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myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago

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THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

“We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

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upsidedowngrass · 1 year ago

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sorry the requests r suddenly going so slow 😭

#technically i have no obligation to do art requests fast but like STILL #this one is taking a bit but its worth it i think #RLY gotta tone down the art after this one tho #edit bc its later: little bummed out -_- may take a bit longer #keep gettin a LITTLE self conscious abt my art (it was partially why i decided to do so many reqs #cus i wanted to motivate myselsf to draw and like convince my brain that Its Ok)#but rn just gonna go draw Whatever .ok . waves hand at anyone reading this #sorry for the sudden slowness of art reqs though :( really SHOULDNT try to hold myself to reqs cus they ultimately SHOULD be for fun #but like still !#anyway hiiiiiiiiiiii hi #accidentally put this on the Wrong Post. whatever

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 11 months ago

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Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

no y/n and i try to avoid descriptors but do use she/her. you star in house of the dragon and your character is aemond targaryen’s girlfriend (let me live ok i know we could change him! he told me!!) aaaand also tbosas as sejanus girlfriend (get it bc rachel and josh and now you and tom). your character in tbosas is nova may winter.

your social media ~

just a fun little social media series, will do this in between editing my coriolanus snow x reader series. first part below the cut, sometime early 2023.

liked by enews and others…

tmz_tv trouble in paradise? rachelzegler and tomblyth spotted looking a little cozy last night! wonder how yourname and joshandresrivera feel!!!

yourname heartbroken!

↳ joshandresrivera shocked!

↳ yourname betrayed!

↳ joshandresrivera bamboozled!

↳ yourname flabbergasted!

↳ joshandresrivera devastated!

↳ yourname yeah that we weren’t invited hadbdjsndj

↳ tomblyth i hate you both 😭

↳ rachelzegler you guys literally had reshoots for tbosas though????

↳ tomblyth and we offered to reschedule for when all 4 of us could go?

↳ yourname fuck we’ve been exposed

↳ joshandresrivera gotta blast!!!

username wait are they really dating?!

↳ username no. rachelzegler is dating joshandresrivera and tomblyth is dating yourname.

↳ username waaaait i just read tbosas. obviously coryo and lucy gray, but also yourname character is dating joshandresrivera character 😂 so everyone had to kiss each others significant other 😂😂😭

↳ username oh to be yourname and rachelzegler

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍 30 minutes later 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️

⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️

liked by taylorswift and others…

yourname here to serve your #snowbaird needs! first 3 📸 are the love of my life and tomblyth is in the shots too.

rachelzegler hahaha i love you

↳ yourname marry me when???

tchalamet where was the post for paul and luna when dune came out? #fakefriend #betrayed

↳ yourname timothée??? i literally made a whole youtube video talking about my experience with dune? and i sung your praises for like 10 minutes???

↳ tchalamet not the full first name 😳

joshandresrivera and what about the ship for our characters 🤬

↳ yourname istg you’ll get an entire post dedicated to u once the film is actually out.

↳ joshandresrivera carry on 🤭

ewanmitchell aemond and juliette didn’t get a post either 🤨

↳ yourname aemond killed my baby lucerys, he doesn’t get shit 😞

↳ ewanmitchell you did a whole post when osferth died????

↳ yourname my sweet baby osferth did not deserve to die either 😔

username damn yourname your onscreen boyfriends are low key needy af 🫣

↳ yourname i know right 😩

tmz_tv 👀

↳ yourname this was a joke. i’m laughing at you, not with you.

yourname has blocked tmz_tv

tomblyth caption got me like 😧… and what’s the last photo my love?

↳ yourname my lockscreen is what it is.

