#if you try to do that shit yourself you can do irreparable damage

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i’m so frustrated with people’s lack of common sense about wildlife. if you’re interacting with wildlife, you’re not having your disney princess moment. you’re not forming a magical bond. that’s a wild animal who is potentially terrified; maybe it’s curious if it’s young enough, but that just means you should minimise interactions as much as possible to make sure that animal lives a normal life. if your kid comes in holding a wild animal, don’t pick up your fucking phone to videotape it. bring the animal back outside and educate your kid to leave animals alone. you know what happens when you take in wildlife as a “pet”? either you keep it and do damage because even though it’s “tame” it’s a wild animal who is in no way meant to live in that setting unless it’s being kept by a trained and licensed rehabber who knows the housing and feeding requirements (and even then i’ve seen some who are keeping animals irresponsibility), or it ends up at a wildlife rehab when you inevitably harm it enough that you don’t know what to do, or when no vets see you, or when the animal becomes too aggressive for you to handle. and then we either figure out how to rehabilitate an animal whose temperament and/or body you have massively damaged or we euthanise it because the damage is too extensive. start treating wildlife like wild animals rather than a dog or cat. they’re not pets, they’re not domesticated, leave them alone and let them live happy lives as they’re supposed to.

#saw a video of someone’s kid bringing in a baby raccoon and holding it to her chest. what the FUCK are you thinking #‘it’s mine now it’s my pet’ and everyone in the comments is going ‘you heard her that’s her pet now’. fuck all the way off #not only does that harm the animal but that makes it very possible for animals to spread diseases to you or your actual pets #not to mention parasites and fleas #there was one the other day of someone getting a rabbit out of a skate park which is good thanks for helping it. but then the person spent #another 5 or 10 minutes interacting with it and petting it. that’s not a pet store bunny that’s a wild animal and it’s absolutely terrified #im not saying learn body language and temperament and shit for a bunch of different animals im saying have some common sense and leave #wildlife alone. look but don’t touch. if an animal looks to be in distress then contact a local wildlife rehab or any rehab at all and ask #for advice. if there’s a rehab near you then see if you can bring the animal in #if you try to do that shit yourself you can do irreparable damage #it’s all fun and games and ‘oh im keeping it as a pet’ until the animal is malformed and has broken bones and infected wounds or is so #aggressive that it’s taking chunks out of people with no warning #‘this wild animal andomly attacked someone for no reason!’ you see how it’s overweight? people have probably been feeding it and when that #person didn’t have food it jumped on them #someone’s gonna do this shit with a ‘sick bird they plan to nurse back to health’ and get fucking bird flu #im just tired i haven’t been working with wildlife for a year and am going to study wildlife and work with them for the rest of my life for #this shit to keep happening. i know it will but im just tired of seeing it over and over again #my post #y’all can rb if you want im just pissed and on my soapbox

[cutielando]

never again ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

You loved Rafe.

You really did.

He was the first person you had ever loved, the first man to make you feel good about yourself, to make you step out of your comfort zone and be more adventurous. The first man to show you what real love felt like.

But that person was gone.

The Rafe that you were in a relationship with wasn't the Rafe you had fallen in love with anymore. You often found yourself looking at your boyfriend and not even recognizing the person staring back at you.

He had changed, he let the drugs do so much irreparable damage to his soul that he didn't know who he was anymore. 

That was the main reason why you had decided to end your relationship. You had to do it for the sake of your well-being, not trusting your safety when you were around Rafe like you used to, once upon a time.

The perfect moment for the talk came harder than you thought it would, but you had got lucky when you caught him sober one night, scrolling away on his phone.

You firstly cleared your throat, hoping to get his attention.

When that didn't happen, him having not moved an inch, you scooted closer to him on the bed, laying your hand on his arm.

"Rafe"

He finally looked up, shutting his phone and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

"What's up?"

"We need to talk"

You could feel his muscles tense slightly under your touch, the words that came out of your mouth never leading to a pleasant conversation.

"About what?" he didn't want you to see that he was shitting his pants on the inside, trying to keep his cool and act nonchalant.

"Us" you smiled sadly, taking your hand off of his arm.

"What about us? We're fine"

"No, we're not fine, Rafe. We haven't been fine for months on end now! I can't keep watching you destroy yourself because of your addiction, baby. I can't keep doing this anymore. You're not yourself anymore, you haven't been yourself for a very long time and I can't bear watching you like this. I don't want to do this anymore. I think we need some time apart" you had turned away from him, facing forward and hugging your knees to your chest.

You heard his breathing getting quicker, something that always happened when he was panicking.

"Baby, I will get better, I promise. It's just a really tough time for me right now and this is how I cope with the stress. But I can get off that shit anytime. Please, don't leave me, I'll be better" he was hugging you from behind now, tears soaking the back of your shirt.

You bit your lip tightly, trying to suppress the sob that was threatening to come out of your lips. Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks, but you didn't even bother to wipe them away. There was no point.

"I wish I could believe you, Rafe. I really wish I could, but I can't. We've had this conversation too many times with empty promises and I can't take any more of those. I'm sorry, but this is for the best. I'm willing to try again if you end up getting clean and you get your life together, but until then, goodbye" you turned around and took his face in your hands, pecking his lips one more time before you got up and left Tannyhill, your tears blurring your vision.

The moment you got to your car and closed the doors, pained sobs escaped your lips, your whole body rocking with them. You knew you had made the right choice, at least for the time being, but that didn't mean it didn't absolutely break your heart.

Rafe was sitting in the same spot, his mind trying to process everything that had just happened. He knew the moment was long overdue, he now realized just how much he had changed ever since he started heavily doing drugs again, he knew how much he neglected you and the shit you had had to put up with because of him.

He realized he hadn't been fair to you, but damn did it hurt him like nothing else in the world. Knowing he had let you slip through his fingers, the only person he had ever loved and the only one who had ever loved him for who he was. Gone, just like that.

Sniffling and wiping his tears away, he picked up his phone, making some calls determined to get better and win you back because he couldn't live without you.

Not anymore.

Five months had passed since the night you and Rafe broke up. You had been keeping busy, burying yourself in schoolwork so you could have something to think about that wouldn't be related to Rafe.

You had held onto hope that he had got the help he needed, wanting him to realize that there was so much to life besides drugs. 

He had sent you messages, telling you how he was doing, what he was up to, but you chose to ignore them all. You didn't want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed if you found out he had been lying, so you just simply hadn't replied.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe had been clean ever since the night you broke up with him. He had went to a rehab center the morning after, determined to get and stay clean for the rest of his life so he could prove to you that he loved you and he was serious about your relationship.

When he got back from the center and settled in back home, he decided to drive over to your house, in hopes that he could get you back into his life.

It was evening when he appeared in front of your door. It was very warm outside, the sun having just set.

He knocked on your door, hoping that you would be the one to answer. And his prayers had been answered because you appeared in the doorway, shorts and one of his T-shirt on your body, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Rafe?" you asked, not believing he was really at your door.

"Hi, baby" he smiled, giving you the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.

"Um, thanks. They're beautiful" you said as you smelled the flowers, smiling because he had remembered your favorite flowers.

"Just like you" he said, making you blush. "Can we talk?"

You looked at him, taking in his features. He looked healthy, which warmed your heart.

Nodding, you set off towards the kitchen, finding a vase for the flowers before joining him in the living room.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I messed up, Y/N, I know that. My behavior for the past few months has been inexcusable, I realize that. I lost sight of myself and I became a horrible person, someone who didn't even deserve the bat of an eye from someone like you. I know I've treated you badly, I know how much I hurt you and how much I neglected our relationship. I'm sorry for everything, baby. I've been clean for the past 5 months and it's going to remain like that. I'm never touching another drug again. I want us to work, baby, I want us to be together again. I promise to love you and be the man you deserve to have by your side. What do you say?"

His eyes for so hopeful, so full of hope and love. You couldn't deny that you had missed him terribly, the break up hurting you almost as much as it had hurt him. But you loved him, and you knew that was never going to change.

"Okay, but if I catch you with drugs one more time, it's over for good. Never again, okay?"

He nodded frantically, falling into your arms and hugging you tightly.

"Thank you, I love you so much" he whispered.

"I love you too"

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[thecuriousquest]

yandere alphabet for dabi?

Yandere Alphabet: Dabi

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, dark shit, non con, kidnapping, dacryphilia, nudity, controlling behavior, dominant, sadistic behavior, possessive behavior, degradation, sexual needs mentioned, death mentioned, branding kink, spanking punishment

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Dabi shows his love by making fun of you. You are his and always will be, so he reserves the right to tease you relentlessly. There are his softer moments where he’ll sneak up behind you and wrap you up in a hug, but this doesn’t exactly last long because he’s more than likely going to whisper something very dirty in your ear.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Dabi is literally a villain who has killed before and has no problem with doing it again. Whereas he can be impulsive and just off a bitch, he does like to play the long game and make his predators piss themselves. This might look like hunting them down after days of psychologically tormenting them.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Oh, you betchya! He is 100% going to make you cry within the first hour, and not just from scaring you. “What’s the matter? Already crying and I haven’t even hit you yet.” He taunts you because he loves provoking you. He wants you to get riled up so that he has a reason to be violent with you, not that he actually needs one.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I’m sorry to say this, but I honestly believe Dabi would rape you. He just seems like a yandere who doesn’t give two shits about if you want it or not. He has you, so he’ll have all of you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

When the two of you are in bed together, he’ll hold you in his arms and whisper about how pretty you are. “I picked a good one.” These are the nicest things he’ll ever say to you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

I think he likes to see you be feisty. It shows him that you haven’t been broken yet. He doesn’t want a lifeless doll. He wants someone he can interact with. He views you fighting him as a plus because it just means that he can fight back and show off how powerful he is.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It’s not like he’d leave the door open on purpose. It’s more like he’s so confident in his ability to track you down that he’ll give you a fifteen minute head start. He likes catching you in a state of panic. He likes snatching you by your waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He, especially, likes beating your ass when you get home for trying to escape.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being chained up and starved. Dabi uses this method for more extreme cases if you’re not cooperating. Not having any food in you for a few days to a week makes you docile. Your head will kind of just lull from side to side, and it takes you a while to start acting like yourself again. Seeing you so weak makes him laugh because he finds it adorable. For you, it’s a fucking nightmare.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dabi just wants something to belong to him. As long as you’re with him (he doesn’t really care if you’re happy), he’s happy. It’ll be better if you make things easier for him, but all in all, he just wants you to be with him.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Dabi gets hella jealous. You’re his and only his. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder, he’s cussing them out and doing irreparable damage. You’ll be lucky if brain matter doesn’t coat the walls. He’ll turn it around on you once he’s done with the guy you were talking to, though. “Why are you fucking talking to him like that?” He’s definitely kicking your ass for that stupid mistake you made.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He always has an arm hung around your shoulders, giving others the hint that you’re taken. It’s a plus that he gets to hold you close as well. He’ll also make out with you in public too. He’s not ashamed as he gropes your ass any time, any where.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

You two never started dating. You guys hooked up, had a one night stand. At least, it was supposed to be. The sex was too good for Dabi to just let you go, so he kidnapped you, and now you’re in this twisted relationship with him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

When he decides to not be so rough with you, he can be kind of romantic. He shows his softer side to you during these times. He won’t threaten you, he won’t make almost every comment out of his mouth sexual. Surprise, surprise, the man actually has a filter. He can’t act this way around others, however. He still has a villainous reputation to maintain.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

With a flaming blue hand. He’s not afraid to mark up your body. It’s one of his favorite pass times. Putting you over his knee, branding your ass with his palm, it’s exhilarating to him. When you start uttering pleas for forgiveness or declarations of apologies, he still keeps beating the hell out of you. He pushes you well past your limits, but it’s only for “his pleasure and your best interest”.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

All of them. Say goodbye to pissing with the bathroom door shut. You don’t even have bodily autonomy anymore.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He’s not patient like you think. If you start yelling at him, he’ll wait for you to finish throwing your tantrum. “Are you done? You finally done shrieking in my ear? Alright, let me tell you what’s gonna happen now.” He’ll grab you by the throat and slam you down on the table. “You’re gonna go to the room, you’re gonna get naked, and you’re gonna make this little incident up to me. Got it? Good.” He’ll send you off with a light slap to your face.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Dabi is possessive. Even though he likes to rough you up in and out of the bedroom, you’re still his girl. He has a special bond with you, one that’s not easy to break. He needs to keep you with him, and he can keep you safe from others while he does that. He needs to have you in every way possible. Despite all of this, if you ended up dying, I think he would be able to move on, but that’s only if you die. If you manage to successfully escape, he will exhaust every available resource in order to hunt you down, and he will find you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He doesn’t feel guilty about abducting you. If you really fuck up with him, if you really can’t find it in yourself to just make things easy for Dabi, then he will contemplate killing you. The villain can only put up with so much. If he actually does kill you, then that’s what he’ll feel guilty about because he formed a bond with you that he ended up having to cut ties with in such a horrible way.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? Well, his childhood turned him into a villain. I’d say his sadistic and yandere tendencies stem from being a villain but are rooted in his childhood.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He relishes in your pain. It completely turns him on. Whether your sobs are from pain, torment, or fear, it doesn’t matter to him. You could say he has a crying kink.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

His cruelty is unlike the classic yandere. The man has frustrations and limited outlets, so you end up as his punching bag or cock sleeve most of the time. It’s not like he can just go take a karate class during his free time.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Use his physical weakness against him. Keep asking if that’s “all he’s got”. Dabi isn’t immune to his own fire. It literally causes him damage that takes a long while to recover from. If you can find a way to withstand his quirk or have him burn something for you, then you might just find a way to escape.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes, 100% would hurt you mentally and physically. He’d laugh at you too.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He doesn’t worship you. In fact, it would delight him if YOU worshipped him. It would give him a major ego boost. He doesn’t feel the need to win you over. It’s either comply or get hurt.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He doesn’t leave you hanging for long after that “one night stand”. It only takes a few days to a week maybe before he snatches you up and takes you to your forever nightmare home.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If you do break, he’ll either use you as a flesh light or kill you. He doesn’t have time to put up with this kind of mind set. It’s pathetic to him. He can’t help thinking this. He knows he did it to you, but he thought you were so much stronger than this.

