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softquietsteadylove · 7 months

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Helloooo!! ✨🖤

I thought about something for the Zombie AU.

After Thena dragged Gil to the hospital they (Ajak and Sersi maybe) discovered Gil had an infection or something and he's out like a light for a few weeks, recovering. Meanwhile Thena insist to sit by his side but Ajak(?) insists that she has to recover too. Thena is dehydrated, starving and weak. One day she collapses and after they took care of her, they tied her to a bed so she finally can recover.

Hugs and Love ✨🖤

She had carried Gil all the way here to the hospital. People came out to help them, carried him in for her. She didn't have the strength to go after him.

When she had first woken up, she had managed to find her way to Gil's side again. An infection, they said--a rusty little cut on his finger or something trivial that she should have known about sooner. Supposedly he would pull through just fine, but she couldn't be as sure as they were.

Then she had collapsed.

"Please," Thena gulped, her throat still dry as a bone, "please, just let me see him."

The doctor kept working around her, checking on this and that.

"Please," Thena rasped again, determined to get them to listen to her if her vocal cords bled dry. "I have to see Gil."

"What you have to do is rest."

Thena pried her eyes more open. It wasn't the shorter doctor who seemed to be in charge of this place. This one was taller, younger--she was obviously also a doctor, but maybe worked for the other one. "What's your name?"

The doctor glared at her, walking a little more into the light that was shining down on Thena (despite the rest they so clearly believed she needed). "You want names now?"

Thena shrugged.

The doctor put her chart of whatever down and looked at her. "Do you remember how you got here?"

"You mean," Thena lifted her wrist--as much as she could, of course, with her wrists and ankles restrained. "Here?"

"What do you remember?"

Thena sighed, swallowing again. She raised her brows as the doctor came forward with a bottle of water, tipping it up for her to take a few well controlled sips. "Thank you."

She capped it again, nodding in a silent promise to offer more when she had her answers.

Thena cleared her throat and tugged faintly at the restraints again. They had a fair amount of slack on them, so they couldn't have thought she was that dangerous. "I...I remember getting Gil here. He'd had a fever for a week already, and I knew I had to get him where people were."

"He was severely dehydrated when you got in, had one hell of a fever and needed antibiotics for an infection," the doctor listed off. "You're lucky I worked in pharmacology. We got him what he needed, you know. He'll pull through."

That didn't do her any goddamn good if she couldn't see him with her own eyes.

"You collapsed."

Thena looked at the doctor again, who looked pissed at her, if anything. She shrugged again, "being out there isn't easy. It's-"

"You gave all your water to him--your food too, I imagine," Doctor Sassy hypothesized (correctly). She looked at Thena again, "you were just as exhausted as he was. You're restrained because you kept getting up to go see him and I found you collapsed in the hallway."

She couldn't sleep. She had been trying, and Doctor Crabby was right, she was exhausted. But unconsciousness only lasted so long, and when she was awake, she couldn't think of anything but Gil's well-being.

"I often couldn't sleep," Thena began, staring up at the hospital ceiling while offering what she could to Doctor Pissy, "out on the road. Gil and I...we found each other by accident. But we could stick together. I got used to having him around."

Doctor Stink-Eye actually softened at that, maybe able to relate to some part of it. She tilted her head at her, coming a little closer, "you can't relax without him here."

Thena didn't exactly confirm it--seemed like damning information to give these people she didn't entirely trust. She tilted her head on her pillow as the doctor came into the light. She had gentle eyes. "We had only each other out there."

Doctor Doe-Eyes nodded, offering a sympathetic little twitch of her lips. She had beauty marks. "My husband is part of the team who goes out for perimeter checks and supply runs, here. I worry about him out there. I can't imagine what it's like."

If she had to hazard a guess, Thena had to assume it was the tall and gruff sounding one with the accent she remembered from when Gil was carried inside.

"We mean no harm, truly," she tried to get through to Thena, leaning further over the bed. "I know it seems excessive, but staying stationary, having this many people here...it's a big risk when we take in new people. Even if they're seeking help."

Thena supposed she might understand that. Outsiders all had the same instinct for survival that people living with a certain amount of security simply didn't have. Or it wasn't as sharpened, at least. And they would have to be wary of those using the hospital's good will as a weakness and way to infiltrate their populace. "That's why I'm tied up?"

Doctor Huffy frowned and gave one of the restraints a tug. "No, you're tied up because I couldn't trust you not to get up and walk back to your husband in this state."

"He's not," Thena started and then stopped, coughing again. Her throat was still raw from going so long without water, only to then scream at the top of her lungs for help.

"Okay, okay," Doctor Softie soothed, tilting up more water for her. "Either way, I couldn't have you wandering around unattended. Ajak frowns upon it, for good reason."

Ajak must have been the shorter doctor Thena remembered on the other side of her when she was dragged in after Gil.

Thena swallowed more precious water before looking at the doctor. more awake, more hydrated, her eyes were clearer--the doctor was around her age, maybe a little younger. "What's your name?"

"Sersi." It was a very lovely name, for a lovely woman. "And you're Thena."

She bristled.

But Sersi gave her a more smug look, tipping her chin up, "Gil has awoken, you know--a few times."

Thena felt her eyes widen, a manic energy rushing through her veins, "he...and you didn't tell-!"

Sersi leaned away just enough, given the restraints. She pursed her lips, "it was never for very long, and he was still nearly delirious with fever."

Thena eyed the woman. Sersi may not have been out in the world like she was, but she obviously wasn't naive in any way. "So, why tell me?"

"I know your name because that's all he could say," Sersi raised her brows at her. "He would wake for a few minutes at a time, and yet we wouldn't even know his name was Gil if you hadn't said it. All he could get out was 'Thena', and 'where is Thena?', and 'I need to get back to her'. It's rather sweet, actually."

Thena laid (collapsed) against the pillow again, blinking as her tears collected in her eyelashes like morning dew on leaves. She could hear his voice in her head now, the sweet, gentle giant. She certainly wouldn't let anything stop her from trying to find him. Well, nothing but some leather restraints, that was to say.

"Nearly threw Kingo across the room in his hysteria," Sersi continued to mumble. "We had to use a sedative on him."

Thena squirmed. "He's not really a fighter--truly. He just...forgets how strong he really is sometimes. He didn't mean any harm."

Sersi smiled at her, maybe amused by her apologising for Gil's actions. "Ajak wants you separated, and for good reason."

Thena waited eagerly for the metaphorical 'but' to follow.

"But I might be able to convince her to let me move you into his room," Sersi didn't so much as promise but postulated. But she had to admit that the self-assured smirk on her face suited Doctor Snippy. "If you think you can behave."

Thena nodded eagerly, all but forgetting about her bound limbs, "anything."

Doctor Sersi nodded, getting ready to leave Thena for the rest of her nightly duties. She picked up the water bottle for one last offering, "can you tell me...?"

Thena merely waited. She had promised anything in exchange for seeing Gil again, as much as this didn't seem to be part of those conditions.

"He's not your husband," she concluded, even though Thena never actually verbalised her denial of it. "So then...what are you? If I may--I mean, what is he to you?"

Thena looked at Sersi. She could just tell her that this didn't seem like pertinent information for her to have, as their doctor. But she sighed, "everything. Gil is absolutely everything to me."

Sersi offered solemnity, tipping up the water for her, "I suppose you have no choice out-"

"No." Thena was almost as surprised as Sersi when she cut her off in the middle of speaking. But she continued, "it's not just that. He...Gil is good. Everything about him is right when the rest of the world is wrong. He's the best thing left in it, now, and I...I just want to protect that."

