#how am i supposed to get a degree like this if i want to throw up after i get home from lectures. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesbabygirlx · 22 days ago

Text

I Love Him Though

Masterlist

Toxic Rafe x Kook Reader

Contents: NONCON/DUBCON, smut, breeding kink, oral (m+f receiving) name callings turns into pet name calling, daddy kink, degradation, physical abuse mentions. Unsuccessful offering (prostitution) Rafe is back and forth with emotions. Ward is dead but I still picture curtain bangs S2 Rafe when he’s ’toxic.’ That should be everything.

Not read over

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: someone let me know if I’m using warnings right. Please also I’m working in better dialogue and hope it’s improving. :)

You were the quintessential heiress princess, born into OBX’s most prominent family. The youngest of four brothers and your parents’ only daughter, you just graduated from USC in California with a business degree and returned to the island, stepping into the role of Chief Operations Officer, second only to your father. Your beauty was legendary on Figure Eight—admired by girls and desired by boys.

Alongside you was your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron—handsome, irresistible, and undeniably complicated. He went to UCLA for business. Not his first choice but he’d be damned to let you be across the country on your own. You started dating sophomore year, and despite the ups and downs, you stayed together, much to your parents’ dismay. They had warned you about the Cameron family, especially Rafe’s drug and anger issues. But the relationship felt like the one thing that was truly yours, and you didn’t care.

Not when he slapped you in front of your friends. Not when he tried to offer you to Barry as payback for a debt. (Thankfully, Barry had some decency.) Not even when he ruined a family dinner, barging in during a coke-fueled rage. You excused yourself to take care of him, understanding that it always came back to his issues with his father. This all happened during his downward spiral and issues with the Pogues. All this you heard from Sarah and not the supposed love of your life and yet you still stayed. None of these behaviors changing in LA at school.

You thought Rafe would change after his dad passed—become softer, more loving, and respectful. Instead, it pushed him deeper into anger and bitterness. While you thrived at work, earning the admiration of your family and employees, Rafe’s messages grew increasingly hostile throughout the day. You couldn’t understand how he had the time for this, given that he had taken over his father’s company. But not shocked how he just rode through it without care.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe 8:50 AM: “Hey, are we getting dinner tonight?”

Rafe 12:00 PM: “Are you fucking kidding me? Three hours?!”

12:30 PM: 7 missed calls from Rafe.

Rafe 2:00 PM: “Why do I even bother with a stupid bitch like you? I could fuck anyone I want.”

You 2:05 PM: “We’re still on for dinner. Jesus Christ, Rafe, I’ve been in meetings since 7:30 AM. Do you not have anything better to do?”

Rafe 4:00 PM: “You’re questioning me about what I do? I work hard to keep my dad’s legacy alive while you probably have your daddy’s help. You’re pathetic, and I should slap some sense into you.”

Rafe 5:00 PM: “What time are you gonna be home?”

You 5:05 PM: “Six.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Moments like these, unfortunately frequent, made you regret ever giving Rafe a key to your apartment. Even after all this time, you refused to move in with him at Tannyhill. You loved him, but the thought of living together was unbearable until he got his issues under control.

As expected, when you arrived home, Rafe was already in your kitchen. You didn’t even have a chance to put your bags down before he started. “What the fuck is your problem?!” His face was red, fists clenched.

“Rafe, I’m not doing this. I work—I actually work—and you harassing me all day with your bullshit is no—”

Before you could finish, he slapped you, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. Your mind spun as your face burned from the sting.

Rafe's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. You tried to struggle against him, but he was too strong, pinning you down with ease. His grip on your throat tightened, and you felt the sting of his words as he spat, "You wouldn't have to be treated like such a whore if you weren't such a bitch with a mouth on you."

“Fuck you Rafe, get off of me!” Your protests fell on deaf ears as Rafe's grip only tightened, his voice low and menacing. "Go ahead, finish telling me what you think," he growled, his teeth bared in a snarl. He dragged you up the bed, your head hitting the headboard with a thud, before climbing over you and trapping your arms beneath his knees. “Just be a good girl for me. Alright?”

His hand stroked his hardened length, the tip brushing against your lips as he smeared precum across your mouth. You tried to resist, but Rafe's anger only escalated. "Fine, I guess we can do this the hard way," he sneered, his grip on your throat becoming a vice.

You struggled for breath as Rafe's hand closed around your throat, his grip tightening until you could barely gasp for air. Just as you thought you would suffocate, Rafe thrust himself inside you, his hands gripping your hair as he pumped furiously. He didn't care about your comfort or your well-being; all that mattered was his pleasure and your punishment.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You were suffocating, your airway constricted by Rafe's girth and your own helplessness. His cock felt like a vice around your throat, choking the life out of you as he thrust deeper, his grunts echoing in your ears. "Open up and look at me, let me know who your daddy is," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

You struggled to open your eyes, but the discomfort was too much, and tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. Rafe yanked your hair, the pain searing through you, and slapped you hard across the cheek. "LOOK!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

You complied, your eyes watering as you gazed up at him, your vision a blurry mess. Rafe's eyes lit up with perverse pleasure. "Yeah, there are those pretty eyes, my pretty fucking slut looks so good choking on me," he crooned, his voice dripping with sick satisfaction.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic, his cock slipping in and out of your throat with a wet, slapping sound. Drool pooled at your chin, his balls slapping it making the drool drip down to your chest as you struggled to breathe. Your body felt numb, your mind foggy with pain and fear.

Rafe didn't seem to care, lost in his own pleasure and power trip. He gripped your hair tighter, his hips bucking wildly as he continued to thrust, his cock jamming deeper into your throat. The pain was unbearable, but you knew that stopping would only make it worse.

And so you lay there, trapped beneath him, your throat ravaged by his cock, your body broken and bruised, as Rafe continued to throat fuck you like an animal, his pleasure the only thing that mattered. Finally with one final thrust he came down your throat. The warm liquid somewhat soothing the sting of pain that’s there.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

He moves back to in between your thighs and his hands gripping your hips. Your arms now rushing with blood again are limp next to your body, no feeling to them and Rafe sat on them for what felt like an eternity. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you try to push him away, but he holds you firmly in place. "Please, Rafe, stop," you beg, tears streaming down your face. He ignores your pleas, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and lust.

He kneels there, not moving. You sit up to look at him better through tears as you cry. His hands still grip your hips tightly, holding you in place. You try to wriggle free, but he doesn't budge. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your skin as he glares at you. You just want him away from you.

"You're mine," he says, his voice low and threatening. "You'll learn to stay in line." He doesn't move, just sits there, his body a heavy burden on yours. You're trapped, unable to escape his grip or his gaze. He hands you his undershirt to wipe your face of the drool and tears. You just cry into it.

The silence is oppressive, the air thick with tension. You sob quietly, trying to break free, but he holds you firm. Time seems to stand still as you lie there, helpless in front him. His eyes never leave you.

He finally breaks the heavy silence, his voice low and hesitant. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I love you so much, and I don’t want to be without you, but sometimes you need to learn your lesson.”

Tears stream down your face as you clutch his shirt, your voice trembling as you respond, “Rafe, I can’t do this anymore. You’re possessive, overbearing… and it scares me. Why can’t you understand that?” Your voice cracks, the words carrying years of frustration and fear.

He brushes off your plea, offering a half-hearted, “I know, I know. Let me make it up to you, show you I care.” His eyes are distant, his apology empty. He doesn’t understand. He never really listens, and deep down, you know he’s counting on you not doing anything about it.

Without acknowledging the depth of your pain, he lifts your chin and kisses you—deep, consuming, as if that alone could erase everything. His hands move with practiced ease, guiding you back onto the bed. His lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses, sucking in your nipples, down your stomach and to your thighs, but the tenderness feels misplaced, hollow.

His thumb starts tracing gentle circles on your clit, while the rest of you is screaming, begging for him to stop. But the weight of his presence, the years of manipulation, pin you down as surely as his body does. He peels your panties off, his breath hot against your skin as he licks up your cunt, but it all feels wrong. It feels wrong but you can’t help but moan.

He begins to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. You're telling yourself no, but all you can get out are moans when you buck your hips up into him. He keeps working, sucking and licking at your pussy as he slides two fingers into you. "Oh my god, Rafe, right there," you force out between pants, your body trembling with pleasure. He looks up at you, a wicked smile on his face as he takes in your contorted expression. He loves this power he holds over you, and you can't help but be consumed by it.

Finally, he releases his fingers and mouth from you, climbing over you like a predator stalking its prey. He stares down at you, his eyes burning with desire, and you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. For a second, he doesn't look like the evil man that terrifies you. "I want you to be happy, to be loved," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Can we please be happy together, no more of these crazy ways?" You ask. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, and without saying another word, he lines himself up and thrusts into you, hard and fast. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel like you're being consumed by him, body and soul.

His pace is relentless, your body shuddering beneath him as he pounds into you. Your eyes roll back in your head, but he grabs your chin, pulling your gaze back to his. "Look at me, baby, look at who does this for you," he growls, his voice low and demanding.

You obey, staring into his eyes as he continues to fuck you. "No one can make you feel this good," he says, his fingers digging into your hips. "This pussy was made for me, I should fill you up and get you pregnant. What would your parents say if I knocked you up, huh? I know they hate me, hate who I am. But you love me, I know you do. Ugh, you wouldn't be clenching me like this if you didn't."

You don't reply, your eyes locked onto his as he continues to thrust into you. You know he's right; you'd love to have a family with Rafe, to feel him inside you, to know that he's the one who made you pregnant. "Tell me who you belong to," he demands, his fingers pinching your clit.

"You... I belong to you daddy," you whimper, your body trembling with pleasure. "I'm all yours."

"That's right, baby," he says, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. "When you listen, you get a reward." You lift your right leg over his shoulder knowing you’d get him at the perfect angle to hit your G-spot.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you cry out, your body arching off the bed. "Keep going."

He grins, his eyes burning with desire. "Me too, sweet girl," he says, thrusting harder. "Tell me where you want me. You want what I said? To fill you up, get you pregnant?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan out a lie, your body convulsing around him. "Fuck, fill me up."

He groans, you cum hard and he follows suit. His eyes rolling back as he cums deep inside you. He stays like that for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip from you. Then he’s sticking a finger inside shoving the cum back in. "Gotta make sure it sticks, mama," he says, using the endearment that makes you shudder. He confuses it as a good one.

He leans down and kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth as he holds you close. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling with passion. You know that this is just the beginning, that Rafe will keep pushing you, keep taking you to new heights.

“Y’know I love you right?” All you can do is nod.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You’re trapped between what you want to feel and what you know—caught in a cycle you’re terrified to break.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Rafe pulls away and silently rises from the bed. You lie there, motionless, feeling broken, battered, and emotionally drained as his absence fills the room. Curled up on your side, you stare at the wall, your mind numb, listening to the sound of him turning on the shower. The water runs, but it does nothing to drown out the hollow ache settling in your chest.

This has become your reality—a constant 360 with Rafe, a never-ending cycle of hurt, apologies, and hollow promises. Round and round, you go, lost in this whirlwind of love, control, and regret. You loved him once, loved him deeply, and you still find yourself missing the boy he used to be. The one who made you laugh, who held you like you were the only thing that mattered. But that boy feels like a distant memory now, replaced by someone who uses love as a weapon.

You convince yourself that he must love you—he has to. Why else would he want you to feel this way? He wouldn’t go to such lengths to make you feel good if he didn’t care, right? It’s a lie you tell yourself over and over, a story that comforts you even when the truth is painfully clear. You know it’s a manipulation tactic, one he’s used time and time again, but it works every time.

And you let it work because the idea of leaving, of being without him, despite your parents pleas, is scarier than staying trapped in this vicious circle.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x kook!reader #toxic rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #my works ✨

170 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 9 months ago

Text

the overachiever * fem!driver

she's just a little competitive, that's all

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: YAUUUR i'm back with em femdriver updates dawg

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

oscar leans to the side as he avoids the ball hurled at him at seemingly an alarming rate — could have possibly taken his head off if he hadn’t moved fast enough — then turns back to the pair on the other side of the court. “oi!”

“loser!” she pumps her fist in the air and hops over to her teammate on her side of the court, hand lifted for a high-5. “do better.”

oscar rests a hand on his hip, chest heaving as he whirls around to where the ball had bounced to. “this was supposed to be a chill game. what is your problem?”

liam laughs, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back. he catches the girl’s hand and nods. “sore losers, aren’t they?”

“isn’t this your first time playing padel?” logan scowls. “how are you already so good at it?”

she shrugs as she puts her racket between her legs, readjusting her ponytail. “you know i can’t stand when i’m bad at things. of course, i prepared myself for today.”

when oscar had invited them out for a game of padel, he had expected it to be a first out of many short games. what nobody had expected, though, is for the girl — who claimed to know nothing of the sport just a week ago — to be absolutely dominating them on the court.

there is a reason they hadn’t invited the rest of their friends or anyone else from the grid. they just wanted to slowly take their time to learn the ropes of the game so that when the season goes underway, they don’t embarrass themselves when they get invited to games by other drivers.

but of course, the overachiever did her research and is already excelling to a certain extent. it’s just something they’d had to endure over the years: her in-explainable need to be good at everything immediately. if she’s not good at it from the get-go, she loses interest quickly.