#my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #dabi #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi my hero academia #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere touya #dabi is touya #touya todoroki

[gay-dorito-dust]

Freddy freemanx reader friends to lovers with a cute confession

Probably not the cutest of confessions but still I hope it’s worth the read at the very least. 🦦

It was a relaxing evening in Philadelphia and you made sure to make the most of it by hanging out in the shared room of your friend Freddy and his brother Billy.

‘Have you heard about that theory that the reason they stopped fighting was because their mothers shared the same name…’ you dropped your phone onto Freddy’s bed, ‘how shitty would that be if this turns out to be true? That’s like if you and Billy were to stop fighting because you’ve remembered that you’re both orphans.’ You looked over at him to see that the boy’s face was a spitting image of the disbelief that must’ve been painted across your face. ‘Bull-fucking-shit, who’d ever upvote that theory?’ Freddy said as he leaned over your shoulder to pick up your phone to skim through the Reddit page called ‘R/Heroic Hot Takes.’ Or HHT for short.

‘Dunno.’ You shrugged. ‘I would take it with a grain of salt though because the same dude has said stupid shit like this before by claiming that Aquaman fucks fish and that Wonder Woman was sleeping with the likes of both Superman and Batman simultaneously behind the others back.’ You watched as Freddy’s eyes scanned the screen of posts, with each one that he read the more discouraged he became in delving further as he soon put your phone back down onto the bed and sat back in his place against the headboard, running his hands down his face; groaning. ‘If those posts are worth an ounce of their salt, then I’d rather die from a sodium overdose.’

You chuckled at your friends distress and reached a hand to firmly pat his knee, all the while offering him a faux look of sympathy. ‘Aww don’t do that!’ You began as Freddy dropped his hands to his lap as he casted his eyes your way, brows raised to his hairline, as he waited with a unfamiliar look upon his face that immediately vanished with your next words, ‘who would I bother after you die? Billy? I love him but I wouldn’t dare to even try and make a joke with him. Besides, I’d rather annoy my best mate for the rest of my life then not at all.’ It didn’t take you long for realise that Freddy was expecting you to say something else from the slump in his shoulders and the humourlessly laugh that left his lips. Naturally it made you worry.

The smile slipped off your face, ‘what’s wrong Freddy?’

‘Nothing.’ He said shorty, mentally punching himself for letting his fantasies mingle with his reality. You weren’t going to say those words he’s dreamt you saying to him anytime soon and he’d just be better off in accepting the fact that he’ll be nothing other then mate to you. Always the bridesmaid but never the bride or however that quote goes. You furrowed your brows in concern as you shuffled yourself so that you were sat next to him against the headboard, your hand moving from his knee to hold his hand, intertwining your fingers and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

‘C’mon Freddy,’ you uttered softly, ‘you can tell me anything. I’m your friend.’

‘That’s the problem.’ Freddy muttered under his breath, thinking you didn’t hear but you very much did unfortunately. You tore your hand from his, the loss of your warmth jolted you friend into looking over at you with a look of concern himself. ‘What do you mean by that,’ you asked, ‘what do you mean by ‘that’s the problem?’ Do you not want to be my friend anymore? Have you grown bored of me?’ Seeing how you were slowly pulling yourself away from him out of fear, Freddy knew he had to think quickly before irreparable damage was done to your friendship.

‘That’s not what I meant! That was taken completely out of context! He cried as he grasped your hand, dragging you back next to him as you looked at him wearily. ‘Then enlighten me Freddy, what did you mean when you said that since it was ‘taken out of context.’ You used quotation marks for the last part, still feeling a little hurt at the thought that Freddy didn’t want you in his life anymore despite everything you’ve been through together. It didn’t feel like something your Freddy would say, or ever say but being faced with the reality that those words did in fact leave his lips; you were uncertain of where to go should this go where you assumed it was going.

‘What I meant by that was,’ Freddy took a deep breath to settle his nerves, ‘was that I don’t want us to be friends anymore,’ he then mustered the courage to look into your heartbroken eyes, which made the tightness in his throat even worse to swallow, ‘I want us to be so much more then that. I want us to be ya know…together romantically.’ Freddy’s voice cracked towards the end, causing him to mentally cringe but once he heard the sound of your laughter, the embarrassment slipped away, replacing it with a sense of hope. A feeling of which that only grew when you held his face in your hands, thumbs brushing across his cheeks as his reached to hold you there.

‘Wanna elaborate on that sweetheart?’ You asked, voice barely above a whisper, a smitten smile spread across your lips, bringing forth a warmth to Freddy chest as a goofy smile alights his face. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start but then again even if I could find a solid starting point, it wouldn’t come close to fully conveying how happy you’ve made this sad little boy… so very happy.’ He stated, stopping briefly to admire your features that were beaming with happiness so brightly that he wouldn’t mind it being the last thing he saw before loosing sight permanently. ‘You’ve stood by me when I thought myself hopeless, broken and a burden to everyone. Yet you,’ he stops again to chuckle, bringing his tongue o it to wet his suddenly dry lips.

‘You didn’t see any of that, you didn’t see me as a someone who was completely incapable of doing anything on his own. You saw me, Freddy freeman, as me and that would’ve been enough to have me hook, line and sinker but no, you continued to prove that I was far removed from the broken toy I believed myself to be and instead someone who had all the power in his finger tips to do anything he sets his mind to…but the one thing I ever wanted…was you.’ Freddy gushed your reaction, ‘and I do have you, just not in the way I’d like but I’d respect your wishes if that’s not what you want-‘ Freddy was about to finish his speech but was cut off when you drug him by his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips; effectively shutting him up.

The kiss was hardly perfect but it’s not like either of you minded, all that mattered to you at that point was that both you and Freddy finally got what you both had been pinning for after suffering so long in fear of rejection and uncertainty. It was the most perfectly imperfect kiss you’ll ever had but that’s what gave it the most character as you both laid upon his bed, lost within one another as a few more sweet but short kisses were shared before pulling away to press your for heads against one another; goofy smiles spread across your lips as the cosy, warm feeling had yet to exit your bodies.

#dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fic #dc fanfic #Shazam imagines #Shazam imagine #Shazam x reader #Shazam x you #Shazam fic #Shazam fanfic #freddy freeman imagines #freddy freeman imagine #freddy freeman x reader #freddy freeman x you #freddy freeman fic #freddy freeman fanfic

[fictionkinfessions]

it's some special kind of hell being stuck in a system with my son. I love him so much but I don't think he'll ever believe me after everything I put him through. the silence between us and the way he avoids me kills me but I understand. I do. I fucking traumatized the shit out of him, I did irreparable damage. saying that I hate myself for it doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. I wish I could go back and change it all, spare those kids, be the father Michael deserved. but I know I can't. I think the most painful thing of all is seeing how much he hates himself because he sees me in him, hates himself for being his father's son... not that I have any right to even call myself his father. I can never make things right but I keep trying my best to be a decent man and I hope beyond hope that if nothing else maybe some day I can at least help him heal a little. Michael you deserved so much better. I love you and I'm more than sorry for everything. I know it doesn't mean much but I hope it means something, anything. I'd say it until my lungs give out if it could make anything better. I hope one day you stop blaming yourself for the things I did. they were never your fault, not even a little. the responsibility's mine, I'm the one who did those things. it's not your fault. none of it.

-Afton

j

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #williamaftonkin #fnafkin #prevabuse #sysneg #? p #mod party cat

[frecklenog]

fuck it, prompt list based off fo4 companion reactions to the player getting injured, high radiation levels, and the player having rad sickness. edited slightly so it's more applicable to other universes and genres, too (from here)

injury:

"should your arm be crooked like that?"

"hope that wasn't your shooting hand."

"you wanna sit down or something?"

"that head wound looks painful."

"if you apply pressure, it might stop the bleeding."

"sheesh. bet your head's ringing."

"nice limp you've got there."

"that leg's going to slow us down."

"hey, your arm oka-? . . . shit."

"you ain't winning any brawls with your arm like that."

"not gonna last if you keep using your head as a catcher's mitt."

"you okay? you seeing lights?"

"you still with me?"

"you're gonna wanna take care of that, quick."

"don't think a leg's supposed to bend that way."

"take it slow. don't put too much weight on that leg."

"uh, did it hit an artery?"

"shit. you okay in there?"

"woah. i thought i lost you there."

"damned head shots."

"oh-! that's gotta hurt."

"oh! oh, that doesn't look good!"

"don't try to run. just look after that leg."

"you alright?"

"looked like you caught the brunt of that with your face."

"alright, focus. stay with me now."

"you're gonna be fine. but you're gonna wanna take a stim. now."

"don't worry, it's still attached. . . . well, mostly."

"on the upside, that's gonna leave on hell of a scar."

"i didn't think arms bent that way."

"easy now, [name]. that leg's real beat up."

"how are you still standing?"

"[name], you with me?"

"come on, focus. couple stims and you'll be right as rain."

"don't worry, your arm's still attached! i think."

"your leg okay? 'cause it's looked better."

"hang in there. i'm on it."

"ouch. that's a nasty head wound you got there."

"can you even see straight?"

"patch yourself up! your arm looks like swiss cheese."

"keep fighting, we'll make it out of this!"

"beaned your bean pretty good, there."

"oh, [name], that looks like it hurt!"

"[name], your leg! i'm not sure it's supposed to bend that direction."

"stiff upper lip -- you'll pull through!"

"clipped your noggin good, [name]. try not to fall unconscious!"

"oh no, [name], your arm!"

"blast it all. they winged you."

"your leg is damaged. we should repair it at once."

"you should not move too fast with your leg. it could aggravate your injury."

"oh no -- can you see? your head looks very bad."

"if untreated, you can bleed out very quickly from a head wound."

"keep your arm still. otherwise, your injury could get worse."

"damn. is it broken?"

"can you still shoot?"

"don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks."

"don't worry. i'll stick with you."

"shit, right in the head."

"fight through it, [name]."

"ouch. that had to hurt. hang in there."

"your arm is broken. kick and bite instead!"

"you don't need your head to smash shit."

sickness:

"you look pretty sick to your stomach."

"we're not going to last long out here."

"watch your step over here. might end up looking like me."

"great. i didn't need to have more children."

"gonna have a lot more limbs and a lot less hair if we stick around here too much longer."

"ugh. you feel that too?"

"we're not gonna stay alive much longer if we don't get a move on."

"can we get outta here? this place makes me feel like crap."

"the body can repair tissue damage, but still, too much radiation too quickly can prove fatal."

"caution is recommended."

"this stuff should be avoided at all costs. it could damage you irreparably."

"oh, great. like we need this."

"you're looking pretty sick. might wanna get some meds in you."

"get any sicker and i'll be hauling you back in a bodybag."

"you feeling alright? 'cause you look awful."

"starting to look a little . . . dead."

"deathly sick. that's a good look."

"maybe you should see the doc."

"if you don't have any on you, some meds would be a sound investment about now."

"you're looking a little grey. what do you say we get you to a doctor?"

"[name], you look like death. let's get you to a doctor."

"we need to get you some meds, fast."

"don't know if you're going for that 'carcass' look, but you're definitely getting there."

"let's get you to a doc."

"damn. you look like shit."

"damn, you don't look so good."

"maybe we should head back and get you cleaned up."

"little worse for wear, there."

"have you considered seeking professional medical assistance?"

"[name], you don't look so good."

"you don't look so good, man. you better find a doctor. soon."

"[name], you look terrible."

"is that . . . ? is your hair falling out? that's not good."

"you look very sick. very weak."

"you need to find a doctor."

"any more of this, you might end up dead."

"if you're too weak to go on, i'm not carrying you."

#shut up emrys #ref #insp #uhhhhhhhhhhhh #prompt list #dialogue prompt #whump #angst #long post #ask to tag #idk. here's this

[thedisablednaturalist]

so sorry ppl that cant read are sending you messages about those posts but i get it completely. rheumatologists and osteos and NP's want to hear more abt my decade old severe anxiety and depression and adhd and ~more~ diagnoses than chronic debilitating pain and just slap vitamin D pills on it and throw up their hands because "test results are weird idk what to tell u even tho i said it was this two weeks ago". abled friends and coworkers can have conversations about their mental health struggles but its looked at self pityingly if i bring up how my life is irreparably damaged by my physical disability because disabled people have to be strong and resilient to earn a place in their field and if you cant cut it just get on those snazzy disability benefits and let it get worse. i think a lot of abled ND people just cant accept that they do not experience the worst of life's struggles and that solidarity doesnt make us the same

I try to be understanding and answer peoples questions politely when I have the spoons and if they are genuinely confused bc I used to be ignorant as well about a lot of aspects of physical disability but it gets so tiring. Nowadays there are a ton of resources from physically disabled people talking about their experiences its actually quite easy to educate yourself on our struggles. Like sorry I get a little frustrated and rude when I'm constantly bombarded by ableism and rude ass people.

Also yeah that's exactly what I've been trying to say. Doctors can usually relate to people having mental health struggles and even some aspects of neurodivergencey. But they cannot understand someone looking completely fine and not being able to detect anything but complaining of horrible pain and constant tiredness outside of the lense of mental health. And if your mental health is managed or only suffering because you are in constant pain, they say you're faking, or OBVIOUSLY you just need to lose weight, or drink more water, or exercise more than any able bodied person does. People take one look at me and think the solution is obvious and I'm just too stupid or lazy to figure it out.

And me saying this isn't saying that mental illness is super easy to deal with. Its fucking awful as well and many doctors say this shit to neurodivergents as well. And this is especially true for poc and people with psychosis or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.

I went to my first therapist in my sophomore year of highschool and got medicated that same year. I started investigating my health issues in college freshman year and have JUST gotten actual results from treatment. SIX fucking years later. SIX fucking years of CONSTANT PAIN. And I have great insurance and a great dad who just wants me to feel better (my mom is a different story). My parents are sort of upper middle class and I live in a very privileged area. Of course that means I can't afford to move out even with an ok salary, but at least there are plenty of doctors around to choose from and plenty of appointments available. I can't imagine how long it takes someone without those advantages. And even still I had to fight to be listened to, I had to listen to so much bs from doctors and had to go from doctor to doctor begging for someone to listen.