"I was an auditor, Sersi," she professed, the words all but spilling out of her like a broken water line. She sounded like Gil. "I worked a boring office job, had no life outside of it, didn't think of calling a single person when everything happened. I never did anything to put any good out into the world. But I can keep Gil in it."

Either she was astonished by Thena's speech, or she heard ones just like it all the time; either way, Sersi smiled. "Just a little longer, Thena. I promise, I'll do everything in my power to help you see him again."

Thena laid back, looking up at the ceiling again. Waiting was easier said than done, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter either. She did feel remotely better, having a potential ally in Doctor Sersi. She closed her eyes, hoping that next time she opened them, that she could see Gil.

#Thenamesh Zombie AU #I love seeing this AU come back #also this is what I'm talking about #Thena will deliver a speech like this #will say #I never put anything good out into the world but I can keep him in it #but then be like we're not together why do you think that?#of course he's not my husband #he's just my entire reason for living and purpose in life #all things good in the world and the only source of happiness I have #but we're not like boyfriend and girlfriend #I just live to see him take his next breath #anyway what's for breakfast in this hellhole?#and then Gil wakes up none the wiser and is like oh Thena!#hey strangers listen thanks for helping me and my murder wife #Sersi doesn't correct any of the notes and charts and mentions of the new travellers #this mysterious Gil and the woman who brought him in #that must be the Thena he keeps asking for #that must be his wife #and Sersi is like...yes

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sashimiyas · 1 year

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#tw discourse #i’m gonna say an unpopular opinion once and then be on my way again #sometimes i see something on here that makes me upset and then i think #‘i really need to be on here less.’ but then i realize… i rarely use the app as it is #but writers love to say ‘we don’t get paid to write. we are not machines.’ all valid points #bc entitlement is frustrating. bc this is meant to be a community of natural engagement and interaction #i want to specify Natural #bc i see those same writers bash their followers for not like rbing or commenting #as if they are getting paid to follow the author! and that isn’t fair either #writers ask for grace when they are going through writers block or a difficult episode in their life #and our followers cannot ask for the same? sometimes we do not feel like reading. and let’s admit it. not every post will be a banger #and that should be fine too. no one should be guilted to interact with anyone #and i think my whole discomfort with using this site lately is how every interaction is being policed #like do we not assume good intentions anymore? can we not assume that someone is rbing without tags but will put something in later #when they do get a chance to read it? or that they are liking because they want to read it but just dont have the time yet?#anyways. i’ll probably come back to delete this #but man. anyone who follows me. i want you to know that i will do my best to never try and make you feel bad for choosing how to interact #with this blog. outside of not responding to my inbox bc that’s just been difficult for me lately.#please have a comfortable experience and go about this stupid little hellhole in peace #don’t feel coerced to interact with me unless you want to. don’t apologize to me for not having reached out to me in a while #it’s okay. please have your fun in any way you want #i say this bc before being a writer i am a reader

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djsherriff-responses · 4 months

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Suburban Punk

It’s like Cyberpunk but you’re not in a walkable city everything interesting is too far from you. There’s barely any public transit and the bus requires a 20 min walk.

Sometimes a random animal from the remaining forests that wasn’t cut down finds its way into your neighborhood and you just watch it.

So basically it’s American?

#asks #ask me #Maybe it’s a uk thing but the idea of “walkable” cities is so weird to me #What do you mean you guys don’t just walk outside and immediately find a bus stop or metro nearby?#Do Americans have corner shops? I heard the lawns over there don’t even have real grass or even that big?#The Uk is a hellhole on its own to be clear but hearing about America is so surreal sometimes

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yay-depression · 1 year

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thinking unhappy thoughts at 1 am except these can’t even be categorized into the “no feelings past 4pm in winter are real” bc it wasn’t inherently a negative thought it was a positive thought which upon saying aloud sounded really fucking sad

#i was thinking about how nice it was to meet someone i met this past week #and how great it felt and how i felt like we clicked so instantly #and then i was like #‘huh wonder why most social interactions feel this good to me?’#and then i realized the difference was that this person actively introduced themselves to me and started conversation #as opposed to just about 90% of the social interactions i partake in which involve me sitting alone and being ignored #until i stand up and try and butt into some of my friends conversations in some way #anyways just thinking about how very few people seem to want to interact with me #nothing like real world experiences feeding into the deep-seeded belief i have that i’m inherently unloveable #and also that i’m inherently annoying but everyone is just too nice to tell me #i am not joking when i say i genuinely have trauma from being a neurodivergent person in the midwest #going from a life of ‘if people don’t like me they will tell me’ to ‘everyone seems to not like me but won’t say anything’#as a child was a traumatic experience and created intense feelings of inadequacy and trust issues #which i was already really vulnerable to bc i was emotionally abused as a kid #so combine having a dad who says everything you do is wrong no matter how hard you try #with friends who refuse to say what you’re doing wrong but will hold grudges against it and will be mad at you for it #but every time you ask them they say ‘no we’re not mad!’#plus literally like a decade of me trying to make friends in this fucking hellhole of a town and getting basically nothing but laughed at #and you can see why having a good social interaction for once is actually really fucking upsetting #because HOLY SHIT is that what life is SUPPOSED TO BE??#you’re telling me most interactions i have with people make me feel bad not bc i have social anxiety but because i’m giving it 110%#and i’m getting back maybe 10%???#anyways it’s wishing i didn’t live in this shithole place with these shitty people hours #and wishing the world was fucking nicer to me when i was a kid bc it was so rough for 13 year old me for no goddamn reason #every day is another day of realizing i literally didn’t have a time in my life when things weren’t falling apart #until i was literally 17 #kristen

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hollypies · 1 year

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AA I LOVE HOLLOW CELLS LOOKS SO COOL AUGH

I'm getting. Steam giftcards for Christmas so I will finally be able to get it!! ^^

OOOO UR GONNA GET DEAD CELLS???? I hope you can get the DLCs too its!!it's!!! Literally so fun!!!

And im gladnyou like my Hollow Cells au! I am. So normal about it

#holly answers #cozones beloved hellhole #hi hi!!#hii Cozone hi!#please ask me questions about hollow cells i prommy i will be normal #did you read my holllow cells fic too? just askin cuz i want feedback

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ai-thne · 2 years

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can't believe someone still has to say this but if you, a cis straight girl, fancy yourself for having so many friends who are gay men, but think that that makes you entitled to say the f slur and act weird around my partner and i (lesbians) when we're there talking to our mutual friend, you're a bigot in rainbow clothes.

#yelling into the void #sorry this sounds like i should have posted it in 2015 because by now the whole point of this post is obvious to everybody #but unfortunately i live in a backwards hellhole of a country so we still have an abundance of people like this and it still makes me mad #because ok time to rant #couple days ago my friends and partner and i all went to a festival together #we go every year and it's always great fun #except this year a couple of our friends decided to invite their own friends from out of the region too #i personally don't know those people but you do you i mean i have abandonment issues but they don't really apply in this case #(i still felt like shit thinking about how they went around more with those people than us their friends of several years but ok)#also i don't really remember if they asked us if it was ok if those people were coming or not but i digress #either way yeah they were fine with us not really liking this one girl that was coming because„„#you know the popular high school girl stereotype?#yeah #she's unable to admit being at fault too and the person i'm vaguing in the text above #because girl you can't just straight up go silent and look at my partner with that fucking face (even i can tell) once we show up #we were on queue for food too lmao it's not like i'm here to annoy you i'm hungry #if i could go somewhere else i'd go there but yk #i have food allergies and more than two vendors here don't know if their fry oil could send me flying into anaphylaxis so #so anyway. went quiet when my partner and i showed up and whispered to who i assume was her shitty bf while i talked #as if i talked more than 500 words the whole festival #i felt like shit and i hope to god she lives with the uncomfortable feeling of knowing that she can't fool my partner and i with her facade #i made fun of it once i realized (in private) but then it just faded into bitterness

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disastergay · 2 years

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so do you think it's ok for people to ship problematic things

nah, sorry but we're not gonna do this.

find somebody else to discuss the ethics of shipping with. if me setting strict boundaries & refusing to talk about this particular issue is a deal breaker for you, then you can go ahead and leave.