“how? how could you have possibly prepared yourself for a game of padel? you didn’t even have a racket until 3 days ago,” logan scolds, throwing his arms in the air as the frustration slowly gets to him. there’s just something about her beating him in absolutely everything that’s sort of absurd. “i was literally with you when we went to get your stupid racket!”

“there’s this thing called youtube?” she hums with an eyebrow raised with the roll of her eyes. “and i asked fernando for some tips. so i’m kind of… like… a pro.”

“doesn’t make you a pro,” oscar scowls with a frown as he shakes his head. “makes you a bit of a nerd, though.”

“well i am graduating with a degree in information technology in a couple of months. so, perhaps, i could be a nerd,” she hums, with a giddy grin, “at least if the whole racing thing doesn’t work out… i have a way out. unlike you dropouts!”

“a woman in stem!” liam cheers. “if you graduate first class, i’ll buy you a car. what’s your current grades?”

she presses her lips together, nodding as she tries to formulate a plan for her education. “if i study harder for my final exam in a week, i could make that happen. i’m a pretty solid b grade student.”

“i meant a toy car, you freak,” liam frowns, scowling at her. “you think i’m getting paid loads as a reserve driver?”

“i overheard the team discussing you the other afternoon. who knows? we very well may be teammates next year.”

“i sure hope not,” logan butts in with a snort. “that wouldn’t do anyone any good — two idiots in the same team.”

she tilts her head, blinking innocently at him. “what do you mean? williams seems to be doing great with that kind of lineup this year.”

logan clenches his jaw, puckering his lips as he looks at her. “okay.”

“enough fighting,” oscar rolls his eyes. “ready to lose again, logan?”

the american sighs. “yeah, i guess.”

“god, don’t you know what a demonstration means?” max clutches his stomach, hunching over as the pain shoots through his torso. he watches the ball slowly bounce on the ground, right after hitting him in the stomach.

beside her, penelope giggles as she approaches max in concern. “are you okay, maxie?”

max shakes his head, glancing at the young child before dropping to his knees as he groans. “no, p. she bullied me!”

“she’s so strong!” penelope cheers, hopping over to the older girl with a screechy giggle. “but you should say sorry, maybe!”

“you’re right,” she grins, patting penelope on the head. “i’m sorry, max.” she leans down to max’s ear out of penelope’s hearing range. “that you got outplayed by a girl.”

max lifts his head to glare at her. they were just teaching penelope how to play football, the older girl describing earlier how to score effectively after she expressed interest in the sport. when she was asked to demonstrate the move, max didn’t expect her to kick the ball so hard.

“i knew that was coming. you’re so harsh!”

he was expecting a semi-strong kick to his stomach — something that he could catch and bear before they continued their small game of football. but no, she kicked the ball as hard as she could and almost incapacitated him.

though, perhaps incapacitated is too strong of a word. but he still does feel it in his gut, stumbling back in confusion when the ball came into contact with him.

can he really blame her, though? he sort of gets it: the need to be good at everything to please people. maybe it’s the eldest sibling trait.

“i was in varsity when i was in primary school,” she presses her lips together with a small smile. she holds her arms out to the younger girl and gestures towards her parent’s house. “i could get blythe to make us orange juice, p. do you want some?”

she sighs and drops her hands. “you can do better than that.”

logan drops his stance, his hands resting by the side of his body. “what do you mean? i don’t want to hit you so hard.”

“why? it’s not our first time sparring,” she scowls, wiping the side of her face on the sleeve of her shirt. she lifts her hands again, inside a pair of boxing gloves, and protects her face. “come on. hit me like you mean it.”

“i’m not going to hit you,” logan mutters. “we’re just warming up until benny and noah get here, right? that’s what you said.”

“yeah, but,” she darts a hand out, barely missing logan’s face when he leans back to avoid her punch, “i want a real challenge before they get here. come on, logan.”

but logan doesn’t fight back. instead, he takes several steps back when she tries to approach him, both arms darting out in an attempt to rile him up into a real spar.

“stop trying. i’m not doing this with you,” logan sighs, touching gloves with her everytime she tries to reach forward for him. “i know you were in martial arts growing up too, but i wasn’t. i’m just here because you asked me to be here.”

she grins. “exactly. so, fight back. don’t be a coward.”

“you’re not going to rile me up into a fight. i’m not you.”

“it works sometimes.” she dips down slightly and throws a punch into his stomach, prompting a huff as it hits him. “hit me back.”

“no way. stop asking me to do that.”

“coward.”

“okay.”

she touches his thigh with her feet, the taller boy stumbling slightly. “you’re just gonna let me do that to you? do something.”

“you’re not gonna get anything out of him.” a familiar voice makes both of you turn your head towards the door, benny walking in with a small smile and a gym bag over his shoulder. “very patient, this guy.”

“you clearly did not live in the same house as him for years,” she laughs, running over with her arms opens to get a hug. “will you spar with me until noah gets here? logan is so boring — he never hits me back.”

“hey!”

“sure! but you can’t cry when you lose.”

“maybe.”

sebastian tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “are you sure go-karting is what you wanna do over summer break? don’t you have other things to do?”

“we’ve done everything she wants to do,” oscar says begrudgingly as he puts his helmet on. “she cried this morning saying she misses racing.”

logan also looks tiredly at sebastian, shaking his head as he takes his helmet out of his bag. “i woke up to her sleeping on the couch hugging her helmet, by the way.”

the girl scoffs, punching logan’s arm as he unveils a secret he was sworn to never say to anybody else just this afternoon. “no, i was not!”

“ah, don’t be so shy about it,” sebastian smiles. “i also felt like that in my rookie year. all i could think of was being out on the track.”

“i guess i could study for my exams.” she exchanges glances with the 3 men around her before shrugging. “oh, well. time to race and beat your asses.”

“oh? you think you could be a 4-time world champion?” sebastian raises his eyebrows. “i’d like to see you try.”

“you clearly haven’t met me,” she hums, stopping in her track to turn around and face sebastian. she holds a hand out between them. “hi, i’m the most competitive girl you’ll ever meet. and i will beat you at go-karting today.”

while that doesn’t actually happen that evening, sebastian laughed as he climbed out of his go-kart at the end of their 10-minute race. she swears to him that someday she will be good enough to beat him in equal machinery (a go-kart).

which oscar begs to argue that she’s simply overdramatising the situation. but she just knows it’ll happen eventually.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #liam lawson x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

784 notes · View notes

taytrashmouth · 1 year ago

Note

hello lovely!! would u consider writing a peeta x reader, where ur both in the quarter quell, but reader is separated from peeta from the start and goes through mutt attacks/blood rain/jabberjays by herself and when peeta and the group find her on the beach she is injured and traumatised. hurt/comfort, where he looks after her afterwards and comforts her, washes her in the water and stuff? loooads of gentle comfort and fluff. sorry for my bad english!!

Okay I am absolutely obsessed with this request!!!! Omg can’t wait for you to read this!!! Ahhhh! Okay okay I hope you love it 😊

Peeta x reader

(Catching fire)

Requests are open so don’t forget to send them in!!!! Prompts under my profile!

:readmore:

When you woke up the morning of the games in Peetas arms you somehow felt safe. It was like you weren’t being sent to die that day. He kissed your head and told you he’d be by your side.

You had dreamt about the last games, how you were separated and the only reason you survived was because he became allies with those horrible kids from 1 & 2

When you eventually found each other, all you did was help Peeta get better, applied the ointment and comforted him. He did all the killing, he saved you.

You only survived the first half by dumb luck, that spear was supposed to hit you…not Rue. If only you hadn’t moved out the way.

The whole lovers idea was Peetas too, only it was true. Deep down you both knew you’d liked each other since kindergarten back in 12

But here you were in the little glass tube that sucked you straight into hell. You felt sick but you really wanted to throw up when you couldn’t see Peeta.

“Peeta!” You screamed as the countdown started. Sweating and getting panicked. You couldn’t do this again, not without him. You had a deal: stay together.

The games had begun. You needed a weapon. You jumped off the platform into the water swimming for the weapons.

Once you found your feet at the cornucopia, you began to hear screams and watched people start to fall. You grabbed a machete and ran for the jungle on one of the thin arms of rock.

“Peeta!” You screamed from the beach. But no answer. That was when a knife flew past your head and missed by an inch.

You couldn’t kill somebody. So you ran.

You shoved past trees and vines running deep into the jungle.

You found a spot hollowed out under a tree. It was hot- and you needed water.

That was when you heard his voice. Peeta.

You screamed for him as you ran towards the sound.

“Help n/n!” He yelled.

“Where are you!?” You frantically turned around. “Peeta?”

That was until his voice became overwhelming. Your ears started to ring. His cried for help, his screams.

You began to cry, realising this was some cruel trick of the capitol. “STOP IT!” You yelled, throat raw. You screamed as loud as you could covering your ears to get it to stop but it didn’t help. It was overwhelming. You tried to run but a forcefield locked you in. You screamed and banged on it but nothing worked.

You grabbed your machete and banged at the field but it just ricocheted.

You sunk to the floor, covering your ears and cried. You were there for what felt like a decade but was probably only an hour.

When his cries suddenly stopped you felt a strange sense of sadness. The screaming had been awful but you were worried about him. What if he was dead.

You began to walk deeper into the jungle, sweating and with tear stained cheeks. You had never been so thirsty before, after screaming so loudly in what felt like 100 degree heat.

As desperate as you were you stumbled across a little pool of water. You smiled dryly and lay on the floor, drinking out of the pool. A sigh escaped your mouth as you quenched your thirst. You splashed your face. And sat up leaning against a nearby tree.

This is where you would sleep. You gathered sticks and placed them in a circle around the area, to ensure that if someone walked by you would hear them.

The music began to play, you looked up at the sky, holding your pin. Praying you wouldn’t see Peetas face. You didn’t. Relief washed over you as the final canon went off.

You barely slept when you felt a warm air hitting your face, as your eyes opened you were greeted with a large mutt, two inches from your face.

You took a shocked, shaky breath in and slowly reached for your machete. It belted a loud noise sending a signal to the rest of his friends.

You closed your eyes as you wedged the sharp end of your blade into the mutt in-front of you.

You pulled the machete out of its body and stood up. Swinging at any that got a little to close. Just as one of the beasts began to jump at you, you decided the best option was to throw the machete and run.

As the mutt jumped and you released your blade, the woman from 6 who had been hiding in the trees tried to save you. And the machete hit her instead. A scream escaped your lips. You had killed someone.

You covered your mouth with your hands, shaky breaths escaping your lips. “No!” You sobbed.

You bent down to try help her, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry.” You cried as she became limp.

You held her to your chest in the hopes it would cause a miracle.

Soon you noticed the mutts had began to run as a white smoked reached the edge of the water, you stood up, knowing something was coming.

One of their claws ripped the back of your calf open as it ran away. “Shit!” You fell into the smoke, immediately screaming and running.

The sun had started to rise, and you were limping with an excruciating pain in your arms and legs with growing boils from the poison.

You screamed as you ran not caring about attracting other tributes. The sun has begun to rise, and you were now an easy target.

You ran through the jungle searching desperately for the beach but it was so overgrown you had no way of knowing.

You stopped in a small clearing. Crying and sitting in the dirt. Desperately wanting to rid yourself of the boils.

After a while of crying A cool liquid hit your face. Rain. You looked up at the sky, hoping the water would help your sores. Opening your mouth to quench your thirst.

It was definitely not water. You gagged. Spitting onto the dirt. Blood.

You sobbed and ran wherever you could and tripped over a log of wood. Tumbling onto the sand of the beach.

You screamed and cried. Not knowing what to do. You hated the capitol. You hated that you didn’t know where Peeta was. You hated this. You hated that you had to die.

Just then you heard voices. You put a hand over your mouth trying to quiet your whimpers.

Tears running down your face. You couldn’t run anymore. This was it.

You shuffled back, trying to find and escape route but there wasn’t one.

You got on all fours and crawled on the sand, dragging your leg with a gash in it in the sand.

You let out chokes of pain and self pity as they grew closer, you refused to look.

“N/n!” You heard him…peeta. “Oh my god it’s y/n!!!”

You screamed and covered your ears lying in the sand. You would rather die than listen to the jabberjays again. Until someone rolled you onto your back and you were met with Peeta.

He looked so scared for you. You immediately started to cry as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “You weren’t real.” You sobbed into his chest, feeling his hair, his back, anything to make sure he was there.

“I’m real now. I’m here now.” He kissed your forehead and held you again. Until you hissed when he touched your boils.

“Oh shit! I had them too see-“ he showed you the faint scars on his hands.

“I need to get freshwater.” He began to get up but you held onto his hand. “Don’t leave” you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment too long, his eyes laced with concern.

“Finnick! I need water.” Peeta yelled at the group that was a safe distance away.

While you waited, Peeta brushed hair out of your eyes that was covered in blood and sand, just like the rest of you and you squeezed his arm in pain.

“It’s okay.” He kept repeating. Kissing your head despite your state.

When finnick returned Peeta poured water all over your boils and you screamed in pain as they vanished.

