#idk but anon. don’t like you very much. I don’t hate you but you make me feel kinda weird with how you just took this idea w/ no crediting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

juyeonszn · 1 year ago

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BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

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wonwayne · 1 year ago

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how enha takes care of you ☁️

pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : fluff, comfort, humor warnings : mentions of food word count : 1k

a/n : requested by anon! kind of kicked it off with this hee drabble but had so much fun writing for all the members. for today’s purposes, let’s keep y/n sick and alone in their apartment 🫶

💭 heeseung

my little philosophy is that significant others can be two types of caregivers — one actively tries to treat your illness, the other is emotional support

each has their own merit ofc

but hee is miraculously both

sincerely believes he can rizz you to health

he’s being a bit selfish, he worries, for making you smile all the time

because it heals him more than it heals you

but he makes up for it by making sure you eat like a king (for all three meals a day!) until you feel better

also cuddles with you in bed to keep you warm

if whatever you have is contagious, he is definitely getting it

last but certainly not least: he sings to you. acoustic covers + snippets of his self-produced music, you’re getting it all 😌

almost makes you wish you were sick more often

💭 jay

arrives at your place with like fifty grocery bags (okay maybe not fifty, but… a lot)

big believer in sleep as the best medicine so he lets you be for the most part

but as soon as you wake up and come down to the living room

say hello to a FEAST

literally no room left on the dining table and he’s still doing something in the kitchen????

“jay i can’t… consume all of this” “don’t worry, eat as much as you want for now and i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge”

at this point what is there left to say except “can you just be my husband already”

you’re about to dig in and suddenly he’s standing over you giving you the death stare

“... did i… do something wrong?” “seriously?” your heart stops before he goes, “what happened to my thank you kiss?”

UGH he’s such a softie

💭 jake

is worried SICK and cannot hide it

refuses to leave your bedroom once he first enters it unless absolutely necessary — must stay by your side at all times !!

not the most experienced but the effort is very much there

“should we take the medicine together? would that be easier?” and you KNOW he hates taking medicine

“babe why would you take nyquil. you don’t have a cold.” “idk it can’t hurt can it?” it very much can (don’t do this kids)

he drinks it with you anyway (clinks the medicine cups and says “cheers!”… what are you going to do with this man) and tries his best to fight the drowsiness

ends up dozing with his head on your lap, kneeling by the bed

peak puppy position i tell you PEAK

💭 sunghoon

what matters is not so much how he takes care of you but how he looks so good while taking care of you: simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just to the elbows, hair slicked back a little from washing his face, setting damp towels on your forehead and his forearm veins emerging as he wrings them… help me

it’s the wuthering heights bedridden cathy victorian era aesthetic okay

speaking of books why do i get the feeling that sunghoon would read to you

or simply talk to you about his day or childhood memories or anything to keep you comfortable and entertained

idk i feel like he’d want to remind you of his presence in a “i’m here for you” type of way but without being intrusive… is not at all offended when you fall asleep to his voice

don’t you just love when sunghoon.

💭 sunoo

i have one very specific idea for sunoo and i’m kinda obsessed with it

MINT. TEA. (if you know you know… mint tea is the sinus relief GOD)

and ofc as our resident mint choco lover, how could he not

“baby i made something for you!” you peer into the mug and you’re like 🤨 “you didn’t add chocolate syrup to this did you” “wtf i’m not a monster why would i do that??”

his discography and food preferences beg to differ but he truly does give you pure, steaming mint tea

it is so perfect i promise you will fall in love with him all over again

mint aside we all know this man is a human vitamin like i cannot imagine you staying sick for long

no need to binge tv (it makes your head hurt more anyway), just have sunoo spill all the drama to you for seven hours straight and you’ll be good to go

💭 jungwon

makes you wonder, did this boy have a medical degree this entire time and just not tell me??

knows exactly which medications help with which symptoms, gives you all the immune boosting foods, pulls up with a weighted blanket and a heating pad and a plushie to hug— you’re getting the best sleep of your life no question about it

listens to you so well “i miss what it was like to breathe” “it’s frustrating, isn’t it? as soon as one nostril clears, the other fills up, and it never seems to end” “YES ohmy— [cough] god, yes, you get it :(”

at the same time i think won is the most likely to avoid skinship when you’re sick bc yeah that stuffy nose does not sound fun

is smart about it though; prepares a bubble bath for you and then sets up the heating pad and everything on your bed while you’re in the bath

becomes 143x touchier once you’re back to normal (“i missed squishing your cheeks” “i missed squishing your cheeks!”)

💭 niki

crashes at your place to make sure you’re having a good time

it’s either you watching him game or movie marathon together

you don’t say it but you are so inordinately grateful that he’s caring enough to chill with you on days like these, you know he’d rather do dates outside and play pranks on you every other hour, but he’s giving that up just for you

would share a tub of ice cream with you if you’re craving it, although he voices his concerns first “is it… right to eat cold stuff when you have a cold?” “it defrosts in my mouth don’t worry” “okay you do you”

basically a good old sleepover

every time he checks your temperature he sings his part in fever (he’s humorous like that)

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pynkhues · 1 month ago

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Idk if uve discussed this before, im new haha but I really enjoy your readings of the show and I’m curious, would u call louis a femme? Idk i think it’s a widely accepted canon in the fandom and i constantly see it spread all over twitter with no argument whatsoever and im over here like i.. i dont see it?? Idk!

Hey! Welcome, anon! And thank you for your kind words! You’re very sweet!

I think I’ve probably discussed it in fragments before, but not outright said it, but no, I wouldn’t call Louis a femme. It’s certainly a largely accepted fanon in a vocal part of the fandom, particularly on Twitter and ao3, and yeah - - I mean. I’m really glad people are having fun with it! I do also sometimes feel they’re watching a different show to me though, because it’s honestly not something I see at all. I don’t know if their arguments are necessarily organized in the one place (although I could be very wrong in terms of that!) but I might use this as an opportunity to collate my thoughts and the previous posts I’ve made addressing the arguments around this particular topic. SO! Okay! Let’s break it down and dive in:

Louis is femme because he’s a Gothic Heroine

I just don’t agree with this argument, I’m sorry. I’m not going to get into the weeds of this one, just because I feel like I’ve done so already, but I don’t personally read Louis as a gothic heroine at all. In fact, I see him as a very archetypical Byronic Hero, which I talked about in this post, and in others in my Byronic Hero tag.

Louis is femme because he is a Battered Housewife / relying on a Sugar Daddy

This point often gets tied up into the gothic heroine one, and it’s one that always kind of surprises me a little bit. Even putting aside the fact that it’s an ugly, misogynistic trope in general, Louis’ relationship to being a quote-unquote ‘housewife’ is one that – to me – is symbolic of his feelings of emasculation in the Rue Royale household not as a result of Lestat alone, but as a result of the white power structures in New Orleans that would disempower and disenfranchise him. He doesn’t like it, it doesn’t make him ‘femme’, in fact, my interpretation is the opposite – it emasculates him as a Black Man, and he feels that in every part of his life to the point that both his daughter and sister weaponize it against him, and I personally think it’s a factor in his periodic impotence in his marriage. Respectively, Claudia calls him the housewife, and Grace calls Lestat his white daddy – these aren’t compliments, these are callous insults from both of them designed to bruise his pride and force him into action. The fact that neither of them work to move him the way they want doesn’t mean Louis identifies with them, rather it means he’s – at the time – committed to Lestat for better and worse, but their words compound in a way that fuels his resentment of Lestat as both an adulterous husband and a symbol of everything wrong with his life.

Further to that – and I say it in the Byronic Hero/Gothic Heroine post that I link to above – but a vital part of power dynamic tropes in gothic literature is that women lose power through marriage, they don’t gain it, and Louis does, in fact, gain it. Lestat’s a ticket to social advancement for Louis because as much as Louis (rightfully! It’s extremely racist!) hates being forced into a servitude role publicly at the theatre or in lease agreements, it’s Lestat’s whiteness that allows Louis into more conversations politically, and eventually allows him to buy the Fair Play Saloon and turn it into The Azaelia. It’s a limited power, of course, as a result of his race and the era, but the show actually explicitly lays out certain things for us like the fact that Louis pays Lestat back in full, and pointedly, that Louis never felt that he had to pay Lestat back at all:

The last line of which is Louis greeting Lestat not as a sugar baby or a housewife walking out to his sugar daddy or husband, but as a business man to his husband.

In fact, the interesting exchange of power in that sequence actually leans to the reverse as Lestat ends up playing host to a new client while Louis lords over an empire.

(You can't see it exactly in these subtitles, but it's Louis who says 'you about five years late', and Lestat honeytrapping with taking the man away).

It's a dynamic that repeats with the musician who tries to leave that Lestat coerces into staying - Louis' king of the castle, and Lestat, the show implies, I feel, plays the placating partner smooting over the edges.

But isn’t Lestat a symbol of patriarchal power in the Rue Royale Household?

I’ve had a couple of asks about this and have a long reply in my drafts that I’ll try and post this weekend, but yes and no? I think in Rue Royale, Lestat’s definitely a symbol of patriarchal power to Claudia, and I think Louis sometimes feels him that way too, but I don’t think it’s actually true for Louis in the way that it is for Claudia. Gender isn’t what divides Louis and Lestat, it’s race, and every time Louis has the chance to exert patriarchal power against anyone outside that house or inside it, he uses it – from coercing Lestat into Claudia's rebirth to physically assaulting Claudia over Lestat’s murder, to even trying to influence her diet and guilting her into staying, to throwing Lestat out of his own house and then fucking him in his lover’s bed (which, obviously, are after Lestat's singular act of violence), to being literally a pimp, strongarming his sister and his mother, to giving less than 0 fucks about Lily’s murder and the attempted anal-rape of Bricktop - - just.

Yeah. There are two patriarchs in the Rue Royale household, and both their names begin with L.

Eldest daughter syndrome

Sometimes men are also eldest siblings who feel the burden of responsibility?

Even beyond that though, I think Louis’ response to Grace is particularly paternalistic, a pattern he’d repeat with Claudia, which I talk about here. I do think Louis has a lot of responsibility and weight on his shoulders as an eldest child, absolutely, and I actually think there’s a lot to talk about in terms of his complex position as brother-father to Paul and Grace in s1 (and I empathise with him intensely in this regard as someone who’s been a sibling’s guardian), but like. That’s not a feminine trait, nor is it one that makes him an eldest daughter. I’m not one, and he’s not one either. Sibling dynamics aren’t cut and paste.

But Louis buys and reads Madame Bovary and obviously relates to Emma

I mean, he doesn’t buy it – the show literally, explicitly makes the point of telling us that it’s Lestat’s copy of the book that he’s reading, which honestly makes sense to me. I talked about it here (where I include the caps of it being Lestat's book too), but Emma as a character cheats because she finds monogamy boring, provincial life even more so and dislikes her daughter, while married to a successful man in a regional town. Louis’ not the Emma in that equation, Lestat is, given he's fucking Antoinette – allegedly because he wants variety – escaped the Auvergne in Paris, and can’t cope with parenthood and/or Claudia.

Interestingly too, Louis’ focus in that scene is on the 'denseness' of the prose and 'the absence of metaphor' not the content, as he ignores Lestat having a meltdown directly opposite him. My interpretation of that scene is that the writing is pointing out exactly how disconnected they are from each other, and that Louis can read a story that parallels a lot of Lestat’s experience, and fail to relate it to, or empathise with Lestat at all, even as Lestat indulges Louis’ depression and hoarding, which ! I love Louis, but Lestat does in that sequence (not that that justifies anything that Lestat does, of course).