#asks #anons #I didn't get suicide baited at age 16 just for asking *why* a ship I used to like was problematic #and then get chased off my own damn blog TWICE just because people spread rumors about me shipping fr*ns #which I don't (not that I should be forced to explain that in excruciating detail)#just for y'all to drag me back into that hellhole #'pro' this 'anti' that #please just leave me the fuck alone #rant /#vent /#discourse //

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jrueships · 2 years

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“Pg stabs kawhi kills him dead lol” HELP? I need this wip to get finished sadly.

Pg ^^^^

BUT YEAH the picture of dorian gray fic au is certainly. One of my wips 😭😭😭 it was the kinda wip where i went wild with the idea and style and typed it all up thinkin 'yea this go hard yea yea post it' then had to stop for life purposes, forgot about it, went back to it, and realized wtf wrong with me 😭 i think it was just the overall fanciness of the words used or smthin idk smthin abt the way i wrote it pissed me off so i might rewrite it better or smthin out of spite LMAO 😭 there might be a chance!!!!!!! I say this knowing i just killed all chances possible

HERES THwait wtf??? My thing still says brad beal subpregnancy wtf????? I keep trying to change that????? Man what the hell? Tumblr got me strugglin whatever i guess this is a telltale sign to the ppl what content they're in for tho (gay posts about poor delusional skrunklies)

ANYWAYS here's some INFO abt it !!! I hope this helped satiate some of your desires to see kawhi get his ass beat for being downbad for a man with the personality equivalent of a cardboard boyband member 😭😭

#i think i am trapped in the eternal hellhole where i think of batshit aus and write them in a flash #then actually reread my writing to make sure the au lines up #and realize how batshit insane the idea is and how no one will read it and the style stinks and i cant be normal #so i just let it rot after writing so much 😭#im sorry for being insane in the membrane i didnt have a favorite chipmunk i liked the evil bald villain ian 😭😭#SO YEA thats like my bad EXPLANATION for why i just. never show my au fics #BUT I LIKE THE AU SO I LIKE TALKING ABOUT IT BUT THE IDEA OF BRINGING IT TO LIFE IS BETTER THAN REALIZING IT'S GONNA BE IN LIFE 😭#AND IT'S NOT LIKE PEOPLE DONT SUPPORT THEM? CUS THEY DO??? i make them with my Powers but #they DO #so i hype ppl up for smthin i end up keeping locked up in my dungeon cave never to be seen #i should rlly just post smthin without thinking of the consequences 😭#i rlly do appreciate all the positive feedbacks to my ideas!!!! im so sorry i cant get myself to polish the content to RLLY create it rn 😭#IN THE SUMMER... WHO KNOWS... MAYBE BOREDOM WILL MAKE ME CARELESS?#anyways i just wanted to explain the already explained basically 😭#the summers are when the ted thrives #prommy <3333 #ted asks #pg/kawhi #answering asks from five hundred years ago? blasphemous bee behavior!!!

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slippery-minghus · 8 months

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ough. just more or less laid a boundary with my best friend and it feels really bittersweet. good because i did it instead of taking the passive route that would make me uncomfortable, but bad because i don't want to hurt their feelings... but good again bc maybe if i start having better boundaries with them, they'll realize there's some stakes to continuing the shit they're doing..?

#i love them but there's just not a solid piece of motivation in them to take any initiative towards bettering themselves #like. i get that they're struggling and that's real and valid #but there's struggling and trying to do something about it and then there's struggling and wallowing in it #and they're so caught up in learned helplessness that they just keep making bad decision after bad decision #and even though they know that it messes them up they keep getting high #and i'm pretty sure they're due to get drug tested by their doctor soon exactly for this #and they keep getting high bc it's the only way they can cope with the hellhole job they refuse to leave #and even though there are things being handed to them to find other options they won't take them #and i think today they crossed a line #we were about to hang out for our weekly discord call (which 60% of the time they bail on bc they're too fried from work)#and they were like wait. i'm still high. didn't think i still would be by now.#and they asked if i was okay still hanging out #and my first instinct was of course as long as they wanted to #but i couldn't do it. i'd either wanna be high with them which i can't do or it would just be kinda awkward #and it's bad enough being their vent board for work drama when they're sober #i couldn't say yes. so i gently said we'll hang out next week with a heart and #some lighthearted texting back and forth. but. going with the flow with them does wear on me #i know they're time blind but i also know the time blindness is worse bc they're always high. i know they don't intend to hurt my feelings #but them always being late to our hangouts when they do show does really feel like they don't value my time or ours together #especially bc our schedules don't line up well and i always end up staying up an hour late when we hang out #i really wanna have a candid talk with them about it and i don't think they'd ditch me over it or get mad at me but...#i just don't want to hurt them. even if a lot of it is their own doing they have a lot on their plate #it puts me in a tough spot which isn't fair. theyir best friend shouldn't hurt them but who else should call them out on their bullshit?#maybe in a day or two. i'll start with something small. i'll refresh my memory on DEAR MAN and stuff #fuck. bc who better for me to test my own challenges at having better boundaries on than my friend who's also struggling #having better boundaries is one of the few things i really have stagnated on and won't take initiative to heal so if i want them #to do the same i need to set an example #personal #and. well. guess i get to play halo tonight after all

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wannabe-all · 1 year

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God I can't believe this. Carnival is approaching here and of course kids dress up in costumes, guess what costume have the teachers picked this year. AFRICAN TRIBES. LIKE DUDE WHAT THE FUCK YOU PIECE OF SHIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?! Oh, and that's not the worst part, THEY ARE GOING TO MAKE THEM DANCE AND SING. Dance and sing african songs (I don't know which, I don't even know what tribe they want to use as a base but hell no) I can't believe it, well I can but it's still indignant. I am not black nor come from a tribe but I'm an immigrant in this country and I have faced my own little struggles regarding my cultural background and identity (obviously I can't compare with what POC have to face, this isn't about me) honestly if my culture was butchered and used like a costume I'd commit manslaughter

I just want this to be used as a reminder that culture, that traditional clothes from other places and cultures, that traditional dances and songs are NOT A COSTUME, THEY ARE NOT FOR FUN OR TO WEAR TO ONE EVENT AND EVEN LESS TO MOCK THEM.

People from all cultural backgrounds and races are more than invited to comment and state what they think (go ahead please). Make your own posts and revindicate this.

Carnival is coming

#my sibling is still in school i have been out of that hellhole for a while #but holy shit #this reminds me of the time they dressed my peers and I (many many years ago) as ancient Egyptians which is still bad and hurtful #or the time the taught us about japanese culture and made us dance to hatsune miku #and taught us a few words in japanese #i wonder why they never dressed us up with the traditional local costumes i really and truly wonder why they didn't dress us up with those #maybe because putting a trash bag on with a few decorations (that was our ancient Egypt costume) and calling it a traditional dress or suit #is not good #maybe #i asked my sibling if they are going to paint their faces black too #they don't know about that yet #and the teachers really think that that is a good idea #like a REALLY good fucking idea according to what they said #reminder #cultures are not costumes #why can't they dress them as aliens with recycled materials?????????#i they want the kids to engage with African culture they could make them do some research #learn about the different languages and cultures in a region #this of course doesn't apply solely to Africa it's about Asia and asian cultures as well #it's about the culture of the native American people from both north and south #even for other cultures that belong to white people #they don't dress them with the traditional german attire and make them a beer glass out of cardboard because they realize that that is bad

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 1 year

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how crazy do you think the AO3 authours notes are in gotham?