Like they really don't get how unbelievably hard it is to get care for physical disabilities, visible and invisible. If you're visibly disabled you get treated like a child and a monster and you're isolated from society. If you're invisibly disabled you get laughed at by doctors and ignored. If it's hard for you guys imagine that difficulty increased by 100%.

I try to be really visible when I'm working in a position I know has my back. I really try to educate young people and children on what my disability looks like and I hope disabled kids and kids who eventually become disabled can see me and know that their lives are valuable and they are valuable. And it is possible to find joy in your life and reasons to keep living. And employers shouldn't be able to throw away our resumes and pay us less just cause we may need a little extra help. I know what everyone thinks when they see me in my wheelchair and using my walking sticks and when I tell them I need to take a break as I'm running out of spoons. I know their first thought is what the hell am I doing here if I'm in so much pain? When people see me by myself in my wheelchair they think I must have gotten lost and separated from my abled handler. I love my job, I love what I do, and I want to be able to keep doing it. But I can't work as long as an abled person, I can't do it without accommodations. Hell abled people shouldn't be working as long as they do either. I wish to live a life where I'm free to do the work I love without killing myself and still be able to live a comfortable life. Every disabled person, working or not, deserves to live a comfortable life.

#chronic disability #chronic pain #physical disability #cripplepunk #spoonie #disability #working while disabled #sorry this is all kinda jumbled and longn #as you all know i write long posts #wrenfea.ask

[okthatsgreat]

🌼💎??

WAHOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! im gonna use naomi for this one just because i reckon she's got some interesting answers ..... >:)

ALSO I WILL BE DISCUSSING SUICIDE HERE BRIEFLY BC ITS NAOMI AND ITS GOTTA COME UP IN A CONVO ABOUT DEATH SO BE WARNED!!

OC ASK GAME!!

🌼 - how old are they? (or approximate age range)

depends on the context!!!!! during her killing game she is either 16 or 17, as this is season 50 and i imagine team dr has just gone "Yknow What. What ever" about killing off a bunch of minors lmaoooooo. haven't yet decided if i see her as one of the younger contestants or one of the olders ones like ryobe ............. both have tragic implications ............ and also i dont know if im being swayed towards making her older just because shes the tallest girl there LMAO

in the askdr50 universe she is either 18-20!! timeline is sort of foggy, but its been a few years since her game has ended and they are currently on season 53 :] i imagine team dr has to be given enough time for pre-production/a bit to actually run the game/post-production media hell, but alsooooooo they are very quick to keep producing more seasons. so the amount of time between naomis killing game and her currently fluctuates hgdfksg

💎 - do you ever see yourself killing off the oc?

teehee teehee soooo first things first naomi is a danganronpa character which means the threat of death is literally always around the corner even AFTER her fucking game LMFAO. but what is super important about naomi in the context of her universe is that she is SURVIVOR.... like even before her game. naomi has always been somebody that survives and is terrified of dying. and quite honestly it is a fate worse than death a lot of the time. like she doesnt GET to die

something i love examining with post-game dr characters in this "everything is a reality show and team dr are corporate dirtbags" au is the idea that they actually for real will not let you die--- i know i touched on it extremely briefly in lgowab with junko. like that girl had tried to take herself out on multiple occasions but danganronpa would frequently nurse her back to health only to go Hey Btw you Can Not die while you are contracted with us and we will Ruin every single living thing you might possibly feel connected to if you try that shit again. you are a commodity first and foremost and we could care less about your mental health we just need you alive so we can keep commercialising you. and also if we have another suicide scandal that could TANK us. so you can not kill yourself ok <3 for us <3

ive got zero doubt in my mind they did that same shit with naomi as well lol. this is a girl whose entire life has been rooted in survival and frankly not much else, who now DOES NOT GET to die and has to live on with the fact that her survival has caused her and many others irreparable pain and damage. death is a luxury she WILL NOT be afforded. awesome sauce!

THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU <33

#ask game #ask lee #stims-4-breakfast #TEEHEE <3 #oc: naomi

[fox-bright]

how much pennyroyal essential oil do you think a 19 year old would need to consume to die? asking uh.... hypothetically

Well, the thing about herbal 'remedies' is that dosage is very inconsistent, so I can't give you a precise dosage. Instead, let's talk about how that death would progress. So you get your hands on some pennyroyal essential oil, and you take down a mouthful. It doesn't taste good but it's not the worst thing you've ever tasted; it'll burn your throat and mouth on the way down and you might gag, but that's the worst that taking it will do in that instant. Depending on dosage, you might have half an hour or even a couple of hours where you feel fairly normal. A little bit of heartburn maybe. A little bit of queasiness. For a little while you might think that all of the warnings are exaggerated. But soon enough, the cramps will start. Like period cramps from hell. Like the worst food poisoning you can imagine. Your belly muscles will undulate like snakes. You'll be wracked by full-torso cramps and muscle contractions. You'll vomit, with enough force that it comes out your nose, that your eyes burn as it tries to force its way out your eye sockets as your nasal passages are overwhelmed. In all likelihood you'll have diarrhea before you can get your trousers down, as your body basically forces everything out of you at once. This is your body trying desperately to purge the poison. To save you. It will fail. The cramps will not stop until you die. But they're not the worst thing you'll experience. They'll be punctuated by agonizing seizures. As your liver and kidneys fail side by side, your blood will be flooded with urea--the waste that you'd usually urinate out--and your veins will burn. The urea isn't the only thing that doesn't stay where it ought; internal bleeding kicks off as your organs are irreparably damaged, and your torso will fill with blood. You'll bloat painfully. You'll fart uncontrollably, though between all the vomiting and the seizures and the cramping and now, the mental aspect--confusion, dizziness and terror being widely reported--you might not notice a bit of wind. You may bleed in your brain, causing incredible headaches. The headaches would be accompanied by further mental troubles, blackouts, hallucinations, terrifying vertigo. You'll be spitting blood. You will be pissing and shitting blood. You might bleed from your eyeballs. You might bleed right through your skin. And it will hurt so much the entire time. I can not emphasize that sufficiently, here. Your throat and nasal passages will be deeply acid-burned from vomiting bile and blood. All this time, the cramps don't stop. They do not stop until your heart stops. That might be quick--within twelve hours, though every one of them will feel like a month--or it might take you a bit more than a weekend. So your loved ones get as much as four days to rage, knowing that there's nothing the doctors can do; you get four days to regret the choice, with whatever of you is able to concentrate on regret instead of just weeping in pain. The doctors will spend four days giving you what's called "supportive care;" that is, they try to make you comfortable as best they can, because there is nothing else that they can do. They just have to watch you shit yourself to death. There is no beauty in dying like this, no sticking it to the ones who didn't treat you right, no triumph. Just a hundred hours or so of abject agony.

#tw: vomit #tw: death #tw: suicide #tw: poison #tw: blood #tw: diarrhea

[somehowmags]

thank you for telling me what happened!! vil criticizing rook's lack of manners when talking to trey seems very likely. im also sure vil has quite literally told rook to shut up before, so if he wanted rook to shut up, he'd quite definitely have already made him do so. and yea, i also don't agree with the absolutely soul sucking standards of the industry vil is in because the damage it can do is irreparable but regardless of how any of us feels about it, vil is very much still adamant on remaining in it. so he abides by its standards. i would never comment on anything, appearance wise, that can't be fixed in a few minutes, regardless of our bond. that is where rook and i differ, but only because i don't have a friend who benefits from the type of criticism rook gives and my friends don't require it from me. i tell my close friends things about me i could not say the same for with an acquaintance, because i can rely on the formers acceptance and understanding. rook is the same in that there are more things he's likely to talk about in close relationships because there is the level of trust that permits it; in which case, is vil's trust in rook's reliable judgement.

rook, if you overlook his morbid interest in breaking the boundaries of beast men, almost always keeps a cordial persona in front of others. yes, it could also just be the byproduct of his purposeful attempt for others to think he is less dangerous than he really is. but i really don't think the man who finds beauty in everything would be arsed to make a senseless comment. the most senseless thing he's done (saving vil) was done precisely because he thought the consequences over (putting the dorm in more chaos, losing his role as VH) and was very much ready to face them in return for his goal. he would never tell you about anything you also cannot fix in under a few minutes-- he knows it's not his place to comment on it, and he knows the consequences of it. observant and mindful is his middle name, so he can most likely tell that you're not comfortable about something personal. he'd likely change the topic, provide some words of advice you could easily ponder on or dismiss, or praise you. he'd very likely PRAISE YOU!!! yes, oddly personally at that, but he genuinely finds no issue in most things. it's rather ironic to think rook could respect your boundaries about yourself when he stalks others and inappropriately addresses beastmen and fae, but as hypocritical as his nature is, he's not fat phobic. he's never been one for the most conventional of views. vil supports you in that he helps you reach your goals; rook also aspires to do that, but rook can appreciate the beauty before him in present time more thanks vil can or does. (not to say that vil doesn't at all) so he definitely would have a positive view of you as you are, and the you you could be.

and yea, rook DID, in fact, shit on vil when they legit first met. but again, it's likely due to the part of him that is very intentional. vil did not turn him away, and infact came to trust him deeply, so obviously his judgement about vil's aversion towards him was right. maybe he was just lucky vil didn't beat him over the head with a textbook, but it's been 2 to 2.5 years since then. he's likely grown and developed a degree of manners thanks to vil, especially now that he's a face of pomefiore. sure, he could learn to be more respectful when providing the criticism he does with vil despite their close bond, but if vil really did think he was rude, he would just tell him. rook would adapt and take a different approach in telling him. we all have had similar thoughts about people close to us, but as we had time to process it, we come to realize what they were trying to impart on us potentially negates whatever tone or action they take-- which also leads our appreciation of the sentiment to overpower any feeling of irritation, anger, guilt, hurt, etc etc. rook may not change all his eccentricities, but he's not incapable of change.

i fucking love rook because he's just such a GOOD character?? he so obviously has his perks and flaws, his charms and distastes. that's what makes him so easily to like because he's so obviously not perfect that he feels real, despite his enigmatic nature obscuring any chance we have at fully understanding his character. he's not a good person, but he's not a bad person. he does good things, he does bad things, he does blandly neutral stuff. it may just be bias, but he's one of the most interesting and morally grey characters in twst. i also hate rook the most. i have a mostly love relationship with vil but i HATREEEERSTETE rook. i want to violently hit him with an ikea mug. i want him in a rutsack. i wanna kiss him. he's so ugly he's so gorgeous. also i love the way you draw vil he's so scrimblio

SO TRUE SO TRUE sorry this took so long to answer i was doing hot girl shit (grocery shopping, watching inuyasha) all day but this is so true!!! honestly the only thing i would argue with you on is that rook isn't exclusively weird towards non-human students; he ALSO pulls that shit with humans, like when he shot that arrow at ace, deuce, yuu, and grim during book five to send the message that they were chosen. he's an equal opportunity weirdo!

honestly what intrigues me the most about him is that technically, he's considered a "heroic" character- he has the same light magic that kalim and silver, who are both based on "heroic" characters do instead of everyone else's dark magic. and thats so fucking interesting like...i don't know if i would consider rook or the huntsman from snow white heroic characters exactly. sure the huntsman helps snow white but for us playing the game rook helping neige means WE lose out on a lot. in the end both of them do what they consider to be the right thing but god. i need to hit him with a 2x4 tbh

also thank you! i haven't drawn vil in so long i should draw him again...in 2020 i just could think of a lot more funny jokes about him to draw LMAO now im old and decrepit and i have no ideas

#asks #twst

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

if carlisle and dumbledore were put in each other's respective stories / dilemmas , how do you think they would react? how would a carlisle cullen have dealt with voldemort/grindelwald? and how dumbledore would have dealt with vampirism, etc? i almost view the two of them as a sort of foil to each other, not yet able to articulate why or how though

I mean, they'd live completely different lives, because they're completely different characters. It's very unlikely they'd end up in the same situations.

But alright.

Carlisle is Dumbledore

Carlisle's born in a working class family that quickly begins to fall apart. His father's sent to prison, his mother dies, his sister has a chronic illness that will never disappear, and it's just him and his brother left with very little chance of a future between them.

Handsome Gellert Grindelwald moves in next store with grand, new, ideas concerning the muggles.

Now, this particular Carlisle won't be Christian, he's a pureblood wizard and we can pretty safely assume that the Dumbledores were no more religious than any other wizarding family is.

It's a little up in the air whether Carlisle would be seduced by Gellert or not. Gellert is learned, foreign, and has all these radical, new, theories that weren't very prevalent at the time (well, anti muggleborn sentiment was, the facism was new). On the other hand though, Carlisle is also a man who once radically changed his own beliefs to something that went against nearly every edict of his previous religion. This is not a guy who takes things for granted and is not afraid to both confront himself and the true nature of the world he lives in.

And he has a deep respect for human life that, had it been any lesser, would have undoubtedly led to him eating humans as a vampire.

So, I'm going to say no, or if he does, it lasts up until Gellert says, "We should totally make the muggles our slaves." The muggles may have irreparably damaged Carlisle's sister, they may be hated by society, but they are free thinking beings who should be enslaved to no one. Carlsile raises his pacifism flag.

As a result, Gellert probably thinks he's a tool. Hot, of course, and intelligent, but a useless tool. Without somebody to bounce ideas off of/confirm his radicalization, Gellert has little to no interest in Carlisle or any of the Dumbledores. Gellert spends his time in Godric's Hollow then goes elsewhere, Ariana lives, at least for now, unclear how long her lifespan was going to be otherwise, Carlisle does not have the Gellert incident, and he and Abeforth remain on good terms.

Carlisle graduates Hogwarts and either is a) bullied into taking Flamel's apprenticeship opportunity by Abeforth who screams "DUDE, GET YOURSELF A FUTURE or b) immediately sets about trying to find a relatively high paying job so he can support the family. In the case of B, I imagine he goes to work for the goblins who seem to hire those straight out of Hogwarts with good enough grades. In the case of A, well, he goes to study alchemy.

