#restraint Tumblr posts

  • if you know about it say nothing of the details

    -character (becomes caretaker immediately upon doing so) restrains much stronger character. what are my options

    @whumped-cream @whump-a-roo @whumpitywhumpwhump @whumpstash @i-write-whump


    #restraint#whump#whump fic #I wrote that piece myself Hal
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  • image

    Yes, this. But I’m getting close to the edge.

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  • Genre: Mature/Smut, Oneshot, No plot

    Pairing: Jeongin (IN) X Fem!Reader

    Word Count: ~5,9K

    Warnings: Dom!Idol, Sub!Reader, Dirty talking, Humiliation, Orgasm denying/edging, Restraint, Blindfold, Cum eating, Language (Fuck/Slut/Whore), Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms

    Notes: Well, I deleted it to repost it because of the tags and deleted it again. So it’s the third time I post it and I can’t really remember what I wrote before. Anyway, Always open to any feedback! Especially vocabulary ones. Please, be aware I’m practicing my writing and I’m not too comfortable with penetrative sex yet so I’m not so sure about this


        You hated not being able to see your boyfriend.

        Jeongin wasn’t really the kind to have tons of free time to spend with you. He had a lot of promotions to do as an Idol, so, figuratively speaking, you couldn’t see your boyfriend most of your days. You made up for it by not getting your eyes off him every time you were together, making sure to touch him as much as you could, cuddle him, pepper him with kisses…

        All lovey-dovey.

        Of course, as his girlfriend, you used these loving antics to mock him, teasing him, pampering him in front of his teammates, gushing about how cute he was, how tiny and fluffy he could be. He hated it. You knew far too well how he hated it and yet you did it every time you were with them, kissed him all over his face, pinched his cheeks as if he was a baby, nuzzled his nose…

       That was the main reason he punished you once in a while.

       And that was the main reason you teased him every time.

       You should have known better than tease him by ignoring him, though.

       You didn’t spare a glance at him as you came into the dorm, heading to his teammates, hugging all of them before gasping at Changbin, squeezing his arms slightly, and praising how manly he was… You even went to the extent of saying you would love to touch Jeongin’s arms if they were like this but he was just a cute little bun. It was needless to say he didn’t speak one word as he drove you to your house later.

        To be fair, you deserved this.

        You hated not being able to see your boyfriend.

        And this time it couldn’t get more literal than that.

        The blindfold was soft on your skin, a silky texture that covered your eyes, engulfing you in the darkness. It stuck to your head tightly, not falling even after you rubbed your head against the mattress, in a vain attempt to take it off. Objectively speaking, it couldn’t hurt you but your core ached to disagree.

       There is a funny thing about being unable to see anything… Your body just responds to it enhancing its other senses, trying to see without the eyes. Getting alert. Your body was no different, and you couldn’t help but pay attention to every other feeling that tortured you in the dark.


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    #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz scenario#skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids scenario #jeongin#jeongin smut#IN#IN smut #Stray kids x reader #skz x reader #Jeongin x reader #kpop smut#blindfold#restraint#skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz#stray kids#yang jeongin
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  • this list | msr | set during 7x14 theef | smut/pwp, established relaitonship | 2.2k words | nc-17 | ao3 link

    prompt 20: “did i ask?”

    for the anon who asked for scully edging mulder. 

    tagging: @today-in-fic @xffictober


    In the car, he’s visibly uncomfortable, flushed all the way down his neck. Lips pressed together too tightly, every muscle stiff.

    “Mulder,” she says, keeping her eyes on the map. “Are you alright?”

    “Oh, I’m fine.” 

    His throat bobs. Scully hides a smile. 

    “Just fine,” he says, roughly. 