"Joker killed my grandma with a reindeer whilst playing 'grandma got run over by a reindeer' and i don't think i can continue to write this JokerBat fic anymore guys sorry :/ it just feels disrespectful."

“Look, I get if Batman/Clark Kent isn’t your cup of tea, but the guy writes more about Batman than anyone else outside of Gotham. There’s got to be a reason, is all I’m saying.”

“And here I am, jumping on the Batman/Bruce Wayne train like the rest of our beloved hellhole. Anyway, if you’re not from Gotham you can keep your criticisms to yourself or I will not be held responsible for the bloodshed that will occur should you insult our beloved sunshine child and his goth sugar baby. You don’t know them like we do.”

“Hey, sorry I haven’t updated in awhile. I died and then got caught up in this whole my-father-didn’t-avenge-me angst thing. Which was completely justified in my opinion. Anyway…”

“Let’s be honest, this entire series is dedicated to the fact that Red Hood could crush any of us with his thighs and we’d say thank you.”

“I just read a fic shipping Nightwing/Superman and I mean, come on. The author is clearly not from Gotham but I can never unsee that and I think I should be entitled to financial compensation.”

“Sorry it’s been awhile, I just got a new job! With the Best Boss™️ (if you know, you know). Also, my boss said he’d give a hundred bucks if I wrote a Batman bashing fic? Thoughts? Ngl I don’t think it’d even be that hard.”

“‘WHy aRE yoU WriTIng ABouT FakE SupERheROes WHen THe rEAl oNEs aRE riGHt tHEre?’ Uh, because it’s Gotham and they’re all a disaster? And also because I don’t want to be haunted by the venegeful spirits of robins past idk. Thinking of doing a crossover though. Batman in the Avengers? Thoughts?”

“I just want my husband Nightwing to be happy, is that too much to ask?”

“I came across Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy on my way home from school today and will now be hyperfixating on that ship, thanks.”

“Leave me and my 235k word fic of Prince!Bruce/Knight!Batman alone you Metropolis and Superman-loving traitors. This is not for you.”

#gotham #ao3 in gotham #batman #bruce wayne #superman #red hood #nightwing

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gangplanksorenji · 3 months

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Kinknuary Day 13: Uniform Kink

Pairing: NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,562

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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It’s just another goddamn stressful day that you’ll be tackling and you just can’t wait for it to end. Even teaching a class full of boisterous students sends you into a hellhole of utter stress and dismissing them is such a sigh of relief—you still show empathy and enthusiasm to teach and make them learn new things but there are just times where it’s really unbearable but you fight through it, following your moral code of conduct.

Yet one student stood out from the rest, not really because of her academic performance (in which she is already doing decently great) but, in the way she dressed that literally doesn’t follow the campus’ dress code.

As she’s about to leave and get her bangs packed and ready, you suddenly called out her name in a formal manner as you caught her attention off-guard. Of course, she rolls her eyes in subtle annoyance as her friends opted to just wait for her onto the campus’ canteen and Hanni agrees on that and averted her attention towards you.

“What is it, professor?” Hanni asks you with little-to-no-interest as wants this to end as quickly as possible as she has more endeavors to be in with.

“Ms. Pham, I would like to talk about something that I’m pretty sure you’re aware of.” Your stern demeanor intimidates Hanni as the presence of gravitas within you makes her feel a hint of nervousness, unsure on what you may talk about.

“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, professor?” She seems to not be cognizant about what you’re talking about as there’s multiple reasons on why you may call her out. It may seem sincere but she may act oblivious just to trick you but you could never be so sure, so you enlightened her with a fact. “Don’t you see what you’re wearing, Ms. Pham? Don’t you see that it definitely doesn’t follow the dress code of the school’s regulations.”

“Oh, I guess I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know anything about this regulation-thingy and what are you going to do about this, hm, strip it out of me, professor?”

God, this girl—Pham Hanni, yes, this girl is not the girl you don’t want to deal with. Everybody knows how bratty and stubborn she can get whenever she’s being disciplined and snapped back to her place, despite her bubbly and friendly attitude. With that iron wall that’s strong within her, you want to teach her a lesson and break it despite the possible risks and you might need to even take it a step further than the most primitive ways of disciplining students.

You let out a deep sight as silence ensues and then, you slammed hard on the desk and gave her a cold, stern gaze that startled and scared Hanni. “Don’t you dare talk to your professor this way, Ms. Pham Hanni—and I know you’re not this oblivious to not know about the school’s rules and regulations, don’t you?”

And as much as you’re having the higher authority right now, Hanni herself didn’t back down without a fight and rather provoked your inner fire that you didn’t absolutely like but your patience is staying stronger than steel, fighting through her stubborn behavior. It became continuous that the both of you are starting to argue like little kids but you still maintain your composition yet Hanni’s erupting like a volcano gone rogue right now and there’s one thing to deal with this, moreso, privately.

“Then why does it matter so much for you, professor? Just say the words and I—”

“Go to my office now, Pham Hanni.” You interrupted her with a single sentence as her heart dropped massively as fear now emanated on her eyes, as she never saw you this serious before. As much as she wants to complain or retaliate, she doesn’t want to get in any trouble or escalate this situation further so, without any choice, she packed her things and went to your office with you, of course—you need to guard her since she might immediately escape and catch you off-guard, unprepared and you don’t want that to happen.

Once you’ve reached your office, you offer her a seat as you turn on the lights and sit on your chair, ready to further talk about her annoying and frustrating behavior.

“Professor, if it’s just another dumb talk about my bitchy behav—”

“Can you just stay quiet, please?” You retort in response with her talkative antics that made you boil in anger and immediately, Hanni shuts her mouth silent and gulps nervously. “You are being a nuisance to a lot—let me repeat it again for you, a lot of professors, whether it’s your stubbornness or you just being incapable of following such simple instructions and being selfish, it’s getting out of hand.” You blow a deep breath as you’re about to tame a beast like Hanni as you’re preparing for another pointless hindrance that further makes everything go down into flames.

You’re just as puzzled as most of the people that knew her and you hate that one thing that really shows how much the professors despise her—her bratty attitude that will never fade as the boys around her fall in love with that and it’s just something wrong. As much as you don’t like her not following the dress code the school has implemented, you can’t lie and dive into your hypocrisy with the beauty that lies within her because of her aesthetically hot school uniform outfit. Of course, you won’t let your intrusive thoughts win and remain composed throughout the time being of disciplining her and making her snap back to her roots.

Yet you have a single trick up your sleeve whenever this gets out of hand, and you’re just holding onto this for a while, testing your patience.

“We don’t know what to do anymore with you so a little cooperation will be appreciated if you will just—”

“But here’s the thing, professor—” Hanni pushes the chair a little back, before standing and giving you a subtle smirk in aims to lower down your guard. “—at the end of the day, it’s not going to harm anyone and you can’t do anything with it, hah.”

“Hanni, it’s not just that—it’s all about the discipline and the control of your—”

“Oh, stop it, professor—” Hanni walks towards you as your senses heightened, absolutely flummoxed with her eager movements towards you as she’s obviously seducing you into making you fall down her spell. “—don’t tell me you don’t like how pretty I look in this outfit.”

In all means, she’s goddamn right and there’s no way on earth you would say a no but of course, you’re fighting the urge of your primal desires as you brush her approaching advancements to lure you in, retaliating and further wanting Hanni to back down even though you know that she’ll just advance without anyone to stop her.