Isn’t Louis compared to Juliet and Mélisande?

Mmm, yes and no? Armand does put him in the Juliet role, which Louis riffs with Dreamstat about, but I tend to interpret that more to be about the involvement of the balcony than I do about their roles as Romeo and Juliet – because, y’know. Not everything’s actually about gender, particularly with same sex couples of that era who had limited reference points generally, and certainly limited mainstream ones.

And Melisande - - not at all, actually? I do have to say that I’m a little bit baffled by this particular argument given we have the lyrics to Come to Me and Lestat puts himself in the feminine role of Mélisande (and I actually do think you can mount the argument that he's done that because he’s intending for Antoinette to sing it, which I thought for a long time before hearing Long Face tbh, and now I actually do think it’s deliberately playing into Louis’ sense of masculinity), and he does cast Louis in the masculine role of Pelléas. The chorus literally goes:

Ruin each other Like star-crossed lovers Your Pelléas, my Mélisande Oh, come to me Come to me

So, yeah. Again, that argument just doesn't quite land for me.

Wasn’t he jealous of Grace’s pregnancy though?

Was he? That wasn’t my interpretation, but I’d actually genuinely be interested to hear a case for it, because I feel that’s kind of tasty on a narrative level, haha. My interpretation of that entire sequence though kind of feeds back into that eldest sibling thing again where he a) resented Grace building something of her own before he could, and b) was terrified of the idea that her having her own family would mean that she’d pull way from him which she, of course, did.

I tend to see Louis’ desire to have Claudia as a fairly impulsive one, and I actually see (in the show’verse) his desire to have Lestat be the one to turn her as a part of him further interlocking him and Lestat together, particularly after he's effectively just broken up with Lestat. It's messy! But yeah, I mean, I think 2.07 laid out pretty cleanly that Louis' choice to turn Claudia was inherently a selfish one, and I personally don't see it as one borne out of jealousy so much as needing an anchor.

Anne bases Louis on herself

She also bases Lestat on herself and/or everything she wants to be, and also washes her hands of Louis as a character for books at a time, and like - - I’m sorry, this is not the tone I usually take, but like - - lowkey, who cares? Everyone in this fandom loves death of the author until Anne says one thing they can use to justify their headcanons, and I just don’t really get it. Why are you trying to interpret a vampire novel as a memoir? Obviously it’s not factual? Anne’s not a man, she’s not drinking blood, she’s not romantically entangled with her dead daughter, like I do understand that it can feel noodly sometimes with authors and characters, but as someone who works with a lot of writers, I can promise you they’re dipping in and out of characters like crazy, haha.

It doesn’t mean a character’s them, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re interacting with Anne when you're interacting with Louis, which I suspect a lot of people don’t want anyway? I don't know, personally I view this one as a bit of a non-starter.

Louis’ pretty though

Yeah, he is! He’s your Helen of Troy! He’s beautiful! He’d look amazing in tights and heels! That doesn’t mean he’s canonically femme though.

#louis asks #iwtv asks #maybe there's more arguments?#i feel these are the ones i see the most though #but yeah anon i mean mmm #i think certain discourse took off during the last hiatus tbh #because i was around on the periphery last season and i feel like i came back at the start of s2 to a very different social media climate #so i guess take that as you will #it's interesting though #all in all #me like #will I use a main tag?#y’know what?#yeah maybe #haha #amc interview with the vampire

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v0idhaert · 10 days ago

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scott smajor with number 7 for your spotify asks?

omg anon sorry it took me so long to get to this, but here: Scott smajor with number 7, Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance!

textless and bgless under cut, as well as really long ramble caption vvvvvvv

I hope this is alright! If nothing else, I’m so so proud of drawing hair braiding, that took. So. Long. lol, anyway yeah I also really like how Scott’s hair came out, and I’ve never made a third life Jimmy design before so I came up with this on the fly and I really like how it looks. But yeah, I saw which song it was and thought of them immediately, Scott was so distraught at Jimmy’s death in third life, (prepare for ramble that is mildly unintelligible if you are not really geeky about MCR lore lol. The main stuff you need to understand is that mcr has four albums, I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, The Black Parade, and Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys, and all of them have a lot of lore) like they are so demolition lovers coded, especially because of the whole back from the dead thing where Jimmy is alive and well in later seasons but Scott is still grieving him and the memory thing with winners remembering which means Scott remembers third life and Jimmy doesn’t, reminds me of like (from my understanding of the story, which is different from other peoples because MCR lore is very vague) the inner turmoil of the lover from the three cheers lore who went to hell, and his lover is in heaven and on one hand he wants to reunite but on the other he knows his lover doesn’t even know he’s alive (-ish. Not sure how much his situation qualifies as “living”) and feels guilty, thinking that she probably won’t even want to see him again, because he’s killed so many people and he doesn’t want to ruin her paradise (I mean she misses him too and wants to see him again but he doesn’t know that, and also he rightly recognizes that he is an actual sociopath. I’m not saying c!Scott is crazy (well, as not-crazy as you can be in life series death games. Everyone is at least a little bit off their rocker. Woah, parentheses within parentheses, what is this!?), but I am saying the guy demolition lover absolutely is. I am also saying that c!Scott has self worth issues. At least in my headcannons. I also have a similar headcannon for Joel. Maybe that’s why they hate each other, their mad that they can’t sacrifice themselves for each other and then decided a murderous rivalry was the only option/j ) but yeah so the torturing themselves over a lover who is both dead for them and also at the same time alive and well but unreachable and in a better place than them and wanting to be with them but holding back for fear of hurting them which ends up hurting them anyway (which is also a theme in the black parade, so ig you could also kinda compare Scott to The Patient, but patient always felt more Joel or Pearl coded to me. Also yes I know I already made a post about smalletho demo lovers au, but idk I can have both smalletho and flower husbands demo lovers I just like projecting my interests onto,,,,also my interests ig lol) is something Scott and the sinner demolition lover have in common. Also this song makes me cry. So much. Could barely even draw this through the tears lol/silly, and I’m exaggerating but less than you’d think. Unfortunately I am a crier. I also cry at Summertime from danger days, pretty much all of three cheers but especially I never told you what I do for a living, demolition lovers from bullets (btw for non MCR fans these are album and song names. Also the demo lover’s story starts in bullets with the song titled for them, and then is continued in three cheers for sweet revenge) as well as I don’t love you, wttbp, the end, mama, and famous last words from black parade. And those are just the MCR songs, not counting all the other sad songs from other bands. I am a CRIER lol. But yeah, thank you sm for the ask anon I really enjoyed drawing this!

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baby-yongbok · 1 year ago

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OK I saw an anon asking for another hyunjin fic bc of the vmas (tbfh same) and have an idea for another vmas hyunjin fic (if you’re up for it) hear me out:

apparently people were freaking out the other day bc there was this video going around of Sabrina carpenter waving at hyunjin when it turned OUT she was actually waving to Dixie damelio bc they’re friends…what if y/n saw that and thought she was waving at hyunjin too and got super jealous? I know I would even though I love Sabrina lol. so she starts giving hyunjin the cold shoulder and answering in one word responses etc and he’s confused so she says something like “why don’t you ask your new girlfriend” and he thinks it’s cute that she’s jealous and reveals Sabrina was waving to Dixie not him. And even if she did wave to him, he’s 10000% in love with you and absolutely does not want anyone else. Then after their performance and skz is backstage he pulls you into a closet/private room, locks the door and proves to you just how much he wants/worships you and no one else, in his sweaty state 😫 something like that? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about vmas hyunjin either and who can blame me

ps I’ve written to you before and idk if you take emojis for anons but if so can I be 🪽 anon? I love your writing sm and I know I’ll be back! I wanna be friends but I’m a lil shy lol… 🙂

I DID IT. IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, DON'T HATE ME. 😭 Here you go, my love ❣️🪽

Let Me Show You

Hyunjin × Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3,442

Warnings: Semi-public sex?, Cum tasting (That should be it ❣️)

✨️Masterlist✨️ ✨️My First VMA Fic✨️

Surely you were seeing things right? You had to be seeing things. Maybe it was the stage lights or the adrenaline from the boys' win getting to you but you swear that the very beautiful and very talented Sabrina Carpenter just tried to shoot her shot at your equally as beautiful and talented boyfriend. Maybe it was harmless, Sabrina is a K-pop fan so maybe she was just trying to grab his attention and give him a friendly thumbs up or something.

You check your phone while you make your way backstage to meet the boys, of course they’re trending on every app that you have but a particular twitter post catches your eye. You stop in the middle of the very busy backstage hallway as you read the video caption for the third time, ‘Are Sabrina Carpenter and Hyunjin flirting?!’. You click on the video quickly, bringing the phone closer to your face as if you could zoom in on the interaction. It’s right there, it’s in very poor quality but it’s there nonetheless. Hyunjin definitely gave Sabrina a look and according to the video he did it more than once. You can feel your stomach turn as an emotion runs over you but you can’t figure out if it’s anger or jealousy, maybe it’s both? You take a deep breath and start walking again, you stuff your phone into your purse and shake your head a bit to try and get your thoughts together. This is a big night for the boys and you don’t want to ruin it for them by having an attitude but you also don’t know how to deal with this cocktail of emotion bubbling in your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Baby, can you help me put this on?” Hyunjin holds his necklace out in your direction and you take it from him quietly. He furrows his brows a bit before turning around and allowing you to put the jewelry on him. He noticed your shift in attitude since they got their award but he thought that maybe you were just overwhelmed. He watched you as they got ready for their stage, you laughed with everyone and were talking to staff casually but when it came to him you were silent and short spoken. He instantly started replaying the last hour or so in his head. What could he have done to upset you?

“Thank you.” He turns to you and leans in to kiss your cheek but you pull back slightly, looking in the opposite direction. “Angel, is everything alright?”

“Yup.” Your eyes look everywhere but at him, even when he moves to your side to sit next to you.

“Are you sure? You’ve been quiet, did I do something to upset you?” He places his hand on your knee and you promptly cross your legs to get him to move his hand. You shrug your shoulders in response. Your gaze falls on Felix as he takes pictures of everyone in their finished looks. “Baby, come on.”

“Don’t you have someone else to talk to?” You huff, an over exaggerated sigh following your statement.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Hyunjins brows knit together as he racks his brain trying to understand what you’re referring to.

“Why don’t you ask Sabrina? You seem pretty interested in her.” You roll your eyes and Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at your sharp remark. Felix had shown him a couple of the trending tweets along with the video of Sabrina waving in his direction, they laughed about it and Hyunjin told the guys that she definitely wasn’t waving at him and if she was he didn’t even notice her.

“Ah, you saw that video?” You shift in your seat scoffing at his question. A small smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, you don’t get jealous often but gosh was it hot. Something about you giving him the cold shoulder turned Hyunjin on, maybe it was the way you rolled your eyes at him and how sassy you were everytime he tried to touch you. Whatever it was, he was enjoying it.

“Everyone saw the video, so yeah.” You bite back, glancing at him for only a second before looking back over towards the rest of the boys.

“Baby, she wasn’t waving at me and even if she was I didn’t notice her. I was looking at the Stays that were seated in that direction.” Your heart starts to hammer in your chest as his words sink in. You can feel a blush spreading over your cheeks and a tinge of embarrassment in your core. He had pointed out the row of Stays in that direction earlier in the night but in the heat of the moment you completely forgot about it.

“Why would I look at her when I have the most stunning woman in the world here with me tonight, hm?” He snakes his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. “Is my jealous girl blushing?”