↳ username “my love”

↳ username she said my lockscreen hahdudsbdifesz one of us one of us

hunterschafer you’re my spirit animal

↳ yourname hunter is the ACTUAL loml you guys

↳ tomblyth “heart been broke so many times” - rod wave 😧

username i read the book. coriolanus has to choke nova may. tomblyth did u develop a choking kink 🤭😏😏😏

↳ yourname hahahaha username i love you so much for this

↳ username someone spoil it for me why does he choke her

↳ username nova may figures out that coriolanus is the one who betrayed sejanus right when he’s executed and she goes to confront him later. this is when he and lucy gray first get to the cabin. she has a gun but he manages to throw it to the other side of the room. and at least in the book he slams her against a wall and tries to kill her by choking her.

↳ username istg they better put this scene in the movie.

↳ username but does he kill her?

↳ yourname watch and seeeee!

↳ rachelzegler so proud of my girl yourname! we can’t talk about it too much because #spoilers but you guys she’s incredible and it was so cool to watch her and tomblyth film that scene

username i bet tomblyth felt so bad having to be mean to yourname

↳ yourname all jokes aside, tomblyth aka the actual number 1 love of my life, he did feel so bad 😭 i love seeing him turn into coriolanus because it’s obviously so different from who he actually is as a person. but after each take he’d immediately ask if i was okay 🥺🥹

↳ username god i’m so single

if you’d like to be tagged in future tom blyth x actress!reader let me know!

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luludeluluramblings · 4 months ago

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Yandere! Batfamily x Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily

A/N: taking a moment to jot this down while in my head, because we gotta know what the Sups think of Reader. (Also because I watched the 1978 Superman movie like crazy as a kid and this whole series is spiraling into the longing for departed childhoods)

A/N: will probably edit this later; I’m still fleshing out some things

A/N: Also, we get a romantic yandere here!

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

To start with, Reader actually adores the Super family.

Jon is Reader’s third favorite person in Reader’s life. (Damian is livid about this fact.)

Reader will beg Bruce to go visit the Kent farm.

It’s as close to their hometown as Reader will ever get to see again. (Reader will willing give affection and call Bruce ‘dad’ just to go.)

And, Bruce can’t say it’s not safe,

Especially, since Clark met Reader and was utterly charmed.

(There is no way Reader can be Bruce’s kid, Reader is way too perfect and sweet.)

(Bruce literally carries the DNA test around to shove in Clark’s face when he start that conversation up again.)

Reader likes Clark, but he’s still Bruce’s friend first. (Which makes things awkward after Reader gets locked down by the Batfamily.)

Reader likes Lois too. (Until after lockdown, then things feel weird. But, Reader is capable of ignoring the weird feeling.)

Lois is extremely friendly with reader, just knows how to coax Reader into talking without it sounding like an interrogation. (Years of journalism and interviews.)

Jon, as stated, is Reader’s favorite.

Reader hugs him, calls him terms of endearment, ruffles his hair. Thinks he is precious and sweet. (Reader is not as affectionate at the manor, mostly because they don’t think the Batfamily cares.) (Wrong, they want that shit so bad. Please, hug them and love them. Even the less extreme yanderes crave it.)

And, Jon is here for it.

Reader gives older sibling vibes and Jon eats it up. (Damian may try stabbing him with kryptonite, but it’s worth it.)

Reader’s not as fond of Conner though.

He’s just another big city rich boy to Reader. (Reader does not care he’s a clone. Doesn’t bother them. Reader’s a meta that makes it rain and snow. So what if he has two dads?)

Conner, on the other hand, straight up Romantic Yandere for reader.

Sees himself as the black sheep in the Super family, where Reader is the lone white sheep in the Bat family.

Reader understands, he knows they do. (And, yes, it’s true reader does actually understand. Which makes the infatuation sooooo much worse.)

(Tim gets pissed about Conner liking reader. Thinking Reader is stealing his best friend away. But, then gets pissed when Conner tries to steal reader away from him after Tim goes full yandere.)

Kara is already in the future at this time. But, if she did meet Reader, they would be platonic soulmates. (Until Kara tries to take Reader to the future with her.)

#yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere tim drake #yandere batfam #yandere superman #yandere superfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere clark kent #yandere lois lane #yandere jon kent #yandere conner kent #platonic batfam #platonic superfam #Yandere Superboy #smalltown!reader

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thefourthwifeoftengenuzui · 7 months ago

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some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2

Summary: You're determined to figure out why Eddie hates you, and he's more determined to avoid you at any cost. But confrontations with Jeff and Wayne may have him reconsidering all of his choices--including the one to become a father. How long can he run from his demons before they catch up to him?

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of drug dealing, mentions of Eddie's dad, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 5.9k

Chapter 2/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

“He called you what?” Jess screeches, and you have to pull the receiver from your ear to avoid losing your hearing. “Oh, he’s a dead man.”

You place the phone back between your shoulder and cheek so you can stir the pot of marinara sauce while talking to your friend. She’d called to ask about your first day of work, and of course you’d mentioned Eddie’s frigid bitch comment. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a grown man who promises to call and then basically drops off the face of the Earth,” you say, trying to keep your anger at bay. There’s murmuring in the background coming from a voice deeper than Jess’s. “Do you have company? Because we can talk later–”

“Nah, I’m just at Viv and Jeff’s place.” Before you can tell her not to say anything, you hear her spreading the news to her sister and future brother-in-law. The girl’s a sweetheart, but she spreads news faster than the New York Times.

There’s the sound of shuffling and the phone being exchanged between parties, followed by Jeff saying, “Please tell me that you’re joking.”

“About being called a frigid bitch? I’m afraid not,” you confirm with a terse chuckle, draining a pot of spaghetti into the colander. “But, honestly, it’s really not a big deal. I’ve been called worse.”

Jeff’s quiet for a moment before he replies. “He’s such an asshole. Christ.” You detect a note of sadness in his tone, almost grief, like he’s mourning someone he thought he knew.

“Look, I shouldn’t have called him out on that stupid Cat and Mouse thing,” you say. “I should’ve just let it go, put a smile on my face, and acted civilly. I only said it to piss him off, and it worked.”

“No, this is more than you,” Jeff protests, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He never used to be like this. He used to actually be a great guy.” It sounds like he has more to say, but he just blurts out, “I gotta go,” and quickly hands the phone back to Jess.

The two of you talk for a few more minutes until the sauce on the stove starts to bubble, indicating that dinner’s ready.

“Grandma,” you call out, “it’s dinnertime!”

Your grandma pads out of her bedroom, hair disheveled even though you’d just combed through it this morning, and wrinkles her nose. “Not hungry,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you gotta eat so you can take your medicine,” you tell her, keeping your tone even and patient, “otherwise, you’ll feel sick. C’mon, you love pasta.”

“I don’t have to take any goddamn medicine,” she snaps, scowling at the three pills at her table setting. “These aren’t even mine.”

Well, then, whose are they? Do you think I robbed a Rite Aid? You want to snap, but you bite back the retort. “Yes, Grandma, they are. This one,” you point to a small, white pill, “is for your blood pressure. And this one,” you point to a larger yellow one, “is your multivitamin, and this little yellow one is for, um…” you hesitate, “for Alzheimer's.”

“I don’t have Alzheimer’s!” Grandma shouts, swiping the pills to the ground. They fall with a clatter, bouncing underneath the table. “And I’m not eating shit.” She storms off to her room, muttering a slew of swear words under her breath.

You take a deep breath, feeling the oxygen fill your lungs. This isn’t the first time she’s had an outburst like this, and you know to just leave dinner on the stove, and she’ll come and eat in a few minutes when she forgets that she’s “not hungry.” In the meantime, you pick up the fallen medication and place them back on her napkin before digging into your own bowl of spaghetti.

