal your supple breasts, pink nipples glistening with her saliva. She pinched one between her fingers, enjoying the way your back arches, your ass pressing against her pelvis.

The vision disappears as quickly as it came, leaving her out of breath and painfully aroused. She gulps, praying her hammering heart does not wake you, her hands hovering over you, unsure.

She closes her eyes, biting her lip hard. She needs to get a grip before she does something she'll regret.

But you're right there, nestled between her legs. The tank top is the one from the vision. She can see your hardened nipples strain against the fabric.

Would it be so bad to tug it down and touch? You will be hers soon, she knows it, so what would it matter if she gets a glimpse before it happens? She hisses in a breath, fighting with herself. It isn't right, but the temptation is too strong.

She'll just look, she decides. One small peak to satisfy her curiosity. It won't be any different from seeing one of her visions, she tells herself.

Slowly her fingers clasp the hem of your top, gently tugging it down. She licks her lips, swallowing down a moan when she finally sees your perfect breasts, so soft and oh so perfect.

How can she help herself now?

She cups your left breast, enjoying the weight of it in her hand, and squeezes softly, her thumb circling your perky nipple. You shift between her legs, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck, and sigh contentedly. She lets out a breath, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her other hand playing with the hem of your shorts almost unconsciously.

She'll stop herself before she gets too far, she's sure of it.

A thought occurs in her head, and she releases your breast and licks her thumb, coating it in her spit. It's not the same as having her mouth on you, but it's the next best thing, so she presses her wet thumb against your nipple, smearing her saliva.

You whine in your sleep, and she sees your legs clench. She startles, and grips you harder, making your hips buckle.

“Shh,” she whispers in your ear, pressing a wet kiss just under it, “it's alright, kitten. It's just a dream.” She can't stop herself now, continuing a wet path of kisses down your throat, biting gently at the juncture of your neck. “Fuck,” she breathes, when you arch into her, your breast spilling from her hand. Her fingers disappear under the waistband of your shorts.

She closes her eyes tightly when she's met with slick, wet heat, her finger gently circling your clit, teasing. You gasp, your brows furrowed, but you don't wake, mumbling something incomprehensible in your sleep.

“Good girl,” she praises your sleeping form, daring to push her fingers inside, stretching your tight pussy around her long digits. “Good fucking girl,” she rasps, panting in your ear, grinding against your ass in search of relief.

She finds the right angle, buckling her hips and thrusting inside you. Slowly and carefully. Holding you tight against her front.

You can't wake up, not now.

Your whines turn into strangled moans and your hips move against her hand. She savour the sight of you. You're hers.

Your cunt clenches as you come, your breathing short and ragged. She's follows suit, burrowing her face in your hair, her walls clenching around nothing.

You turn in her arms, throwing your leg over her hips, and her hand slips out of your shorts. You look so perfect like this, your chest rising with each panting breath you take, your nipples begging for her mouth. Your face scrunches up when she presses her thigh between her legs, and you try to move away, but she doesn't let you. She touches your lower lip with her wet fingers, and pushes inside the heat of your mouth.

“Good kitten,” she whispers feverishly, “You did good, my darling.”

You sag against her, and she feels your wetness drip down her leg. Wands frowns, feeling an undeniable evidence of what she's done.

You'll have questions when you wake up.

That simply won't do.

She shifts, placing you on her pillows, pushing your hair away from your face. She hovers over you, drinking in the sight.

She kisses your chest once, twice, thrice and now she can't stop herself. She needs to worship.

She takes a nipple into her mouth, sucking gently, and moans around it. So fucking perfect. She stays playing with your breasts, nibbling and sucking and licking, leaving it red and wet with her spit.

Your shift away, and she pushes up on her elbows, watching your eyes flutter. Panic explodes in her chest. She rises, face to face with you, and watches your eyes open.

“Wands?” You mumble, your eyes falling shut again.

“It's alright, baby, go back to sleep,” she cooes, nuzzling your cheek, “it's just a dream.”

You nod sleepily, and turn to lay on your stomach, snoring lightly.

She waits a few moments, watching you sleep, and battles with herself. She almost got caught, should she continue?

She licks her lips, and traces patterns at the low of your back. She can't leave you like this now, she decides.

She tugs down your shorts along with your underwear, and pushes a pillow under your hips, gulping when she finally sees your drenched pussy, your pink lips glistening with arousal.

She doesn't waste another moment and presses her mouth against your heat, moaning at the taste. You shudder, your whimpers muffled against the pillow, but she can't be stopped now. She licks your folds, drinking in your wetness, her tongue circling your entrance. She pushes inside without a second thought, and presses her thumb against your clit.

You're simply devine.

Her tongue moves inside you, filling you up, and you're so close already, she can feel your walls clenching around the wet muscle. She hums, palmimg your ass hard enough to leave a bruise, and plays with your clit. Wetness gushes out of you and she cleans you right up, starved.

She licks her way out of your tight cunt, sucking in your clit and pushing her finger inside instead. You moan loudly, grinding against her face, and with one last thrust you come, shaking in her hold.

She pulls out carefully, pressing tiny kisses to your folds, collecting the last bits of your arousal, before sliding your shorts and underwear back up. She wipes her mouth, not bothering to hide her wide smile and lays down beside you, almost purring when you latch onto her.

She pulls you against her chest, enveloping you in her arms, and closes her eyes. She'll worry about the consequences tomorrow.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #scarlet witch x female reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #a glimpse of you

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