You hide your face in his chest, trying to avoid his gaze. How embarrassing is this? Looks like you got jealous for nothing.

“Look at me, angel.” Hyunjin tries his best to gently pry you away from him but he’s interrupted by Chan calling everyone to get ready to go over to the stage. You look up, only because you know he has to go but his fingers catch your chin before you can look away again. Your shy gaze meets his and he smiles down at you, but it’s not a regular smile. It’s the type that he uses when he’s up to something. He plants a quick kiss on your lips before standing and holding his hand out to you.

“Come, you can watch on the backstage monitor.” You take his hand reluctantly, an apologetic smile on your face. He shakes his head, chuckling a bit.

“My possessive baby.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The boys absolutely killed their set but that was to be expected. You heard loud clapping and cheering as they made their way from the stage, a mixture of praises both towards the boys and the dancers. You join the busy crowd, clapping and looking through the sea of people for Hyunjin. Suddenly, you feel large hands on your waist and you turn around to see your boyfriend looking down at you with a grin. He’s sweaty and his breathing still hasn’t calmed down completely, He’s discarded the vest that he had on during the performance leaving him in only his black tank top. You open your mouth to congratulate him but he puts a finger over his lips, hushing you before taking your hand and pulling you with him. He makes his way in the opposite direction of the boys, towards the quieter part of the venue. You recognize the hallway from when the boys took pictures earlier, Hyunjin leads you into a small cut off hallway where some extra supplies seem to be stored. He closes the door behind you, placing a piece of paper over the latch so that you two don’t get locked in. He turns to you and you look up at him with confusion woven in your features.

“What are we doing here?” You look around thinking that maybe you missed something.

“You know that you mean the world to me, right?” Your heart starts hammering in your chest again, your grip on your clutch purse growing tighter as embarrassment washes over you again.

“I know, I’m sorry I should’ve asked you instead of drawing conclusions.”

“Don’t apologize, you were being protective of what’s yours.” Hyunjin takes a couple of steps towards you, one hand sliding into the pocket of his brown designer pants.

“You know that I’m yours, right?” Your mouth goes dry when you take in his deepened tone, what exactly did he bring you here to do? You press your thighs together, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Your black form fitting dress rides up a bit from movement. “Answer me, angel.”

“Yes, I know you’re mine.” You clear your throat, trying not to show how much his words are affecting you.

“I only want you, you’re the only woman I ever think about, the only woman I ever look at.” He steps closer, reaching up to cup your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his hand. His fingers brush against your lips. “Do you believe me?”

You shake your head, opening your eyes to meet his. He smiles at you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, melting into him. Your arms find a home around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue parts your lips, slipping into your mouth and stealing a taste of you. You moan into his mouth and he smiles against your lips. He pushes you back gently, prompting you to take a step back. He leads you backwards until your back hits the wall, you gasp, breaking the kiss and Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to trail soft kisses over your jaw and down your neck.

“Hyunjin…we can’t do this here.” Your words are anything but convincing and you know for a fact that you don’t mean them. After the rush of jealousy that you felt earlier topped off with the breathtaking performance that he just put on with the boys’ you know that your body is more than ready for him.

“Let me show just how much I love you.” He plants a wet kiss right below your ear before whispering. “I want you to feel how much I want you, only you.”

Hyunjin presses himself against you and you moan at the feeling of his hard dick straining against his pants. “Only you do that to me.”

“Hyunjin.” His name leaves your lips in a breathy moan, you can’t think of anything else to possibly say. He’s completely fogged your mind.

He starts leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your neck, rough yet slow actions of affection. His hands trace up your sides, lightly scratching at the fabric of your Versace cocktail dress, dragging the fabric up your soft skin and exposing your plush thighs.You trail your free hand down his arm, moving to palm him through his pants but one of his hands swiftly grabs your wrist, pinning your arm to the wall behind you.

“This is about you, baby. Only you.” He whispers against your skin before his lips make their way down to your chest, sucking and biting at your skin leaving red marks in his wake. His other hand grips at your waist, pulling you towards him and making you arch your back off of the wall.

“I’m all yours baby.” He slides down onto his knees. Sitting in front of you, his large hands trailing down the soft skin of your legs. He looks up at you, his sparkling eyes surrendering to you. “I would never worship another woman like this in my life.”

He leans forward, pressing soft kisses to the outside of your thigh and making his way to the sensitive skin leading to your core. You spread your legs a bit to give him better access and he groans at the gesture. His hands snake up under your dress, he hooks his thumbs into the thin straps of your thong and leads the garment down your legs. You step out of them, and Hyunjin wastes no time bringing them up to his nose and taking a deep inhale.

“Fuck, I love the smell of you.” His words are breathy yet stable, he stuffs your thong into his pocket, a treasure for him to remember this moment by. He peers up into your attentive yet fucked out gaze, watching you as he sneaks the pad of his pointer finger up to caress your soaked folds. You jump at the contact, a deep moan leaving your throat, you hadn’t realized how much you needed his touch until now. You relax as he runs his finger up and down your heat, circling your clit and teasing your entrance a bit. Your hips buck against his hand, silently begging him to stretch you. Small whimpers fall from your parted lips as you keep your eyes on his.

“You sound so beautiful, angel. You’re so fucking perfect.” He pushes his finger into you slowly, curling it upward to caress your g-spot. You bring your hand up to your mouth in an attempt to drown out your moans. Hyunjin shakes his head, fucking his finger into you a bit faster. “Let them hear you, I don’t care who it is, Let them hear what I do to you.”

“Hyun- Fuck” He adds another finger, scissoring them inside of you to stretch you out. “Oh my god, that's so good.”

“Only the best for you, this is only for you.” He leans up on his knees, sticking his tongue out and licking up the wetness dripping down your inner thigh. His tongue works its way over to your cunt, flicking your clit at a delicious pace that makes your back arch off of the wall further. He hums against you as you buck your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling as you beg him to keep going. He keeps up the pace, his tongue never stopping until you're finally pushed over the edge. You cry out in bliss as you cum hard, your body trembling with pleasure. He laps up every bit of your arousal that he can catch, leaving light kisses on your swollen clit as he allows you to come down from your high just a bit.

“You taste like heaven” Hyunjin groans as he pulls away from you, licking his lips to clean up the mess you made. Your mind is clouded with lust, the jealousy from earlier nearly forgotten. The only thing on your mind now is how badly you want the man in front of you. How badly you need him inside of you.

“I can feel like heaven for you too.”

“This is about you, angel.”

“Then fuck me, please. If this is about me then make me forget about that stupid tweet. You’d do anything to please me right?” Hyunjin, stands from his position in front of you. Your eyes stay locked on his dark ones as he towers over you.

“I’d do anything to please you.” His words are soft and strong, he leans into you, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, the gentle nature that Hyunjin held seconds ago melting away into a frenzied lust.

“You drive me insane.” He whispers against your lips and you moan into his mouth. Your hands run down his clothed chest, taking in his firm core and his shirt damp with sweat. You run your hand over his hard cock, palming and stroking him. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat, he breaks the kiss and his jaw hangs open in bliss. You look up at him, watching as he bites his lip with his eyes shut tight, concentrating on the way your fingers move against him.

“I want you to fuck me like she’s watching.” Hyunjin groans deeply, furrowing his brows at your words. “Show her that you’re taken.”

Your words flipped a switch in Hyunjins head, he grabs your hip, turning you around and swiftly pulling your dress up to expose your bare ass. He lands a firm smack on both of your ass cheeks, the sound echoing throughout the room.

“I’ll show her.” He presses his clothed bulge against you and you can feel him unbuttoning his pants with one hand. “I’ll show her who I belong to.”

He runs his hands over your bare skin, his touch gentle yet possessive. He leans in and whispers in your ear “I’ll let everyone know I’m yours.”

You gasp as you feel his cock part your dripping folds, stretching you out deliciously. He pushes in slowly, allowing you a bit of time to adjust to him. Your moans fill the air as he slides into you, once he bottoms out he leans forward, pressing you into the wall so that you’re flush against him.

“I’m yours” He moans as he starts to move, his hips pushing against yours in a rhythm that intensifies with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the hallway but is easily drowned out by your shared moans. Your head falls back against Hyunjin’s chest giving him the perfect view of your fucked out expression. He leans down, leaving soft kisses on your forehead, a sweet contrast to the rough thrust of his hips.

“You’re mine.” Your words make Hyunjin’s hips stutter, pushing into you deeper, he bites his lip as he takes it all in. The way you’re clenching around him, your moans mixing with his, the way the head of his cock hits your sweet spot. It all drives him closer to the edge.

“You were right.” His thrusts become faster and harder and you squeeze around him as you draw closer to your release, meeting his rhythm with pleasure. “You do feel like heaven.”

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he comes undone, his moans mingle with yours as he fills you. The feeling of his hot release throws you over the edge, you fall apart seconds after him, his name falls from your lips like a chant as your pleasure washes over you. You both still, his dick stays deep inside of you as you both try to catch your breath.

“Thank you.” Hyunjin hums in response, soft pants falling from his lips.

“For what?”

“For showing me that you’re mine, this might’ve been the best type of reassurance ever.” You chuckle and he follows, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself. But, please remember that I mean this, there’s never anyone on my mind but you. You’re all I think about.” His sweet words send a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to clench around him.

“Oh fuck.” Hyunjin groans with a chuckle and you can’t help but to smile. “I need to pull out, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if you do that again.”

He slides out of you slowly, whines escape both of you from the sensitivity of the action. He tucks himself back into his pants and you turn around to face him, still leaning on the wall for support.

“How am I supposed to go back out there with your cum dripping out of me?” You look down at the mixed arousal running down your leg and Hyunjin smiles at you.

“Here.” You watch him as he kneels before you, dipping his tongue out and licking the stream of cum running down your leg. A groan falls from your lips as you watch him taste your mixed arousals. He trails his tongue up your leg, collecting all of the juices that drip from you until he reaches your swollen cunt. He runs his tongue over the sensitive flesh and you shiver in response, your head falling back against the wall and a moan escaping you.

“Baby, I’m so sensitive.” Hyunjin hums in response and the feeling of the sound vibrating through you makes you clench around nothing. He dips his tongue into your hole, lapping up most of your arousal and cleaning your cunt to perfection. Once he’s satisfied he pulls away and stands, wiping his chin clean and smiling at you. He gives you a moment to recover before taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Next time that you get jealous just remember that you and I are made for each other. We’re perfect together.” You smile up at him and he leans forward kissing you with wet lips. He parts your lips with his tongue and gently runs his over yours. The taste of your mixed arousals flood your mouth and you relish the flavor. He breaks the kiss just as you move to deepen it, a slight whine falling from your lips. He grins down at you before running his thumb over your swollen bottom lip

“See? Don’t we taste good together? I only want you to mix with me, no one else, okay?” You nod your head, a sweet fucked out smile pulling at your lips. “I love you, angel”

“I love you too, baby.”

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debonairprincesposts · 9 months ago

Note

hi!! idk if requests are open, but ill just leave this here in case they are.

can I request lucifer and alastor (separate plz) with an imp s/o? just general headcanons :)

General head-canons of Lucifer and Alastor with an imp s/o.

Not a problem Anon! I take requests at random. But here are the head-canons u requested! Hope they’re to your liking.

Enjoy! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

Lucifer:

▫️ Lucifer is the type of person who would literally do anything you asked and get it done as fast as he could.

Let’s say that you came home from work and you’re tired, hungry, and completely drained.