“Stop this madness, Pham Hanni—you’re not going to—”

“I’m absolutely in this, professor—stop being a hypocrite and tell me how pretty I look with this uniform.”

It’s her accent and her saccharine voice that further doesn’t help with your defensive state against her unstoppable will. You can’t lie how perfectly beautiful she looks in this possibly-cursed uniform as every inch ultimately highlights her slender waist, her beautiful thighs and her perky mounds and you hate it. Maybe, she dressed like this for a purpose but you’re not so sure and you’re running out of time before you unshackle everything that has been caged for so long.

Knowing that hypocrisy is such utter bullshit, you finally give in a little as you start to stutter and mutter such complimentary words that Hanni catches her ears on it.

“You l-look good in this outfit, Hanni—not going to lie with you. Your curves, your thighs, it’s just perfect for you.”

Hanni finally smiles widely with her eyes drawing such crescent moons, emanating her cuteness towards you. She’s delighted to hear your sincere takes on her outfit and decided to take it a step further than ever before. Hanni then closes towards you as her hands palmed your chest, the warmth of it making you overwhelmed and excited as your heart races its beat like it’s catching something.

“I guess you want something to deal with this, right, professor? And don’t you dare say no because—” Hanni looks at your eyes endearingly with aims to further lure you onto her spell as her thick Australian accent followed by her sweet voice seduces you further, “—I can see in your eyes, professor—your pretty, black eyes says it all…” She further puts gasoline on the flames as she caresses her hands slowly on your chest, making you feel the affection and sincerity of Hanni’s eyes and because of your clever mind, you knew exactly where this is going as you fully gave in to your animalistic urges and broke apart your stern, teacher-like persona.

“I do want you, Hanni. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re so goddamn pretty and hot.” You took some quick peeks on her impeccable features as she saw this, smiling at the fact that you’re admiring her scrumptious body and her pretty face.

“I know professor—you’re hot and pretty handsome too. You don’t know this but—” Hanni tiptoes as you slightly slouch in order for her to be in level with you as she whispers in your ear, “—I had a crush on you for a long time now, professor.”

This may sound unorthodox for you but you feel your heart beating triple its normal rate, finding Hanni’s advances wholesome and flustering. It may sound wrong as you want to unhear what Hanni just said but you can’t help yourself with your own desires and even wanting more. Knowing that Hanni’s touches are getting bolder enough for you to act up, you gently push her hands off on your chest as she pouts cutely, dejected with your retaliating advances yet she doesn’t give up, at her watch.

“Hanni—we can’t be doing this. This is just wrong, I’m sorry—”

“But professor—” Hanni lays down onto the couch as she displays herself in front of you and all you can see is an angel getting ready to be sullied. “—don’t you wanna think of something else? Like, kissing me, making me rile up or just ruining me with this goddamn uniform? Come on professor, make a girl worth her while…”

With your own desires taking over you, you can’t be bothered to really make yours unattended as her primal calls make up for your time as you were lured by her own devilish remarks. You pin her down at the couch as she yelped in response, feeling a little shocked with your aggressive actions but she never wanted you to break the heated atmosphere that has been building up as she grabbed your collar and kissed you intimately.

This is totally wrong—you said to yourself but you didn’t care anymore, not when Hanni’s plump, luscious lips are in contact with yours, sharing such an intimate kiss as the both of you find yourselves even indulging deeper and not wanting to end this so soon but speak of the devil, Hanni pulls out of the latch of your lips as she looks at you with need in her eyes. Can’t seem to really contain yourself anymore because of such a hot scene, you thought of something that will change the course of this session and will start things off incredibly well.

“Get on your knees, Hanni. I’ll probably assume you know where this will go, right?”

Getting up on the couch, Hanni eagerly obliged to your request as she knelt down in front of you with her eyebrows furrowed, a little nervous about what you may have in store. Hanni knows what you’re coming up with but she just wants everything to be confirmed by you so she didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Are you s-sure about this, professor?”

“Yes, Hanni—I am more than sure. Besides, no one will know any of this and have no secret cameras installed here anyways. Now, do your thing and impress me.”

Your tone makes her heart drop as the heat makes everything intense as your stern face intimidates her but it didn’t bother her to start her own service. Her hands trembled a bit but she didn’t care as she continued unbuckling your belt and then unbuttoning your pants as you mildly groan due to her hurried actions as her touch feels enchanting, the hotness rivaling the cold air that had permeated around the room. Even with the possible uneasiness laced in every move she does when she’s stripping you, you can’t help but be in awe of how she’s genuinely interested in what she’s doing as the lust and anticipation glistens on her dark orbs.

“Have you done this before, Hanni?”

Hanni, still busy with her current activity, takes a second before she could respond as she looks at your eyes endearingly and mutters, “Not really, professor—just on my toys though, so I had some little practice at my end.”

You scoff as you were shocked by Hanni’s dirty, little secret but you didn’t take it as a joke or way too seriously—it’s just great that she had experienced it with even a silicon toy but now, she’ll be trying the real thing and it’s just going to be better than this. Now, with your last defense left before her grand treasure, Hanni didn’t waste any time and let the feral beast inside you be unshackled from its frustrating restraints and god, Hanni’s eyes lit in awe and amazement as she gets her first treatment and a sight of such a beautiful, perfect cock.

“Professor—it looks good and thick. It feels so warm and nice on my hand too—woahh...”You can see how adventurous and how new Hanni is in these kinds of things as she’s just in full-admiration of your entire length now all for her to taste and use. You want to show some mercy with Hanni, even with her bitchy attitude that makes you want to teach her lesson, you’d still keep the feral beast inside you for now as you don’t want yourself to grow impatient, reminding Hanni on what to really do.

“Show me what those plump lips can do, Hanni—show me what they’re really made of.”

“Yes, professor…” With no time to waste, her soft flesh meets your engorged tip as she sends multiple pecks onto it, from your tip down to the base her actions immediately send waves of pleasure and it's a pandemonium of delight. Sudden surge of pleasure does course down your veins and you can’t help but let out moans that screams volumes of peak delight and gratification with the incredible work of Hanni’s lips marking every inch of your shaft with her touch and she’s barely even doing anything on your cock yet.

Well, you didn’t need to imagine anymore nor Hanni as she envelops her soft lips all over your tip, just pushing it almost the frenulum as she eagerly bobs her head and sucked onto your length like it’s favorite popsicle. With you sitting onto the couch, you may think that Hanni’s struggling a little due to the position but she shows no signs of it as she continues her masterclass of an incredible display of her talented mouth doing wonder all over your length. She definitely knows how to suck a damn cock like yours, even if she said she hasn't had a real one and just done it with her toys makes you think if she’s lying on her teeth but you didn’t mind it as you let do an incredible job between your legs. Inevitably, saliva seeps out at the side of her mouth and onto her chin due to her furious bobbing as it stains the couch and makes it a little wet—adds to the element of a messy, sloppy, and most of all, a great blowjob session.

With now taking more than half of your length everytime she thrusts her mouth on your cock, a gag can be heard resonating around the room as it’s bound to make your arousal soar higher than the heavens, and it absolutely did. She didn’t stop sucking you, moreso, even pull out quickly enough to catch her breath as she gives you the best she could deliver as she’s totally serving the dish hotter than what you expected, all of the elements coming all together in aims to reach a single goal: to make you stimulated enough to blow a healthy, thick load. With her furious bobbing onto your constantly throbbing penis, you grabbed her blonde-highlighted dark streaks as an outlet to fight the constant pleasure you’re experiencing and wanting yourself to give her a treat, you caught her off-guard by simple forcing your entire length down her throat as it hits the back of it, activating her gag reflex and immediately, she forced out of your saliva-sheathed member as she catches her breath in response.

“Wha—What w-was that professor?”