“Thank you.” You smiled sadly. Overwhelmed. Peeta often said you were a kind sole, you wouldn’t hurt a fly at home, literally. You sang songs and picked flowers. You weren’t meant for this. Nobody was really….

“Come on, let’s wash you off…if at least half this blood is yours, we’re in serious trouble.” He joked and you attempted to laugh. He picked you up bridal style.

You would argue that you could do it yourself but it just wasn’t true.

He dipped you into the salt water. You hissed in pain, clutching his wetsuit.

“I know it stings. I’m sorry.” He rubbed your arm but kept you underwater.

“It okay. Thank you.” You whispered again, almost scared something bad would happen like it had been. One after the other. Peeta cupped water into his hand and tilted your head back rinsing the blood out of your hair and carefully brushing through it with his fingers.

He washed you off, holding you with one had at all times. Afraid to let you go. He was careful around your cuts and scrapes.

“I killed her.” You let out, staring at nothing.

He stopped his movements and just helped you too his chest.

“Who?” He whispered.

“Six… she tried to save me and-“ you chocked on your tears.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay…I’m here. You don’t have to talk about it now.” He assured.

You were both wrinkly like the raisins Peeta used in his raisin bread back home by the time you got out the water.

You tried to walk but you could barely stand on your right foot.

“What happened?” Finnick asked before Peeta got the chance.

“Mutts.” You answered simply, trying to see the gash on the back of your calf.

You almost fell but Peeta caught you. He picked you up agin and placed you on the leaves they were using as beds in the sand tonight.

“Now we match.” Peeta smiled at you pulling up the leg of his wetsuit to reveal his prosthetic leg.

You laughed, for the first time in days.

The others were asleep while Peeta took the first watch. You sat in his lap, and wrapped your legs around his torso, like a koala.

Head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he leaned against a tree looking at the waves.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, a tear running down his face. You sat up slightly to wipe it. “Me too.” You assured and squeezed his hand.

“So much for sticking together.” He half laughed.

“Yeah.” You looked at his brown eyes and played with his blonde fringe. He leaned in and Kissed you gently but passionately. Holding your cheek and pulling you in by your back. Carefully avoiding your right leg that was tediously bandaged with leaves and vines.

When you broke apart for air. You smiled softly at each other. Heart still heavy from the past two days.

“I love you n/n.” He spoke with only truth in his tone. It wasn’t just an act and you knew that.

“I love you too…so much.” You teared up thinking about how you were going to have to say goodbye soon.

You resumed your position on his chest and fell asleep to his hand rubbing your back and his whispers of “it’s okay.” And “I love you.”

#y/n #peeta supremacy #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark #team peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #the hunger games peeta #i love peeta #the hunger games #catching fire #thg #thg fanfiction #finnick odair #hunger games #may the odds be ever in your favor #the capitol #panem

824 notes · View notes

yandereunsolved · 6 months ago

Text

🦇 — Stephanie Brown — 🦇

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, huh eh—!?"

"..."

"It isn't very kind to throw things it at the person who saved your life."

"You kidnapped me and locked me in a random hotel room."

"The term 'kidnapping' is so subjective! You were trying to leave the country for some business trip. Some bad guys would have wanted to hurt you. You wouldn't cooperate so I had to remove you from the situation."

"I had Oracle triple check everything over I even bought the plan tickets. This is a very important trip, Stephanie."

"Don't use my name like that! Hmph—You are my mentor. You aren't supposed to leave the country without me! You could get hurt. You aren't a crime fighter like the rest of us. Y-You are so technical and intelligent, and you are even better than Tim or Barbara at so much of the hacking stuff! You are like a doctor and have a psychology degree. You're just so great."

"I understand that you have grown close to me. However, our emotional connection cannot interfere with this job. I am going to be taking down an incredibly powerful crime boss—"

"Let me help you. I will be an asset. I can swear to that."

"You are growing obsessive and a bit possessive of me. We need to draw a line in the sand. You were not even notified of this mission! How would you—it was Tim, wasn't it?"

"Maybe. I wouldn't call it obsessive. I just need to help out my mentor. It'll be a good learning experience. Let me come, please."

"No."

"Please,please,please,please,please."

"No."

"Fine. I just won't let you go. I may not be as intelligent as you, but I am much stronger. You can just stay here in the hotel room with me, and we can watch movies and do skincare."

"You have gotten me this time. You can come along on one condition. That condition is that you listen to every word I say, and you stay on the down low."

"Of course! You won't regret it! I love you. I love you so, so, so much!"

#dc #batfam #batfamily #dc characters #batman #stephanie brown #batgirl #yandere #yandere dc #yandere dc x reader #yandere drabble #yandere imagine #stephanie brown x reader #stephanie brown robin #yandere stephanie brown #yandere stephanie brown x reader #dc comics #yandere x reader

219 notes · View notes

melodiousmonk · 8 months ago

Text

Ethan Hawke asks, "Why does masculine energy so often manifest itself as idiocy? Why is male sensitivity so often linked with perceived weakness? How does one be, as Johnny Cash said; ‘a dove with claws?'"

Kris Kristofferson takes a long beat, then says, “Yeah, that used to piss Shel Silverstein off.”

“What did?” Ethan asks.

“That whole ‘dove with claws’ thing. He just thought, ��What the hell is that?'”

“Why do you think Cash said it?”

“I think he was feeling the very thing that you’re talking about – that if people think you are against the war, that in some way you’re a pussy.”

“Your first recorded song was a pro-Vietnam War song, right?”

“Yeah, I wrote it when I was in the Army on my way to Nashville, and I came upon a protest march. I had a lot of friends over there; and I was thinking we were fighting for freedom. And I wasn’t thinking very deeply.”

“Why did you end up changing your mind about that war?”

“I was flying helicopters in the Gulf of Mexico on one of those offshore oil rigs, and I was talking to some guys coming home. The stories they were telling me were so horrible that I think it just shocked me enough to change my thinking 180 degrees. I’m talking about things like this young vet telling me about taking people up in a helicopter and interrogating them and if they didn’t say what they were supposed to, they’d throw them out, stomping on the fingers of the prisoner holding on to the skids, you know? The guy telling me this particular story was still just a green kid when he returned from the war. The notion that you could make a young person do something so inhuman to another soldier – or even worse, a civilian – convinced me that we were in the wrong. I hadn’t been thinking in human terms of what that military action was.” He pauses, stroking my dog. “I agree with you totally about all the conditioning that makes us want to feel masculine and tough. I mean, I’m sure that’s why I went to Ranger School and Jump School. And I’m proud of that Ranger tab – still am. But the notion of bombing a defenseless country that’s never threatened us and the fact we all accepted it and said, That’s politics!’ Damn. I’m not really interested in polities. We’ve come to a place that I never dreamed and I know my father never dreamed that America would get to.

"That’s why Shel didn’t like that ‘dove with claws’ thing,” Kris goes on.

“Johnny Cash should have just said he was a dove and proud of it?”

“Exactly. ‘Cause people would have accepted anything from John,” says Kris. “We knew he was a man. I don’t really think anybody would have called Johnny Cash a pussy. But John was conditioned, just like you and me. You really have to get past all of that — where you have enough feeling about what’s right and wrong in the world to not give a shit about what kind of names anybody throws at you.

[Source - Rolling Stone Magazine]

#johnny cash #kris kristofferson #ethan hawke #shel silverstein

297 notes · View notes

honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 1 month ago

Note

Can we please get a yandere alucard part 4 🥹🥹 Prettyyy Pleassee 🥹🥹🙏🙏

& Anonymous D asked: Is there a chance you will continue the yandere Alucard x reader storyline part 4? I’m sorry. I’m just so invested in the story. Your writing is good. - D

A/N: It’s been a while so I had to go back and reread/refresh myself. Here they are Part One, Part Two, and Part Three for you to read if you also need to catch up. Or you can use the tag: ‘yandere alucard’ on my blog to see all of the Yandere! Alucard-themed writings I’ve done.

And a HUGE THANK YOU to @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken, my lovely beta-reader for this installment. Not only were they kind enough to offer to read this over for any grammar/writing mistakes, but they were so patient with me! I had writer's block pretty bad in the middle of this, and they were sweet enough to give me encouraging reminders. To them- I am so incredibly grateful! Normally, I finish something and just throw it up, so I want you all to know they are why this piece comes off as much more polished.

I also wanted to thank @rl800 for commenting on Part 3, about how they hope Y/N’s father eventually gives Alucard some sort of blessing for a relationship with his daughter. I was initially planning on killing him off early, but because I like rl800’s suggestion better, I’ve changed my idea for this part to include Y/N’s father as a contributing character. Oh, and as always...

TW!: This is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships are never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x].

Word Count: 3.2k

If you’d like ambiance for this part, check out this link: [x].

* * * * * *

You were rather disheartened to learn that what your Father had was phthisis.

The white plague.

Of course, in the back of your mind, you supposed you had considered such reality a possibility, but you could not bring yourself to admit as much. You suppressed those sobering thoughts with various dissensions.

If it was the plague, how come it wasn’t sweeping through the entire town? Why hadn’t you yet fallen ill? If it were truly a plague, then perhaps it was a milder strain?

You had warded off accepting the unspeakable for so long that, even now that it was true, a good degree of your mind still refused to believe it. Surely, Alucard was mistaken in some way, despite his seemingly infinite wisdom. It simply could not be true. Then again, your heartache alone could not change the circumstances.

You were grateful to be shown to your room quite soon after learning the true nature of your Father’s condition. The devastating revelation was the straw that broke the camel’s back— its brutality kicked you in the teeth— unveiling the weeks of fatigue that had been slowly gnawing at your battered bones. Besides the reprieve for yourself, you were extremely thankful to now have aid in caring for your Father, your cordial hosts’ compassion for your father’s condition released the short leash you had once ensnared yourself with, the one keeping you tethered to his bedside. Now you were free to sleep in your private bedroom, hell, on your private floor.

Seated on silky luxurious sheets, feeling the soft night shift’s fabric against your skin, you were forced to reconcile with the present reality: you were only a guest in this opulent room because your Father was ill, and at this point, there was nothing left you could do for him. In all honesty, it sounded as if there was little Alucard could do either. So much of the situation felt hopeless, despite your newfound companion’s assurances to the contrary.

Alucard announced, quite casually, that should you need anything else, or if he could be of any more assistance to you, his bed chambers were just a few paces down the hall from your own.

This sense of freedom was foreign to you, and it felt rather suffocating to be seated upon such a luxurious throw, all by your lonesome. Yes, you knew your Father was sick, and quite possibly contagious, but you had yet to catch anything at this point. What would be the harm if you spend an hour or two with him? For all you knew, you could have become immune to this illness.

Earlier in the evening, you had asked Alucard if he truly expected you not to visit your Father. He firmly, but sympathetically shot the question down.

‘It is still too great a risk to take,’ he had told you. ‘Your body needs time to be free from stress if you are to hopefully remain without illness yourself.’

The frailty of your muscles and the bags under your eyes made it obvious to you and Alucard that you were teetering on the edge of complete burnout. Should you continue to push through at the rate you were going, you’d no doubt join the ranks of your late family members.

Nevertheless, the silken sheets and large feather-stuffed mattress atop a tester canopied bed did not stop the faint chill of loneliness from ghosting across your skin. You wondered briefly if your Father’s room looked like yours. Or perhaps, it was designed to be more medicinal than comfortable. Was he up thinking of you, just as you were thinking of him?

It was late by the time your mind had ceased its seemingly endless racing, well into the early hours of the morning. Laid out flat on the bed, robed in a plain night shift with your hair uncovered, you felt an odd equilibrium of settled and aroused.

You felt small in the extensive room. For example, there was a tiled area intended for bathing off the left of where you lay, separated from the wooden floor by an exquisitely hand-crafted partition. It was stocked with fresh towels, a matching wash-stand set, and pitchers of clean, warned water. Next to the washstand’s porcelain basin was a variety of bar soaps, each one a more exciting shade and scent than the next, and on the lower shelf was a series of glass bottles— shampoos, cleansing oils, and perfumes. Everything was in perfect order, arranged in such an inviting manner.

The thought that Alucard took the effort to prepare such a collection just for you was almost disquieting. You had hoped he hadn’t gone to too much trouble securing such lovely items before your arrival, especially since it was rather short notice. Then again, perhaps these were just some things he happened to already own within the castle. The place was huge, after all.

Honestly, you didn't know what would be more daunting, the thought of Alucard giving up his items for your sake, or the idea that Aluard hurriedly procured these new items with your freshly negotiated stay in mind. Both options felt significantly intimate; either act felt like a kindness you were unworthy of.

As you formed a loose plan to kindly reject Alucard's lavish gifts and attentions, the man of the hour himself came to knock upon your door.

* * * * * *

Alucard was beaming. No, he was more than beaming, he was practically flying. Well, not literally. Although, that would be no extraordinary feat for The Alucard, son of Dracula and Lisa Tepes. In his years as sole inhibitor and keeper of both Castlevania and the Belmont Hold, his wisdom and abilities flourished greatly, free from the looming threat of time that burdened the rest of humanity. His prowess had come to be unmatched, his dual heritage leaving little he could not accomplish. Alucard possessed the ability to conquer all things if he so wished; all things, except for one.