You didn’t even have time to say anything

The moment he takes in your disheveled state, he would immediately scoop you up in his arms, put you in your pajamas, make you your favorite food then lets you eat it on the couch with your favorite tv show on, then proceed to put your legs on his lap to massage your feet and ask how your day went.

Totally empathizes with you when you complain about how your boss was a total jerk.

Asks if you need him to “talk” with your boss real quick.

Obviously you say no.

Is definitely the type to make short jokes

Even if he isn’t that much taller than you

He’s excited to finally have someone shorter than him, leave him be!

While you’re trying to reach something off a high shelf or something, he would definitely be like, “Need help, my love?” While smirking and looking all smug.

Tries to reach for it but he’s too short

Ends up using his magic to get it

When he hands it to you all embarrassed cuz he couldn’t reach it himself, you just smirk in amusement and kiss him on the cheek, “Thanks, love.”

Doesn’t matter how long you guys have been together, he still blushes at the pet names.

He calls you “My love” “Little Duckling” “Honey”

You call him “Darling” “love” “Luci”

Thinks you give the best cuddles.

Like, you’re definitely the perfect size for him for him to just scoop up and put you on his lap. Loves nuzzling his face at the back of your neck when he does.

Leaves a few kisses there too.

Absolutely loves it when you cup his face and just litter the entirety of it with kisses.

Blushes and smiles like a lovesick fool each and every time.

Fiddles with your tail when you sit on his lap.

Lets you pet his wings when you’re upset

Loves being big spoon because it makes him feel like he can protect you cuz of how small you are.

Sometimes when he went to sleep early and you had to stay up late to finish some work, he’d get a nightmare and go to your office wearing his duck pajamas with a blanket around his shoulders while holding a pillow with his hair looking disheveled. He’d stand infront of the door and keep looking at you with cute puppy eyes, all big and glistening, filled with tears until you get off your desk and lead him back to the bedroom to cuddle his nightmares away.

Appreciates it every time.

Makes sure you know it through mumbles in between kisses he leaves on your hand when you spoon him.

Loves being spooned after nightmares

Just very grateful he has you in his life now. He just loves you so much.

Alastor:

He would quite literally kill for you

Seems to be obsessed with you on an unhealthy level

But you love it and think it’s cute so you don’t care. Plus, he’d never hurt you.

He loves you too much to even think of hurting you

He made a deal with you to make sure he never could

Absolutely hates physical contact

But if it’s you then he doesn’t mind :)

Makes you jambalaya during the time he knows you would arrive home.

Massages your shoulders while you eat and asks about your day

Despises your boss for causing you stress

The only reason he hasn’t killed him yet is because you said no

He’d never disobey you

Your word is basically law

If you’re upset, he’d take you to his room, lay your head on his lap, rubs you head and horns, and sing for you

If that’s not enough, he’d lay his head on your lap instead and lets you play with his ears

You find that they’re very fluffy

You let him know that

One time while you guys were out, a bullet almost hit you.

He killed the sinner responsible immediately

Always made sure he was out with you from then on

Doesn’t matter what you’re doing. He’s going with you

Loves to make you flustered with all his nice fancy pet names. Loves to call you “Darling” “Dear” “Little Doe”

Your pet names for him are “Al” “Sweetie” “love”

Loves playing with your tail when you sit on his lap.

Would literally do anything you ask

He loves you that much

I think I went a bit overboard. I enjoyed writing this tho! And I hope you enjoyed reading it too ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

Thank you anon for this wonderful request! I hope it was up to your standards :)

Anyway! Stay healthy and hydrated y’all

Bye Babes!

-DebonairPrince

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin headcanons #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader fluff

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thriftedtchotchkes · 2 years ago

Note

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you.

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips.

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again.

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin.

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going.

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad.

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion.

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for.

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again.

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down.

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum."

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out.

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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superblysubpar · 10 months ago

Text

Princesses Can Slay Dragons Too:

dad!eddie munson x mom!fem!reader

an Easy Like Sunday Morning story

summary: you're overworked and stressed, Eddie's an oblivious but well meaning husband & dad, and a trip to the cabin with familiar faces might be just what you all needed. | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

7.7k words (listen, I know it has no business being this long. I worked on it for a year. Idk what happened, okay?)

warnings: please read the new "general warnings" on the masterlist linked above - "reader" has a "name/nickname", mentions of Ronance, mentions of alcohol, mom stress and a little bit of description of some blood/injury and parental panic/ descriptions of shock about it. There is a twinge of "poetic", quick descriptions of smut as well as brief discussion of "unplanned" pregnancies.

This started from an ask last March, which I've since lost (so sorry anon if you're still out there), and it grew and sat and grew some more and then sat some more and now here it is. I've grown very, extremely, emotionally proud and fond of it. Hope ya like it! 💛

Summer, 2004

“Baby, volume,” your voice calls out over the faint music playing, the thrum of wheels against the highway and the wind. Eyes remain shut, but furrowed lines form above your brows when you hear the familiar ding of a coin being grabbed. A palm rests on your thigh, fingers squeeze gently around it as the music of the level starts its loop again.

You need a coffee. Or thirty. Yes, thirty is good.

“Squirt,” his tone full of warning, yet somehow still sounding sweeter than the syrup that clings to all of their fingers and the gray fabric of the old van’s seats.

Despite the early morning breakfast stop at McDonald’s being nearly twenty-four hours ago, and your insistence on packed sandwiches and veggies for lunch, and a stop for a sit down dinner - the stale scent of greasy food feels heavy in the air. Which has your brain cycling through the list that will rid your family of the trip when you reach your final destination - get out of the car, wrangle them into pajamas, teeth brushed, fight about sleeping when it’s already almost morning, clothes into washing machine, air out the car, make the grocery list for the week…

Screw coffee - you need a shower, you need a shot of alcohol, you already need a vacation from your vacation.

A particularly loud grunt and the sound of something hitting or fighting or shooting has you opening your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them to find the dark highway lit by two gold headlights, showing off the yellow lines flashing past the driver’s window. Your mouth parts, ready to be the one to tell them no, like you always are, when he stops you.

He grabs your hand, his thumb soothing over your knuckles as his voice drifts gently into the backseat, “Come on, I don’t wanna take it away…”

It’s endearing, the way he always tries, the way he gives them a couple of chances. Because at this point, you’re ready to take the damn game and chuck it out the window. This level is haunting you, all you’ve heard every second of every day, even when you’re peeing or trying to shower. You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming in the pixelated graphics, the sound effects now accompanying your daily tasks.

A loud sigh falls from the backseat and with it, you’re certain the console is nudged one level lower.

You hate that of all of your children, the one most like him is still awake.

Sure, they’re all little gremlins, heathens, as he likes to call them - little tenacious mini monster versions of him that drive you up the wall but somehow make your chest ache with too much love.

But this one, this one takes the cake every time.

Eddie beats you to it again, the silver of his rings glinting in the green light of the dashboard as he lets go of your hand to reach into the back without looking. Out of the corner of your eye you see his bicep flexing, gently shaking the tiny knee in his big hand as he talks to the road sternly, “Lace. Volume off completely until I say otherwise, or Mario and Luigi are my best friends the rest of the week, capisce?”

“Caposh,” she grumbles, big red chucks swinging up towards the console and back down, her little legs don’t quite touch the ground yet, much to her dismay.

You keep reminding her that she has lots of time to be as big as her siblings, that her ever growing shoe size and the jeans you bought for the upcoming school year (which she’s already complaining are too tight - remember, you need to ask Katie about hand me downs from Liv, or shit, maybe even Grace, this weekend) tell you she is going to keep growing - and fast. Part of you can’t wait, and the other part wishes she’d slow down.

The sound vanishes completely and Eddie’s hand finds its way to your thigh again when you sigh. The part that wishes she’d grow up faster stirs, lit by the flicker of resentment when she listens to him so easily and not you.

Eddie’s fingers run up your thigh, then back down, skin beneath the denim buzzing as he squeezes softly and clears his throat.

“I think someone deserves an apology though, don’t you? ‘Cause I believe I heard you were asked already…”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks and you can’t help but look over your shoulder at her when she does.

For once, her eyes are on you and not the game, big and brown - just like his - and truly sorry. You smile softly as her brows furrow under bangs that just refuse to stay straight. She blows them away with a big huff as she whines, “It’s just so hard.”

Your head nods, temple resting on the seat as you murmur, “Yeah, I know. Thank you for turning the volume off when your dad asked though, I really appreciate it.”

Eddie swallows, his finger aimlessly circles over the skin above your knee as he blinks at the road.

He’s always amazed when you do that.

Far more patient than anyone deserves, far more understanding than any of them appreciate, and much too good to him. For him. Especially with how things have been lately.

Eddie knew it’d been a little rough, with him being gone so much and the kids’ schedules just growing more cramped as they got older - summer was no longer the lazy days of kids riding around on their bikes and doing squat. It was full of sports and clubs, friends, all requiring a constant need to be dropped off, picked up, carted too and fro on seemingly hellbent on never lining up schedules. He’d been trying, he really had, to help you balance it all, but he had tunnel vision for things at work, he was so focused on his own shit he didn’t realize how much everything was affecting you.

How much being alone with three kids, two goldfish (scratch that, one, but still), a dog, and a house that seemed to have endless tasks to keep it running was breaking you.

He finds your hand and pulls interlaced fingers to his lips, kissing your knuckles, your wrist, your palm, all while keeping his eyes on the road. You close yours again, trying to focus on the soft press of his lips to your skin and not the reason why he’s doing it.

You know he’s thinking about last weekend.

On Friday, Caroline had complained that you only sewed new straps on her ballet slippers instead of getting new ones altogether. She was practically in tears because all the other girls in class had new leotards, new skirts, and new shoes and you promised you’d figure something out. She retreated with red cheeks and a slam of the bedroom door, stereo blaring behind it, the cusp of terrible teenage years promising to be worse than the twos.

After that, Michael shoved you off when you tried to hug him as you dropped him at the school for a baseball practice with an exasperated, “God, mom, stop!” - nine was grown up and he was much too cool to be a momma’s boy anymore apparently.

And to top it all off, Lacey had been following you around the house, that stupid game dinging and singing everywhere you went, one of the fish died and Lacey asked when it was coming back, and you somehow burnt the hamburger helper for dinner.

When Eddie got home, he found you hunched over the coffee table next to a precariously placed glass of red wine, a sock in one hand and a shirt in the other, piles of laundry neatly folded around you and your favorite movie playing on the TV. If it weren’t for the position that was sure to have your back feeling rough tomorrow, your soft, even breathing revealed you were dead asleep.

He had tried to ease you up, move you to the bedroom while trying not to wake you like he used to when his body was much younger, but you had shot up at the touch of his hand, the lightest sleeper of a mother of three. You blinked heavy eyelids while mumbling through sleep thick words about lunches for the two eldest who would be gone all the next day. Eddie had assured you he’d make them, and you were fairly certain you were back to sleep before your head touched the pillow.

The next day though, something inside of you snapped.

It had been better than the one before, but not great. You hadn’t showered, there was a leak in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten any better all week. The only break you had all day was picking the kids up from their activities, and making them a snack as soon as they dropped gear in haphazard piles in the entryway.

After hours on hold, you just started clanging around with tools you didn’t know how to use, your head throbbing from the lack of coffee or water and the sound of Mario grabbing another coin somewhere to your right.

Where was the real plumber you had asked Eddie to call? Maybe, if you concentrated hard enough, Mario would leap out of Lacey’s console, climb down the drain, and fight off the little mushroom guy who was-

You smacked the wrench against the pipe, repeatedly, like it had personally threatened you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart, stop! You’re gonna break it!”