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    #the x files #txf fanfic#msr fanfic#msr#fictober20 #fictober.2020 #restraint #oh this is FILTHY #finally some proper dom scully. finally #i have been sitting on all these ideas for months but i never actually wrote it #and honestly every time i wonder what was going on during theef i always go oh he was absolutely being edged #so here we are
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  • I would not submit to his beliefs. I believed, and I still believe, that some periods of human history and some phases of human culture are better than others, and that it isn’t always the creeping toward perfection that I know you want to believe in. Some codes are better than the codes that displace them; and I believe this is a corrupt age because it accepts everything as equal to everything else, and because it values indulgence more than restraint. I guess I honor the Roman republic more than the empire. The one believed in austere virtue, and the other had bread and circuses, like ourselves…You don’t have to shoot yourself like a Dostoevski intellectual to assert the will. You don’t have to commit whimsical existential crimes to prove your freedom. You can take hold of yourself, like training a horse, and that is both pleasure and morality.

    ― Wallace Stegner, All the Little Live Things (Penguin Books, December 1, 1991, first published 1967

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  • Taken

    Wrapping the plaid scarf tight around my neck, I stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind me. 

    A hand grabbed it, forcing it back open. “Don’t forget the chocolate,” Declan yelled, leaning out the door of our apartment, before being pulled back inside by his shirt collar. I shook my head, lips twitching in a slight grin. “Carmel and Hazelnut, Amara! Don’t fecking forget!” 

    “Get the heck inside, man, before someone hears you” Liam grumbled, the door slamming shut. I shook my head, jogging down the staircase to the ground floor. Outside, the autumn breeze caught my hair, whipping strands around my face. 

    Despite the coldness, I embraced the sweet smell of rain, the crunch of fallen leaves under my boots. Declan and I decided the small town of Wolfville had a good … atmosphere, as Liam declared. We, our small group of runaways, wanted somewhere quiet and rural to settle. If only for a little while. 

    And it had been good, so far. 

    Locals didn’t question us, assuming we were university students from campus a few miles away, and welcomed us with open arms. Just yesterday, the three of us had been in town, adventuring, like we did every Saturday morning.

    Declan joked with a few older women, while Liam questioned a man an incident at the shipyard. I had enjoyed the coziness of the little bakery, huddled up with a doggy-eared book, occasionally casting curious looks when the bell dinged and customers flooded in and out.

    “Would you like a refill, dear?” Dorthy asked, the owner of the store, gesturing to my empty cup of coffee. 

    I offered a small smile. “I’m about to head out, actually,” I said, “a few more errands to run.” Don’t forget the chocolate, Declan’s voice echoed in my head. How wonderful it was to worry about something so small, so simple, when the last year had been nothing but harrowing. 

    “I’ll meet you at the cash -” 

    The sharp jingle of the bell above the bakery door cut her off. We both looked up and I sucked in a deep breath. 

    The two men in white stepped in. They both sported pristine white scrubs, each with a taser and radio at their hips. Handlers

    These two know how to make an entrance, I thought, shrinking into my seat. Most of the customers gave them an odd look of wonder, turning to their cups of espresso and company without a second thought. They were both young, dark hair, probably mid twenties. The tall one, with piercing hazel eyes, stepped forward, cautious as he searched the faces around him. 

    Red, the second handler, stayed by the entrance, blocking a potential escape attempt. No one seemed bothered by their presence, yet a cold shiver made its way up my spine. 

    My heart thumped, blood curdling in my veins. Keep quiet, don’t move, I thought, maybe that glanced around the cafe, eyes blank and calculating. Maybe, they will look right past me, not recognize my bleached hair and weathered clothes. Maybe -  

    Ms. Mayfield,” hazel eyes called, staring directly at me. 

    Nope, I’m a goner. 

    “Do not move,” he warned, charging forward. “I am -”

    I bolted, heaving the scalding coffee in the direction of the handler, hoping it’ll burn him. I gave two craps what he had to say, what he wanted. I sprinted for the back exit, the cashier gasping when I shoved her aside. 

    “Get the van. I can handle her.” I heard one of them call. 