Sure enough, she joins you about fifteen minutes later, exclaiming that “something smells good,” and eating her dinner happily. She only asks you twice where you’re from and when you’re leaving, but your heart still sinks with each question. The grandma who never missed a birthday and brought your favorite candy when she visited had all but been erased by a vicious disease. All you can do now is keep her safe and enjoy the brief moments when she’s smiling.

There’s only silence when Eddie shows up at Gareth’s house after dropping Harris at Wayne’s trailer. He’s usually greeted by the sound of everyone warming up and tuning their instruments. For a second, he thinks that he has the wrong night, or he forgot that they canceled practice, but he finds the guys sitting in Gareth’s garage. They all look up guiltily when they hear him walk in.

“Who died?” Eddie asks with a nervous laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Seriously, guys, what’s going on?”

Gareth bites his lip, wordlessly turning to Jeff. Eddie stiffens a bit at the silent shift to Jeff’s newfound leadership. Since when does Gareth look to Jeff to speak up?

“Ed, we need to talk with you,” Jeff says, sitting up a bit taller. “We, uh, we think Corroded Coffin needs a bit of hiatus.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and gives a disbelieving snort. “Oookay,” he says sardonically. “And why are you telling me that we should break up the band I founded?” He walks closer to his bandmates, challenging them with the fury behind his eyes.

“It’s not fun for us anymore, man,” Danny admits. “This is supposed to be something we do to relax, blow off some steam and get a break from the real world. But lately, it’s been more of a chore.”

“A chore?” Eddie echoes, scoffing loudly. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Jeff stands up, ready to bulldoze through whatever counterattack Eddie concocts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re a miserable person to be around. When you first moved back, when Harris was a newborn, we figured it was just a lack of sleep. But your kid’s four now, Munson,” Jeff says pointedly, “and you’re still a dick.”

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Eddie mutters with an incredulous laugh. “Let me get this straight: I have a couple of bad days, and you shut shit down? Without even talking to me about it first?”

This ignites a spark in Jeff, and he puffs out his chest and takes another step towards Eddie. “You wanna talk about it? Fine; we’ll talk. What should we start with, hm? The way you can never be happy for any of us unless it benefits you? The way you act like an immature teenager, selling drugs instead of getting a real job? The way you treat women like they’re disposable?” He looks Eddie dead in the eyes and says curtly, “I heard about your little ‘frigid bitch’ comment. And at her job, too. Real nice.”

“Why do you care whether or not I still sell? Or how I treat women?” Eddie shoots back. “Did I get you in trouble with your old lady or something?”

“That’s the other thing,” There’s no mistaking the bitterness seeping from Jeff’s pores. “I tell you–one of my oldest, closest friends–that I’m getting married and having a baby with the love of my life, and you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.”

Eddie feels his mouth dry up, knowing that everything Jeff’s said is true; he clears his throat and tries to play it off. “You cool with this, Gareth?” he asks the drummer, hoping no one caught the waver in his voice.

Gareth can’t even let his gaze meet Eddie’s as he mumbles, “I used to look up to you, man. You were my honest-to-God hero. But now, I…I don’t want to be like you anymore.”

The confession is a total knockout; Eddie stumbles back as though he’s actually been punched in the gut. “Whatever. You can all choke for all I care.” He slings his guitar case back over his shoulder and starts towards his car.

“Let us know when you decide to grow up,” Jeff calls out. Eddie just flips him off, slamming the car door and speeding down the road.

Fuck them, he thinks, barreling through a stop sign without even noticing. Who the fuck do they think they are; breaking up the band because they don’t like my attitude? They didn’t mind my attitude when it protected them from all the assholes at school, or when it got them into clubs when they were underage. But now they’re complaining about it? Fucking pricks.

As he turns into the trailer park entrance, a thought occurs to him: how the hell did Jeff know that I called her a “frigid bitch” at work? What did she do, call him up and snitch on me? Trying to ruin my life all because I didn’t call her? He grips the steering wheel even tighter, throwing the car in park and stomping out to Wayne’s trailer. He knocks impatiently, as though he’s been kept waiting.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Wayne asks, concern written all over his face. “And why do you look like you’re about to punch a wall–Jesus, Ed, take a breather.”