Eddie grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to see him standing with pizza boxes and staring at you with wide, blinking eyes. For a second, the sight of short curls starting to gray on the ends and lines next to eyes that were constantly squinting because he was smiling or refusing to wear sunglasses, had you forgetting you were mad, or stressed or…maybe you were just tired?

He cocked his head, trying to catch the gaze you let fall to the floor quickly as the kids shrieked about him being home. Eddie didn’t even get his question of if you were okay out before arms were wrapped around his waist and legs, all vying for his attention.

You had swiped at your nose to ward off the familiar sting, pulled down plates and started filling glasses of milk and juice, before shoving the casserole you’d had prepped into the freezer.

Then he snapped his fingers, smoothing a hand over Caroline’s hair and said, “Oh, hold on. I think you’re gonna like what else I brought home a lot more than the pizza.”

He left for the hallway, returning quickly, holding something behind his back that she tried to peek at and he tsked, singing, “Uh-uh-uh. Hold on. Your mom told me you were upset about your ballet slippers…”

Your shoulders rose, the pour of apple juice freezing over the glass.

He didn’t.

He smiled at you, oblivious, then at Caroline’s squeal of excitement and he kept going, “These aren’t new, but my co-worker’s daughter barely used them and…Ta-da!”

Eddie held out a shoebox with essentially brand new shoes and your body felt numb as you listened to her scream how much she loved them and him, squeezing him in a fierce hug as he kissed her temple.

Caroline held them up to you, proudly, and you smiled, nodding, saying something, you don’t even remember what. You ushered everyone to the table.

Lacey stood next to her chair, eyes darting over the hand-held game clutched in her fingers.

“Lacey, put it away, time for dinner.”

Ding! Bloop, bloop, bloop blah-bloop-de-bloop.

Eddie slapped pizza onto plates, licking stray sauce from his thumb, “How was everyone’s day? What’d you do?”

“Lacey, I’m not telling you again. Put the game away.”

Her eyes flew up to yours, something fiery and far to recognizable behind them that made you blink as she just said, “No.”

“Oh!” Eddie passed you pizza, oblivious, “How was lunch? Did dad do as good as mom?” He ruffled Michael’s hair as your daughter and you glared at each other.

Caroline nodded her head enthusiastically around a too big bite and Michael turned to you, pizza in his mouth on display as he talked, “It was so good. Can dad make our lunches every day? His was way better.”

You stood up from the table, without warning and without a word, walked to your bedroom, and slammed the door.

Were you having an adult tantrum? Maybe. Were you proud of it? Absolutely not. But the rush of tears that fell down your cheeks and the sob that overtook you was the kind of angry crying you simply do in private and you had needed to get there quick.

Footsteps jogged down the hallway behind you, the sound causing you to turn the lock on your bedroom door through blurry vision and gasps around your tears. As the knob tried to turn, you moved away with a hand over your mouth until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Babe, open the door.” Eddie’s voice was soft as the knob rattled again.

“Liv, what the hell, open the door.”

You choked on a sob, fingers still over your lips so you barely got out, “I’m fine, Eddie, just…have dinner without me. I’ll eat later.”

The handle spun back and forth again, the sound of his forehead hitting the wood and his pained tone slicing through you, “Olivia, please open the door.”

You curled yourself on top of the bed, watching the handle through blurry vision slowly stop moving. Closing your eyes as the tears fell swiftly, you prayed it was the kind of crying that would just knock you out and put you to sleep, because god, did you need to sleep.

Only a few minutes later, maybe not even, the door swung open to reveal Eddie on his knees with a flashlight between his lips and a screwdriver in his hands and you, sobbing on the bed.

He jumped up at the sight of you curling your arms around your waist harder, at the way you rolled away from him and pressed your wet cheek into the pillow. At the way your hoarse voice called out, “Please leave me alone Eddie.”

The door closed, the lock clicked, and there was a distinct sound of both items he held dropping to the carpet with thuds. The bed dipped and the heat of his body curled behind you, fingers gently brushed over the damp skin of your cheek and neck.

Your body shook with more tears, eyes squeezing closed tighter when he pressed his nose to the back of your head while his arm wrapped around your waist, and he waited.

The tears eventually slowed, your chest started to fall and rise more evenly, and the light filtering in through your curtains started to turn lavender, then blue. Eddie managed to remove your jeans without waking you, and he pulled the duvet up over your shoulder as he bit his lower lip raw. Your face still didn’t look relaxed, like it was crying and worrying even in your sleep.

He left the room with with his fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, walking past the bathroom where water sloshed over the counter and soap slid down the-

Taking several steps backwards, his mouth opened, then closed at the sight in front of him, before he finally found his words and quietly asked, “Whatcha doing?”

His three children stood in a line in the mirror, looking at him in the reflection. Lacey held a stack of plates and silverware on the left, on her toes, pink socks (that were supposed to be white, but there must have been a laundry incident he was unaware of) fully submerged in bubbles, her little arms hoisting them to rest on the counter halfway. Caroline stood in front of the overflowing, sudsy sink, her hands invisible inside it, and Michael next to her with a rag and plate.

“We’re washing the dishes,” Caroline shrugged, like it was obvious.

He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at his jaw as he hummed, “I…see that. Why are you doing that in here?”

The three kids blinked at him, and he tried not to smile, because you weren’t kidding that they eerily looked like him when they did that. They were all clearly confused, and then Michael said, “The kitchen sink is broken. It has been all week.”

Eddie closed his eyes, your cursing under your breath and beating up of the pipes when he got home making much more sense now.

All week? Why hadn’t you told him?

Shit, had you told him?

He cleared his throat and he tapped on the frame. “Right. Well, thank you for doing them. Try to stay quiet, mom’s sleeping.”

His body had barely turned out the door before Caroline called out, nervously, “Is she okay?”

Eddie wasn’t a fan of lying, even if it was to protect feelings. But the sight of his three kids with concern evident on each of their faces told him they’d know if he did anyways. Something told him they already knew she wasn’t and it was him who didn’t know the answer.

He sighed, entered the room deeper and kissed the tops of each of their heads, before he threw some towels over the floor that had puddles of water accumulating.

“I think she really needs to sleep, and I’ll talk to her later. But I think you guys doing the dishes really helps. Thank you.”

So while his kids did the dishes in the bathroom sink and you slept, the dog and…one…? goldfish kept him company in the kitchen where he inspected the sink.

It was an easy fix, but he didn’t have the part, and his stomach tensed with guilt as he thought about how you probably, definitely, asked him to look at it or call someone right away and he forgot. A simple drive down the street to the hardware store tomorrow, he’d have it fixed in less than an hour.

He put the tools away in the garage, above the label for them that you must have made and he went into the small office space in search of a post-it to put on the sink. The office was intended for you, but years and kids and projects went by and soon it became a dumping ground of all things house.

When he reached the desk, he found what he was looking for. There were plenty of post-its, in a variety of colors, lined up in a neat row above a large, tightly and neatly filled calendar.

Eddie swallowed as his fingers brushed over the names of his kids, him, the fucking dog and fish - all with their own color. The house, the bills, the errands…all of it had colors, schedules, a science, a system.

But the thing was, you weren’t a part of the system - you were the system.

There was nowhere, in that entire calendar, that had anything remotely relaxing for you on it. No dinner or wine night with any of the girls. No book club with Nancy anymore, maybe because they moved, but he had a feeling it still wouldn’t be there if they hadn’t. No dates with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he took you out, or hell, made you dinner - when was the last time he even cooked dinner for the whole family?

He swallowed as he read over the entire month, and the next and the next. Anything that would have been considered free time, or your time was full of laundry, grocery shopping, dusting the fucking baseboards, because apparently you do everything?

And Eddie knew he had colosally, monumentally, brutally, fucked up.

So when the kids were in bed, and the kitchen was clean, and the lunches for the next day were packed, and the laundry was folded and put away, Eddie crawled back into bed behind you.

He didn’t think you were awake, carefully letting his arm curl around you and his lips brush your shoulder in a wordless goodnight, an apology, a promise to talk about it as soon as you woke up. But then your words floated out and hung in the dark room and a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie sniffled, trying to reign it in, he cleared his throat, but you were already rolling to face him and he had his palms pressed to his eyes as his words left him all scratchy and on the brink of a full blown sob.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare fucking say it again.”

Your fingers had curled around his wrists and tugged gently, until watery eyes were blinking at your own and you shrugged and whispered, “But I am.”

His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, noses squished together and gasps of air between parting mouths, fingers clutching at hips and necks as your legs tangled.

When was the last time he fucking kissed you like he meant it? Like it wasn’t a quick goodbye, goodmorning, or a hey, doll, how was your day as he half listened?

He shook his head, mouth catching yours in quick kisses between each softly spoken word, “No, I am.”

Your palms pressed to his cheek as your leg hitched over his thigh, breathless as he traveled over your jaw and down your neck for the first time in what felt like months.

Maybe it had been.

“Can you,” you tugged on short curls behind his ears as his tongue traced your collarbone which made you both groan, “Jus-just let me apologize?”

Eddie practically growled out the word no before his lips were back on yours.

It was fast fingers pulling at clothing and sharp teeth nipping at lips and skin, no foreplay, ‘just fuck me’ quick, and quietly because of the kids, kind of sex, until it wasn’t.

It only took him three thrusts to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. Quickly becoming memorizing touches that glided over skin and held with care, it was lips that whispered apologies and all the things he loved about you into yours, quiet and passionate pushing and pulling with each other, and hands gripping the others as you came together and said everything you couldn’t with intense eye contact, fingers deep in the curls at the back of his head as his name left your mouth only to be swallowed by his.

His lips brushed down your shoulder and back up, over your collarbone and chest as your fingers scratched at his scalp gently.

He hummed against your throat before whispering, “I think we should go to the cabin next week.”

“Eddie…” you started softly, already panicking about the missed events the kids would have to make up, the packing, the-

“Stop,” he kissed your jaw, then hovered over your face so his big, brown, sweet eyes could look down at you, “I can hear the stress coming out of you, and I just got it all out.”

You laughed quietly, fingers pressing to your eyes as you shook your head. Unconvinced, and if you were tired before, he’d just made you even more so.

Eddie kissed at your fingers, your nose, your cheek until he was nudging at the fingers again with his nose.

“Baby, I promise, it’ll be a good vacation. I think we could all use it. And I swear, I’ll be the parent. You kick your heels up and get drunk on shitty wine with Katie, okay?”

And here you were, doing just that.

The late/early morning arrival was not the shit show you were sure it was going to be. The kids listened immediately about being quiet entering the cabin at the late hour, especially after Eddie said if everyone woke up, the entire day on the lake would be ruined.

You woke up, without an alarm, for the first time in…you didn’t know how long. Greeted in the kitchen by Steve’s wife, Katie, quietly squealing and grabbing you in a hug that seemed to melt the tension from your shoulders. Eddie handed you a steaming cup of a coffee accompanied with a kiss on your temple and a swat to Steve’s chest when he tried to do the same.

The kids were already showered, dressed, fed - fruit and waffles and minimal syrup thankfully - and outside playing. You had your suspicions this was all largely due to Steve and his wife’s doing. If you dwelled on it too long, the comparison to how much better they were at the whole parenting thing than you could drive you insane, so you tried to ignore it.

There was only one argument with Lacey about the Nintendo, and Eddie snatched it and pocketed it and simply shrugged at her scowl when he did and said, “Told ya, babe.” Michael complained about lunch, but only until Nora, Steve’s eldest and seventeen, said “Oh, I love chicken salad” with a wink in your direction. You’d never seen Michael eat so quickly before and he was a garbage disposal on a good day.