“I just wanted to feel your entire throat and if you can take it whole, Hanni—go on and continue…”

Hanni throwed a slight glare because of your sudden harsh actions towards her but she brushed it off immediately and got back onto sucking your raging length again. This time, it was better considering how she locks eye contact with you periodically, more often that earlier and with a new and a better addition, Hanni’s dainty fingers finding its way to fondle your balls for further stimulation as it became so frequent that you increase the quality and also the volume of your moans and that alone sends Hanni onto a better task at making your brain go haywire.

There’s is no absolute way that this can get any better—Hanni bobbing her up and down furiously as she gags every time she does it, saliva seeping out her mouth and staining the vicinity around her lips, her tears and makeup getting ruined because of her own harsh doings against your length, and the peak of the iceberg is herself in her uniforms which turns you on so fucking much—and there’s nothing you can ask for at this moment. Her pace is just getting ridiculous at this point that it’s all going to get out of hand soon because you’re feeling the familiar sensation growing up in your loins as you have more plans ahead for this girl as the both of you are just starting.

Well, you never knew that a girl in her uniform would make such a blowjob session thrice as hot as you’ve ever thought about and maybe, you just found yourself a new fetish.

“S-Stop, Hanni…” Your pleas fall deaf onto her ears as the sounds of her constant slurping and her sheer focus on sucking you off makes off a wall to refrain herself from any distraction. Gathering up more strength, you raise your voice in hope for her to hear you as you can feel yourself going near that high you’ve been waiting for but you don’t want it deep down her throat.

“I said stop, Pham Hanni!”

Fear took over her as she’s startled and afraid with your tone, immediately stopping and pulling out of your drool-lathered, throbbing length as connections of saliva were evident.

“Did I d-do something wrong, p-professor?” You could feel the fright laced between her words as felt bad and guilty with it, so you reassured her in the nicest way possible as you don’t want this to end so quickly and anti-climactic.

“No—I want my load to be deep in your pussy because girls like you don’t deserve a load deep down their slutty throats…”

“B-But I deserved it!”

“I won’t repeat myself, Hanni.”

You’re not wrong, by any means. If she misbehaved so badly and acted like an unbearable brat earlier, then it’s just fair making her be deprived of your seed. You commanded her to stand up as she did so, and you helped her with that and not so long after, you ordered her again to bend herself over, her hands palmed all over the wall as she gave out an excited look, Hanni anticipating what you may still have in store up your sleeve.

“Do you w-want me to strip off m-my clothing?” Like your growing fetish onto hot and petite girls in uniforms, you can’t be bothered to see her naked as two brilliant things are the reasons: one, she’s still within the school’s premises as you don’t want her to be utterly ruined and naked when the both of you are done and two, you really want to sully her with her uniforms on as it’s such an arousing sight to see her curvature and her impeccable features being complimented by her uniform. With this conclusion, you came up with a single reasoning and replied to her—

“No, I want your uniform stayed on—you’ll look better ruined with those on and look too great on that.”

Hearing this, Hanni’s lips curled up a smirk as she knew how to really turn you on right from the start. She knows her captivating and alluring aura will send down your defenses and will break your stern persona as a professor and given the fact that her in a uniform turns you on even more than what she expected, makes everything better and more arousing. Now, with her unparalleled pleas of needs towards you, you can’t help but feel yourself inching closer towards a heavenly route towards your own sin—and you’re about to take such a bold risk that will define your limits and Hanni’s and it’s all about to break down. With her petite and slender figure bent over and ready for taking, you take a moment to admire her plump cheeks and her beautifully sculpted thighs that it’s in the right amount of thickness. You caress your palm over it as your fingers slowly run over the hem of her white-laced panties, stretching it out a little in order to tease her and not for long, your deftly swiped it down to her ankles as you were met with her glistening, needy cunt that’s already dripping and you don’t know when it started.

With that desired treasure within your reach, you’re in no state to not dive into it yet your conscience fights with you but you manage to calm it down as you fully indulge on your own needs and immediately, you plunge your length in her with a harsh grip on her thighs as a leverage and god, her moans are basically the purest and the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your entire life—such sultriness and sweetness behind her lustful needs makes it such a great symphony to listen as rhapsodies of her delighted feelings escapes her mouth, further muttering such lovely moans that greatly fueled your lust over her.

You know this is wrong—so besmirching yet you’re at the point of no-return and just finding yourself being lured deeply into the abyss of your primal desires.

“God—p-professor—your cock—oh, it’s so big and n-nice up my tight, l-little cunt!”

“You’re t-tight as fuck too, Hanni—let me guess though—” You then inch closer towards her ear and fixed her hair as some of it falls back onto the other side as you muttered, “—you’ve tried shoving up your toys in this tight pussy, isn’t it?”

Hanni’s already at her vulnerable point as she can’t think of any articulate response rather than moaning in need yet she manages to fight through it, uttering a reply before she can let out her lustful profanities again. “Y-Yes—yes, professor! I l-love playing w-with my toys that’s why—fuck, so good!”

As you ensue such powerful yet slow thrusts, Hanni can’t help but voice out her satisfaction each time you do it as her thighs jiggling in response to your harsh movements is bringing you into a hypnotic trance. With her delectable buttcheeks being a victim of such vibrations due to your constant ramming of her cunt and with that such, you gave her a single spank that reverberated around the room and Hanni herself cried in intense pleasure because of it. With such an incredibly hot sight of Hanni in her uniform, getting railed from behind, you can’t help but make yourself unable to maintain the pace even if you wanted it slow with Hanni and you didn’t last long and gave in to your primal instincts and let your hips do the work.

Your new profound pace makes Hanni writhe as her fist forms tight curls from the constant course of pleasure running down her veins, making her stimulated enough to drip around your ravaging member and onto the floor, staining it with her own succulent juices. Your hands now averted its attention towards her shoulders and then her perky mounds in which you slowly groped, and fondled them carefully while still maintaining a breakneck pace that’s been forming such heavenly clouds of gratification that makes the best for both worlds. She lets out a series of satisfied moans, but this time, it’s more sultry and more of a whimper in your words as your intimate actions brings her closer onto her own promised land.

“Oh fuck—professor! P-Please k-keep doing—fuck, ahh—that!!”

It was the same words uttered earlier and until now, and you’ll never get tired of it and will even make her a ruined mess that can only moan such lifeless syllables full of lust. With your relentless pace and such stimulating actions onto her small mounds, you further make it worth her while as you kiss her nape and suckled onto the porcelain skin, making her feel cherished and treasured as it’s all just becoming too much for Hanni that she’s unable to control herself, vulnerable on writhing unstoppably as the quivering of thighs would be a reasonable evidence to start with.

If this is what Hanni wanted at the very start, then she’ll get what she wanted—not because she solely deserved this, yet.

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Hanni? You really decided to dress like this to lure me in—well, you fucking got it because—” You keep fucking her steady as she cries from the stimulating actions your hips has been oscillating as her tumultuous mouth letting out the most lustful profanities are coming into a halt. “—I’ll destroy this pussy and fill you up like a good fucking girl and to teach you a fucking lesson!”

With the venom laced being thrown at her, unlocking the pure devilish deeds in you and putting your merciful façade onto its unfortunate demise, you let yourself be unshackled from the restraints you’ve been cursing yourself onto and rammed her tight, wet cunt like there’s no tomorrow. You gave her nothing but a lightning pace as each thrust aims to break her in half, teaching her a lesson and as the cherry on top, to fuck that living bratty and bitchy attitude out of her. Now grabbing the tie that has been an absolute iconic element of her outfit, you used it as a collar for a leverage to further fuck her into oblivion and with this pace, it isn’t going to be long before Hanni meets the end of the line, setting herself up to the top step of absolute lust and peak quality of pleasure—the long-awaited orgasmic trance of Hanni.