Knowing Carlisle, he does a bastardization of both. He studies alchemy under Flamel and then works nights as a bartender in Paris or something to that effect. When he finishes, what career he does then is out in the air.

Given that, as a vampire, he had all the choices in the world open to him in terms of education (and tried many different things) before eventually settling on and sticking with human medicine despite the dangers, I think that's telling. Carlisle probably tries to get a job in something healing related.

However, that strays more into the "What if Carlisle was in the wizarding world" vs. "What if Carlisle was Dumbledore" so we'll say that the idea of teaching appeals to him and he returns to Hogwarts for the Transfiguration position.

This all goes well except then there's a first world war on, the muggle world goes completely insane, and no one understands why Carlisle's so upset.

And now we enter the world where Carlisle starts really making choices in Dumbledore's shoes.

First, Tom Riddle. Carlisle, I imagine, makes 100,000 times of a better impression than Dumbledore on the young Tom. He does not, for one, light his wardrobe on fire and threaten him. Carlisle might think this kid is weird, but he lives in poverty and an orphanage, much of his behavior can be explained from that. I imagine Carlisle becomes determined to take Tom under his wing.

I imagine at first Tom thinks this is excellent, LOOK HOW MUCH HE'S MANIPULATING THIS ADULT! And then he realizes that, no, Carlisle is perfectly aware he's a little shit. He just likes talking to Tom after classes about how to fit in with pureblood society/weird esoteric muggle philosophy.

Trouble is, Carlisle is so damn likeable (see his friends all over the world), that Tom can't help but like him. When the Blitz begins, and Carlisle undoubtedly offers Tom (and any other muggleborn who was not moved to the country) a place to stay, that seals the deal, the wizarding world might suck but Carlisle's a pretty cool guy.

Of course, Tom still thinks the government should be reformed or overthrown, but he and Carlisle actually sit down to talk about things like communism and facism (Carlisle's not a fan though the modern, muggle, form of democracy not practiced in the wizarding world is a weird concept to him).

My point being, it's unlikely this Tom Riddle becomes Voldemort or even really aspires to become him. You want more on that topic, check out these posts.

Grindelwald meanwhile, becomes a bigger and bigger deal, and things start looking... bad. However, it's not immediately obvious that Carlisle's the one who should do something about it. He's not a duelist, he's a professor, and his job is to teach the children. He may have been alright in school, but that was decades ago now. More, unlike Albus, he feels no personal responsibility, he knew Gellert, briefly, yes, but they had no real connection. Gellert spoke about insane things and Carlisle said, "Mm, don't like". Add to that that Carlisle's a pacifist, he's going to insist that someone trained for the position do the job.

Given canon, this means that Grindelwald likely invades and takes over wizarding England and, with a strong enough foothold, enacts his "enslave the muggles" plan. Which very well might result in a nuclear holocaust as Grindelwald was likely not keeping up with muggle technology and the muggle world war.

The muggle world collapses, which in turn causes society collapse, and the world may or may not be a nuclear wasteland that Tom and Carlisle get to wander around.

If Carlisle by some divine intervention has a prophetic dream of "YOU MUST DEFEAT GRINDELWALD OR DOOM DOOM DOOM" then he goes and tries to defeat Grindelwald. Considering Grindelwald has the elder wand, he probably needs Deus ex Phoenix to win, but if it worked for Dumbledore it might work for Carlisle.

Well. No one saw that coming.

Carlisle's an overnight sensation and a national hero, the hero of Western Europe even. He's suddenly being presented medals, honors, seats of power, and Carlisle desperately tries to refuse, feeling very squeamish that he's being given these things because he took it upon himself to murder another human being (yes, even a war lord).

Tom finds this funny and Abeforth is ureservedly proud and tells everybody.

All Carlisle wanted to do was teach children and now he has to reside over trials in the Wizengamot. This is terrible.

As for what happens to the wizarding world from there, well, inertia probably carries it along for a good while. However, antimuggleborn sentiment is still on the rise an even without Voldemort I imagine there's quite a bit of unrest.

I imagine Carlisle, not wanting in any way to be a political figure, is not nearly as outspoken as Dumbledore on anything. He just wants to be headmaster, guys, leave him alone.

Tom may or may not go into politics and do it for him. But he probably ends up teaching too and just laughs as the country collapses.

Harry Potter is an ordinary student who has no prophecy surrounding him. Carlisle did not recruit children to join an illegal resistance movement nor does he have a plethora of spies and moles in the ministry.

Harry Potter canon does not happen.

Dumbledore is Carlisle

Well, Dumbledore undoubtedly also burned witches and very much believed in their existence. An irony there. He may chase the vampire, probably isn't first in the mob, in which case he remains human or dies.

If he does survive being bitten, I imagine it pains him for a while, but I don't see Albus having the same willpower as Carlisle. Or at least, not as much, Albus probably ends up eating people. He at first probably tries to be picky and eats those who harm society in some way (pick your poison for what that means) and then over time becomes less picky.

They're just humans, after all.

Albus probably isn't invited to stay in Volterra, he's not all that interesting. He doesn't become a human doctor, he's just your ordinary vampire. He might hang around libraries as much as he can but that's about as far as that extends.

He probably turns a Gellert equivalent at some point as a mate and they have a grand time together.

Edward is never turned nor the rest of the Cullens and Bella dies in a parking lot.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #carlisle cullen #albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion #harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 2]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, some soft ‘woo too, restraints, panties as a gag, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, oral(fem receiving), cum eating, sir!kink. My god it has been a week, a WEEK i tell you 🥲 Ldfkjdf I hope the lot of you are taking a big deep breath this weekend and doing something to relax or doing some self care cuz baby we all need it!💕 Treat yourself to something good! Take that nap! Buy that album! Get that coffee! I’ll try to bust out some thirst posts this weekend(i think we all deserve some, eh?🥴) should tumb1r not hate my blog and as usual, inbox round up tomorrow! 💕💕 For now, de-stress with ch 2 of UIMY, and have a great weekend! I love you!! 💕💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x

You only get about 4 hours of sleep, if you’re being honest.

You won’t tell when asked because quite frankly, you’re a little embarrassed at how giddy you are to see Wonwoo today. You eagerly attend your morning class - panties already wet and mouth watering with the fantasies playing out in your head throughout the entire lecture.

“Hey, study buddy!”

Minghao slings an arm around your shoulder just as you turn to make a beeline towards the library, almost directing you into a different direction. “Where you headed off to? You wanna grab lunch?” Shit.

In the time that Wonwoo was gone, you’d spent a lot of time hanging out with other people trying to fill in the gap where, normally, you’d be spending underneath Wonwoo.

“I, um…” Going to get lunch with Minghao was one of the things that had become a normal thing after your morning classes and you hadn’t had the chance to tell him that your ‘usual’ schedule was back. “I--I’m gonna go study at the library for a bit! I’m really sorry! Can we go another day?” You pout at him which quickly melts off of your face when he shoots you a knowing smile.

“Gonna go ‘study’ Wonwoo-hyung, huh?”

Minghao lets you go - telling you to let him know when you weren’t busy.

You all but tear the front door open once you reach the familiar library; sheepish smile when it makes more noise than you anticipate.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to pay the price of breaking the door.”

Wonwoo smirks at you from behind the receptionist table; familiar and warm when you step closer to the counter. “Maybe I do? What do you know?” You quip back, cheeks warm and head fuzzy at the sight of Wonwoo back in his usual sweater vest and slacks.

He leans in closer to you over the countertop, gesturing to you to lean in close as well. His lips ghost across the shell of your ear as goosebumps rise on your skin and shivers roll down your spine and the familiar thrum of arousal pours over your body.

“I know you were probably thinking about me all morning, sweetheart. Thinking of all the things I’d do to you.” Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, “Your panties are probably already soaked, hmm? Like my good little slut always ready to take my cock.”

His filthy, whispered words are enough for you to whimper quietly - eyes downcast as you only lean in closer. “Y-yes… Wonwoo, p-please, I--”

Wonwoo leans away from you and you find yourself letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“You’ll have to wait. I need to file these late slips and sort these books.”

There’s a teasing smile on his face as he watches your lips part in shock. “But you can do that, right? Be patient?”

No.

“I--y-yes...” 

You pick a table far from the others as you watch Wonwoo roll the cart with books into another row of bookshelves.

It felt a little odd to you now that you thought about it - waiting so patiently for Wonwoo when you were used to him caging you in against a bookshelf with his fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt or even just tugging you straight away into an empty study room on days when neither of you could wait to get your clothes off.

There was a certain softness that he seemed to show with you now; one that you appreciated and made you feel things that you’d never felt in any relationship before.

Wonwoo would admit he wasn’t always good with showing his emotions with other people.

“He only shows it sometimes,” Jeonghan had said, “Usually to his hyungs and usually when he wants something.”

Which was true.

He struggled with letting his guard down and a lot of the time felt shy about voicing his emotions.

But with you, he felt differently. He wanted to show you that he was capable of letting his guard down and capable of showing you the affection and care that you deserved - even if the relationship the two of you had started was only physical at first. The time away from you only proved to him that he definitely cared about you more than he had initially thought too.

While his semester abroad was entertaining and educational, he found himself thinking about you often in the midst of his excavations and lectures. Wondering about what you were doing and who you were with; if you really thought about him as often as you had messaged him so.

“Um, excuse me?”

“O-oh, huh?”

He’s pulled from his thoughts just as another student steps in front of him in the aisle of books. “Sorry, I don’t remember where this book is from. Is it okay if I just give it to you?”

“Sure.”

It takes twenty more minutes of you pretending to study before Wonwoo’s legs step into your periphery.

You open your mouth to speak but Wonwoo is quicker.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but I need to speak to you regarding some books you failed to return.”

You try to hide the wide smile on your face when Wonwoo leads you down the familiar, lonesome side of the library.

“I’ll have you step into this room, miss.”

“Wonwoo, there’s literally nobody here…” Chuckling, you step into the empty, cleaned room that Wonwoo had painstakingly made sure was dusted before you came. “Unless we’re roleplaying, ‘cause then, I’m sorry, sir…”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him before easily walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the desk.

“You should be sorry, sweetheart. First, slamming the doors earlier and now overdue books? Tsk, when will you learn.” He easily slips into character, fingertips already ghosting against the exposed skin of your thighs before playing with the hem of your short skirt.

“How are you going to pay back what you owe, hmm? The damages might be irreparable.” He drags his hand up and under the flimsy material; appreciating the way your legs part a little more for him. A quiet moan floats past your lips just as his fingertips press gently into the growing wet patch of your panties.

“Already wet, too? Why exactly is that, sweetheart?”

“A-ah, ‘c-cause I want--want you to fuck me, s-sir… Been thinking a-about it all day… Just--just like you said...” You clench around emptiness, already impatient now that he had his hands on you.

“You have, huh? I bet you played with yourself last night, didn’t you? Fingered your slutty ‘lil hole and filled it up with a toy just to prep yourself for me.”

“Y-yes, sir…” Your guilty eyes avoid Wonwoo’s stern gaze, “I’m s-sorry… I--I couldn’t, ah, wait... Just t-talking to you, yesterday, I....”

Wonwoo’s fingers press hard against you, immediately rubbing your clit through your soaked panties as you mewl and lean into his warm chest.

“P-please… punish m-me…”

You can only whine around the fabric stuffed in your mouth; hands tied behind your back with Wonwoo’s belt keeping them bound.

Your body jerks against the small desk as Wonwoo fucks you from behind in the small enclosed space you were used to and a certain warmth pours over you knowing that nothing really had changed since he’d left.

“Shit, I really missed cumming inside your tight lil’ pussy and making you walk home with my cum dripping down your legs.” There’s a soft chuckle under his breath; cock curving right into your g-spot as you whine and squirm underneath him.

“Bet you missed it too, huh? Getting home and fingering your filthy ‘lil cunt, fucking my cum deeper inside of you ‘cause you couldn’t get enough of me. Fuck, and when you’d send me pictures of your cute ‘lil fingers covered in my cum…”

Wonwoo smirks at your back, placing a hand on your bound arms as he uses it for leverage to fuck you deeper and harder.

“I’m back for good now though, sweetheart. Let’s see what else your cute cock starved body can take.”

You can only moan back in return - spit soaking into the wet fabric in your mouth as Wonwoo only fucks you harder. “God, your cunt is so fuckin’ perfect. Made to take my cock.” When you clamp down onto his cock tighter is when Wonwoo realizes he misses hearing your voice - chuckling softly as he leans over your trembling body.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh, sweetheart?”

He reaches around, tugging the soaking material from between your lips and placing it next to your head before he straightens back up. “Ngh… I, ah, s-sir…” You turn your head to the side, watching the wall as your body jerks atop the desk. “P-please… I--I wanna see y-you, hah, when y-your fuh--fuck me…”

A soft blush coats Wonwoo’s cheeks as he halts his movements. 

He clears his throat, pulling his cock out of you before stepping back and giving you space to readjust yourself. And with your arms still bound, you struggle slightly but manage.

This time, you sit atop the desk, spreading your legs wide for Wonwoo who licks his lips at the sight of your slightly mussed hair, blown out pupils and soaked cunt.

“That’s my good ‘lil slut.”

He positions himself between your legs, wrapping a hand around his cock and rubbing the head on your sensitive clit as you whimper. He circles the nub with the head of his cock, teasing you and himself as you squirm. “I take it you’ll be at the party tomorrow night, right?” His question catches you slightly off guard as you nod shakily.

“Good. ‘Cause I got you a present that I want to give to you tomorrow.”

“O-okay…”

Wonwoo sinks his cock back into you; cock curving into you perfectly as you cry out in return. “O-oh, god, s-sir--Wonwoo, I--fuck…” A choked sob bubbles up your throat at the feeling of him starting a harsh and quick pace, just how you liked it. “Mmh, my t-toys don’t feel as, hah, g-good as you… Fuck, you feel s-so good inside me…”

You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his back to push him in closer to yourself. “Use m-me like I’m your little cumslut...” The desperation sets in; tears freely falling from your eyes as the urge to cum on his cock becomes unbearable from the hellish months without him.

“Please, p-please… Harder, fuck me harder! I n-need it!”