And now, your heels were “up” leaning against the deck’s railing from your spot on the floor, a wine glass was in your hand. Katie was telling you all about Nora’s new boyfriend, Charlie, who Steve positively hated, as Eddie and him stood nearby, with beers and watching meat on the grill or whatever men do.

“Charlie is the least of our worries though,” she waved her hand with an eye roll, sipping the pink wine with a grimace, “I mean, you know. They’re monsters. Why’d we have them again?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “If you think yours are monsters, mine might literally be the devil incarnate.”

She snorted into her glass and you laughed, swiping at your lips with a shrug, “Okay, too far. But god, they’re…I don’t know. But, seriously, you and Steve…”

Your voice fell as the boys yelled over the grill at two of the girls doing cartwheels dangerously close to the fire pit.

“You guys, you really know what you’re doing. You’re a good team.” You smiled sadly, looking at the back of Eddie’s head and then at her.

She was watching you closely, a tilt of her head like she was trying to figure you out, before she grabbed your hand and squeezed it and admitted, “I yelled at him about loading the dishwasher wrong last week. We didn’t talk for three days.” She frowned and shook her head and looked over at him and he flipped his spatula and winked at her and she smiled and turned back to you. “Things aren’t ever what they seem on the outside. We all have shit. It just matters if your shit is something you can trudge through together. If you can help clean it off each other.”

She frowned at the wine she started pouring. “I don’t think this wine is helping with my metaphors, but you get what I mean?”

You nodded, taking in Eddie’s profile as he talked with his hands and got louder as he told a story to Steve.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

It was silent as you both stared at the guys, sipping your wine, until you whispered, “So he loaded it wrong, huh?”

“So wrong!” She exclaimed, grumbling, “Who puts plates all willy-nilly? They go in a straight, neat-”

“I said I was sorry!” Steve shouted from the grill, his hands on his hips as he glared at the two of you.

Katie stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head with narrowed eyes and she grinned, a quiet and not as silent as they thought conversation about her paying for that later.

You looked away, smiling into your wine glass when you caught Eddie’s gaze. He looked a little shocked when you made eye-contact, his cheeks flushed pink and you cocked your head with bunched eyebrows at him.

An unanswered silent question though, because the kids all shouted as a black SUV pulled up the long, gravel driveway.

A tall, lanky body jumped out of the backseat of the car before it was even in park, a head full of bouncing red waves shooting across the grass towards the literal swarm of children screaming, “Aunt Robin!”

She was down, on the ground, in literal seconds, the children forming a nice heap on top of her that the four of you all yelled about getting off at the same time, sharing grins that only parents who grew up doing the same thing and feel wrong for telling them not to could.

Your eldest, was bounding over to the car, along with Olivia, ready for the third to round out the little trio of three musketeers - Zoey Wheeler.

As they hugged and squealed about being back together, you all started down the steps to greet the late arrivals.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline standing a touch away from Olivia as the two other girls gossiped about something from school.

But then Nancy was enveloping her in a tight hug, “Hey kiddo, hear you’re gonna be in the windy city pretty soon.”

Too preoccupied with your own waving of arms to tell her to stop talking, you didn’t notice Eddie whip his head over at Steve, who blinked with his hands raised.

Your head fell as Caroline turned to you with curious eyes and a quiet, “What?”

Eddie opened his mouth to explain, but you were already talking, him blinking behind you.

“I…I haven’t even told your dad. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You and me, driving to Chicago to go to this dance store that Zoey and Olivia go to. It’s not new stuff, but their dance troop shops there and it’s all really nice stuff and - oof!”

Caroline’s arms were squeezing you harder than they ever had, face pressed against you as her words got lost and muffled, but didn’t lose their meaning when she said, “Thank you so much mom.”

Your fingers ran over her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head as you enjoyed the hug for as long as she’d let you. “Of course, honey. Happy early Birthday.”

The girls quickly started discussing what they’d do on the trip, and Nancy winced out an apology you told her was unnecessary as you hugged, all while Eddie gulped down his beer and Steve narrowed his eyes at him which made Eddie wave him off, grabbing another beer out of the cooler.

“I am in need of assistance,” Robin called weakly, from her spot on the ground, now abandoned by all the children who were quick to return to their activities.

Nancy sighed and drawled dramatically, “Coming, dear.”

Robin groaned from the ground, but giggled. “Thank you, sugar-pie.”

“Robs, I’ll leave you down there…” she warned.

“Fine,” Robin shrugged, blue eyes staring up at the matching sky, “Dingus will-”

He was already hoisting her up, and grabbing her in a big hug only the two of them could find comfortable from the amount of squeezing suffocation.

Nancy looked at you and Katie and sighed.

“Wine.”

You were both already handing your glasses over with smiles before she could finish the word.

She was thoroughly tipsy by her third glass, and the stress you could sense when she arrived - maybe it was a thing all you mom’s could sense, or maybe it was because of being old friends - was melted from her face as she called out, loudly, excitedly, “Robin!”

“Yes, my love?”

Robin’s legs swung as they dangled from her hoisted up spot on the railing by the men. A baseball hat turned backwards over waves tinted red and silver and a sly smirk resting on her lips as she looked at her wife with more love than should be possible in a human.

Nancy’s cheeks flushed and you all snickered into your glasses, because you all knew what was coming next.

“I, uh,” Nancy cleared her throat, as big, blue eyes tried to blink innocently, “I need to talk to you. Inside.”

Robin grinned and nodded, “Lead the way, Wheeler.”

Nancy frowned, but clumsily made her way inside with a giggle.

With a hop down, a salute, and a quiet, “Duty calls, boys,” Robin followed, all of your “boos” and “ow-ow-ow’s” slammed on by the door.

Katie pulled out a stack of cards, the boys finally came over and joined you, and your legs crossed over Eddie’s lap as you hid your deck from him with a terrible poker face.

He soothed his thumb over your ankle bone, wet his bottom lip before he grinned at you. “Baby, remind me to never take you to Vegas.”

“You have taken me to Vegas.” You touched your cards to your nose, hiding your grin.

Eddie sucked his teeth as he nodded, “Right, right, how could I forget.”

“Seriously dude,” Steve moaned at his cards, frowning, “Vegas was a mistake.”

Katie smacked the back of his head and he flinched, but with a glint in his gaze at her, “What the hell was that for.”

“They got Lacey because of Vegas,” she scolded, “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Believe me, I remember. I don’t remember much, but that I do. It’s sort of hard to forget the results of that trip. What with the children who came out of it. Lacey, Annie and-”

“Luke is stupid!”

Steve sighed at the now sherbert colored sky. He groaned, “I knew it was too good to last.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped your legs from Eddie’s lap as Lacey stomped up the stairs, huffing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie sit up, but you were already grabbing at your daughter’s crossed arms and pulling her towards you.

“Woah, super mean word, let’s think of a better one.”

“A buttface!” She frowned, but didn’t resist your embrace as she climbed onto your lap, a privilege that was fleeting.

“Nope, try again.” You shook your head, letting your chin rest on the top of her head as a hand soothed up her spine, while hers gestured wildly in search of the right word.

“He’s…he’s…impossible!”

You hummed, great word - especially for a seven year old.

“Why is he impossible?” You asked quietly, Katie taking the hint and getting Steve and Eddie to go back to a semi-normal conversation and their cards.

Lacey fiddled with your shirt collar, grumpy and big lips pouting just like her dad. “We were playing Dragons, and he said that I had to be the princess and stay in the tree house while he fought the dragon and saved me! I don’t want to just sit there!”

Steve smiled around the lip of his beer and Katie rolled her eyes, looking at you with a mouthed, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ah,” you adjusted in your seat, hugging her closer as her fingers roamed to the necklace around your throat. “I would be frustrated by that too. I like helping. I don’t want someone to come rescue me, either.”

You glanced up at Eddie who smiled softly at you, watching intently.

“Right. So I’m not playing. I don’t like him anymore,” she huffed, breath warm on your already sweaty skin and fingers leaving something sticky and smelling like pine trees all over you.

“You don’t, huh?”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘P’, but her gaze wandered over to the yard where the boy in question fought his sisters with sticks.

It took you a bit, and maybe you were just soaking up the smell of her strawberry shampoo, or the way she fit perfectly in your arms, but you finally asked softly, “Hey, you remember Dimitri and Anya?”

Lacey shifted with a dramatic sigh, but she nodded.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t like each other either. But, then Anya showed him she could do anything he learned to do, right? And he listened to her? She helped save him in the end, remember?”

“Spoilers!” Steve grimaced and Lacey giggled which he smiled and booped her nose at.

“So,” you lifted your daughters chin, big eyes that reminded you of someone else peering at you unwaveringly as you continued, “You go tell that Harrington boy that Princesses can slay dragons too.”

“They can?” Lacey asked, unsure, unconfident, in a way that melted your heart, put it back together and melted it again.

You nodded and cleared your throat, trying not to cry. “Absolutely.”

She started to climb off of you, but you tugged at her waist, brushing a curl behind her ear as you smiled, “And baby?”

“Yeah?”

You kissed her forehead and whispered, “It’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help, kay?”

She nodded, kissed your cheek, and hopped off, bounding down the stairs with a sing-song call to her tone, “Ohhhh, Luuukkkee!”

Lifting the cards from the table, you smiled at the sound of your daughter antagonizing a Harrington and before you could make a jab at Steve, fingers were under your chin, and Eddie was tilting your head, lips on yours and stealing all of the air from your lungs.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and his hand cradled your jaw as you opened for him without thought, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt until loud clearing of throats came from your right.

You broke away with a gasp, but Eddie pulled you back in for one more press of his lips and a whispered, “Sorry,” as he sat back down looking not sorry at all.

Steve tried to hide his grin as he threw a chip into the pile and Katie grinned at you as she quipped, “Wow, guys, you’re worse than the lovebirds inside.”

Eddie didn’t look up from his cards, but he raised his eyebrows. “I seem to recall an incident in my home on my kitchen counter on my daughter’s first birthday, Katherine.”

“Touche, Edward, touche,” she beamed as Steve choked on his beer.

He quickly changed the subject, swiping beer from his lips as he looked at you. “You’re gonna have to show me how you did that.”

Your wine glass froze halfway to your mouth and he laughed, coughed, covered his mouth with his fist. “I meant the talk with Lace. Not the kissing. Now that you guys’ll be closer we can…”

Eddie hung his head as Steve trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow. “Closer?”

Katie took a large gulp of her wine and Steve gestured to the grill with a hook of his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna…”

“I’ll help!” Katie jumped up and followed.

“Eddie, what’s going on?”

He sighed, set his cards down, scooted his chair closer to you before his hands grabbed yours.

“I got a promotion, sort of.”

“Wh-what? Eddie, that's great!” You squeezed his hands, your heart hammering in your chest because he wasn’t looking at you still. The knowledge that there wasn’t really room for a teacher to get promoted stirring in your brain. “Wait, how…”

He grimaced, thumbs swiping over your knuckles as he nodded. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not so much a promotion, as it is a completely different job, at a completely different school. Or um, University.”

“In…in Chicago?” You were starting to piece it all together.

“Mhm,” he hummed, biting at his bottom lip that you instinctively reached up and pulled away from his teeth gently. He finally looked up at you, worried, and apologetic, but hopeful. “It’s, it’s a really great job. Tons of benefits. At the university. Way more pay. Flexible hours. I’d-I’d be home so much more. And I know, I know that moving is insane. But I just…”

He rambled, and you got lost, because you were thinking about telling the kids, about uprooting your entire life, about never seeing the patch of wall that the kids heights were on again. Your routine, your system, your grocery store, all pulled out from under you.