    I scoffed, throwing open the heavy door at the back, bounding into the chilly wind once more. Hazel eyes was on my heels, refusing to let me get away. Panicked, I headed for the park, hoping to lose the handlers. The park had woods I could disappear into, to hide, to survive - anything but capture. 

    Capture meant a certain death. 

    Things were a blur as I dashed for the park, crossing streets, vehicles nearly taking me out. Drivers honked as I continued, shouts of anger falling on deaf ears. 

    In a slow whirl, I had slammed to the wet grass and a tangle of arms made my heart race, blood pounding in my ears. I couldn’t help but focus on the hands grabbing my waist, flashes of white over my head, the tinge of peppermint filling my nostrils. 

    “Don’t make this harder on yourself,” Hazel eyes warned, flipping me onto my back. He straddled my waist, using his weight hold me down as he reached behind him, baring a pair of handcuffs. 

    I fought him, thrashed and spit and swore, but it was no use. When he managed to encircle the metal around my wrists with a triumphant hmm, hauling me up to stand, I knew I’d made a mistake. 

    “You can run, but you can’t hide,” he sang, his hot breath tickling my neck. I lifted my lips in a sneer, spitting on his shoes. His calm, nonchalant demeanour faltered, but only for a second. “I’m Stephan, your new handler.” 

    “I don’t care what your name is, dipshit” I shouted, struggling in his hold. He let out a low, irritated breath, glancing up. The second handler rushed forward, seeming uncertain and flustered. Must be new to the game.

    “Sawyer, let’s get her secured in the van and radio into headquarters,” Stephan said, with a sickly sweet smile in my direction. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, Amara.”

    I kicked out my leg, catching Stephan in the shin. He groaned yet his hold never loosened. Sawyer took my forearm, jerking me forward. “Well, ain’t she a defiant little one,” he muttered, shoving me into the side of the vehicle, the back of my head bouncing off the metal. 

    The tall man stepped forward and smirked, a flash of hunger sweeping over his expression. “Mhm,” he said, winking, and reached out to stroke my cheek, “and the most fun to break.”

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  • @co-superman​ and @11ismyfavorite5ever​ I decided to split this off to a new post to talk about your concerns.   Once a post gets as long as that one does, it becomes hard to read and hard to answer.  

    My friend, @liliaeth​, yesterday brought to me an argument about ‘Scott’s selfishness’ that I’ve heard before and to me illustrates the empathy gap in the Teen Wolf fandom (and by extension, other fandoms) in a very concrete way.


    This criticism declares that in Restraint (2x07), Scott was incredibly selfish to want to remain with Allison while Erica was having a seizure in the next aisle of the library.  It’s used to prove that Scott is obsessed with Allison and that he only cares about what he wants.  

    How does this demonstrate the empathy gap?  Didn’t Scott want to stay with Allison rather than take Erica to Derek?  Yes.  But there are certain things that the fandom forgets – or more likely erases from their collective brain – that shows how little they care for the pain Scott is put through at the hands of villains.

    The length of time from when they notice the beginning of Erica’s seizure to when Scott carries her to Derek at Erica’s insistence is one minute and three seconds, from 33:27 to 34:30.  This includes a cut to black, discussion of what’s wrong with Erica, a discussion of what’s wrong with Matt, and an argument with Erica about where to take her.   Anyone with any knowledge of how to tell a story or shoot a television production will understand that the purpose of this scene wasn’t to highlight ‘Scott’s inherent selfishness’ but to illustrate how Scott’s sense of responsibility to keep people from dying in a middle of a war is taking a toll on his desired relationship with Allison – signaling the first signs of Allison’s and Scott’s eventual breakup.   It certainly wasn’t meant to demonstrate his obsession with Allison, as the result of this scene was that he left her alone to wait for an ambulance to help a girl who had threatened Allison at least twice.

    Here’s some other things that the fandom simply forgets in this scene.