At the time this bold young woman had trespassed his home, it had been nearly a hundred or so years since the deaths of his last human companions. And while Alucard was not predisposed to loneliness, he was prone to fits of melancholy.

Even though the castle was alive, it was quiet. It did not provide comfort or companionship the way a human would. Hell— at times Alucard found himself imagining what a close allyship with another vampire would look like among these vast hallowed halls. He certainly had no shortage of vampires and other supernaturally inclined beings desperately vying for the Great Lord Alucard’s attention.

It was always futile, Alucard had come to learn. Vampires were paranoid and power-hungry by nature and rarely lived long enough to outgrow their newfound bloodlust. Young, power-hungry vampires who sought to usurp Alucard always came to meet the same swift, almost boringly inevitable demise. They did not present any real challenge to him, not anymore.

It did pain a part of him. His human side, he supposed. Perhaps, it was the influence of his Mother’s memory, the way a sudden ache for companionship— a friend, a lover, an acquaintance, anything— would seize his heart at times. Mother wouldn’t have wanted him to be alone. She wished for him to be kind to humans, even if they could never understand him. She had always emphasized kindness when encouraging Alucard’s journey of self-discovery. Lisa Tepes knew her son would never become the kind of man her husband was, but she wanted Alucard to understand that it was okay. She did not wish for him to be defined by his relation to Dracula but by his relationship with humanity.

It wasn’t that Alucard hadn’t tried— he had. For years, he had kept himself surrounded by humans, even after Trevor and Sypha, Greta, and the original descendants of Danesti had passed. But as humanity grew more evolved, and began to long for traditions and independence beyond all that his gothic castle could offer, he found himself alone for years in which there was little else to do other than take to his underground coffin and sleep to pass the time.

His solitude had been weighing on him especially hard for the past several decades or so. But with his isolated routine so ingrained, Alucard could not see a viable way to invite a human into his life. He was aware that out there, perhaps even beyond what was once known as the independent region of Wallachia, several branches of the Belmont line continued to thrive. Of course, Alucard was certain he would be all but a myth to them at this point, something one of their descendants would speak of as they shared ancient stories around the campfire.

In truth, he did not wish to seek them out. He did not wish to have to seek anyone out.

Alucard wished that someone— someone worthy— would come to him. He had only found himself desiring such a circumstance for a little under a month when this strange woman, this (Y/N) made her way past his front door.

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard mused, as he strode down the hallway between his and (Y/N)'s room, ‘There is a God after all.’

Balancing the tea tray in one hand, Alucard lifted his other to knock softly upon (Y/N)’s door. If she was already sleeping, he did not wish to wake her.

Alucard felt a wave of relief wash over him as her melodious voice answered from the other side of the door.

“Alucard? Is that you?”

Amused with her question, Alucard opened the door with a carefree smile. “Yes. I’ve brought you some herbal tea. I assumed you would have difficulty adjusting to sleep in such a new environment.”

His words were perfect: just the right mix of compassion and concern, yet not overbearing or anxious. If he just kept this up, if she could just see how well her life could be here, with him, how simple things would be, everything would work out beautifully. And speaking of beautiful…

Dressed in a simple white night shift, Alucard was taken aback at how elegant and feminine (Y/N) looked while robed in such a plain garment. Her hair, finally uncovered before him, had been unbraided, and let down to naturally frame her face. Her locks were full and lush, no doubt a sign of good fertility in addition to her overall health. This indication of her reproductive health ignited visions in the back of Alucard’s mind of all the different children they would have running around the castle halls.

Swallowing down the fantasy for now, Alucard retained his external composure. ‘Remember,’ he chided himself, ‘For humans, it must be their idea for it to work.’

(Y/N) took the tray from his hands and set it down on the small table, opposite the washing room. It was centered between two wooden chairs, made to accommodate intimate meals between two people.

“You needn’t do so much for me, you know? You’ve done plenty already.”

“It is no trouble. I’ve found myself enjoying having someone more than just myself to feed.” Before his bravado could falter, Alucard took a seat at the table, gesturing for (Y/N) to join him.

“Is it lonely?” (Y/N) asked. The sincere curiosity in her tone caught Alucard off-guard. “I’ve never lived anywhere on my own. I can’t begin to imagine being all by myself, especially in a place of this size.”

Aiming to keep the conversation light, Alucard opted for a more humorous response.

“Nonsense. The ghosts and ghouls in the dungeons keep me plenty occupied.”

“In that case,” (Y/N) smiled, eagerly reciprocating Alucard’s playful parley. “Remind me to stay far away from the dungeon.”

“Certainly,” Alucard answered, retrieving a cup of steaming tea. “I would hate for you to become the latest poltergeist haunting these grounds. Just imagine what your Father would say.”

At the mention of her Father, (Y/N)’s smile faltered. Silently, she seated herself before picking up her cup. Taking a tentative sip, her brow furrowed at the odd taste.

“It’s mandrake tea,” Alucard explained, continuing to swallow his down nonchalantly.

“And do you normally drink, uh mandrake tea?” (Y/N) asked, politely feigning another sip.

“It will keep you healthy. Ward off any infection or cold,” Alucard misled.

Misled, not lied— mandrake root did have healing properties. Truthfully speaking, its main uses were as an anesthetic and a fertility aid. But until (Y/N) was as committed as he to their collective future, it was best she did not know such things.

“Oh,” (Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I thought it was just used in witchcraft. And that it was dangerous to harvest.”

Alucard chuckled, shaking his head. “The myth of the mandrake screaming is nothing more than an old wives’ tale, which the Church has exploited in their favor. They claimed Joan of Arc was carrying a mandrake root when she was seized by the Burgundians in the city of Compiègne.”

(Y/N) shook her head, not quite understanding. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of this ‘Joan of Arc’. Nor the city of Compiegne, it must be quite far from here.”

Alucard smiled, knowingly. “Very far, yes.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) nodded, this conversation clearly out of her depth. “Well, those people, ah the Church,” (Y/N) corrected herself, “Why would they say that? What did they have to gain?”

“They sought to cast a shadow over her reputation, and to besmirch any scholars proclaiming the mandrake’s healing properties.”

“How—” (Y/N) started, “How do you know all this?”

Alucard shrugged. “The original keeper of this castle collected centuries of suppositories of knowledge, many of which contained science previously vilified by the church. I’ve been fortunate enough to read nearly all which is stored here.”

(Y/N) forced herself to swallow down another mouthful. “‘Original keeper’?’” she repeated. “I thought that was you.”

“No,” Alucard said, somewhat decisively. His sharp tone indicated the matter was not up for discussion. “I was not the one who brought this castle into existence. I merely inherited it.”

(Y/N) nodded again, her posture more notably hunched than before. She forced herself to take a good long sip before swallowing harshly.

Thrown by all this newly shared information, (Y/N) licked her lips before pressing them together in a tight line. “I know earlier you said that it would be unwise for me to go see him, in the event I’d catch something…”

“Yes.”

“And while I certainly don’t like this being this situation, you are the expert here, as well as our host so I’ll respect it…”

“But?”

“I need you to promise me one thing. Just one thing, and I swear I will stop pestering you about visiting him.”

Alucard nodded, encouragingly.

“You will tell me when he’s dying.”

Alucard felt the air in the room grow cold.

(Y/N) said ‘when’ he was dying, as if she had come to that hopeless conclusion already. Did she truly have so little faith in him, that she couldn’t envision her Father recovering? Had he not been firm enough in assuring her of his medical knowledge? Was he doing too little to comfort her? Too little to distract her? Or… perhaps too much?

Had Alucard’s honeyed words and kind intentions accomplished the opposite of what he intended? Had his constant reassurance acted as a warning for grief that had yet to come?

This was not good— not good at all.

Internally, Alucard’s mind was racing through potential future scenarios.

If her Father died now, she’d have no reason to stay. She’d pack up and leave, and forevermore associate his name, his memory, Alucard’s very existence with heartache. No.

No, she had to stay! Which meant her Father had to live! But, how?

Alucard was powerful; still, he had no dominion over Death.

In every outcome, (Y/N)’s Father remained a crucial aspect of his plan. She revered him, she loved him— and most importantly— she trusted him explicitly.

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard’s mind supplied, ‘Therein lies the answer to our question. Instead of working so hard to gain (Y/N)’s approval, I could gain a blessing from her Father. If he were to see us as someone worthy of his daughter’s hand, he would no doubt share that final sentiment with her, before his passing.’

It was genius, foolproof really.

If it was made clear to (Y/N)’s Father, that Alucard was the best option for her, and the one most capable of ensuring her safety and happiness…

If the last thing her Father ever did was command them to be together, no daughter, especially not one as respectful and obedient as (Y/N) could refuse.

Alucard needn't be so alarmed after all.

Nodding solemnly, Alucard’s golden eyes bore unflinchingly into hers.

“I promise.”

Once the tea had been finished, Alucard bid (Y/N) goodnight, encouraging her to at least try and get a few hours of sleep before the coming sunrise.

Quietly, he gathered all the teacups back onto the serving tray and exited the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

For a moment, Alucard stood still. He waited until he heard the unmistakable ruffle of sheets, and the slowed heartbeat of a human finally at rest.

Shortly after (Y/N) had agreed to bring her Father here, Alucard considered placing a sponge soaked in somnifera under her pillow. Now, Alucard was glad to have decided against it. Her body was beyond tired enough to fall asleep on its own, and it wouldn’t do him any good to set off any suspicions with unusual scents in the room.

Besides, his plan had a new direction now— a superior direction. She was not the one he needed to charm, oh no. From where he stood, Alucard could also hear the person he needed to charm, coughing fitfully upstairs.

And it was time, Alucard decided, to pay him an honest visit.

* * * * * *

Notes:

Mandrake, which gave Rachel children in the bible- used to be believed to treat infertility, but also loads of other stuff, but the fertile thing is what Alucard is utilizing it for here. It was also possibly in the wine given to Jesus on the cross. It had a strong sedative effect. The myth that could not harvest the roots without being killed up until 1597 (so this would be news prob to the reader, old news to Alu) It was also thought to be a love charm- medieval church cast it out as a demonic talisman, punished Joan of arc for ‘carrying’ one.

The mix called The Spongia Somnifera is From Arabian scientist Ibn Sina (c. 980 to 1037 CE), or Avicenna. In his authoritative Canon of Medicine, he identified certain plants with pharmacological action, such as mandrake, opium, and henbane. He described the Spongia Somnifera: “Opium, juice of hyoscyamine, unripened berry of the blackberry, hog beans, lettuce seed, juice of hemlock, poppy, mandragora. Put these all together in a vessel and plunge therein a new sea sponge, and put that in the sun during the dog days until all the liquid is consumed. And when there is need, dip it a little in water and apply it to the nostrils of the patient, and he will quickly go to sleep.”

TB was also called phthisis, or “wasting,” by Hippocrates.

Some other interesting sources: Old-Timey Medicine; TB Throughout History; Mandragora: Anesthesia of the Ancients; Mandrake: The Scream of Death; and Gerad’s Herbal Chapter 65: Mandrake

* * * * * *

A/N 2.0: AGAIN PLEASE GIVE A HUGE SHOUT-OUT TO MY WONDERFUL BETA @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken , WHO VOLUNTEERED TO HELP ME WITH THIS INSTALLMENT.

* * * * * *

Tag List: @peterpankat ;

Let me know, if you’d like to be added to the tag list by either commenting on this post, mentioning so in a reblog, or sending me an ask requesting to be added.

* * * * * *

And as always… Please Like and REBLOG!

* * * * * *

#yandere alucard x reader #yandere alucard imagine #yandere alucard #yandere castlevania #yandere x reader #alucard x reader #alucard castlevania #castlevania #os #yandere #tw yandere #tw: yandere

94 notes · View notes

the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 7 months ago

Text

The creator had a child but refuses to speak:

Just between Us

There is more than 1 person with star pupils in teyvat, tsaritsa. You work with one of them too...

Read also: Kaeya gets blamed for dainsleif's baby

Wc: 700

Giving birth is supposed to be a happy experience, maybe that is why you chose mondstadt, whenever you thought about the land that welcomed you it brought a smile to your face.

It was supposed to go smoothly in the cathedral overseen by Barbara and nurses, then next morning the archons would visit one by one and share a meal while planning how the next years would go. But seemingly a remark like ‘such odd pupils, like stars in the sky’ and an unfortunate passerby had you running to avoid a murder.

“Tsaritsa, let Kaeya go” you yelp as you run out of the cathedral and push the multitude of people circling them.

There were some knights pushing people away, just in case a slash of her sword would reach far enough towards the crowd to hurt civilians, some others trying to defuse the situation that came seemingly out of the blue, and seeing how the long haired woman didn't stop her slashes some people started dragging children away, already expecting a public execution.

Hearing your voice, people started moving away. Hoping for you to be able to save their beloved captain.

Some eyes started to wander to the cathedral door when a short blonde girl came out but stood by the arch, a newborn in her arms. The older adults would fawn over him on any other occasion.

A beautiful baby. A beautiful wide eyed baby. A star eyed baby.

Running up to her you grab her right arm, high in the sky and ready to strike down with a slash. Pulling her arm away gives kaeya enough time from the blows and slashes to properly stand up and put some space between them.