You know how close she is with the constant pulsations of her pussy around your ravaging length as you muster up the fastest pace your hips can do just to chase her orgasm further and with an ear-screeching scream of ecstasy, she announces her anticipated high.

“Oh god—I’m g-gonna—fuck—gonna cum on y-your cock, professor! Holy sh—shit!”

“Do it, Pham Hanni—cum on my cock like a good, pretty girl.”

With the last string of her defense now cut down, streams and streams of her nectar flow around your cock as she catches her breath everytime she lets out rounds of such an intense orgasmic high. You didn’t stop your thrusts though, yet you slow down to give her a breather but she looks back at you, wanting you to fully ravage her tight cunt even with her current state. Marking that as a green, you further resume your frantic pace as the wet squelching of her pussy and the constant clashing of both your drenched bodies became an arousing sound to hear as it draws you further to your own peak, inching it closer yet you fight it in order to savor the tight feeling and an ecstatic clenching of her velvety walls around your throbbing shaft. You support Hanni with your muscular arms as you can see how her orgasm depleted a chunk of her energy as her hands became weak, unable to full grip onto the walls as she just became a lifeless form capable of just uttering the most erotic syllables known to man and god, it’s even drawing you closer to the edge as it stimulates you into oblivion, and can’t draw back.

Chasing your own high as you want it as soon as possible, you use her body like you have something to prove to her as you train her with the aims to derive the best pleasure out of it and Hanni’s, too. Even with the orgasm-drunken state of Hanni, she’s able to encourage you to further release in her as she wiggles her bubble butt leisurely, wanting to get off yourself too as her voice captivates you and lures you deep on your darkest, lustful desires.

“Come o-on, professor—use m-my cunt and cum i-in me—please, I w-want it! I’m s-safe so you don’t need t-to worry—ahh—a-about me!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, reluctant with that approach that you may do the unthinkable but yet find yourself thrusting harder and faster, “Are y-you sure, Hanni?”

“Yes! Yes, p-professor—so please, I w-want your load d-deep inside me…”

With Hanni’s reassurance and her further encouragement for your long-awaited release, you trust her as you give her wet, tight walls the final thrusts it deserves as she constantly clenches with your pace, unable to control herself from it as you gave in.

“God—I’m gonna cum so hard in you, Pham Hanni!”

And then, your final blow decimates the last standing defense within you as your euphorically groaned and shoot spurts and spurts of your treasured load deep inside her cunt as you bury your whole length in her, in aims to fill her up to the womb as she lets out such ecstatic moans with the warmth inside her painting every inch of her walls white with your seed. Your initial response after a mind-bending orgasm that lasted for like fifteen seconds is to pull out slowly and admire the creamy mess you made inside her emanating heat, as the both of you let out such exasperated breaths after a steamy session that no one can possibly top off. Hanni becomes weak as her legs got a little wobbly from your aggressive actions, sitting down slowly at the floor and recovering herself from the earlier euphoric trance and so did you, letting your cock soften as it twitches in need but you didn’t mind anything and take some time to recover.

“Oh my—you came so much in me, professor…” Hanni lightly laughs as it’s contagious, laughing with her and smiling right after, knowing how satisfied she is as much as you did.

“You too—I could literally feel a faucet leaking out of me when you came.” Hanni blushes from your reply as her hands come down to the hem of her panties, pulling it up as some of your semen leaked out and stained her thighs.

Awkward silence ensues right after as both parties slowly descend into recovery, catching breaths and reminiscing—maybe comprehending too—such remarkable moments throughout the intense session of such intimate sex.

“Oh gosh—well, y-you proved your point already, professor.” Your face paints a confused one as you vaguely remember what she could be talking about.

“Of what, Hanni.”

“Of teaching me a lesson, professor. Would definitely follow your orders from now on.”

You faintly smile from her possibly sarcastic ways of a response of your “discipline” but you can sense the sincerity deep within her despite her unfathomable attitude.

“You know, we should clean up and fix ourselves, Hanni.”

The both of you then hurriedly got up as you helped Hanni since her legs are weaker right now (but it’s in a state where she can still walk) thanks to your constant ramming at her cunt for like umpteenth times. The both of you fix yourselves and become more presentable and as she’s about to leave, you chat with her for a short while and then waved goodbye at each other but now, both of your faces emanate delight and comfort.

---

As Hanni is walking her way down towards her friends who've been waiting for forever, probably in the school’s canteen, she notices a small note stitched onto her backpack that says, “Thanks for that, Hanni. I’ll be calling you later for something… :)”

Knowing that it’s from you, she can’t help but smile as it went all troublesome but in the end, it all fell down onto curiosity and possibly, a stronger connection.

#kinknuary 2024 #newjeans smut #hanni smut #newjeans x male reader #hanni x male reader

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disasterofastory · 7 months

Text

A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies

Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.

It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.

The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.

Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.

"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.

How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.

"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"

Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.

He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.

You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.

"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.

You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.

"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.

You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.

When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.

While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.

A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.

You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.

"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."

In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.

Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?

"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.

Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"

You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.

The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months

Text

What I Wouldn't Do

This fanfiction is a Valentine's Day exchange gift for the lovely @henderdads. Cass, Eddie absolutely hates Valentine's Day, but for Steve? Well. He's willing to make an exception. Have an amazing Valentine's Day, you deserve it so much!!

Sometimes, it is difficult to reconcile several different truths in our lives.

Eddie currently has this dilemma.

Truth A: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson’s boyfriend, allegedly loves sappy romantic things, Valentine's Day included.

Truth B: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington's boyfriend, feels like if the world ever has to end, it should do so on February 14th, for this is the worst day of all days, the day of heart-shaped chocolate that tastes like crap, couples exchanging sweet words and bodily fluids, sometimes even semi-publicly, and don't even get him started about that horrible romantic music.

After swearing on the Munson doctrine he won’t sell his soul to consumerism for anything and anyone but Steve, Eddie Munson decides to ignore Truth B. Steve Harrington deserves the best Valentine's day in the history of this idiotic holiday and Eddie has a hunch, a massive, Everest-sized hunch, that in all of his previous Valentine's days, Steve was always the one to do all the work. His beautiful and brave people-pleasing boyfriend.

Then Eddie realizes another very uncomfortable truth. He has no idea how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He spent the twenty one-ish years of his existence avoiding the holiday, so now he has to do some research.

He starts small. When they walk together in the Hawkins center, careful not to touch or hold hands because Hawkins still remains a backward hellhole, he notes what Steve looks at. If his eyes linger on a certain flower for a few seconds, he makes a mental note. A mental note means in Eddie's case that he repeats the name of the flower ad nauseum, quickly excuses himself and scribbles it onto his forearm not to forget. He even buys a permanent marker for this. He can't forget anything, not when it's important for Steve.

When Steve asks about the scribbles, he claims it's for the next campaign. He even draws a sword and a shield next to the notes to avoid suspicion.

He asks many questions, most of them under the pretense of helping Gareth with his dates. "I swear, Steve, when he's lovestruck, he gets completely stupid. Not stupid stupid, Gareth's smart, but he can't hold rhythm and we need him to hold it, he's our drummer! So save this suffering aspiring rockstar and tell me, what do you think is the best type of chocolate? Milk chocolate? Okay, and is that like, universal? Did your previous dates like it? I see, a majority then! Sooo...are you a part of that majority?"

Very smooth.

See, Eddie doesn't give a flying demobat about chocolate types, he's more into hard candy. He doesn't like cut flowers, they die anyways because you cut them, how is that fair to that flower, huh? To die for being pretty? And of course, he hates the whole EXPECTATION of Valentine's Day.