But then you then thought about how you’d only been on this vacation for a day and how much less stressed you were. How Steve and Katie and Robin and Nancy would be in the same city as you again. About how happy your kids were with all of them, how happy you were with them. The support you’d have. The promise of more time with Eddie. The adventure.

“Okay,” you said softly, interrupting whatever he was saying.

Eddie blinked at you, mouth parted in surprise.

“Okay? Okay what?”

You shrugged.

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s move. Take the job.”

Eddie swallowed, he scooted closer and he cupped your jaw, thumbs grazing over your cheekbones as he murmured. “Okay, let’s do it, like you’re excited and want to, or okay let’s do it, like you don’t think you have a choice and you’re stressed and sad and I’m gonna have to unlock the door with the screwdriver again?”

“I mean,” you laughed, brushing over the worried lines of his forehead as you did, “Okay let’s do it. It’s gonna suck to move and tell the kids, but I think…”

They always tell you, you see stuff in slow motion in moments of panic, fear, but you never really believe it until it happens to you - seeing it all happen before it did.

“Oh my god!”

You were pushing back from Eddie, yelling your daughter’s name as she climbed up a tree, her foot about to step on a branch that looked dead and rotting even from this distance, and then she was falling.

There was a boy shouting beneath her, and his older sister’s shouting at him, screams of mom and dad that all four of you raced towards.

Everyone’s footsteps except Eddie’s slowed when you saw the eyelids fluttering over brown eyes pooling with big, crocodile tears and the leg already swelling with bright red trickling down from it.

Katie was shouting about grabbing the girl’s from inside, about ambulances and driving. Steve was pulling at all the other kids, reassuring them it was fine, and Eddie was focused on Lacey and Luke.

You don’t really remember what you did. You had arms around you and you spoke, but you don’t know what you said. Ushered into a car by big hands and a little one grasping yours tightly.

In the end, all it was, was a deep gash in her leg, nothing broken. Luke a little worse for wear with a fractured wrist, but he beamed when Lacey signed her name on the cast and asked you how to spell Princess before it, then kissed his cheek and told him thank you for saving her.

The rest of the week was the same as the first day after that, save for the two kids who huddled next to each other on the couch on the deck, their temples pressed together as they shouted at the screen of the Nintendo Eddie gave back almost immediately. Day three of watching his kid that close to a Harrington boy made him rethink the whole move and said it wasn’t happening anymore, which Steve promptly replied with, “Dude, they’re seven. Wait till she’s seventeen and dating a guy named Charlie.”

Nora’s head had perked up from coloring with the younger kids, an expression almost identical to her father’s as she scowled. “I thought you liked Charlie!”

“I do, I do sweetie.” Steve rubbed at his temple and gave Eddie and you a look that said he really did not like Charlie.

Time moved too quickly, and the light-hearted moments turned to memories, and soon bags were packed by the front door, and everyone was restlessly sleeping, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Which is how you found yourself quietly making your way down the stairs to the kitchen, when you woke up to the empty bed and cold sheets.

You found him in the living room, eyes glued to the hand held device, his thumbs jabbing at it while he frowned.

“She wasn’t kidding,” he whispered, the girl in question tucked into his lap, her leg propped up on a pillow and drool spilling down his white shirt.

His arms flexed with each press, tattoos that were rarely on display anymore dancing under each movement. Short curls that the flecks of gray in stood out in the moonlight. Lines of worry and laughter all over his face, brown eyes gifted to all of your children because of the same ones maintaining their gaze on the console.

You slid onto the couch next to him, curling into his side with a yawn and a gentle rearrange of Lacey’s legs onto your lap. Fingers gesturing for him to give it to you.

Eddie handed it over, his arm scooping Lacey closer to his chest while his other wrapped around your shoulders.

You kept your eyes on the game as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The breath huffed out of his nose hit your jaw as he quietly laughed, “Babe, what?”

Mario leaped over blocks as you told him again, “I’m sorry. I froze, I don’t know what happened. Thank you for taking care of her, of all of them, I don’t-”

“We’re a team,” he kissed your cheek, his smile stayed pressed to your skin, “You know, a wise woman once said, ‘it’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help.’”.

A hum from your lips that fought a smile as his fingers squeezed your shoulder. You couldn’t help but grin at the screen though, when you pressed A for the final time.

“I think I know her. Same lady who said Princesses can slay dragons, too, right?”

The screen lit up with little fireballs, trills and chimes coming from the console signifying you beat Bowser - this time, all of which you quickly tried to cover up as Eddie shushed.

“Mommy,” her sleepy voice muffled in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetie?” You whispered, console silenced.

“Volume,” word almost lost to the yawn she gave before she was snuggling back into the crook of Eddie’s elbow and was out again.

Eddie tried not to snort or let his laughter shake her as your mouth fell open in shock and he took the Nintendo back, moving on to the next level.

You shook your head at your daughter, and glanced down at her wrapped and injured leg, at the peaceful features of her sleeping face.

“Man, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” you sighed.

It was silent for a while, and your eyelids started to flutter closed too, when Eddie spoke again.

“I totally thought Bowser was a turtle.”

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #superbly subpars writing #cw alcohol #cw injury #cw blood #easy like sunday morning universe #easy like sunday morning AU

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your-unfriendlyghost · 4 months ago

Note

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

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8myass · 11 months ago

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OH MY GOD HIIII ur blog looks supa cool it’s so nice to meet u lele 😁😁

can i be 🧺 anon and request haechan hate sex 🥴🥴🥴 god i’m obsessed w that man

hi hi! thank you so much! of course, you can be 🧺 anon! thank you for making the first-ever request on my page. it was super fun to write this! i, too, am very obsessed with this man, he's genuinely too fine. i hope you enjoy it!! pairing. lee donghyuck/haechan x female reader genre. angst, smut (w plot) pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) wc. 1.6k cw. enemy!haechan, slight bimbo!reader, mean dom!hae, bratty sub!reader tw. alcohol consumption, mentions infidelity and breakup, slight dubcon aspects (bc of the wording, it seems very noncon at first), cursing, mentions blood, name calling (‘bitch’, ‘whore’, ‘toy’), face-fucking, deepthroating, degradation, slight praise (typically only ever mixed with degradation), hate sex (obvi), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), ass slapping, pet names (‘babe’, ‘baby’), hair pulling, breeding, haechan’s just mean idk??

“Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?” Haechan frowned, his vision blurred from an extensive amount of alcohol, hung over your shoulder as you dragged him to your car, somehow being left with the responsibility of taking him home after he was found passed out on your friend’s couch. Your friend claimed she had to clean the party that wiped through her house like a hurricane but fell asleep in the bathroom by the toilet, droplets of vomit littering the toilet seat, and more chunks in the bowl.

You rolled your eyes, popping open the door of the passenger’s side to your vehicle, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Throwing him in the car, you shut the door and dragged your feet to the driver’s side door, sitting down to instantly start the engine up. He didn’t buckle up, slouching down in the seat, eyes dazed. You looked over at him and sighed, shaking your head, “What happened to you, man? Why’d you drink so much?”

“My girl cheated on me,” he laughed, the amusement in his tone holding the deepest pain you remember hearing your entire life. “We’re not together anymore.”

You didn’t know how to reply, never feeling so much sympathy for someone who you despised so incredibly. “Do you miss her?”

“How could I not? She was my world all through high school, no one else meant as much to me as she did,” he exhaled deeply, his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

You sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the drive becoming awkward in the quietness. You still didn’t know what to say, unable to comprehend whether he wanted to find comfort in you at such an awful time.

“It’s right here,” he pointed out the window as you pulled up his street, stepping on the brakes as soon as you heard his words.

“This place?” you scoffed, looking at him with your typical disgusted expression, accidentally forgetting the deep emotional conversation you two just had. The place was old, moss growing up the sides of the former white-painted house that had now turned brown due to being behind on cleaning. The windows were clouded, blinds pale and stained, the wood of the door cracked. “It’s a dump.”

He sighed lowly, getting out of the car with a quick shove, turning on his heels to look at you, “Can you come in?”

“You want me to come into your house?” you raised an eyebrow, but something told you to accept his offer, “Fine, just until you sober up.”

You unbuckled and followed him into his garbage site that he claimed was his house, watching him chug water bottle after water bottle sitting at the small, two-person table across from him.

“Don’t choke, I might laugh,” you chuckled as he continued to gulp down the remaining water in the bottle, eyes narrowing while looking at you.

“You’re annoying,” he huffed, slamming the bottle down on the table.

“Yeah, not the first time you’ve told me that,” you snorted, “Are you sobered up yet? Can I go now, Mr. I-need-you-to-come-help-make-sure-I-don’t-choke-on-my-own-vomit?”

“Screw you,” he groaned, standing up and throwing away the plastic bottle into the green recycling bin next to his dirtied fridge. You stood up as well, hurrying toward the door, taking that as a ‘get the hell out, bitch’. Typically, that’d be what that meant, you weren’t wrong for thinking that.

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice right next to your ear as your body was pressed against the door before your hand could reach the doorknob.

“I’m leaving, you’re sober now,” you squirmed in his grip, his thumbs pressed to the back of your hips to hold your body against the chilled wood. “Don’t touch me, let go of me.”

“Why would I do that? I’m finally available, I can finally touch you how I please,” he hummed, one finger tracing down your spine, his opposing hand slipping up your skin-tight dress, pressing his palm against the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

“Don’t touch me,” you growled, squirming more aggressively in his grasp. “You’re disgusting, I hate you. Let me go before I kick your dick in.”

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he managed to flip your fussy form around so he could look into your pleading eyes. In an instant, you were on your knees, cock down your throat, gagging you to the point of tears pouring down your cheeks, slobber coating your chin as his balls smacked the remnants of your filth off your face and down onto your thighs.

“Fuck, bitch, that’s so good,” he moaned, smirk popping onto his face as his head fell back. Your tongue looped around his cock as he repeatedly fucked your face, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs so tightly that it nearly drew blood. His fingers were laced through your hair, keeping your head in place as he thrusts himself into your mouth. He scrunched his nose up a few times as he felt your teeth brush against his dick, “A little less teeth, okay?”

“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, I’m sure you’ve had a cock down your throat every night since we last saw each other,” he scoffed, looking down at the way your eyes gazed at him with a gentle glint in them. You had only just seen him a few days ago, but you have been with a man every night since then. It was a good time killer, how could you not let some random guy fuck the daylights outta you just for funsies? “You never had something so big down your throat, is that the problem?”

You gagged in response to his question, drool pooling out around the seams of your mouth. His cock was coated in your sticky saliva by now, his tip reaching down your throat, precum leaking out around it.

“You sound so much better gagging on my dick,” he chuckled, forcing himself entirely into your mouth until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, choking on the cum pouring out of his tip as trails of moans came out of his hung open mouth. “Yeah, that’s so fucking good, babe.”

After pulling out of your weak mouth, you didn’t have much time to bitch at him before you were bent over the table, dress forced up and panties ripped off, already rehardened cock slipped inside your dripping cunt.

“So wet? Is this for me?” he muttered against the skin of your neck, moans spilling from your parted lips, throat way too sore to reach the volumes you currently were. “Did you like sucking my cock? How about this? Do you like this, hm?”

You frantically nodded as you felt his hands slide up your dress to roughly play with your boobs, thumbs circling over your sensitive nipples, “Ye-yeah, feels good.”