Now the few people who noticed started whispering and gossiping as they just now found the reason for her wrath. For both of them to have blue eyes would be a coincidence, maybe even his dark blue hair too, but his star pupils? That is almost a confirmation for anyone with eyes.

“Stop this I said!” Your voice comes hoarse enough that you can feel the itch in your throat, not used to you raising your voice to any degree tsaritsa's hold on her sword faltered enough for you to push it away.

“How could I! When he dishonored you and never dared to step up until proof was on his face” now without her weapon the only sharp thing she could throw at him were hurtful words.

“FIRST OF ALL, I was not ‘dishonored’ whatever happened I fully intended for and second how would you feel now if I told you he is not the father”

Her eyes widen and face pales to match snow as she asks, dread pooling in her eyes “was it…”

“No. It wasn't Pierro either” she sighs slightly calmer after getting assurance, some part of her never stopped doubting that meeting where she left you two alone for some hours. “But then… who?”

“Who it was doesn't matter. This child is mine foremost. Will you go inside and meet us for breakfast or do you want to keep up this fruitless manhunt?” you hold her hand, trying to reach her.

“My apologies, your grace… ” she closes her eyes and turns to the cathedral, the rest of the archons looking at her.

Now that you are sure she would go there you turn to Kaeya, a long but superficial slash going across from his ribs to his shoulder plus some dark spots where she digged her heels that would surely bruise badly tomorrow.

“Didn't expect such a workout this early”

“I am so sorry, I wouldn't have thought she would go hunting people down so soon”

He laughs a bit but shakes his head “it isn't like you told her to do it” but after he finishes speaking he looks into your eyes “so… star eyes”

“Yes, if you want you could meet him later… when the tsaritsa leaves” you joke making him laugh and he leaves to change clothes, his shirt almost slit out of his body.

Before you turn back to the cathedral you catch a blond head peeking from behind one of the pillars, familiar blue eyes making you smile.

Tonight you would leave a window open so someone could meet their child.

"Did you get tired already or do you have to burn any more energy?"

"shut it, don't act like you didn't want to kill him at first"

"I was about to do the same but you were already grabbing your sword"

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin dainsleif #dainsleif x reader

281 notes · View notes

moonpie016 · 4 months ago

Text

*Crawls out of the dark matter that consumes the wretched.* :]

Idk what that was about. My limbs hurt. Anyway!

Because of someone's wonderful question ( @coelacanth-designs (idk if you wanna be tagged) COUGH!

HMSsonas. Explanation for each of em'. Yay.

---

Now yes they still hold some aspects of the originals, but I think they look cool.

💜So first we have Heart, I don't know what to really call any of them. (Figure it out later).

He's more or less literally the emotions, he loves too much yet so very little at times. Mostly depends on who he finds comfortable. Anxious, just stands there confused on what to do, how to approach, just anything. And overall has a kid like attitude to some things, not really feeling all that mature in some aspects. He also can easily hate whenever things happen that are...not to his liking.

His outfit could be based on something I wore before, like gowns or something. His eyes, when either under extreme emotions or literally heartbreak, can split and probably damage his vision. They're all hairy. That's cool. And purple is pretty.

💙Ah yes, the Mind, he's.... More of the critic and always questioning why or how something works, not to the extent that Heart does in a worried sense. But in a wonder, wanting to take in the knowledge of others. But he's easily irritated. Just by noises, they're all annoyed by sudden loud noises. As I am myself (they are supposed to reflect me. Sooo/lh) His outfit is basically what I wear sometimes in colder weather, jacket with whatever. No jewelry though. But he has it because it's nice. And uses big complex words for no reason but because he thinks it sounds good.

❤️Seeds, Hm? Oh Soul, they... are basically more closer to me. Funny shirt with random pun/design, baggy pants (depending) always carrying a bag of stuff. Comfort bag I guess. Little worm on a string and dinosaur, (I don't have actually, but have had before.) Soul is in his own head, always distracted but tries to stay on task, also an emotional being, having curious ideas, walks in a funny manner. He doesn't really care about how he looks, he just wants comfort. But if he doesn't care, others will. Soo social anxiety get inside the boi. (Not because of his attire, but of being told to do things normally). He says whatever on the top of their head, though he's weary to say anything. He also has a more feminine build then the rest of the two, Mind has a bit more masculine build, Heart has more of a chubby build. But Soul? He's skinny. To a degree. But he doesn't mind it.

---

Here's alt stuff, like without the text and some rabbit ears, cus rabbits are cool. And some doodles. :] ⬇️

---

Think that's all for now, uh if I come up with nicknames for them, I will. But until then *THROWS THEM*

and Myst is still the "Whole" of the group. Kinda.

---

#chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash oc #chonny jash heart #chonny jash mind #chonny jash soul #chonny jash fanart #my bebes which are just basically aspects of me #yay?#oc

74 notes · View notes

whetstonefires · 1 year ago

Text

Very fun thing actually about Jin Guangyao is he spent so much time and energy passing himself off as normal. The Normalest Guy, Look How Normal I Am. The Very Best And Most Skilled At Normal Things, Like Being Normal And Having Normal Opinions.

Which is great because on the one hand it reflects how he was kind of aware he absolutely was not. (And that by default this isolated him and this was Very Unsafe.) But on the other you see, with all the times he falls into the typical mind fallacy under stress and projects weird shit onto people, he also on some level believed everyone was doing this.

That being a Normal Person who had Normal Reactions to things, like being appalled by brutal violence, was an elaborate social lie everyone had to maintain to keep up the facade of civil society, and actually everyone was basically the same as him deep down. He was just better at it, and also the smartest.

Which is a very long way to say his character arc is heavily tied up with his evolving relationship with and skills at masking. I'm not gonna armchair diagnose him because that's beside the point, the point is that he is trying so fucking hard to be normal, but without a particularly well-developed definition of what's abnormal about him to begin with, resulting in some misfires.

And then you contrast him to some other characters and it gets more fun. One of his direct foils is Nie Mingjue, who literally does not know how to mask at all, not the slightest bit, but is fortunate enough to have been born the exact kind of weirdo his position in life demands, with special interests in 'saber training' and 'destroying evil.'

(He explicitly, per narration from wwx being inside his head, has no other interests and doesn't really understand the idea of having more than one activity you care about, do not tell me Nie Mingjue is walking around with a normal brain.)

So he is (jgy has a point about this, although he actually makes it about the luxury of having moral compunctions) free to totally embrace the conviction that everyone should basically be their authentic selves at all times, and just not do evil things about it.

On the other hand, and this really illuminates their relationship for me, Lan Xichen is absolutely trying to be normal. Like, he does try to excel, he wants to be best and he knows he's good, but as a person he is also trying to be as normal as circumstances allow.

He understands 'being normal about things' as a goal not in jgy's terms as an elaborate social fiction but as aspirational shaping of the self; if everyone is normal about everything then there won't be needless conflict. Living as normally as possible will optimize your mental health and your respect for others, and it's just a good baseline from which to be good.

Which is fine as far as it goes, but means harmless eccentricity (including gay) is to be tolerated and swept under the rug rather than really supported, and prejudices him to instinctively side with Jin Guangyao and anyone else who is pushing for Let's Be Normal About This, even when the people being weird are in the right.

(This is also to a non-zero degree a trauma response behavior; what Lan Xichen experienced as the largest existential threat to him growing up was something along the lines of being perceived as a selfish disruptor of norms, like his father.)

And then contrast that to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, who are both very concerned at least initially with how things and people and they themselves are supposed to be, and feel some responsibility for ensuring this supposed-to is reflected in reality.

But neither of them makes any particular attempt to be normal about it.

And then ofc Wei Wuxian, another jgy narrative foil, never attempts to pass himself off as normal. He will sell 'I'm better than everyone ever' and 'I'm scum of the earth' in the same breath before he will try for normal.

Except that he genuinely seems to think his most virtuous traits, his throw-himself-between-victim-and-weapon impulses, are basically normal. If not everyone (who isn't a total shithead) does it, it's because not everyone has his insane confidence they can pull it off.

Which in a good mood he would say is fair, because he is in fact awesome and really good at winning. (In a worse state of mind he would definitely hate on all the selfish cowards.)

Nie Huaisang is probably the most genuinely normal human being in the main cast, probably even more normal than Jiang Yanli, and he's very happy to play that up and present himself as actually even more normal and average than he is, in order to keep expectations down.

Up until his whole life gets fucked and this little pretense turns into the most elaborate and successful mask in the entire book.

#hoc est meum #characterization #meta #masking #mdzs #everyone makes my posts about jgy anyway so i'm just starting with him out the gate #he's such a fun characterization study ngl #jin zixuan is more normal than nhs but i can't honestly call him a main character

556 notes · View notes

sapphic-agent · 4 months ago

Note

I've come to realize that I actually wouldn't have minded Aizawa, Nighteye, Shinsou, and even Bakugou characterizations IF THEY WERE ACTUALLY CALLED OUT BY THE NARRATIVE. There was an awesome fanfic that took place in the Sports Festival where Izuku vs Shinsou happened the same way, but the Pro Heroes were turned off by Shinsou's attitude. It's also why I wish 1A would have stuck with not liking Bakugou.

But no, let's harp on Izuku and All Might for the smallest mistakes they make and blame them for things beyond their control 🙄

To be completely fair to Nighteye, the narrative actually does call him out. Like, not outright, but we're not supposed to like him or be on his side. He's actually one of the few asshole characters the narrative bothers to treat like one (Monoma is another one, I can't think of any others. Maybe Mineta? But his antics are done for laughs). The only thing I would say goes completely under the radar is him strapping down his employee to tickle her- Horikoshi I am in your walls- but we are supposed to dislike him for how he treats Izuku.

I actually do think that in some ways a narrative should be harder on its main characters. Like, I don't mind more being expected of Izuku as the protagonist or All Might as the deuteragonist. However, that means fuck all because Bakugou's the deuteragonist now and both Izuku and All Might are still held to a higher standard than he is. Bakugou can do and say whatever the fuck he wants and the narrative doesn't even bother to check him, let alone the other characters.

Bakugou and Shinsou should be treated like Monoma is by 1A. Like, I get Bakugou to some degree since they've been through more with him, but Shinsou has been just as nasty to them as Monoma and has absolutely nothing to back that up. If I'm not mistaken, didn't he literally call Shoji (or was it Ojiro) a name to make fun of his looks? And the difference in the way the narrative treats Bakugou as opposed to Monoma has always bothered me. Why are the few digs Monoma throws at 1A treated with more contempt than Bakugou's literal acts of aggression and violence against Izuku?

But the actual worse is Aizawa because in Horikoshi's mind Aizawa doesn't actually do anything wrong. He's hailed as a "good teacher" who teaches the hard lessons his students "need." Fucking Kakashi wannabe. The absolute audacity to compare Gojo to Kakashi when Aizawa is right there istfg I'm gonna lose it- All Might getting so much shit when he's actually trying and improving while Aizawa's praised as such a good teacher is my 13th reason.

The way Horikoshi plays favorites with his characters is so blatantly obvious, yet someone will look you dead in your eye and tell you that Bakugou is treated worse than Izuku is. Like gtfo my face

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #anti aizawa shota #anti sir nighteye #anti shinsou hitoshi #ask

68 notes · View notes

em1e · 2 years ago

Text

ᶻz feat. toge + itadori + megumi !!

jjk && college tropes

☓ silly little college au's // insp from @k9wa my spinkle spoingle pumpkin pie's tr version

ᶻz・toge inumaki

⠀ ⬤ as the best damn tutor you’ve ever had

inumaki almost snickers when you all but throw your forehead against the table in the library, practically defeated by your ‘intro to anatomy and physiology' assignments. despite your clear distress, he taps the top of your head for your attention. with a huff, you barely sit up, chin resting on the polished wood with an angry red mark forming on your forehead.

he points to the work again, typing out on his laptop to make it easier to explain.

‘It’s easy once you realize the nervous system can be broken down to two different parts - the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system.’

reading that makes you want to puke.

“the way you typed that makes you sound like a dictionary.” you grimace.

he smiles, one that has you flushing and looking away when he taps the hardcover textbook sitting open in front of him. you can hardly see it from the way you’re sitting, but just barely you’re able to make out highlighted text. the definition of nervous systems screaming at you in bright blue ink.

“that feels like cheating when you explain it in just a slightly different way than the book.” you kick at his chair leg, but there’s no real intent to harm him in any way. he only hums, typing.

‘It’s not cheating. I’m just using my resources.’

“using ‘em to make me look stupid,” you grumble, sitting up only to slump forward again with your head in your hands, “i’m hopeless, inumaki! i’m never gonna pass this stupid class and get my stupid degree.”

you’re complaining just to complain at this point, too overwhelmed with too many classes and assignments and other things in life to do to really be so stressed over something you could easily have done in half an hour if you just stopped whining.

if inumaki cares to unbox all that stress, he makes no move to show it, only typing away and nudging your foot when you don’t look up to read what he’s said.

‘Let’s take a break and go to that cafe you like, then we can work through every assignment together.’

okay, maybe he does show it a little.