He grins, knowing just how you felt but keeping his composure as he doubles his pace. “So fuckin’ desperate for me, sweetheart. You sound so pretty begging for me. Is that what you sounded like when you were touching yourself too? Begging for me all night long?”

“Y-yes, fuck! Ngh, fucking my ‘lil holes with my t-toys all night j-just to be satisfied… Oh, god, Wonwoo!”

You can’t stop yourself from cumming - toes curling and thighs shaking as your walls flutter around his cock. Wonwoo only fucks you harder as soft growls fall from his own lips.

“Fuck, I missed this, missed you. Missed your tight ‘lil cunt cumming around my cock, sweetheart.” He mumbles soft praises to you, although you can barely hear it in the midst of your orgasm; ears ringing and head feeling hazy at the intensity.

Wonwoo fares no better - cock throbbing inside your warm walls as his orgasm hits him hard only after a few more quick snaps of his hips.

Your bound arms behind you do little to keep your tired body upright atop the table but you do your best as he rides out his high. “Mmh, I can feel y-you cumming inside me… Fuck, it feels soooo gooood.” Drool pools in your mouth at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you for the first time in months and you mentally tell yourself to never let Wonwoo disappear for that long of time ever again.

“Ah, I feel so f-full…” Whining, you squirm as he continues to thrust into you, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy as you throw your head back at the fullness and wetness you feel. “Oh… Wonwoo…”

He lets out a deep breath before he slowly starts to pull out of you - cock covered in his cum and your wetness as he watches his cum drip from your spent hole. You slowly unhook your quivering thighs from around his waist as he steps back slightly.

“I--oh--”

You watch as he drops down to his knees, face right in front of your dripping cunt before he leans in.

“Oh, Wonwoo--” His tongue peeks out, lapping at your soaked folds before he drags it down and starts licking up the cum. “Fuck, oh, fuck…!”

Wonwoo dips his tongue into your hole, teasing you as your legs tremble and you try your hardest to not clamp your thighs around his head between your legs. You start to fight your restraints; fingertips wanting to thread through his hair as you grind against his skilled tongue.

 He licks up more of the cum before dragging his tongue up to your overly sensitive clit; rubbing soft, slow circles on the nub until you’re a whining mess above him.

“A-ah, I--I can’t, mmh, ‘m too sen--sensitive, sir…”

He takes his as his cue to stand from his position, standing quietly before leaning over you. He threads a hand through your hair, tilting your head up and kissing you on the lips as you melt into his gentle touch.

Your eyes flutter shut at his soft kiss, lips parting slightly for him as he uses his tongue to push cum into your waiting mouth.

The kiss turns hot and heavy as he moves the salty, sticky substance from his mouth to yours - lips covered in a combination of your wetness and his cum when he pulls away.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.”

When the two of you are somewhat cleaned up and ready to leave, Wonwoo stops you before you can get your hand on the doorknob.

“Hey, you okay?”

You shoot him a confused look, head tilted slightly at the bespectacled male that only looks mildly disheveled. “Um… y-yeah? Why?” His hand on your wrist makes your heart do backflips in your chest as he looks you over once more.

“I should’ve had some water for you and done proper aftercare since it’s been a while. I might've hurt you? Are your wrists okay? I can--”

“Whoa, hey, slow down! You’re, like, freaking out, ‘Woo.”

A pale blush coats his cheeks, “Sorry, I’m just trying to… be more… Expressive? I don’t know. It’s been a while. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He laughs lightly, somewhat embarrassed himself. “I don’t want to be weird but, y’know. I want to take care of you properly, sweetheart.”

“I--yeah, I understand! But I’m fine, I promise!” You beam up at him - happiness evident in your eyes and your smile. “Thank you… for making an effort, Wonwoo.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu #svt fic

[khaleesiofalicante]

While a positivity blog is great, posing it in opposition with the "call-out" blog immediately devalues it. The one person who was called out on that account (the original one) was an adult sexualizing teenagers who blocked anyone who tried to tell her that what she was doing was harmful. It makes it seem like you're trying to support adults who sexualize minors.

There's no way to "communicate" with someone who blocks anyone who tries to "call" them "in". a call out is a statement that this type of behavior isn't acceptable and a promise to make the fandom a safer space for teenagers.

I asked very respectfully not to send me follow up questions on this matter. Because this whole "call out" thing had been weighing on my mental health.

But once again, I keep getting dragged into this.

This my response to every ask I've gotten regarding this matter over the last few days. The asks I've been ignoring because it's not my place to give an opinion on this. Or rather, I do not have to. I don't have an obligation to do so.

But here we are.

The very reason I find the call out blog problematic is because of a sentence you said in your ask.

You mentioned that because I find the call out blog problematic and I quote "it makes it seem like you're trying to support adults who sexualize minors."

This is the problem.

The call out is not the problem. It's the way in which they are being called out.

Over the last few days, I've seen tsc blogs, for the lack of a better word, being "investigated". Posts dug from the past, follower lists analysed, screenshots posts and shared in public.

This is not a call out. A call out refers to interpersonal confrontations occurring between individuals on social media. In theory, call-outs should be very simple – someone does something wrong, people tell them, and they avoid doing it again in the future.

Now I understand you mentioned an individual refused to listen. I will not comment on that - since I do not know this individual personally or how they reacted. I do not prefer to talk about people I don't know personally. Neither the people calling them out - or the person being called out.

But what I can tell you is that when you call out someone, it only works when you point out why they are wrong, not what what they are doing is wrong. So, instead of calling someone a pedophile, it is essential to explain how their behaviour impacts you or your peers. It is important to address this issue in the larger fandom, not just by spamming one person's ask box. Because this issue is greater than one blog.

The reason why I don't condone this call out blog is because it is so easily possible to get carried away and overpunish people, turning alleged perpetrators of upsetting acts into victims themselves. The moral high ground people stand on evolves from calling out to public shaming of individuals.

I am requesting this entire fandom to rethink your actions and to reevaluate your choices. All of you.

It breaks my heart that you would say that I support adults who sexualise minors when have spent my whole adult life protecting children from such people. It is literally my job.

I recently saw one of my dearest friends being called "homophobic" because they support Jace - because Jace 'outed' Alec and therefore those who support Jace are also homophobic. It really hurt because I know the struggles my friend had to go through in order to protect themselves from their own homophobic family.

It makes me so sad and yet so angry that you are not aware of the consequences your words have on people.

People who make such claims. You seem to forget that we live in a digital world now. You all seem to forget that we are living through a pandemic. We study online. We work online. We entertain ourselves online.

So when you shame people online so callously, it can affect irreparable damage on their professional lives. It can ruin their mental health. It can impact their families.

While the intention of the callout blog - and those who support it - might be honest, the way in which they are achieving their goal is incredibly harmful for people in this fandom regardless of whether they are guilty or not.

I want to point out that this call out blog achieves nothing. It doesn't root out the pedophilia and sexism that exists on Tumblr - or in the fandom. The call out blog does't achieve anything. I'm sorry. It had to be said. The only thing this blog achieve is spreading a culture of shame, fear and stigma in the tsc fandom.

So, I urge you to rethink your actions and reevaluate your methods.

I do not believe in giving bland advice. So, as someone who works on these issues, allow me to point you in an healthier and more effective decision.

WHAT CAN YOU DO?

If the goal is "a promise to make the fandom a healthier space for teenagers" then you are doing it wrong. I say this as someone who works on creating healthy spaces for teenagers. It's up to you whether you want to listen to me or not.

But you are going about it wrong. Here is what you can do instead.

1. What we are doing wrong? Currently, you seem to be focusing on the people - not the issue. If you want to make the space feel safe, you need to address the root cause. What differentiates a call-out from bullying is that it shouldn’t be about punishing someone for something they have done, rather it should be about establishing a new pattern of behavior. In other words, when someone calls you out they want you to start showing through your actions that you care about the issue you’ve been called out on. So, show that you care about the issue.

2. How do we show we care? Focus on the teenagers. You are focusing on the wrong group of people. Cancelling out someone or calling out a blog or getting someone to deactivate is not going to make teenagers feel safe. Trust me on this. You need to address the issue to the victims. You need to ASK THEM how they want to be feel safe. While your method might work for you, it might not be what everyone wants. It might not make everyone feel safe. So, talk to your peers. What is it that you can do for your own community? Is it writing an email to CC about this issue in the fandom? Is it addressing it in a larger platform like a magazine or YouTube? Is it reaching to Tumblr and talking to them about doing their job and enforcing the community guidelines efficiently? THIS is how you fix the problem - not by chasing people out when you find them to be problematic.

3. Why are you complicating this? Why can't we just call people out? Because then you will only be addresing the symptoms, not the root cause. I understand that most of you are minors and therefore will not have the same awareness about how the system works or don't ahem access to same resources and opportunities we adults do. But unfortunately, it is our reality. We all live online. We all need to educate ourselves and do better.

I'm sharing an excellent resource here which was developed by UN WOMEN in 2021 to speficially tackle the issue of bullying, disinformation and hate speech experienced by youth - especially young women. It's a free online course that helps you learn this topic better. It even gives you a certificate from the organization.

I am ALL for calling people out as long as you do it the right way. So, if you want to be a warrior on Tumblr, if you want to protect your peers, if you want to create a safe space, you need to learn how to do it the right way. Otherwise, like most social activists, you are doing more bad than good. Your attempts to create a better world only lead to more chaos and pain.

4. I still don't understand. Then here is a simply answer. I hope this helps.

Please make better choices. Be conscious of how your actions online affect people both in digital and offline spaces.

You are allowed to fight for your safety. You are allowed to fight for your rights. But you are not allowed to hurt another person to prove your point. Then your whole initiative becomes counterproductive.

You need to be more aware. You need think more critically.

Finally and most importantly - I once again ask that you do not drag me into this. I am not the president of this fandom. I am not your parent. While it is my job to create awareness and work on online safety, I am not on tumblr to be an activist. This is my safe space. This is my comfort space. This is where I come to take my mind off all the stressful and heartbreaking things I have to work on as an activist. I am here to shit post like most people. I do not have to teach you to be decent or how to be sensible or how to be kind. That is the job of the education system and your family.

I'm sorry those around you have failed you and it has come to this. I only hope you do not fail yourself.

Make better choices.

Love, Dani.

#tsc fandom #tsc #cyber bullying

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter II

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and eventual smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Your wedding came and went like the wind. 

It hadn’t been a large affair - barely more than fifty people had attended - but your mother had cried of course, and so had Jungkook’s mum, and at the end of it you were Mrs Jeon.

Your new husband had kissed you at the end of it - gently, quickly, like it didn’t really mean much - but you couldn’t help it that your heart skipped at the feeling.  Your first kiss with the man you’d spent most of your life loving, and it was like vapour.

And now here you were, stood in the foyer of Jungkook’s apartment, wondering what the hell you were doing.  You felt like some kind of imposter - a woman only pretending to be Jungkook’s wife.  You tightened the hold on your suitcase, the one your mother had made you pack only a week prior.

“Most of your things will be sent over in the days after you marry,” She’d told you, eyes mischievous, “But you’ll need something special for your wedding night.”

You scoffed. 

Your wedding night had been anything but spectacular. 

Bangtan had splashed out on an incredibly expensive hotel complete with matching robes and expensive champagne, but you’d spent most of the night alone.  You hadn’t been able to bare much of the reception, claiming a headache only an hour and a half into the festivities, and though Jungkook had seemed less than happy about it, he’d told you to make your way to the hotel room without him.

Of course, when you’d arrived all you’d done was to get into bed and cry yourself into some kind of dreamless sleep, feeling like nothing could ever make you happy again.  Hours had passed before Jungkook joined you, and when he did, you didn’t mention the smell of perfume on him, and he stayed far, far away from you.

You shook your head furiously, trying to rid your mind of all those horrible memories. 

One day, you hoped, you’d have beautiful children, and then you could shower them with all of your unrequited love.

“Are you listening to me?”

Jungkook’s voice shook you out of your reverie and you turned to face him sharply, eyes wide.

“What?”

He sighed heavily, “I said you can either move into the guest room or join me in the master bedroom.  What would you prefer?”

You knew what your heart wanted of course. 

As stupid as it may have been - and it was astoundingly dumb - you still wanted to share Jungkook’s life with him.  You wanted to be able to indulge in the intimacies of marriage and your chest tightened as you remembered what you were to your husband - a hindrance.

“Will it be alright if we share different beds?”

He rose a dark brow, “What do you mean?”

“Your employees,” You clarified, tucking some hair behind your ears and avoiding his eyes, “They won’t think it’s… Inappropriate, will they?”

You hated the strange code of conduct you were being forced into.  You loved Jungkook - you wanted to give him yourself, whole heartedly - and yet you had to walk around the truth.  You had to pretend like every moment you spent here wasn’t causing irreparable damage to your heart. 

Jungkook shrugged, “So what if they do?  I don’t give a shit what people say and neither should you.  You should sleep wherever you prefer.”

The words hung in the air and you watched his face carefully.

He knew how you felt about him didn’t he?  So he had to know you’d prefer sharing his bed.  You collected yourself, and after a moment smiled gently.

“Then I think we should share the master bedroom.” If he was surprised he hid it well.  

“Okay.  This way then.”

You followed him down the hallway and stared at the planes of his back.  The suit jacket he was wearing hugged his shoulders perfectly, and despite yourself something in your stomach swelled.

You were his wife now, weren’t you?

Did that not come with certain expectations?

You wondered if Jungkook even found you attractive.  Surely if he wanted you in any capacity, he would’ve come looking for your company on your wedding night.

You bit back the tears.  Now was not the time for this.

The master bedroom was big of course, but basically empty.  Jungkook cleared his throat as you stood in the doorway to the room, observing your surroundings.

“I don’t spend a lot of time at home,” He started by way of explanation, “So urm… That’s why everything’s quite bare.”

You nodded slowly, “I understand.”

“You can do whatever you want in here,” He waved his hand noncommittally, “Within reason, of course.” The joke was weak but you pushed out a soft laugh nonetheless.

“Is that all you have with you?” He pointed at the small piece of luggage you were holding.

You shrugged, “My mom insisted she’d have the rest sent over to me,” You dropped the suitcase at the end of the huge bed you’d be sharing with Jungkook for maybe the rest of your life.