“Fuck, you’re such a whore, you know that?” he growled, smacking your ass after pulling his hand from your boob, the other one still lingering. “Gonna let me fuck you like this after just claiming you hate me?”

“I do hate you,” you scoffed, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out more unstable than you had originally planned. You did hate him, you just might not have hated this moment. The sex was good, I mean, how could you say no?

“I hate you too, don’t worry,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head toward him, your back pressed against his chest. “I’m using you, baby. Only to pass the time, only to get her off my mind. You are simply a toy, that’s all.”

“You think she’s ever gonna come back?” you mocked, head slightly turning so your eyes could meet his, which had soon turned into a glare directed at you, “I can’t be a placeholder for someone who’s not coming back.”

“Shut the fuck up, toy,” he growled, upper lip twitching as he pushed you back down onto the table, pressing his palm to the center of your back to hold you there as the other gripped your hip tightly, his thrusts becoming harder yet sloppier.

He was beyond enraged by your comments, and the movements of his own hips against your poor body really showed that. You were a whimpering and crying mess as soon as he became angry with you, almost making you want to sob out an apology, but you wouldn’t degrade yourself so much as to actually apologize to him, it’s bad enough you were letting him fuck you.

“I think you’re gonna make a good cumdump from now on,” he moaned loudly, his moans echoing throughout the rest of the kitchen. “I’ll use you however I please.”

“Scr-screw y-you,” you whined, continuing to be a little bitch to him, not realizing where it gets you.

He groaned as he continued thrusting himself into you, head falling back as he smacked your ass again at your words. You squealed and dipped your head down against the table, burying your forehead into your arms. Your bodies colliding rocked the entire table, the sound of its creaking spread through the room.

Soon enough, he had let loose strands of cum inside you, feeling his hot liquid fill your insides as loud moans flew out of his mouth, desperate and frantic cries falling out of you, your release also shaking your body, cum seeping out around his cock.

“Shit, maybe we should do this more often,” he’d say only as he’s rebuttoning his pants and you’re fixing your dress, wiping your mouth of the drool that poured out of the corners of your lips, patting away the dried tears coating your flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes and stormed out of his house, ‘hoping’ you’d never see him again, but knowing damn well you’d cave and show up to his place the following night, all for a round two…

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alittlebitofloveliness · 6 months ago

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hiii idk if ur still taking requests or not but if u are literally any kind of darry angst would be amazing 🤗🤗

Hi anon! This is a bit more Curtis brothers angst but Darry centric exploring what might have happened if the Curtis parents died two years earlier. Please lmk what you think!

***********

“Please” Darry begs, “I’ll be eighteen in a month. A month! I swear I can take care of them. Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” the social worker says, and to her credit she does sound like she means it, “Since you're almost eighteen and because you’ve provided me with adequate proof you can support yourself I’m going to allow you to remain here at this time, but Sodapop is only fourteen and Ponyboy just turned twelve. They need a real guardian.”

“I can be their guardian,” Darry vows. It’s wrong they’re even having this conversation. His college acceptance letter sits on his desk, his football trophies on the shelf and yet he’d give all of it away in a heartbeat for this crackpot old woman to see sense, to understand that he’s just lost both of his parents and he cannot lose his brothers too. Why doesn’t she understand that? “You said it yourself, I can support myself. I can support them too. The lawyer said Mom and dad left me the house. I can officially claim it in a month, and I can cover bills until then. I already got three offers for another job, and I know how to cook and clean and drive-”

“Darrel,” the social worker cuts him off firmly but kindly, “this has nothing to do with whether or not you are capable. In fact, from what I’ve seen, and the frankly remarkable job you’ve done holding your family together I’d be more than happy to help you petition for guardianship of your brothers at a later time, if it’s still something you feel strongly about doing, but the fact of the matter is that almost eighteen is not the same as eighteen. You are not a legal adult, and you cannot be your brothers’ legal guardian until you are. It doesn’t matter how responsible or adult you are right now. It can’t happen.”

“Please,” Darry implores, “you can’t take them. We just lost mom and dad, I can’t lose them too.”

“I really am sorry,” she says, “and I mean it when I say I will help you try and get guardianship in a month. But I can’t let them stay with you right now, and honestly? Maybe it’s a good thing. I know you love your brothers but guardianship would mean putting your life on hold until Ponyboy turns eighteen- eight years from now. You couldn’t go to college, travel, do much of anything really. This month will give you time to think that over, decide if it’s something you’re truly prepared to do.”

Anger, bright and hot as a supernova bursts in his chest.

“I would do anything to keep them. Anything. I don’t want college or sports or nothing if it means they’d be stuck in some foster home with people who don’t care anything about them.”

“We make sure all our foster parents are vetted very carefully-”

“Yeah, sure,” Darry scoffs, “I know a dozen kids who grew up in the foster system. I’m sure all those bruises were just from kids being kids, especially the handprints. With all due respect, I think you’ve forgotten what part of town you're in. East side kids never end up in the good homes.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Save your apologies,” Darry chokes, ashamed to feel hot tears start to prick his eyes, “it’s clear your mind is made up and ain’t nothing I can do to change it.”

“I promise you, I will help you try and get them back. As soon as you're eighteen.”

“I’ll call you the minute the clock hits midnight on my birthday,” Darry threatens, “see if I won’t.”

“That’s fair,” the social worker smiles but Darry refuses to smile back. He hates her, for all she is trying to be as kind and helpful as she can. She’s going to take his brothers away. To him, she can only ever be a villain, “you guys can stay together here one more night while I sort out placements for Ponyboy and Sodapop. I’ll be back at ten tomorrow morning. Do you want to tell your brothers or should I?”

Well Darry sure as hell isn’t going to break their hearts, and Ms. Summers has done a good enough job already of shattering what remained of his own.

“You do it,” he spits, “I ain’t gonna ruin their lives.”

Her sympathy has run deep enough that pity now reigns on her face and she ignores his attitude, the way she has ignored all his attitude so far. It’s more than he probably deserves. He still hates her for it.

“No,” Soda says before Ms. Summers has even finished explaining, his brown eyes shining with a primal sort of fear that puts another crack in Darry’s already broken heart. Soda was made to be grinning, not meant to ever look so terrified, “no you ain’t puttin’ me in no foster house. Me’n my brothers are stayin’ right here, together, thank you very much.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t asking,” Ms. Summers says, still talking in that infuriatingly gentle tone.

Soda- easygoing, sweet Sodapop, who called ladies ma’am without fail, who everyone adored- glares at her, backing away the way a cornered animal might.

“I ain’t going! I ain’t! And you ain't taking Pony neither! Darry ain’t gonna let you take us, right Dar?”

He looks at him, brown eyes wide and desperate in his face, and Darry knows things will never be the same after this because it’s his job to protect Soda and Pony, always has been and always will be, and yet right now he is failing to do just that and Soda may never forgive him for it.

“Soda…”

“No!” He’s crying now, tears running freely down his face as he clutches Ponyboy close to his side, arm falling protectively around their baby brother’s tiny shoulders because Pony- whose eyes are the same sort of haunted they’ve been since mom and dad died, and whose face shows nothing but terrified resignation- hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Because he’s twelve. Only twelve.

“I know this is hard for you” Ms Summers continues, “and I’m going to do my best to make sure you and Ponyboy get placed together, but you can’t stay with Darry right now.”

“Why not? He’s good at bein’ a guardian. Shit, I’ve eaten more vegetables in the last week than I ever did when mom and Dad were alive-

“Because Darry isn’t eighteen.” Ms. Summers cuts him off, “and you need to be at least eighteen for the government to consider granting guardianship.”

“I’m gonna get you back,” Darry promises, ignoring the social worker and instead locking eyes with his brothers, first Soda, then Pony, “I swear it, as soon as I turn eighteen I’m gonna get you back and you can come home and we’ll all be together again. But we gotta behave if I’m gonna have any chance at all, so please stop arguin’. I don’t like this any more than you do but we gotta-” he clears his throat, “we gotta play ball, ok kiddo? We gotta do what we’re told.”

Soda gives the social worker one more murderous glance, but pulls himself together, a mask of eerie calm overtaking his features. “Fine.”

“Ill see you all tomorrow then. I can show myself out.” Ms Summers offers them one last pitying smile as she shuts the door behind her.

As soon as she’s gone Soda is on top of him, crying so hard he can hardly breathe,. Pony is clutching his other side so hard he might have bruises, and Darry wraps them both in his arms, wishing he could keep them here forever where they would be safe and he could help them relearn how to be happy. It’s somehow the worst and best moment of his life. On the one hand they’re still blissfully here with him. On the other hand, they won’t be for long.

“I’m sorry,” belatedly Darry realizes he’s crying too, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried everything, she wouldn't let me keep you, I tried, I tried.”

Pony just hugs him harder, burying his face in his chest and Soda wails.

Eventually they all stop crying, but the mood in the house is somber. The gang comes around, moods dampening one by one as they hear the news, and Darry makes chocolate cake for dinner since there’s no point in making healthy food if the social workers are taking the boys anyway. In the end it doesn’t matter- none of them have much of an appetite, even for cake.

He walks in on Steve and Soda plotting to run away together before the social worker comes. Talks them out of it by reminding them that he’ll never get guardianship if Soda goes truant while still technically in his care. Eventually, the gang leaves and the it’s the three of them once more, crowded together on the living room couch in an unspoken agreement. None of them want to sleep, unwilling to miss even a second that they have left together.

“Darry?” Pony whispers, his head resting on Darry’s shoulder.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” Darry says, heat clenching, “I’m scared too.”

A few minutes later Pony’s weight drops a little more against him and he starts to snore, out cold. Darry pulls him a little closer, plants a kiss on the top of his wild hair.

“Soda?” Darry says softly a few minutes later, careful not to wake Pony.

“Hmm,” Soda blinks at him sleepily, “yeah Dar?’

“Promise me you’ll take care of him,” he glances down at Ponyboy’s peaceful face. Asleep like this he looks downright childlike, “and yourself too, savvy? I’m sorry- I’m sorry I can’t do it myself, but you gotta be strong for me, alright? Just for a month or two until I get you back.”

“I promise,” Soda vows, “he’ll be safe with me, I’ll make sure of it. No matter where they put us.”

“I know you will, little buddy.” Darry sighs.

Soda sniffs. “I’m really gonna miss you, Dar. it ain’t right, takin’ me from my big brother when we just lost our folks. It ain’t right.”

“I’ll get you back,” Darry promises again, because what else is there to say, really? “I’ll talk to the president himself if I have to but I swear I’ll get you back.”

“I know you will,” Soda tells him, eyes shining.

They don’t talk for the rest of the night.

The morning dawns with a sunrise that mocks them with it’s beauty and a buttery sunshine that illuminates the sorrow on all their faces when Mrs. Summers shows up and they all have to say goodbye. The gangs around, everyone but Dallas who got jailed two days ago, and Pony and Soda take their time with their goodbyes. When Soda reaches Darry, he hugs him tight for a second, and gets chocked up trying to say something three times before he gives up. Pony hugs Darry with a strength he rarely sees from the kid, and Darry tells him over and over that he loves him because when things get tough that’s the sort of thing Ponyboy forgets.

Then they leave, Mrs. Summers' blue Toyota rounding the corner, and a big part of Darry’s heart goes with them.

He goes back inside. Steve and Two-bit both follow him, casting him concerned looks, but he can’t deal with their worry right now. He has twenty eight days before his birthday to compile an airtight case as to why he’s the perfect guardian for a teenager and a preteen boy, and three job offers on his desk that can make that case a lot more airtight than it currently is.

It’s time to get to work.

#the outsiders #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews

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