“what about your assignments? i promised i’d help you make that diorama for your psychology class-”

he’s waving you off while packing his bag, waiting to put his laptop away so you can still communicate.

‘We’ll do it tomorrow. It’s not due for another two weeks.’

you puff out your cheeks, eyeing him. “you sure?”

he sends you a thumbs up and that smile that leaves you practically melting in your chair, and that’s enough to encourage you to pack your stuff with a small grumble.

“fine, but i’m buying.”

you pull your wallet from your bag just to have it on hand, but he snatches it with a swiftness you never knew he had, sticking his tongue out at you and keeping it out of your reach when you swipe for it again. he shakes his head when you pout, shoving it into his jacket pocket and taking out his own to wave in front of you. like he’s taunting you, despite him being the only real loser for having to spend money on the both of you.

“you’re no fair inumaki, how am i supposed to pay you back for tutoring me and buying me coffee?”

he pulls out his phone to his notes app, typing for a second before facing it towards you.

‘Maybe going on a date with me would be enough?’

you feel yourself flush, shoving his phone away as if that’d get rid of it, “o-okay, yeah, that sounds good. that sounds nice.”

he smiles, offering you his hand to carry your bag for you, but takes it for himself when you don’t pass it over. then he’s grabbing your own hand, bold in his own way, to pull you out of the library when you’re still too surprised by his declaration to do any of it yourself.

ᶻz・yuji itadori

⠀ ⬤ as the worst classmate to work on a project with

you felt doomed the second the words left your professors lips.

“itadori and (y/n), you’ll be paired for the end of the semester presentation. what you’ll be graded on is in the syllabus, and . . . that should be it for pairings. class is dismissed.”

your professor closes the book in his hand and everyone in the class begins to disperse, but you feel frozen at your desk with your head in your hands.

fifty percent of your grade sits woven into this presentation, and you’ve been paired with the one person in class you didn’t want. even megumi would’ve been better! at least you know he’d do his part!

someone taps your desk, and you jump, looking at whoever saw it fit to disrupt your clear mental breakdown.

“hi!” your presentation partner smiles down at you, cheerful and happy and god you hate to say attractive, “looks like we’re partners!”

“yeah!” you force a smile, shoving your notebook into your bag with a little more hostility than necessary, “let me get your number and we can talk about the details of the assignment-”

you flinch when he thrusts his phone in front of you, and it leaves him smiling sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, ‘m not used to doing projects without megumi or nobara. i’ll do my best to help you!”

the way he says it sounds so genuine, you almost feel bad for judging him so harshly. almost, if not for the warnings your friends in other classes told you about him and his group. that they’d do the barest minimum of work, questioned everything the other wrote, and all but argue over each slide in simple presentations. still, the way he looks at you reminds you of a puppy, cute and nonthreatening. you’ll take his promise with a grain of salt.

you offer a real smile to match his, “it’s okay, we’ll work on it together.” and take his phone to enter your number, sending yourself a text so you can save it.

and he does make due on his promise. hell, he’s done more than you when it comes to adding slides, and you only have to fact check him a handful of times! it’s honestly such a shock, practically gaping when you opened the slides for the first time to see it was almost done before you’d even had a chance to add anything yourself.

still, you do your part, and you have a respectable presentation finished almost two months before it’s even due!

you invite itadori out for ice cream to celebrate. he joins you only five minutes after you’ve been waiting, and the two of you stroll around campus to find a nice place to relax after you’ve acquired your goods.

“i have to admit something.” he says when a nice silence washes over the two of you, ice cream long gone. you sit up from your lying position in the grass you’d settled in. itadori has that same sheepish look from when he’d greeted you officially for the first time, hand rubbing the back of his neck and smiling.

“oh god, what is it.” he winces at your sudden dramatics, afraid you’ll actually be upset for what he’s about to spill to you.

“i . . . didn’t do the whole presentation on my own.” he looks down, dejected and waiting for your barrage of insults he’s sure you’ll throw his way.

“well yeah, i helped.” you say as if stating the obvious. which is partly true, he guesses, but not what he’s getting at.

“no i- oh god, this is embarrassing to admit. i wanted to impress you so i had one of my friends help me put together a super cool presentation so you’d like me.” he flushes at the confession, leaving out the fact that he had to pay maki an embarrassing amount of money to help him.

and he expects you to berate him, or ask him why he’d do something so stupid, but instead the air is filled with your laughter.

“you didn’t have to do all that to impress me.” you say when you’re dwindled down to giggles, “you’re a pretty cool guy, i think i would’ve folded if you just asked me out.”

his blush spreads to his chest, but his smile only grows, “i wish i knew that before i gave away all the credits on my food card.”

ᶻz・megumi fushigiro

⠀ ⬤ as your favorite person to skip class with

you get the text while walking to your literature course, almost missing it to avoid being late.

want 2 hang?

you stop dead in your tracks, offering half-hearted apologies when you realize you’re in other people’s way in order to reply.

i have class.

he should know you do, given the fact that you shared your schedule with him and even tried to sync some overlapping classes together, with the hopes that you’d get to hang out in between certain times.

me 2. wanna get lunch?

you almost laugh, shaking your head to no one in particular. you are ahead in the course, and you rarely miss days for this class anyways. what’s the real harm in skipping just once?

sure, meet u in the cafeteria?

u know it.

with a hum, you turn on your heel in the opposite direction, fingers crossed that your dear friend megumi would be willing to pay for your meal using his dad’s credit card.

you spot him fairly easily once entering the cafeteria, sitting at the table you normally eat at, and greet him with a smile.

“hey.” you sit down, placing your bag to your side and taking out your wallet with a hum.

“hi,” he pushes one of the three items he has towards you, and you pause when you realize he’s already gotten you food. your favorite, no less, “how were your other classes today?”

“you’re too good to me, megumi,” you almost drool, saying a quick thanks before diving into the meal, “they were okay, mostly just reviewing old stuff.”

you pause for a second, eyeing him, “isn’t the class you’re skipping the only one you have today?”

he nods, too busy eating his own food to reply.

“what was the point of even coming today?” you laugh, flicking a packet of silverware at him, “why didn’t you just wait til’ after class? we could’ve eaten then.”

he shrugs, swallowing what’s in his mouth, “cafeteria would’ve been closed by then.”

he says it like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and you can’t stop the giggles that pass your lips, instead covering your mouth with your hand as if that’d hide them.

“we could’ve gone somewhere off campus, now both of us are gonna be behind.”

megumi seems unbothered at this, but you’re sure he has someone in class to grab notes from. probably itadori, if he promises to take him out to eat sometime during the week. still, he takes a moment to reply to instead enjoy the food he’s eating.

“if i did, we wouldn’t get to hang out for as long.”

you roll your eyes, deciding to not bring up how the two of you spend literally every other day together, “we still could’ve hung out after class, feels like a waste that you came here for one thing and didn’t even go to it.”

“‘s’not a waste if i’m hanging out with you.” he says casually, taking another bite.

you’d almost blush if not for the fact he has ketchup smeared against the side of his lip. it makes you smile, reaching over with a napkin to wipe it off his face and he hums at the familiarity. you’re glad the class you skipped is your last for the day, knowing megumi means knowing he’d easily convince you to forgo any others you might’ve had in favor of spending time with him.

he must pick up on the idea of you having a soft spot for him, because he takes each minute of your time in stride. deciding the hangout shouldn’t end at just lunch, he persuades you to join him at his dorm - it really didn’t take much from him, the offer of watching a movie with snacks provided leaving prettily from his lips being all you really need to say yes, and the day ends with you curled up beside him on his bed, ignoring the way itadori gushes at the two of you together in favor of watching the movie from megumi’s laptop.

#salmon rowe #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk

888 notes · View notes

inconsistent-kuroshitsuji-blog · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request Sebastian with a gender neutral s/o (or master) who had a mental breakdown bcs of math and acted like nothing happened infront of him? (I'm gonna lose my mind over math)

My dearie, of course. I know, it has been a while, but now I am here. (That sounded like I'm some sort god-figure.) I'm about 90% sure that I have completely lost my mind over math and have no way of getting it back.

Sebastian comforting you after you lose your mind over your math homework

When the fuck did math get letters? Why does math need letters? Why must it make a problem out of everything? Who cares at what degree a certain angle of a roof of a weird art exhibition is. Why should you care at what height a discoball is located if a laser hits it at a certain angle? And who even thinks of such ridiculous problems?

Advanced education? More like an advanced headache. You've sat here at your desk for about three hours, longer than you planned to. You were just trying to do your homework, but nothing was working out. The numbers didn't add up, you don't even know where to start at. It is all too much, too much at once, you just can't handle it anymore.

Throwing away your pencil, you start sobbing over that darned piece of paper. What is this supposed to teach you? Well, nothing that matters to you, of course, yet you're still forced to keep up with algebra and geometry and analysis, totally useless in your daily life. If only these problems were solvable with tears. The only thing they do for you right now is smudge your already hastily written tasks and solutions. Oh, how you hate this. You can only hate this. How could you ever do anything else-?

Your door opens. What now? Who has come to bother you at your lowest point of the day?

"Is everything alright, my dear?", you hear, yet you don't look up. You don't have to do so to know who is there. You'd recognise his gentle voice in a crowded room full of people who don't know how to properly adjust their voice volume. You also want to save yourself from the embarrassment of him seeing your puffy red eyes. So you only mumble something into your arm, something along the lines of "Maybe, I don't know, leave me alone.".

But he didn't. Of course he didn't leave, he never really does what you tell him to. Just like his beloved cats, Sebastian does what he feels like doing at any given point. So if he wants to physically see your tears for his amusement, he will watch them slowly run down your cheeks. You hear how he places something infront of you.

"If everything truly was alright, you'd show me your beautifull face. So, look up for me.". That snarky bastard. You'd hate him for that if you didn't love him more. So you slowly look up to him, eyes all puffy and swollen. "See? I'm fine.". You finally realised he placed a batch of biscuits infront of you, freshly made of course. Sebastian looks down at you with that smirk he always seems to have on his face. "Well, I don't believe you. You're a bad liar, kitten. What is troubling you?". He doesn't even wait for your answer, he just looks down and responds with a little "Ah.". He saw everything he needed to see.

"Is your scholarship too hard on you again? Or is it you being too hard on yourself?", he asked while sitting down next to you. He seemingly tries to make out what you wrote, but it is simply incomprehensible thanks to your tears. "I told you already, it's nothing. Just some stupid problems. As if I would've brought them to class anyway..."

"Frustrated, are we?". "Shut it...", you deliberately look away, yet he pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your head. "Now, no need to cry over silly made up numbers and problems. Rest your head for now.". Sebastian slightly nudges your head onto his chest. Maybe he's right. You should take a little break, just for now.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phew, finally something fresh on my paige. As you can guess, I'm well and alive, more alive than well but alive nonetheless. I'll see how I can get back on track. But until then, I will fulfill the meaning of my name by disappearing suddenly and reappearing again. Like a little ghost.

Until then~

Your Inconsistent Kuroshitsuji Blog~

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #black butler sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji sebastian #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler sebastian

78 notes · View notes

sweetcheeksschemmenti · 4 months ago

Text

Cat and Mouse

NSFW, 18+ only!

Melissa Schemmenti x f!OC

Warnings/tags: Porn, porn with little plot, orgasm denial, mommy kink, spanking,

WC: 6.3K

After months of Melissa toying with me and pushing me around, I had enough and told her so… so she punished me.

Notes: I never write smut, ever, but here we are! It is shameless Schemmenti porn. Please enjoy. 🫡

I started volunteering as Melissa’s aide a few days a week in August when I took a break from full time teaching, and after many months of playing into her games and being ridiculed for the smallest things, I was over it. It all came to a head one Friday after school when she asked me to stay to help with lesson plans, only for her to spend the entire time chastising me. “Honestly," she said with disgust, "How did you even get your teaching degree? They just hand that shit out these days? Like Oprah. You get a teaching degree, you get a teaching degree, everybody and their damn mother gets a teaching degree!"

My eyes went wide at the insult, but I refused to let her get the best of me, “Oh fuck off, Schemmenti.” I stood and found something in the corner to busy myself with, too tired to fight back like she wanted me to.

Melissa's eyes narrowed even further as she observed me attempting to distract myself. She set her cup of coffee down and leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms.

“You know, kid,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice thicker than molasses, “If I wanted your lip, I’d get it off my zipper.” She smirked, relishing in the power imbalance she had over me.

I rolled my eyes and spat back at her, “Ha! That’s a damn joke. You wouldn’t be caught dead with a woman between your legs! You’re too afraid of what anyone might think. You play it cool, but inside… you’re just a scared little girl.”

Melissa let out a sharp laugh, enjoying the exchange far too much. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she pushed off from the chair, standing to her full height, now almost as tall as me. She crossed the room slowly and closed the classroom door, locking it, her heels clicking ominously as she made her way over to me. "Oh, my dear little mouse," she purred, "don't you worry your pretty little head about what happens between my legs." She gave me a wink that could only be described as predatory, a smirk still tugging at her lips as she added, “That’s way above your pay grade, hon.”

A shiver ran down my spine, I could feel a familiar pit in my stomach forming. I masked it by rolling my eyes and adjusting my stance. “They don’t pay me, Melissa.”