“So what’s in there then?”  He cocked his head to the side, confused.

You felt your cheeks blush, brazenly, and you cleared your throat, more than a little uncomfortable.

“She told me to pack some things for the wedding night,” You answered, finally lifting your gaze to meet with his, “It’s not a big deal.”

But you knew that was a lie.  Your heart was beating rapidly at just the thought of Jungkook knowing you’d brought intimate clothing along with you, and you knew that the only reason you’d told him it was because you wanted him to think about you scantily clad in lacy underwear.

You wanted him to be attracted to you, despite the fact this marriage was born out of duty for him.  You thought that maybe if he wanted your body, you could find a way to open up his heart as well.

“They still do that?”  Jungkook’s voice was painted with disbelief.  

You quirked a brow, “Do what?” “The whole wedding night lingerie thing,” He laughed tightly, “My hyungs all told me about it but it just sounds… Kind of outdated to me.” Another stab in the heart.  You tugged a hand through your hair.

“Oh.” He frowned carefully and sighed, “I’m sorry.  Did that hurt your feelings?”

It pained you how easily Jungkook saw through your armour.  How would you survive a lifetime with him?  How could you hide from his gaze when he knew you so well? 

You felt stupid and useless suddenly.

“No.”  You replied, voice catching slightly at the end, “You’re right.  It is outdated.” You thought of the racy red number your mother had insisted Jungkook would love.  He would never see it of course - but part of you had hoped he would.  Part of you had hoped he’d not only see you in it… But love you in it, too.

It was a foolish hope.

“Is it alright if I rest?” You asked him after a moment, smiling despite the tears that crawled up the back of your throat, “I’m really quite tired.  It’s been a long week.”

Jungkook’s eyes searched your face and you forced your expression into one of neutrality.  Just because he knew how you felt - just because he knew you loved him - didn’t mean you always had to be the vulnerable one.

You could learn to protect yourself.  You’d grown up around monsters.  Around people who manipulated and hurt others.

You just had to learn how to navigate this new reality.

This marriage.

“Yes of course,” Jungkook told you once his eyes had searched right down to the very depths of your soul, “Dinner will be served at around seven, okay?”

You nodded, tightly, “Fine.”

 He watched you for a moment more, before finally slipping out of the door and allowing your facade to finally relax.  You crawled onto the king sized bed, and pulled the blankets up around you - finally giving way to the tears that had been scratching the back of your eyelids since the minute you woke up this morning.

And as you lay in the bed you’d share with your husband - crying once again over the man who had your heart but didn’t deserve it - you promised yourself that this would be that last time.

That you wouldn’t cry over Jeon fucking Jungkook again.

And even though you were lying to yourself, you repeated that mantra to yourself all night. Over and over again.

Until finally you fell asleep.

And even then you dreamt of him.

//

The days passed through your fingers like sand.  You spent more time than ever pining after Jungkook - qua though the two of you now shared a bed, nothing had changed. 

During the day your husband was barely home.  And even when he was he was always too busy to pay you any attention.

And at night you slept as far away from each other as possible.  Most nights were spent falling asleep to the sight of the planes of his smooth back.

Jungkook wasn’t cruel.  He always spoke to you kindly.  He smiled whenever he saw you, and occasionally laughed at any jokes you tried to make.

But he was distant.  Always held you at an arm’s length.

He never searched out your company, and you wondered if maybe that was because he knew how you felt.  He knew you loved him - he knew you’d loved him for so long - and maybe he didn’t want to make matters worse.

He had never promised you love.  In fact… He had almost promised you the polar opposite.

And so you spent most of your time alone. 

Today was no different.

You tugged on the thread you were using to patch up one of Jungkook’s suit jackets - no doubt he’d created the tears during one of his many business meetings - and sighed heavily to yourself.

You’d seen the jacket earlier that morning, hanging in your shared closet, when you’d noticed the hole.  Perhaps it was a need to make Jungkook happy, or perhaps it was boredom, but either way now you were sitting with a needle and thread, fixing it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of what you were doing.  

“Come in,” You said softly, expecting Jennie to be on the other side.  When the portal opened and it was actually Nayeon you stood excitedly, dropping Jungkook’s jacket and rushing over to her.

“Did you miss me?”  She smiled widely as you rushed into her waiting embrace, squeezing her tightly.

“Oh my god, so much,”  You pulled back and felt your eyes well up with tears, “Sorry.  I’m so emotional these days.”

She grinned and ran a hand through your hair, “Nothing to apologise for.”

You led her over to the small couch that sat in the corner of your bedroom, and the two of you sat down together.  

“How have you been?”  She asked after a moment. 

You wiped at a tear that had unceremoniously tracked down your cheek, “He barely talks to me.”

The words were not accusing, but there was sadness in them. 

Nayeon frowned, “He’s acting like a real jackass.”

“No,” You shook your head vehemently, “It’s not his fault.  This whole situation… It’s fucked up.”

“Still.  He shouldn’t be mean.”

“He isn’t,” You insisted, “We just… He’s hardly at home as it is… And when he is the last thing he wants to do is talk to me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N,” She really did look sorry too.

You shrugged helplessly, “How many marriages in Bangtan are loveless?”

“Whatever. I just hope he’s not…” She stopped herself abruptly and clicked her tongue, “Never mind.”

You quirked a brow, “No…What were you going to say Nayeon?”

”I don’t want to upset you more,” She answered honestly, eyes shifting across your face carefully.

“There’s next to nothing at the moment that could make me feel any worse.”

It was a terrible sentiment, but it was the truth. Things seemed so bleak that you couldn’t imagine any information would cause a further rift in your already distant marriage.

“It’s just…” Nayeon tugged a hand through her hair and pursed her lips, “You know what Jungkook is like. He’s always dated lots of women at the same time. I’m just - I hope he’s ended those relationships.”

Your heart sank.

Immediately his words from earlier that month rolled across your mind.

I’m not a man of commitment.

Did that mean he didn’t want to be faithful to you?  Was he warning you of his inability to keep to just one woman for the rest of his life?

You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Jungkook would cheat on you. Sure, he’d told you he might never love you… But an affair would be too much, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t - we haven’t spoken about that.” You felt your voice shake.

“I know my brother can be a bastard,” Nayeon shook her head, “But if he cheated on you… I would never forgive him.”

Her words fell on you like concrete.

Would you be able to forgive him? 

In a sense, Jungkook didn’t really owe you faithfulness did he? In fact… He might have very well warned you against it.

You swallowed thickly.

“You should ask him about it,” Your best friend’s words were resolute, “If he cares for you… Even a little bit, then he’ll give you that respect.”

She was right of course.

Arranged marriage or not, he still owed you basic decency.

You nodded gently, “You’re right.”  Your chest was tight as Nayeon reached over and squeezed your hand, “I will.”

Now you would just have to work up the courage to do it.

//

Nayeon’s words played over and over again in your mind for the following week.  You had thought you were strong enough to bring it up to your husband but the truth was every time you wanted to do it, the words had slipped into the back of your throat.  Just one look into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes and you had found yourself rendered helpless.

“Y/N.”  Jungkook’s voice caused you to look up as you finished working on his suit jacket, “Hi.”

“Oh.”  The word left you in a rush, “Sorry.  I didn’t realise you would be home so early.” It was a Friday afternoon - sometime after four - and he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, watching you the way he always did.  

“What are you doing?” Your fingers faltered and you pulled the jacket up slightly, “Fixing this for you.  It’s been my pet project for the last week.”

“Oh.”  He mirrored your expression of surprise from earlier, taking a step towards you, “I see.” There was a beat of silence and then, “Why?” You tightened your grip on the jacket and felt your stomach roll over in anxiety.

“Why what?”

His eyes flickered, “Why are you fixing it for me?” Because I love you.

Of course you couldn't say that, so instead you opted for a shrug.

“Something to do, I suppose.”

After another long moment of watching, Jungkook smiled softly.

“Thank you,” He said, words warm, “That’s very kind of you.” You blushed at the compliment, however small it may be, and returned his smile, “It’s nothing.”

“I uh…” He cleared his throat and shook his head, “I realised that I forgot to tell you something quite important.” You cocked your head to the side, “What is it?” “Tonight.  There’s a gala.  One of Jimin’s things…”

You felt something akin to excitement swell inside of you.  It was sad… But any reason to spend time with Jungkook was something to be celebrated.  

“Right.”  Your smile widened, “What time?”

“Eight pm,” He told you carefully, “And you’ll need to dress up.” “I know that don’t worry.  I’ve been to Jimin’s galas before,” Your voice was slightly teasing and you almost reprimanded yourself for it. 

Perhaps once upon a time you could joke with Jungkook like that, but things were different now… Weren't they? Except Jungkook didn’t seem annoyed.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, “How could I forget?  You and Nayeon love causing trouble at the expense of my poor friend Jimin.” You giggled, “We both know Nayeon is the mastermind behind any and all trouble caused,” You shrugged, “I’m a helpless bystander.” “Helpless my ass,” His lips fell into a smirk, “Just because you look like an angel doesn't mean you always act like one.”

Your heart flipped.

An angel?

Jungkook must have noticed the change in your demeanor, because he suddenly seemed awkward himself.  He coughed slightly and tugged a hand through his dark hair.

“Anyway.  Just uh… be ready at half seven, alright?”  His face had slipped back into that infamous Bangtan mask, but you were still warm from his earlier words.

“Okay.  I will.” “And uh… Will the jacket be fixed for tonight?”

You felt slightly dazed.  Jacket?

“Huh?” His smile was small but he nodded towards the piece of clothing you were gripping so tightly your knuckles had turned white, “Your pet project.”

“Oh right.”  You turned the jacket over in your hands and nodded, “Yes.  Yeah.  It’ll be ready.” “Great.  I’ll have Minhyuk prepare the matching trousers for me, then.”

He smiled once more before leaving, and you realised you were holding your breath.

God.

It felt like you had been punched in the stomach.

But you sort of liked it.

//

“You look beautiful Y/N.”  Your maid Jennie tugged the brush through your hair one last time, “The red is striking.” You ran a hand down the bodice of the dress you’d chosen to wear - something stupidly expensive and incredibly tight - and smiled at her nervously.  

“Thank you.”

“Jungkook isn’t going to know what to do with himself,” She giggled and your grin widened. 

The two of you had always been close, despite the gap in social status.

You didn’t care what tradition dictated, Jennie was your friend - employee or not.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” You chuckled, biting on your bottom lip, “What time is it?” A knock at the door caused your head to turn and Jennie smirked.

“He’s right on time.” Your stomach fluttered at the thought of your husband, and when your maid moved to throw the portal open you almost fainted.

He looked… so good.

“Hi,” He smiled gently, “Are you ready?” You knew you were checking him out but you couldn’t help yourself.

The suit jacket you’d fixed for him fit him perfectly… And the trousers he was wearing only served to accentuate his perfect thighs.

“Y/N?” He cocked his head to the side and your heart twinged as a lock of hair fell precariously across his forehead.

Damn it.

Jennie pinched your arm and you realised how obvious you were being.

“Sorry,” You cleared your throat, “Yeah.  I’m ready.”

You weren’t ready at all.  Not to spend the rest of the evening in close quarters with the man who made you feel like a lovestruck teenager, anyway.

But what choice did you have?

Jungkook led you towards the garage, where his very expensive Porsche was parked, and when he held the door open for you, your pulse squeezed.

“Thanks,” You said, cheeks blazing.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered as he watched you climb inside, “No problem.”  He answered tightly, clicking the door shut and sliding into the driver’s seat.

It wasn’t until you eased onto the main road that Jungkook spoke again.

“You look nice,” He said, his eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

You turned to face him, your heart thumping uncomfortably against your ribcage, “What?”

“Oh come on don’t act like I’ve never said anything nice to you before,” He groaned, “You’ll make me feel like an asshole.”

“Oh I uh…” You blushed hotly, “Thanks.  I guess.”

“You guess?  Wow, way to take a compliment, Y/N.”  His tone was teasing and you felt yourself falling back into the friendship you’d shared with him before the two of you had been forced into marriage.

This was the Jungkook you fell in love with.

“I just didn’t expect you to say that,” You clarified, turning to look at this side profile.

God he was so handsome, it almost hurt.

“Well it’s true,” He shrugged and shot you a small smile, “You look nice.” “Well so do you.”  The words slipped out of you eagerly, “The uh… The suit jacket looks great.”

His smile grew, “It does.  Thanks to you, of course.  My little seamstress.”

Your heart skipped.

His little seamstress?

“Right,” You choked out, “Well.  If you ever need anything fixed then just send it my way.”

“I will.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you but all you could think about was the fact that he’d called you his.  Sure, it was in jest, and yeah maybe it wasn't the most romantic of things to say… But still.

It had to count for something.

When Jungkook pulled up in front of the same hotel Bangtan always used for social events, your heart was still fluttering wildly in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm.

There were paparazzi milling around the front entrance of the hotel of course, like there always were whenever Jimin organised a gala.  Suddenly you felt inadequate.

You’d never been photographed before - your family was not famous enough… You were not beautiful enough for the media to give a shit.

But you knew that Jungkook was well loved by the media - not only was he Bangtan’s resident casanova - but he was also the most open of the special seven.  He smiled for photos and had even occasionally bantered with the paparazzi.  He dated celebrities - models, singers… Actresses.  He was the media’s golden boy.

He was everyone’s golden boy.

Jungkook must have noticed your nerves because he turned to give you a soft smile.

“It’s alright  Y/N.  Just hold my hand and ignore them okay?”

You nodded, wordlessly, as he stepped out of the car and after a minute opened your door for you.  Immediately you felt the buzz of flashbulbs, and you were almost blinded by the light.  A warm hand enveloped your own and soon Jungkook was tugging you along.

You blinked against the flashing and watched your husband’s sturdy back, as he led you towards the front entrance determinedly.

“Jungkook!  Jungkook!  Is this your mysterious new girl?” “Jungkook!  Is it true you’re married?”

“Jungkook!  Smile!”

Jungkook didn’t stop for any questions and you were thankful for that, holding tightly onto his hand until he finally slipped inside the lobby of the hotel and the paparazzi was behind you.  He dropped your hand and you immediately felt cold.