But the more he asks, the more he finds out, he doesn't see it as participating in the mindless machinery of lovestruck idiots. Instead, he sees the flush on Steve's cheeks when he talks about dark chocolate with dried raspberries and how his parents once brought it back from dad's trade conference, how it was love at first taste. He scratches out the idea for a bouquet of flowers when Steve mentions he’s always hated them because the flowers are so beautiful and vibrant, but they’re cut for an obligation in their prime. “It sounds stupid when I say it,” he chuckles, “but I want them to live until they’re ugly and withered, you know? They’re worth way more than their looks.”

Eddie could kiss him right there and then. And he does.

He brings it all together, prepares all of Steve’s favorites with a silly twist because it’s Eddie, and Eddie lives for silly things. It really needs to be his favorites because Steve once admitted to him that most people with the exception of Robin and Dustin don’t really know what he likes, they just assume. And Steve is happy that people even thought about him, he thanks them and treasures those things that don’t mean anything to him. To Steve, being thought about is enough.

Well, not to Eddie Munson.

He asks Steve not to plan anything for their Valentine's Day. Or more precisely, he asks him to stay free and available and not worry his beautifully hairy head. He knows that if he didn't say this, Steve would have gone above and beyond for him, he would have likely taken Eddie to a concert with music so loud he’d get a migraine, but he’d suffer through it. So Eddie has to stop that from happening.

On the actual day, Eddie prepares everything. He sends Gareth ("You owe me so much for this. SO MUCH, MUNSON. I actually wanted to watch this tonight!") to rent Steve's favorite movie and goes himself to get access to the Hawkins High with…almost completely legal means, just a little bit of bribing here, some promises for a lengthy D&D campaign there, and of course lots and lots of nougat.

He gathers everything in his van, waits for the kids and the janitor to get out and then starts setting the scene.

There are two more incompatible truths that Eddie Munson grapples with:

Truth A: Eddie Munson fucking HATES the Hawkins High. He wants it to burn down in flames, with only the theater room staying intact.

Truth B: Steve Harrington sometimes wistfully mentions how he wishes he could have dated Eddie Munson in high school. How they’d share lunches, trade secret kisses in the hallways. He wishes himself and the world had been different.

And so Eddie Munson grits his teeth, walks those cursed hallways he only managed to escape a few months back and counts on Robin Buckley to deliver his invitation with flair. “Extra points if you get him a trumpet solo, Buckley!”

Robin apparently delivers because only half an hour after the expected invite, as he is smoking his fifth cigarette - don’t blame the guy, he’s nervous! He’s got a big date! - Steve arrives with a smile that’s equally excited and nervous. He keeps running his fingers through his hair and overall looks just biteable.

Steve walks up to him and brushes his fingers against Eddie’s wrist, discreetly as they have established. It’s their own version of a kiss. “I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” he asks and he looks so apologetic that Eddie promises to base all villains in his new campaign on all the people who ever made Steve feel he wanted too much.

Eddie glances around, deems it safe and pulls Steve into an actual kiss. "It might be Valentine's day for you, Steve. For me, it's the "Steve Harrington Appreciation Day." He winks at Steve and relishes in the slight blush that has crept into his cheeks. “The name is already registered and all. No changes possible or accepted. Follow me, big boy.”

Steve laughs when he sees a set cafeteria table with something that brings back so many memories. How did Eddie get two portions of school lunch?! The man has to be magical, he decides. They eat together, chat about their day, and then Eddie decides feeding each other is off the table because they’re giggling so much he almost stabbed Steve with the fork.

They walk the hallways together, hand in hand, and Eddie sometimes turns around, sticks his tongue out at an imaginary girl and sneers “back off! He’s mine!”.

Steve turns after Eddie and nods. “What he said,” he whispers and squeezes Eddie’s waist.

Eddie then hands Steve a sports bag he stashed in the changing rooms and winks at him. “What are you waiting for, Harrington? We have some balls to toss! Baskets to score. That.” And before Steve has a chance to protest, he gets his own bag and starts changing into those awfully familiar PE shorts in all their green and white glory.

Steve just watches him, mouth hanging open. “Now I get why I never saw you in these,” he mumbles as he also starts changing. “I would have realized I’m bi like, at that moment.”

But Eddie just laughs and pulls his hair into a loose bun. “Oh, Steve. You have no idea what those shorts on you did to the little closeted me. The thoughts they gave me.”

“Lucky for you, baby,” says Steve and pulls Eddie to his feet, “this time you’re allowed - and strongly encouraged - to both watch AND touch.” Then he cocks his head to the side and adds: “Well. If you score at least one point.”

Eddie tries. Fails. Tries again, even with Steve helping him. Eventually, they settle for a quick game of tic-tac-toe which Eddie wins and happily squeezes Steve’s butt.

Their final destination is the only class they ever shared, history. All desks are empty, except for one - the middle one in the second row, where Steve used to sit. There’s dark chocolate with dried raspberries, Steve’s favorite, and a pot of flowers. Yellow, another favorite.

“The lady in the flower shop said they should live, like, really long,” shrugs Eddie and moves the chair for Steve so he can sit down. “I forgot their name the second I got them, but Buckley knows and she was asked to deliver a booklet with how to care for them.”

Steve drags him down to his level and kisses Eddie, deep and long. He’s either crying or laughing into the kiss, maybe both. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Eddie’s cheek. “All of this…is right. It’s me. You remembered.”

“Eh…kinda. Tried to.” Eddie gives up and lets himself be seated on Steve’s lap. “Actually, I had a small…cheat sheet. Let me show you.”

Steve watches as Eddie takes off his bracelet and watch and sets both on the desk. He gasps as he sees a coiling pattern around Eddie’s wrist, something that looks like a dotted or scratched tattoo all around, but that’s not it. Because then Eddie moves his wrist closer and he can read all the words on Eddie’s skin.

DARK CHOCOLATE WITH RASPBERRIES

NO CUT FLOWERS! YELLOW IS GOOD

COFFEE WITH ONE DROP OF MILK

NO ICE IN DRINKS - TRIGGERS MIGRAINES

BELTS AND SHOELACES - GOOD GIFTS TO WEAR

FREDDIE MERCURY

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY

NO KETCHUP!

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM

These and so much more. All of Steve’s favorites, all what made him feel like himself, forever preserved in Eddie’s skin.

He buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder and holds him so tight Eddie has trouble breathing, but then he decides that oxygen is overrated. “You’re so crazy,” sobs Steve into his shoulder.

Eddie laughs again into the quiet of their former school. “I know.”

“And I love you so much.”

He kisses Steve’s forehead. “I know. And I love you too. That’s why I had to do this, you know. Because even when I’m old and ugly, just like these flowers will be one day, when I’m senile and can hardly remember my own name, I will look at my hand and I’ll know all that is important.”

Steve holds him even tighter if that’s possible, but maybe oxygen is needed just a little. Eddie gently kisses Steve’s head again and whispers: “We’re not done yet, love. Can you let me go so I can play us a movie? Something nice.”

The arms crushing him loosen their hold and Steve briefly turns away to wipe at his eyes. “Sure. Sorry, I just…this is new for me. But good. So good.”

“You deserve the good. All of it.” Eddie means it. And if seeing Steve appreciated as he should have been all of his life is redeemed by something as mundane as ignoring some truths about himself? Eddie is ready and willing.

As he puts Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom into the VHS player, he realizes something terrifying - he’s actually LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT VALENTINE’S DAY.

Oh well. Time to adjust the Munson doctrine. After all, it might become a Munson-Harrington doctrine one day, so it deserves some revision.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #sweetandspicyexchange

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ma1dita · 3 months

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buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—-

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—-

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—-

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—-

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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