    • Scott has reason to be afraid for Allison.  Kanima-Jackson had just written a threat on a chalkboard in the creepiest way imaginable: “Stay out of my way or I’ll kill all of you.”   Jackson is free and nearby, and Scott knows he’s being controlled by a master.   
    • Scott has reason to be afraid for Allison, specifically.  They were literally in detention because Scott walked in on Kanima-Jackson attacking Allison in the boy’s locker-room in a highly-sexualized manner.   
    • Scott has reason to be afraid that this will damage his relationship to Allison.  The production had made Scott keenly aware, from being stabbed by Gerard, being choked by Chris, being threatened by Victoria immediately before this scene, and being warned by Allison about not getting caught between them, that taking Erica and leaving Allison alone in a dangerous situation could be seen as choosing a side that’s not Allison’s!  

    But Erica is having a seizure!   Fandom forgets that Scott has plenty of reasons not to give a damn about Erica’s health problems.   

    • Scott saved Erica from a previous dangerous seizure, only for her to join with Derek and become his murder beta.  Why should Scott think that she would be grateful this time?
    • Erica struck his best friend with a part from Stiles’s own jeep and left him in a dumpster.   Why should Scott take care of her now?  (Fandom always complains that Scott doesn’t notice what happens to Stiles – when it suits their purposes.)
    • Erica with her fellow murder beta Isaac tried to beat the shit out of Scott when all he was doing was trying to talk Boyd out of getting the Bite, all on Derek’s orders.
    • Erica kidnapped his best friend on Derek’s request to interrogate him, thus putting Stiles in danger from the kanima, who trapped them in the pool.
    • Erica with her fellow murder beta Isaac, hunted Lydia down in the school.
    • Erica and her entire pack tried to murder Lydia in Scott’s house.  
    • Erica tried to drive a wedge between Allison and Scott repeatedly for the thrill of it.

    When you put all this on the table, why is less-than-a-minute hesitation a sign of absolute selfishness?   Scott’s not a deputy or a paramedic or even a high-school junior.  He knows there are cameras in the library; the production flashed to them often enough.   How many sophomores would risk expulsion or arrest to take a seizure victim … somewhere?  If the Argents were being vindictive, they could have used this to both drive a wedge between Allison and Scott (”see, they will always pack together”) or even cause legal issues for Scott – who was technically in violation of a restraining order.

    As another tongue-in-cheek point, Scott left Allison alone with Matt who is evil – Stiles had just said so, and Stiles is always right, and Stiles was completely serious, as the fandom likes to remind us.  It seems it would be more callous to leave his girlfriend with someone Stiles has deemed the Bad Guy.  (but, seriously, you see how they use Stiles is always right, except when he’s not, to denigrate Scott.)

    But this scene, in the end, shows that Scott is the hero, that he is compassionate, and that he is the protagonist.   He has every reason to let Erica suffer the consequences of her own decisions.  He has every reason to stay with Allison and protect her, his ally and lover, then leave her alone and help someone who most recently tried to murder another friend of his in Scott’s own house. But he didn’t. He hesitated, but in the end he did the compassionate thing, the heroic thing, and helped an enemy.

    Teen Wolf fandom can turn Derek luring Scott out into the woods, breaking into his house, and concealing the existence of an alpha from him into ‘just trying to help,’ but they can’t help but consider Scott hesitating to help his enemy instead of his love interest as a sign of depravity.   They can turn Peter’s vulgar attempted manipulation of Stiles by offering him the Bite as a gesture of sincere respect, but they can’t see that Scott risked a lot in this scene to do something for someone who had proved themselves to be ungrateful.

    If that’s not an empathy gap, what is?

    And then there’s the idea that we can see every terrible scene that Derek, Peter, Stiles, and Theo and explain away the necessity, but there has to be a reason they can’t do this for Scott.  For example, they put every single lie, manipulation, threat, and violation from Peter in Season 1 as a form of highly specific mental illness that leaves Peter the real hero, and every single lie, manipulation, threat, and violation from Peter in Season 4 as a form of necessary judgement for Scott’s failures, but they can condemn Scott for not helping Erica fast enough.