“Here,”  He offered his arm, “This is the way Jimin’s always telling me to enter a room.” You nodded and slipped your own arm through his, ignoring the buzz that flitted through you at the contact.

God.  You loved him so much.

“Was that as bad as you thought it was going to be?”  He asked, eyes sympathetic as he led you over towards the ornate marble staircase.

You bit your bottom lip and sighed, “It was tough.”

“I’m sorry,” He frowned, “Really.  It will get better.”

“Jungkook-ah!”

You would recognise that voice anywhere.

Jihyo.

She was coming towards the two of you, beautiful face donning a wide smile.  Her eyes flickered between your linked arms for a moment, before she reached you.

“Hello Jihyo,” Jungkook nodded his head politely, “How are you?”

“I’m great Jungkookie,” The nickname caused a hot flush of anger to roll through you.  You knew exactly what game she was playing, “How are you?” “I’m fine,”  He turned to give you a smile, “You know my wife Y/N, don’t you?” Jihyo’s body froze at the word wife.  She was Taehyung’s cousin.

Surely she had to know the two of you had gotten married.

“Yeah, yeah.”  She gave you a sharp look, “Nice to see you Y/N.” But her words felt anything but nice.

Immediately you were reminded of Nayeon’s warning.

Your heart thundered against your chest.

What if Jungkook and Jihyo were….

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Anyway Jungkook I was going to ask you if you were free next weekend,” Her smile was coy as she fluttered her eyelashes up at your husband, “It’s my birthday and-” “We have plans.”

The words surprised you as much as they did Jungkook and you’d been the one to say them.

Jihyo’s gaze flickered over to your own and she raised an angry eyebrow, “What?”

“Me and my husband have plans next weekend,” You pasted the fakest smile onto your face, “Maybe next time.”

And with that you pulled Jungkook away from Jihyo pulse roaring in your ears.  You had no idea where that bout of courage had come from but just who did she think she was anyway?

Just because she’d always had everything she wanted, didn’t give her the right to act like a brat.

After a moment, Jungkook turned to give you a smirk, “What was that?” You tried to act nonchalant.

“What was what?”

“That.”  His smirk grew, “Were you jealous?” You felt something hot split across your cheeks.

“I don’t want you dating other women.”

The words fell like stones between the two of you.

Jungkook stopped, his eyes raking over you.  He frowned.

“I wouldn’t… I would never do that.” “You told me you weren’t a man of commitment,” You told him sincerely, feeling irrational tears crawl up your throat, “But I can’t… I won’t be able to deal with it if you have an affair.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened.  He shook his head.

“I didn’t mean I would see other women Y/N.”  He pressed a hand to your cheek and you wilted at his touch, “You’re my wife and I respect that.  Alright?”

You nodded, eyes boring into his.  You wished he would just open himself up to you.

“Okay.”  You whispered, not caring that you were surrounded by people, “Thank you.” He pulled his hand away and nodded gently.

Something in his gaze flickered.  Whether it was genuine affection or desire or something else entirely you weren’t sure.  But it wasn’t that cold indifference he wanted you to believe.

“Let’s go.  The others are waiting.”

Your heart turned as he slipped his hand into yours.

If only he could learn to love you, then maybe you really could be happy.

If only.

//

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #fanfic #mafia au #arrange marriage #unrequited love #one sided love #bangtan #bts #fanfiction #angst #smut #fluff

[august-bleeds-red]

Texas Heat

Alpha!Tommy x omega!Reader (AFAB). When you find yourself trapped within the Hewitt family’s web of murder, violence and pain, the last thing you expect to do is fall in love.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

~

The Texas sun beats mercilessly down on the back of your neck, the air thick and slow as dark molasses. You tied your sweater around your waist, but even that was too much for your sweating skin, so now it just hangs limply from your fingers.

 You manage to hitch a lift from a family of three on a cross-state road trip – the parents were both betas, the little girl in the back unpresented. You tell them you’re heading back to college from visiting your family, that your car packed up some three miles back. You also tell them you’re a beta. Two truths and a lie.

 They pull into a small gas station in Travis County called Cele Community Centre to fill up, while you step inside the sore to ask to use the phone. A middle-aged woman with cats-eye spectacles stands behind the counter, a couple of leather-clad bikers sitting at a table littered with beer bottles.

 The phone’s busted, but when you explain about your car, she offers a different option. Her brother’s got a tow truck – he could go pick up your car and bring it back for repair. It’s too good an offer to refuse, so you wave goodbye to the beta family and take a seat in the diner. The woman – Luda May Hewitt, she introduces herself – gives you a soda on the house and asks you about yourself. You tell her about your parents, your brother in the army, your little sister about to graduate high school. By the time her brother arrives – a unkempt, bespectacled man she calls Monty – you feel as though you’ve been talking to a matronly aunt for the past hour. She’s kind, with good old-fashioned Southern values, and so when she asks if you’d like to join them for supper, you accept. Monty says your car needs a new valve or something, which he has back at the homestead, so you hop in the cab of his truck next to Luda May.

 The Hewitt family home is a large farmhouse, with sprawling fields surrounding and a dilapidated garage. Monty parks up in the front yard and disappears, presumably to find the missing piece for your car. You shoulder your bag and follow Luda May inside the house. It’s not particularly clean, but your mother raised you to be polite, so you accept some sweet tea and some homemade biscuits.

 Shortly, another man appears in the kitchen – this one younger and more well-presented than Monty - who introduces himself as Sheriff Hoyt. A rough, brutish scent of alpha pheromones follows him through the door, but you know by instinct its not from him.

 “Tommy,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at a hulking figure beyond the doorway. “Come say hello to our guest.”

 The person who steps into the room has to be the largest man you’ve never seen. Not only is he tall – at least six and a half feet – but he’s also broad; wide shoulders, muscular arms, and a chest like a barrel. Despite the suppressants you’ve been careful to keep concealed in your bag, your glands tingle pleasantly as his scent washes over you. Your nose recognises earth, leather and sweat, but your finer-tuned olfactory senses catch hints of sandalwood, charcoal, and the unmistakable metallic tang of blood. You contribute this to the butcher’s apron he’s wearing tied around his thick waist – the dark brown stains a clear indication of animal slaughter. While this doesn’t exactly strike you as comforting, you can’t deny his scent is . . . appealing.

 You focus on his face for just a moment, not wanting to stare. His dark hair is long and wavy, most of his face concealed beneath a crude leather mask, revealing only his eyes, forehead and a small glimpse of chapped lips. The space where his nose would be beneath the mask is strangely flat, leading you to suspect some kind of physical deformity. His shadowed eyes catch yours and you look away in embarrassment.

 “This here’s Thomas, my boy,” Luda May says. “Tommy, meet Y/N.”

 “Hey,” you rise to your feet and hold out a hand. Even at your full height, you barely come up to his chest. “Nice to meet you, Thomas.”

 He doesn’t speak or move to shake your hand, but his right-hand fingers flex at his side, so you can tell he wants to. Moreover, you can smell it on him. The pheromones he’s giving off betray his interest, and your face flushes at the thought that such an impressive alpha’s attention is directed at you. Eventually, you lower your hand and return to your seat, taking a sip of tea to hide your awkwardness.

 “So,” Hoyt says, sitting down opposite you and placing his hat on the table. “Y/N, what are you?”

 You know what he’s trying to say, even if the question comes across as a little rude.

 “I’m a beta, sir,” you say.

 “Seems the whole dang state’s beta these days,” he says, leaning back and accepting a glass of tea from Luda May. “Tommy’s pretty much the only alpha ‘round these parts, and as for omegas, forget it.”

 Praying that your suppressants are doing their job, you nod along with his words and try not to focus on Thomas, who’s still standing like a full-door draft excluder in the corridor. You wonder if his senses are strong enough to tell that you’re lying. Surely if they were, he’d say something, wouldn’t he? Such a big strong alpha like him, wouldn’t be able to help himself.

 Big strong alpha . . .

 The thought makes you shiver slightly, and you notice Thomas shift where he stands. Covering your neck as casually as you can with one hand, you pretend to be intently interested in what Hoyt is saying. As he’s illustrating the hardships of being the county’s only sheriff, Monty appears, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

 “Well, hope you didn’t have nowhere to be anytime soon, ‘cause that tin can sure ain’t going without a new carburetor.”

 Your heart sinks – the car was a gift from your parents when you got into UT, and you’d taken good care of it since. How had it sustained so much damage without you realising?

 “D’you know where I can get a new one?”

 He blows his cheeks out. “Nowhere ‘round here. Next town, maybe; ‘bout twenty miles north.”

 You mentally count the small handful of notes folded in your wallet – your mom had given you $50 to get back to college, enough for fuel and food along the way, plus extra to stay in a motel. Certainly not enough for such a hefty repair.

 “Course,” Hoyt says, a strange smile playing at the corner of his lips, “Uncle Monty’d be more’n happy to drive through for one tomorrow, wouldn’t ya, Monty?”

 Monty nods slowly. “Be my pleasure.”

 A strange tension has fallen over the small room, setting the hairs on the back of your neck a-prickle. Hoyt’s eyes are burning into you with a fierce intensity, almost . . . hunger, Monty bearing a smile, too leery to be comforting. You’re wondering if you’ve made a mistake in coming here, when Thomas moves from the shadows, his scent passing over you. Your shoulders drop a little, his presence proving an inexplicable reassurance to you. You know it’s your hormones talking; with such an alpha nearby, you’re safe. It takes a nudge from the logical side of your brain to remind you that biology is not fact, and you could be very, very far from safe with these people.

 You clear your throat, mouth suddenly dry.

 “Well, that’s awful kind of you. Is there, um . . . a motel or something I could stay at tonight?”

 “Motel?” Luda May laughs. “Don’t be so silly, honey – you’ll stay here.”

 You turn to look at her, her warm, motherly gaze refilling some of the certainly draining from you. Maybe you’re just being paranoid. After all, you’re a young woman – an omega, no less – so it’s no wonder that Hoyt and Monty might act strangely around you, whether they realise it or not. As for Thomas, well . . .

 “I don’t want to be a bother, ma’am.”

 “Oh hush, you’re no bother at all, and call me Luda.” She takes an old apron from a hook on the wall and nods towards the door. “Tommy’ll show you to the spare room and then you can help me start dinner.”

 Thomas looks as surprised by the idea of being alone with you as you are, his gargantuan posture stiffening. His eyes flit from Luda May to you, unsure of what to do.  

 “Go on, boy, m’sure she don’t bite,” Hoyt chuckles.

 But does he? Your mind races as you lift your bag and follow Thomas from the kitchen. His heavy footsteps make the floorboards shake as he ascends the stairs, decidedly not looking anywhere in your direction. The room he takes you to is small, barely more than a box room, with a narrow cot bed, a chest of drawers, and a dirty sink built into the wall. The white ceramic has been long since hidden beneath a layer of brown grime, and the light from the window is filtered through what looks like years of dirt.

 You turn your head to thank Thomas, but the words die on your tongue when you see how close he is. His chest is heaving, and you suspect he’s . . . smelling you. Shit. You remember the mace your mom forced you to take with you, stowed safely away at the bottom of your pack. There’s no way you could get to it before he could grab you. He’s so big – his hands could easily encompass your entire head – you’re sure he could do irreparable damage without breaking so much as a sweat. His eyes – how had you not noticed how blue they are? – are fixed on you, all trace of shyness gone. You raise a hand – to do what, you’ve no idea – and stifle a shriek when he takes hold of your arm with surprising agility. Your blood stills as he lifts your wrist to his face, the air whistling through his nostrils beneath the mask as he breathes in your scent. He must know – there’s no way he can’t. He must either be the strongest alpha you’ve ever encountered, or on the brink of his rut, to detect your omega scent through your suppressants. Or both.

 Part of you wants to run, to scream for help, but you can’t; your legs won’t move.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, though you’re not entirely sure what you’re pleading for. Your eyes meet for one long, electrifying moment.

 “Tommy, get down here! We got trespassers!”

 Thomas drops your hand like it’s scalding hot, disappearing from the room and down the stairs after Hoyt’s harsh commands. You stand rooted to the spot, your heart beating a brand against your ribcage, and the bed creaks ominously beneath you as you drop down onto it. Fishing in your bag, you pull out the thin blister pack of pills, swallowing one dry. You have enough to get you safely back to Austin – you’ll just have to hope your stay here is a short one.

~

Comments are greatly appreciated because I’m a needy little trashbag.

#thomas hewitt #tommy hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt x reader #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher fics #slasher x reader #slasher x reader fanfiction #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #tcm the beginning #the texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #leatherface #leatherface x reader #slasher lover

[acapelladitty]

Mouth: Part Ten (nsfw)

Pairing: Heisenberg/Female Reader

Warnings: punishment, spanking, rough sex, dirty talk, cockwarming, come marking.

A bored mind makes stupid decisions and your decision to wind up the Lord of the factory as he worked on a fresh project within his main invention room fell into that category. Idle hands were most definitely the devil’s plaything and your devil of choice was pointedly ignoring you.

“Can I help with anything?” You ask, standing behind the metal chair which he preferred to work from as you whisper the question into his ear, ensuring that you are as close as possible without physically touching him. He’d been locked in this room for hours and it was about time for some distraction.

“No.”

“Would you like me to hold something for you?”

“No,” he repeated, twisting his head away from your lips as he focused on his task, “now fuck off, please.”

Unwilling to budge, you ignore his pointed tone.

“How about I make us something to eat?” You purr, moving forward so that you are kneeling to his side, keeping out of the direct path of his gaze, which was focused on the metal floating above his workbench, “A late night snack. Something,” you pause, “delicious.”

“Not right now.”

His voice was firm as his attention refused to leave the pieces of metal before his eyes as they bent into unnatural shapes at his whim. The metal looked red-hot in some areas as it was folded into various positions, slotting together before coming apart in rapid succession.

“Come on, my Lord,” the words are little more than a whine as you stand again and run a hand along the firm muscle of his thigh, “your subject requires your attention for a little while. It’s been so long since you’ve serviced her.”