“And you’re worth every penny.” Her wicked grin grew.

“W-what’s your problem? Huh?” I snapped at her and turned my entire body to look at her. “What the hell did I do to piss you off so bad? All I do is come in, do what you ask, and go home.” I throw my hands up in frustration.

Melissa’s smirk widened even more as she noticed the slight stutter in my voice. Her demeanor softened slightly, but the hint of mockery remained in her voice. "Oh, sweetie," she said, a note of feigned pity lacing her words, "you're so naive, it's almost endearing." She paused, considering me for a moment before continuing, "The problem isn’t what you’ve done. It’s who you are- spineless, weak, and completely lacking a backbone- very similar to Janine. You’re basically a doormat."

The anger and hurt that had been brewing within for months finally exploded as I raised my hand and smacked Melissa across the face. “You will NOT treat me like this any longer. You understand? You are not my superior, we are supposed to be a team and all you do is treat me like dog shit. Just because I am soft does not mean that I’m weak, Melissa. That’s obviously something you’ve yet to learn…”

Melissa's head snapped to the side as my hand made contact with her cheek, a bright red handprint forming instantly. The smirk was gone from her face, replaced with a look of disbelief and outrage. She recovered quickly, though, slowly turning her face back to glare at me with fire in her eyes. Stepping closer, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Watch it, mouse. Who do you think you are, laying a hand on me like that? Don't think I won't knock you on your ass, newbie."

I stepped dangerously closer to her, anger radiating off of both of us. With that anger fueling my every move, Melissa braced herself for what might come. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give an inch despite the fury in my eyes.

"Go ahead," she taunted, her words sharp and biting. "Hit me again. See what happens."

I looked her over for a moment, noting that damned smirk that graced her lips. God, I just wanted to slap that look off her face again. Instead, I grabbed her face roughly and smashed my lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss. I wrapped a leg around one of her own, wanting to be as close as possible.

The redhead gasped in surprise, her mouth opening slightly as my lips crashed against hers. However, the gasps quickly turned into a low moan, the sudden passion catching her off guard. She stumbled back, the surprise of her reaction causing her to lose her footing for a moment. Her arms wrapped around my body, pulling me close as she returned the kiss with just as much hungry passion. One of her hands slipped downwards, grabbing a fistful of my ass and squeezing firmly as she lost herself in the moment. I reveled in the feeling of Melissas’s hand on my ass, my lips parting. She used the moment to dart her tongue into my mouth. One of my hands weaved itself into her hair to hold her in place while the other squeezed her breast as I thumbed over her already erect nipple over her thin bra.

At the feeling of my hand grabbing her breast, Melissa let out a sharp gasp, her body arching into my touch. She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes glazed with desire, and licked her lips as she panted heavily. "Careful, mouse," she warned, her voice gravelly. "You're playing with fire." Despite the warning, she made no effort to stop me, in fact she leaned forward, pressing her body against mine, her hand moved from my ass to my hip and pulled me impossibly closer.

“I can take the heat, kitten,” I hissed as I leaned in and sucked on the spot just above her collar bone, biting slightly.

At the nick of my teeth against her skin, Melissa let out a strangled moan. Her fingers dug into my hips at the pet name, and her head tilted, giving me better access to her neck as she surrendered to my touch.

"Don’t think this changes anything," she managed to gasp out, her voice catching slightly as she tried to maintain her usual bravado.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I whispered the words between panting and kissing the skin I had just bruised. Melissa's eyelids fluttered closed as I continued on my southward path, a shiver running through her body as my breath ghosted over her skin. She arched her back again, pressing her breasts against me, the tension between us growing thicker by the second.

"Cocky little thing, aren't you?" She managed to gasp, her voice raspy with arousal. "I’ll have to put you in your place, hon."

I pulled away from her grip completely and met her eyes. “Do it. I dare you, Schemmenti.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened, the challenge hanging heavy in the air between us. She loved a good challenge, and my defiant smile only fueled her competitive nature. Without warning, her hands found my wrists, swiftly pinning me against the wall, the sound of a soft thump echoed in the empty classroom, her chest heaving slightly with the effort. "You want me to put you in your place, hon?" She murmured in a low, sinful tone. "Be careful what you wish for."

I yelped at the force. She was so close and I became instantly drunk off of her perfume. “Fuck. Me,” I growled.

Melissa let out a low, guttural moan at my words, the sound went straight to the pit of her stomach, and it took all her strength to maintain her control.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as her body pins me to the wall, her hips rocking slightly against my own. "Do you know what happens to naughty girls who make demands?" She whispered, her voice laced with desire. Her lips found my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to my exposed cleavage. I shook my head, unable to form words.

She grinned against my skin, as she continued to explore my sensitive spots. Her teeth graze against my earlobe, nibbling gently before she whispered, "They get punished, hon. And you've been nothing but naughty this whole time, haven’t you, little mouse?"

I couldn’t suppress the groan that erupted from within. “What are you gonna do, kitten? Spank me?”

She laughs a deep, throaty sound against your neck. Her lips continue their path back down to the crook of my shoulder, where she nips harder than before, her teeth making sure to leave a mark behind. "You’re so eager for it, aren’t you?" She whispered, her hand snaking up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. "You want me to put you over my knee, don’t you, little mouse?" My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as I drank in the moment and nodded in her hand.

Her hand tightened its grip on my chin, forcing my eyes back open, making sure I’m looking at her as she speaks. "Then say it." She commanded, her voice firm, but her eyes softened slightly. "Tell me you want me to punish you, baby."

I looked deep into her eyes, knowing just how I was going to unravel the woman. “I want you to punish me. I want you to bend me over your knee and spank me… mommy.”

Melissa’s lips parted in a soft gasp as the word ‘mommy’ spilled from my lips, her eyes momentarily filled with surprise as she felt a familiar wetness grow between her thighs. The look was gone within an instant, replaced by a heated look of hunger. "Oh, you’re playing dirty, aren’t you, baby?" She murmured, her voice taking on a lower, huskier tone. "You know just how to get me all worked up, don’t you, little mouse?"

I grinned wickedly at her as she dragged me over to her desk before she sat down. Melissa’s hands gripped my hips, positioning me over her lap and lifting my skirt, her eyes taking in the exposed skin of my ass. She could already feel a heat pooling in her belly as she looked at me, completely at her mercy. “You look so pretty like this, little mouse,” she purred, her hands caressing my skin. “I hope you know you’re in for a good, thorough spanking.”

I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. I rubbed my thighs, searching for friction as I waited for the spanking “Mmmmhm. I’ve been so bad for you, mommy,” I hummed.

Melissa’s eyes flicked down, noticing the way my thighs subtly rubbed together. She bit her lower lip, watching me like a predatory cat. "That’s right, baby. You’ve been a very bad girl," she murmured, her hand leaving my hip to trail upwards, tracing the curve of my spine. "And bad girls get spanked."

She brought her hand up and spanked my ass twice, gauging my reaction.

I let out a small gasp, my body jolting a bit on her lap as Melissa’s spank landed on my skin. The surprise quickly gave way to a low moan as I got used to the sting. Melissa watched my reaction closely, noting how I flinched and squirmed on her lap as the initial shock wore off. Her hand came down again, striking your my cheek, a bit harder this time. I rubbed my thighs together with each new smack, getting off on the punishment alone. “Mmm, fuck,” I breathed.

As the spanking continued, Melissa picked up on the growing desperation in my movements. Her hand connected with my ass again, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the empty classroom. "You really like this, don’t you, little mouse?" She moaned, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "You getting off on being punished by mommy?"

Her voice gave me butterflies. I’d never touched or been touched by Melissa before this, but it was my new favorite thing. “I do, you make me so wet, spanking me soooo good.”

Melissa’s hand came down hard on my ass once more, the firm smack sending a fresh wave of pleasure shuddering through my body. She let out a sharp exhale, watching as my body responds to her every touch. She growled again, her voice a low, sultry rumble, “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you, naughty little thing?”.

Melissa’s hand glided over my stinging skin, her touch a mix of gentle and firm. Her fingers ghosted over the curves of my ass, a light graze that’s hardly a touch. "I think you’ve had enough spanking for now," she murmured, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "But that doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet, mouse." She prodded me off of her lap and I followed direction.

I rose from her lap, my body slightly shaky from the combination of the spanking and the thrill of submitting to her. Melissa grinned, enjoying the effect she had on me. "Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her eyes dark with hunger. I again listened to instruction and got on my knees.

Melissa watched me as I sank to the floors, my submission making her heart race. She moved so that she was only inches from me, her body almost towering over me. Her fingers found my chin, tilting my head up to look at her.

"That’s better," she purred, her other hand tangling in my hair, her fingers grasping the strands and tugging gently. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

I looked up at her as she pulled my hair, eyes rolling back in my head slightly with the pleasure, moaning a little too loud. Melissa let out a low, sultry laugh as she watched the effect her actions on me. The sound of my moaning pleasure was music to her ears, fueling the fire burning deep inside her.

"Look at you, all desperate and needy," she whispered, her fingers wrapping tighter in my hair as she uses the strands to tilt my head back even further. "You love it, don’t you? Love being controlled by me."

I panted harder, absolute putty in her hands, “Yes mommy, I love being your little mouse, the way you play with me makes me feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened even further, feral hunger taking over her composure. She used her grip on my hair to pull my head further back, exposing the expanse of your neck to her.

"Oh, I know you do, little mouse," she replied, her voice taking on a low, dangerous tone. "You’re practically dripping for me, aren’t you?" Her free hand suddenly reached out, gripping my throat, her fingers wrapped just tight enough to create a delicious pressure.

My eyes rolled back again as I leaned into her hand on my throat.

Melissa watched me closely, admiring how willing and pliable I was in her hands. The sound of my moans, the arch of my body as I leaned into her grasp, it only made her want to tease and taunt me further. "You really are a naughty thing," she whispered, her fingers applying a slight squeeze to my throat. "So desperate, just aching for my touch."

I reached forward and unbuttoned her pants then grabbed ahold of her hips and pulled her forward. Face to face with her crotch, I found her pants zipper and grabbed it with my teeth, pulling it down. “God I want you so bad, kitten.”

Melissa let out a gasp as I unbuttoned her pants, her body moving forward almost involuntarily. She looked down, her eyes watching as you pull the zipper down with your teeth, the sight sending a shiver up her spine. "Aren’t we eager," she comments, her voice slightly breathless. Her fingers once again tangle in your hair, guiding you forward as she speaks. "Go ahead then, baby. Have a taste."

I pulled her underwear down along with her pants in one tug. “Mmmm, I see the carpet matched the drapes,” I giggled as I took in the sight of her bare in front of me.

Melissa let out a low chuckle as she stepped out of her clothing, eyes never leaving me for a second. "Of course it does, little mouse," she laughed, her fingers still holding your hair in a firm grip. "And you’re just about to get a very close up look, aren’t you, hon?"

I smiled up at her, hunger in my eyes. I caressed her inner thigh before venturing further to her core. I dipped my fingers into her folds and moaned at what I found. “Oh mommy, you’re so wet for me,” I breathed in a sultry tone.

Melissa moaned aloud, the touch causing her to let out a shuddering breath. And when I moved my fingers between her folds, the sensation combined with my moan caused her to grip tighter on my hair, pulling my face closer to where she needed me most.

"Mmm, baby, you have no idea just how worked up you’ve made me," she whispered, her voice thick with want.

“God, you’re so hot, kitten,” I groaned. I took the direction to lean forward, and with a flat tongue I licked the sweetness that built up from out little game.

Melissa’s grip tightened further on my hair, her knuckles going white as I begin tease her entrance and begin circling her clit with a pointed tongue. Her hips jerked forward towards my mouth instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "God, you’re such a good little mouse," she moaned, her breathing already going ragged. "Don’t you dare stop, baby."

I hummed against her, “You taste so good, mommy. So sweet for me.”

My tongue’s contact with her sensitive spot caused a full-body shudder to wrack her frame. A guttural, animalistic moan escaped her throat as she rocked her hips forward, desperate for more of my touch. "Oh, baby, you’re doing so well. Feels so good," she gasped, her breathing becoming more laboured with each passing moment. "Keep going, keep going, please…"

I smiled at her words. Her little red curls tickled my nose as I sucked and licked harder and faster, looking up at her through lashes to watch her face. Melissa’s head fell back as I increased my pace, her grip on my hair becoming almost painfully tight. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensations washed over her, the combination of my tongue and lips driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Oh God, darling, don’t stop, don’t stop," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. Her hips rolled forward, seeking more of my touch, desperate to reach the peak. "Just like that… oh just like that…"

I continued to work on her clit, but made eye contact and wiggled two fingers at her in a come hither motion, a questioning look in my eye. She nodded her want and guided my free hand to her entrance. I covered my fingers in her juices once more and entered her with full force.

Her body tensed as you entered her, the unexpected force making her gasp harshly. Her chest heaved as she gripped a new handful of my hair, her teeth biting her lower lip as she adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"Oh God, that’s it, baby. Mmmm fill mommy up," she moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. "Keep going, oh don’t you dare stop now…". Melissa let out another low moan as I continued to pump my fingers within her, her grip on my hair growing tighter by the second. Her breath came in ragged breaths, her body trembling with pleasure.