    #teen wolf racism #scott mccall defense squad #restraint#empathy gap #teen wolf fandom problems
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  • The proximity of your skin to my skin

    Is causing me problems,

    Like when did it get so hard to breathe?

    Like is it safe for my heart to be beating this fast?

    Like every muscle in my being wants to reach out and make sure you’re real

    And every cell in my brain is trying to force the muscles not to make any moves.

    I accidentally brushed my hand against your arm

    And it truly was an accident,

    I swear,

    Even if I’ve been inching closer to you this entire night.

    And is it unfair to say there was electricity in that touch?

    Is it inaccurate to say it sent adrenaline straight into my veins?

    Is it obtuse to say love is a drug

    I want more of?

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  • Just a few ideas for ways to incorporate muzzles and similar devices into your whump fic.

    • The muzzle is too tight and/or badly fitted, and digs into the whumpee’s skin, possibly causing wounds or pressure sores if it’s left on too long.
    • The muzzle completely prevents the whumpee from opening their mouth, holding their jaw tightly closed. They can’t speak / make a sound, eat or drink or even breathe through their mouth. If the whumpee has some kind of power like a breath weapon this may actually be necessary.
    • The muzzle is connected to a leash - something like a dog halter. Pulling on the leash can force the whumpee to turn their head in a direction. The whumper frequently jerks roughly on the lead, sometimes even hurting their neck.
    • The whumper(s) don’t bother with an actual muzzle at all, and instead literally just tie or tape the whumpee’s jaws together, cutting off circulation and biting into their skin. This works best if the whumpee has a relatively long muzzle. Wolves, foxes, hyenas, some types of dog e.g german shepherds, most depictions of dragons, or predatory dinosaurs? Yes. Some wild felids? Maybe. Domestic cats and shorter-face dog breeds? Not really. Humans? Definitely not. Note that if the whumpee has fur, tape will be very painful to remove.
    • The muzzle completely covers the whumpee’s face, including their eyes, like this cat grooming muzzle (image from Amazon). IRL you’re only supposed to use these for a few minutes, with direct supervision, but let’s be honest your whumper probably doesn’t care that it’s abusive to blindfold an animal or person like that.

    • For variety, you can also have the whumpee be forced into other types of restrictive, claustrophobic mask - maybe to control them, but maybe for their own safety due to plot reasons… or both at once! E.g. a gas mask or other respirator. There’s some pretty cool images on Google of legit functional gas masks for dogs and horses from the World Wars, although I couldn’t find anything for cats. I guess it’s easier to just put a cat in a sealed and filtered cage than it is to make one wear a gas mask for long periods. And imagine the animal whumpee being made to wear one of these things by the caretaker because they’re in a situation like a wildfire or chemical attack where it’s necessary, but the whumpee doesn’t understand and thinks they’re being muzzled as a punishment!
    • Throwing up in a muzzle. Especially one that doesn’t “drain” well.
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  • Police scare me.  They remind me of the scary “Resource” staff that used to restrain me at my special ed high school.

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  • The whumper sighed, sitting across their former captive; now that the tables turned, finding themselves bound to a chair they way they had forced the whumpee into back then. What fond memories.

    They kept their head held high, the glint in their eyes giving away the sheer delight of seeing Whumpee. The fear, the sweat on their brow and shifting eyes. 

    “Are you not satisfied?” They taunted, smiling through their teeth, “how long has it been… ten- no, twelve years?”

    A grimace spread across the whumpee’s face.

    “I’m glad you still remember me-”

    “How.” Whumpee finally breathed, “H- how could I ever forget you? The tor- torture y- you- put me through…” Tears welled up in their eyes as they failed to hold back those painful memories. “You monster. I hope you rot in hell.”

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