As your finger moves to brush lightly against his crotch, a high-pitched squeal from the intricately woven floating cogs were the only indication that something had went wrong, even as a loud “Ah, fuck!” escaped his throat.

At his exclamation, the metal gears before him seemed to contract for a moment before exploding in place and, as you ducked away from the grating noise and bright light, a sharp pain registered against your hip as you recognised his open palm shoving at your body to remove you from the danger zone.

His impressive strength matched with his momentary panic proved too much for your body and you found yourself being thrown to the floor, your ass colliding against the hard stone making you release a loud grunt of pain as he stood up from his work seat.

Surveying the residual mess of his work, his lips pulled back to bare his teeth as he stomped his foot in open frustration. His coat flared behind him with the movement and you watch the fabric settle as his hands slam into his hips.

“A whole day of work, up in fucking smoke!”

Oops.

“All because of you and your goddamn hole!”

Ah, shit.

There was a genuine anger in his expression as he turned and approached your fallen body, the harshness of his gaze causing your heart to stutter for a moment as you froze like a rabbit caught in headlights. The smart thing would be to give him some space and scarper away but as his presence loomed over you, you knew that escaping was out of the question.

“Would it help if I said sorr-”

Your words were cut off in a sharp gasp as he moved quickly to scoop you up from the floor and hold you to his side with one arm as he moved back towards his work seat.

Dropping into his makeshift throne, he pins you to the floor between his thighs and your knees crash off the hard flooring uncomfortably as you gaze up at him. His eyes are covered by his glasses but you can sense the anger behind them and you attempt to look as apologetic as possible, hoping to avoid his wrath.

“I said I was sor-”

“No, shut the fuck up.” He cut you off once again, his hand coming to cover your mouth to prevent any further speech, “You’ve done it now, kitten. A whole day of wasted time and resources all because you wanted to play.” His tone was curt, irritation barely restrained, and it causes a fresh spark of anxiety within you, “Well, you have my attention now and I hope you’re happy with what you’ve earned.”

His fingers are warm against your mouth, and you slip your tongue out as much as possible to flick at them playfully. The damage was done but you knew how to appease him, and you shuffle your head forward and tilt your head towards his groin in a show of penance. He was not a man to deny himself a free blowjob and you were certain that would take the heat out of him for the moment.

“Nice try,” he growled, pulling at your hair to force your head back away from his crotch, “but that’s not going to work, buttercup. You have ruined my plans and no amount of head is going to get you out of this punishment.”

“Let’s see,” he hummed, one hand wrapped around your hair while the other traced soft lines across your exposed throat, “I’ve been in here since 6pm and it’s now midnight. That’s six hours. I will also need to source three new gears for this manipulation so let’s make that the multiplier.” His expression is thoughtful as he considers the math, “Brings us to eighteen so let’s round it to a solid twenty. Twenty strikes as a fair punishment”

Unable to speak, you allow your eyes to widen in recognition at his words.

“Think you can handle twenty strikes? Shall we find out?”

It has been a while since he’d reddened your skin in such a way and there were alternative punishments which you enjoyed much less so you nod your consent, the small movement making the burn in your scalp worse.

“Would the little slut like the switch or the palm?” He asked, releasing your mouth to allow you to answer. The switch, a thin metal bar he could fashion at a moment’s notice was much more painful than his hand and the fact that he was even giving you the option was a good sign, “Or should I choose for her?” He continued.

“The palm, my Lord.” You answer, eyes downcast in a show of penance as you throw in his title to sweeten the deal and play your role, “Your hand should be my punishment.”

“Good choice.” He grunted and you inhale in surprise as his hands grip your upper arms in a tight grasp so that he can lift you from your knees and place you over his knees.

Your stomach lay against his firm thighs as your feet plant themselves on the ground, giving yourself some purchase as he runs his hands up your bare legs. A shudder trails down your spine at the softness of his touch, knowing what it was a prelude to, and you press your thighs together as his commanding voice booms out from above you.

“Place your hands on the legs of the chair and if you let go I’ll double your punishment.”

You follow his command, wrapping your palms around the thick metal of the chair legs and you can feel the blood rushing to your ears as your head remains upside down. Your breasts hung free just past the edge of his thighs but they remain covered by the shirt which still clung to your upper half as you settled yourself as comfortably as you could against him.

The warm air of the room hit your exposed lower half as your skirt was pulled up over your ass. His hand felt huge against your skin as he immediately palmed your ass roughly through your panties, calloused fingers running along the globe of your ass to admire it before the real fun began. A soft whoosh of movement caught your attention and you tilt you head in time to see his hand grasp around the hilt of his knife and a thrill of nervous anticipation rockets through you.

Before you can question its use, you feel the dull edge of the blade against your hip as the sharp edge sliced through the thin fabric of your panties before moving to the other side to repeat the process. With a flourish, he drops the knife to the floor and rips your underwear from you, the aggressive pull leaving a warmth in its wake as it dragged across your trapped skin.

Now fully exposed, you can do little but keep your hands clasped around the legs of his metal throne as you await his next move.

“Count for me.” He demands, his voice rough with undeniable lust as he adjusts his knees to bear your weight comfortably, “And if you fuck up the count then I start over. Understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

The slight whisper of air as his hand draws through the air is the only indication you have that he’s started as he targets the exposed curve of your ass.

SMACK.

A grunt escapes you at the impact; it was painful but not unbearable as he was obviously trying to gauge holding back his impressive strength since a full-power hit would probably do some irreparable damage. Regardless, you hold your position steadily as your fingers remain clasped around the metal chair.

“One.”

SMACK.

Stronger than the first, the blow takes the breath from you as you jerk in place. Positioned in the same spot as the first, you can already feel the growing heat from your ass as the second smack only adds a fresh sting to the underlying discomfort.

“Two.”

“Good girl.” He grunts, pausing in his blows to run the tips of his fingers along your slit and you’re ashamed at the slickness there after only two smacks but your soft sigh turns into a quick inhalation as he swats at your cunt roughly, encouraging you to spread your thighs, “Are you ready to scream for me, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before his hand once again connects harshly with your ass, the heat there barely dulling before it was inflamed again and, even as the blow pulls a pained gasp from your lips, you push your ass out to meet him, encouraging him.

“Three.”

Building into a steady rhythm, he continues to decorate your ass with patches of red as his hand abuses the flesh there. Groans and sharp squeals are all you can manage between counted numbers as the pain grew more apparent with every hit; the flesh growing more irritated as it continued to be assaulted without pause.

Continuing your count as each new smack sent fresh waves of heat across your ass, you let out a high squeal of surprise as he angles his hand downwards for one hit, the tips of his fingers catching the edge of your cunt as you stiffen in place.

“Thirteen!”

The pain in your flesh, the sting and heat which only grew with every hit, was intense but with it came an undeniable pleasure which coated your thighs with your own juices and made your core ache for stimulation. Every harsh-sounding slap was intercut with your own sharp yelps and needy whines as he alternated random strikes by pausing to grope roughly at your stinging flesh, kneading it between savage fingers to test the sensitivity.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your side as you remain in your prone position. Soft grunts escaped his own throat with every blow and were occasionally punctuated by soft mutterings which were too low to be picked up.

One particularly harsh blow catches you across the globes of your ass and fresh tears spring into your eyes as you give a pained yelp. The pain overshadowed the pleasure as the unyielding sting of your flesh and infernal heat seemed to spread across your body, making your limbs tight and your fingers claw against the metal of the chair leg.

“Nineteen.”

“One more, kitten.” He informed you, his hand coming to rest atop the back of your head as he pulled your head back, surveying the pained look in your expression.

SMACK.

Squeezing your eyes closed as his hand once again struck the searing skin of your ass, which you could guess was a stunning shade of red given the heat you could feel, you cry out the final number.

“Twenty!”

Having served your punishment, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist and pluck you from his lap as he deposited you in your earlier position between his thighs. Your heels dug in painfully to the heated flesh of your ass and you whine at the rough contact as he takes your face within his hands; the heat from his left hand, the hand used to punish you, clear against your cheek.

“Well done,” he drawled, and you can see that most of his anger has dissipated, replaced with a strange mixture of pride and obvious lust, “but we’re not over just yet.”

His hands are quick to unzip his fly as he pulls free his cock, the length looking painfully hard as it juts free of his opened slacks, and he pauses to give it a leisurely stroke.

Releasing himself, he secures his hands around your upper arms and pulls you up into his lap so that the length of his cock is resting against the cleft of your core as he wraps an arm around your waist. The pressure of his groin against your abused ass is uncomfortable but bearable as you lean forward slightly to take the pressure off.

“I’m going to fuck you, kitten,” his voice is rough and low, “and I’m going to do it right here in my work chair. This is the second part of your punishment.”

Not quite seeing the negative here, you nod demurely just to play into his game.

“Of course, my Lord.”

His hand slips into the space between you as he cups your mound.

“Tell me what hole you want me to use,” he growls in your ear as two of his fingers glide across your slit before sinking knuckle-deep within you, “and I’m not going easy so make sure you choose wisely and tell me why. You need to earn your forgiveness and I want to make sure you feel it.”

“My cunt,” you gasp out your choice, pressing down on his fingers as they probe you roughly, your body delighted at finally receiving some stimulation, “your thick cock forces me to stretch around it and it hurts.”

Only partially true but you know it’s what he wants to hear.

He removes his fingers and uses his hand to brush his cock against your slit, wetting his tip with your juices as he prepares to enter you and a shiver runs down your spine with anticipation.

You don’t have long to wait as he impales himself within you with an animalistic grunt; the unexpected fullness and force of his insertion as he buries himself fully drawing a low scream of pained pleasure from your lips.

Making no effort to move just yet, his free hand comes to clutch at the fabric of your shirt, tearing the buttons there with one swift movement and exposing your chest to his leering gaze as he pushes the torn fabric to the side.

Capturing your nipple between his teeth, the worries the sensitive nub there for a moment and the sensation is so intense that your fingers snake through his grey hair and pull at it almost desperately. A move which earns you a low growl as he repeats the move with your other nipple, clearing enjoying the sensation of being sheathed within you as he torments your chest.

He begins to move within you, using his strength to pull you free of him until only the tip of his cock remains inside before plunging within you once again. It’s pleasure and pain rolled into one as the stretch mixes with the wonderful sensations of his cock brushing your most sensitive spots and you whine out your anguish.

Writhing against him, the pressure of his thrusts is almost too much as it feels like he is trying to split you in half with his cock. Every nerve within you is firing off and your legs hang limply to the sides of the chair, toes curling with every powerful stroke, as you allow yourself to be used. His hands on your hips prevent you from moving too much but you push back against him as much as possible, movements frantic as the burn in your ass only adds to the growing pleasure alighting across your body.

Rough growls are the only noises coming from him and they mingle with the whines and moans which you can’t prevent from escaping your own throat. Particularly when he resumes his assault on your chest, his stubble rubbing against your breasts as he nips savagely at the sensitive flesh there with sharp teeth, his cock never slowing in its brutal pace.

Your orgasm almost catches you off-guard as one of his fingers come to rest against your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves there with an almost cruel pressure. Combined with the delightful stretch of your core plus the torment of your chest, it was too much and your vision seemed to white out for a moment as the band of arousal snapped; your hips snapping against his groin as your fingers clawed desperately at the leather of his coat which covered his back.

“I love it when you buck against me, kitten.” He snarled against your neck as he continued to thrust within you, chasing his own pleasure with little regard for how overstimulated it left you, “So wet and warm, and so fucking tight just for me.”

A garbled sequence of agreements is all you can manage as your body spasmed against his, his cock continuing to draw out your pleasure far beyond what it had to as the waves of ecstasy seemed unending. But even through your euphoria, you can feel the tell-tale jerking of his cock as it seemed to twitch within your walls and you knew he was close.

Just at the point of no return, he pulled his cock free of your core and the sudden emptiness drew a mournful wail from your lips as he instead drew his hand across his cock frantically. It took less than a moment before his orgasm hit, his release arcing high between you as it splattered across your exposed stomach and chest; one drop catching you just above your right nipple as he released a low, guttural groan at the sight.

Your legs were still twitching from the aftershocks and the burn in your ass seemed more intense than before, obviously disturbed by your writhing against his groin, as you fought to catch your breath.

A gasp stole your breath as you felt his fingers against your core once again but before you could question him, you felt him slip within you once again, his cock still hard but having wilted slightly due to his release.

At your questioning glance, he spoke.

“You’re going to wear those trophies until I say otherwise,” he growled as he indicated the mess of his release, spattered across your chest, “and if you touch them I’ll bind your hands to this chair until I am finished.”

“Finished?” You ask, not quite understanding his intent. His cock was welcome within you and you couldn’t help but clench around it as you once again enjoyed the fullness.

“I need to work,” his grunt was low and, with a flick of his hand, a handful of scrap rose from behind his chair and moved towards his workbench, “and since you can’t be trusted to not interrupt then you can stay here. Exactly where I can see and feel you.”

Thinking of your earlier boredom, you can see the appeal in his command and you nod your consent.

“Think of it as serving your Lord by keeping his cock nice and warm while he works.”

Leaning forward, you lay your head against the wide expanse of his shoulder as you settle against his body. Your body feels wonderfully used and abused and this position allows you to take the pressure off you ass while also providing a very comfortable resting place. His cock within you doesn’t move and you don’t imagine it’ll be too long before he gives in to the temptation of another round.

“Sounds good to me.”

He chuckles at the enthusiasm and settles into his task.

His attention is focused beyond you, on the metal which he manipulates with unmatched skill, but with every slight jostle of your bodies you can feel the fullness of his cock as it remains sheathed within you. His punishment had been fair and you knew that the sight of your reddened flesh would inspire him to lust for days until it healed up.

He loved leaving his little marks on you, be it with his hands, teeth, or even his cum. It was a sign of ownership that you allowed; just as he allowed you to claw your ownership into his back or bite it into the flesh of his chest and thighs. It was important that you gave as good as you got as neither of you could stand weakness.

Your thoughts were broken as a soft humming emitted from his chest, some unknown tune which you couldn’t place, and you sighed against him, settling in to the rare moment of pure intimacy.

Full fic available on AO3 @ DittyWrites

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