"God, yes, darling," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "You feel so good… you make me feel so good."

Her body became taut as a bowstring, every muscle tense as she edged closer and closer to release, holding my face to her center as she rides the waves of pleasure. "Oh God, I’m so close, baby," she said in a desperate whisper. "Keep going, just a little more… oh just a little more…"

With her words of encouragement, I flicked my tongue faster over her clit and found just the right spot inside to make her come undone. Her legs began to shake and I knew she was ready. “Come for me, kitten.”

Her body tensed even further as I fucked her faster, harder, her muscles coiled as tight as a spring. And then, with a loud, guttural moan, she finally succumbed to the pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. "Oh God… oh God… yes, that’s it baby," she gasped, her eyes closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh… oh… yes, oh yes… oh yes, yes, yessss…" I caught her as she lost the ability to stand upright, gently bringing her down to my level. “Fuck, Mel, that was hot,” I muttered between panting.

She collapses into my arms, her body boneless and trembling. She let out a low, throaty laugh as she leaned against me, trying to catch her breath.

"That… that was incredible, hon" she managed between gasps from the aftershocks. "You are too damn good at that." I kissed her temple gently, the first gentle act since the whole thing started.

Melissa leaned further into my touch, her body still trembling slightly as she came down from the high of her release. Her eyes fluttered shut as my lips brushed her temple, a small smile on her lips. "I don’t remember the last time I’ve come that hard," she said, her voice still a bit shaky. "You really know how to push my buttons, don’t ya, kid?"

I winked at her and kissed her lips. “Just as you know how to push mine… I’m still dripping for you, mommy…”

Melissa let out a sultry chuckle as she kissed me back. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting herself on my lips. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as she pressed her body against mine. "Mmhm. I know you are, little mouse," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. "And I intend to take care of that problem."

I moaned as her tongue darted into my mouth again. Melissa’s grip on me tightened as she adjusted her position over me. She broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting our lips as she grinned down at me. "Oh, darling, there are so many things I could do to you," she purred, her hand slowly trailing down my body. "But for now, I want to see you undone, just like I was."

Her hands on my body felt like fire and I wanted more. I tore my shirt off and pulled down my skirt. “I’m not far from it, kitten.” Melissa’s eyes roamed over my body as I removed my clothes, her gaze dark with hunger. She took a moment to admire the sight of my body, before she reached up to caress my bare skin with her hands.

"God, you’re just as gorgeous as I dreamed you would be," she hummed, her voice filled with awe. Her fingers traced the lines of my curves, her touch gentle and yet possessive.

I cocked my head and gave her a confused smile. “You’ve dreamed about me? About this? I thought you hated me,” I half whined.

Melissa chuckled, her fingers continuing their journey across my skin. There was a hint of amusement in her tone as she answered me. "Oh hon, I don’t hate you. I never hated you," she said, her voice soft. "It’s more like you pushed all my buttons and got under my skin. But let me tell you, there’s a fine line between rage and desire. Seems like you found it." Melissa captured my neck in a love bite, caressing my breast with one hand and my ass with the other. She moaned against my skin as she tasted me, her tongue gliding over the now-marked flesh. My entire body shivered with want and she grinned against my neck as she felt your reaction, her grip on you strong and possessive. My head fell back as I gave myself completely over to her.

Melissa’s tongue followed the line of my neck down to my collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. She pulled me closer, her body pressed completely against mine as her hands continued to caress and explore. "You’re doing so well, baby girl," she mumbled against my skin, her voice thick. "Just relax." Melissa maneuvered her thigh between my legs and I immediately rolled my hips down.

The redhead let out a moan as my wetness dripped down onto her thigh, her own body responding to the action. Her hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as she watched me move against her. "Oh, mouse, you’re so responsive," she purred, her voice low with desire. "You’re already begging for it, aren’t you?" I bit my lip and nodded sharply

“I need you mommy, I want you inside me,” I growled, sending electric waves down her spine.

Her eyes flashed with desire as I bit admitted my need. She grinned wickedly as she responded, her hands running up and down my back.

"Such an impatient little mouse," she murmured. "But who is mommy to deny you what you want? Just be careful what you wish for, baby." Melissa snaked her hand down to my core and thumbed over my aching clit with ease.

I hissed in pleasure at the contact if been waiting for, “Yessssss mmmm…”

She watched my face as she touched me, a smug grin on her lips as she saw the effect she had on me. "Does that feel good, little mouse?" she purred, her voice lower than usual. "You like it when mommy takes care of you?"

I bucked my hips further into her hand, leaving her palm wet, again unable to form words. Her hand remained firmly against me, her thumb continuing to tease my sensitive spot. She smirked as she felt the evidence of my desire on her palm, and she increased the pressure of her touch. "You’re so eager for me, baby," she husked, her voice thick with arousal. "I can feel how much you need this. How badly you want me to take care of you, right here, right now."

I groan loud, needing more, “Inside, please.” Melissa’s smirk widened at my plea, satisfaction coursing through. She pulled me closer, her lips just a breath away from my own.

"What do you want inside, baby?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “I need to hear you say it."

I looked into her eyes, hungry for release. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers until you make me come.”

A low groan escaped Melissa at my words, her body responding to my need. Her hand slid lower, her fingers teasing at my entrance. She captured my face with her other hand, her grip firm as she forced me to meet her gaze. "You’re being so good for me, little mouse." Melissa’s fingers at my entrance drove me wild. I’d been on the edge of an orgasm since the first kiss, I was so sensitive and ready for her. I moaned and bucked, writhing under her touch. “Please please please, I need y-” I gasped as she filled me with two fingers. “F-f-fuck I’m already so close, you feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes nearly went black with lust, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she took in the sight of me. She ran the fingers of her other hand down my cheek, her touch gentler now. "Oh no, hon. You don’t get to come just yet," she husked, her voice low and raspy. "Not until I say so. So be a good little mouse and hold on for me."

I nodded, holding in my release as she inserted a third and final finger, filling me up completely. “OH! Ohhhh yessss yes yes!”

She watched my face, taking in every expression and whimper. Her tone still commanding, yet also soothing she says, "That’s it, little mouse, hold it for me," her breath warm against my skin. "Just a bit longer. You’re being so good for me. I know you can do this." She pumped her fingers at just the right speed, hitting that spot just right.

“Mel, I’m so c-close,” I whined, my face scrunching in focus.

Melissa kept her pace and angle, hitting the spot repeatedly as she watched me grow closer and closer to the edge. Her face flushed, and her own breath now came in pants as she worked me towards release. "Just hold on a little longer, baby," she whispered. "You’re doing so well. You feel so tight and hot around my fingers, so good. Just a few more moments, and then I’ll let you come. Just a few more moments, I promise."

Her words drove me crazy, the heat building up was almost too much to bear. I leaned down and bit her shoulder, using it as a distraction to keep me from going over the edge without permission. “Mmmmm-mommy please,” I begged as I rode her fingers.

Her breath hitched as I bit down on her shoulder, the sting of pain adding to her arousal. "Not yet, little mouse," she growled, her voice gruff and commanding. "You’re being such a good girl, but you have to wait for my permission. Just a little longer. Almost there." Melissa felt my body tensing, sensing just how close I was to release.

My eyes rolled back and I almost went limp in her arms. Melissa watched as I grew more boneless, my body riding her fingers more on instinct than anything else. "That’s it, baby girl, ride them just like that," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being so good for me. But not yet. Not yet. Just hold on a little while longer."

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh mommy, please let me come, I can’t hold it anymore,” I cried as her thumb met my clit again.

Melissa looked up at my face, her own expression filled with need and awe at the control I exerted over my body. She knew she’d pushed me to the limit. She grinned, her eyes roaming over my body. "You’ve been such a good little mouse," she said huskily . "You’ve held on for so long. You’re so good. So desperate. I think you’ve earned permission now, don’t you?" All I could do was gasp and moan in response.

She knew I’d held on as long as I could, and she wasn’t going to make me wait anymore. "Come for me, baby girl," she ordered, her voice firm. "You’ve earned it, mouse. Let go. Now."

My orgasm washed over me with an intensity I’d never experienced before, and it felt even better knowing Melissa Schemmenti got me there. “OHHH fuck! Oh yes! Yes yes yessss! Mmmm oh God, Melissa!” I trembled and shook as I collapsed in her arms, completely out of breath.

Melissa watched as I let go and held me close as I came down, her eyes wide with awe at the intensity of my release. The feel of me trembling and shaking against her brought a smug grin to her face, her own arousal ramping up again at the sight of my pleasure. "That’s my good little mouse," she cooed, placing gentle kisses on my cheek and in my hair. "You came so hard for me, I’m so proud of you."

“Good God, Melissa,” I said between pants, still coming down from my high, “holy shit.”

Melissa held me tight as you rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm, her arms wrapped around me as I come back down to earth. She chuckled softly as she listened to my shaky breaths and shaky voice. "That good, huh?" she teased, her voice smug. "I guess that means you enjoyed yourself."

I lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her through half lidded eyes, “I don’t think I can ever fuck anyone else now.”

Melissa smiled at my words, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hands moved across my back as she watched me catch my breath. "Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that," she husked, a smug grin on her lips. "After all, I don’t like sharing my toys."

My eyes closed as I smiled at her remark. “Kiss me?”

Melissa chuckled at my request, her lips curving up at the corners. She cupped my face with one hand and drew me closer, her eyes locking with my own as she leaned in. "Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and sultry. And then her lips were on mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a sharp contrast to the entirety of our escapade.

I glanced at the clock as our lips parted. “Think we should get outta here? I’m sure Mr. Johnson’s been ready to lock up for a while now.”

Melissa hums, her eyes still closed as she savored the sweetness of the kiss. When she finally opened them, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a soft chuckle. "We should probably head out. But we're definitely resuming this back at my place."

There was a flash of hunger in both of our eyes and I licked my lips. “Oh yeah? Then let’s get goin’.” I tossed her her pants and got myself dressed, straightening my hair and smeared makeup in the reflection of the window.

Melissa laughed as she caught her pants and quickly pulled them on. She watched me tidy myself up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She could tell I was eager to get back to her place, and she felt the same way. "Can’t believe you’re still trying to make yourself presentable after what we just did," she teased.

I blushed a deep red. “Not for you, just in case we happen upon Mr. Johnson on the way out!” I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her again.

Melissa smiled against my lips, enjoying the feeling of being in my arms. She wrapped her own arms around me, pulling me close as she kissed me deeply. "You’re adorable," she mumbled when the kiss ended, her eyes flicking over to the door. "And smart. Let’s get out of here before Mr. Johnson catches us."

I giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed her wrist, “C’mon, kitten! We have things to do.”

The redhead followed me out into the hallway, her hand in mine. The nickname "kitten" made her heart flutter, and she matched my pace easily as we headed towards the car."You're in a rush, aren't you?" She teased as she glanced at me, a sly smile on her lips. "Can't wait to get me home and all alone, huh?"

I bit my lip and gave her a mischievous grin. “God Mel, I’m already dying for round two.” I winked at her and we rounded the corner to see Mr. Johnson standing there with his mop in hand, staring us down.

Melissa's eyes went wide as we came face to face with Mr. Johnson. As he stood there it became increasingly obvious he knew what happened in that classroom, and he was not mincing words. "Out a little late tonight, aren't we ladies?" he asked gruffly, his eyes moving from you to Melissa and back again. Both of our faces matched Melissa’s hair in that moment.

“$50 and you tell no one, Mr. J…” I offered, hoping to save us from some embarrassment in the teachers lounge.

Mr. Johnson considered it for a moment, his expression stern. Then he let out a small laugh and extended his hand. "$50 and my lips are sealed," he said. "But this better not become a regular occurrence, you hear me?"

I took my wallet out and handed him a crisp $50 bill, then mock saluted him. “Yes sir!”

Mr. Johnson pocketed the bribe money and nodded at me in acknowledgement. He turned his gaze to Melissa, his expression still stern. "You’re a terrible influence, Schemmenti," he huffed. "That poor girl didn’t stand a chance."

Mr. Johnson watched as Melissa tried to suppress her laugh, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. He shook his head and pointed his mop in her direction. "You’re a menace," he grumbled. "Now get outta here before I change my mind about keeping quiet."

I pulled Melissa’s arm and started walking very quickly to the exit. “Thanks, Mr. J! See ya Monday!” We didn’t stop until we got to Melissa’s car.

“The whole school is gonna know, aren’t they,” I asked as I buckled into the passenger seat.

Melissa cackled, her face still red with embarrassment. "Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Mr. Johnson couldn’t resist the bribe money, but he’s definitely the biggest gossip at Abbott. They’ll probably know by breakfast tomorrow, and if not then by Monday morning guaranteed.” She settled into her seat and started the car as she buckled in. I gave her a look of disbelief.

“You coulda told me and saved me $50! You so owe me, Schemmenti!” I smacked her arm and then placed my hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly.

“Definitely thinking of ways I can make it up to you…,” Her pupils dilated as she took my hand in hers. My head fell back in another laugh.

“Then step on it, Jeeves!”

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x female oc #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti #mr johnson

81 notes · View notes