“They kicked me out of the band,” he mutters through gritted teeth, walking over to where Harris is eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of the TV and sitting down next to him, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “Gave me some BS about taking a break, how I make all of them miserable, blah blah blah.”

“What’s ‘BS’?” Harris pipes up with a mouthful of cheesy pasta, but Eddie just mumbles, “don’t worry about it,” under his breath, and the boy goes back to watching a rerun of The Flintstones.

Wayne sighs, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “They said that you make them miserable?” he asks, wincing slightly. He knew that his nephew’s demeanor had changed considerably over the years; what was once teenage cynicism had slowly morphed into a constant state of anger and unhappiness. Wayne thought maybe it was just in his head, or just around him, but if Eddie’s best friends noticed it, too, it was more serious than he’d initially thought.

“More or less,” Eddie chuckles tersely. “And then they threw something in there about my–my job, about how I, um, pursue lots of different women, how I don’t support their choices when we all know it’ll take away from the band.”

“Support their choices?” Wayne echoes.

“Jeff’s girl is having a baby, and he wants to marry her,” Eddie explains, biting his thumbnail as he shakes his head incredulously. “So he’s gonna have less time for Corroded Coffin. How are we supposed to make something of ourselves if he’s gonna flake?”

“I don’t know if that’s flaking–”

“I mean, let me get this straight,” Eddie interrupts, standing up to pace. “Jeff’s a goddamn superhero for knocking someone up and taking time away from the band, but I’m the one who’s ruining it for everyone? Because I actually act like a rockstar?”

“Well, Rockstar,” Wayne crosses his arms over his chest angrily, “have you ever stopped to consider that maybe they’re right? Stopped to think about how your actions impact them? How would you feel if Jeff berated you for wanting to start a life with someone you care about?” He pauses for a moment, glancing at his grandson. “I’m not saying you have to get married or settle down, but if you aren’t gonna have a maternal figure in your boy’s life, you should at least show him how to respect women.”

Eddie snorts, grabbing his keys from his pocket and walking towards the door. “Like how women respected me? How all the girls at school called me a ‘freak’ or a ‘loser’?”

“You’re not in high school anymore!” Wayne shouts, snapping Harris from his Fred Flintstone-induced daze. “You’re a grown-ass man! With a kid! And if you spend the rest of your life jumping from girl to girl because of how you were treated fifteen years ago, you’re gonna continue to be one miserable son-of-a-b–gun.”

Ignoring his uncle’s rebuttal, Eddie waves Harris over. “C’mon, Har-Bear. We gotta get home. Say good-bye to Grampa Wayne”

“Ed, you don’t have to–”,

“I’m really not interested in what you, or anyone else, has to say about my life,” he snaps, taking Harris’s empty bowl and tossing it in the sink with a clatter. “I’m doing the best I can; my kid is fed and clothed, and the lights and water are on in my place. Harris, I said, let’s go.” He takes his son’s hand and walks him to the car.

“Daddy!” Harris whines as Eddie buckles him into his carseat. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to Grampa Wayne!”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s okay, bud. We just gotta get home. Grampa understands.”

Harris bursts into tears, screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs. “I! WANT! GRAMPA!” he shrieks, kicking the back of Eddie’s seat over and over. “I don’t like you anymore, Daddy! You’re mean!”

Eddie tries to ignore the sting of Harris’s insult, reminding himself that he’s just a kid, but the words are like a thorn in his side. “I’m mean?”

“Mhm,” Harris says with another heaving sob. He tries to catch his breath between his words. “You…m-made…Grampa Wayne…yell. A-And th-then you…didn’t let me…say…goodbye!”

A dull ache thumps behind Eddie’s frontal lobe. “I’m sorry, Har. I should’ve let you say goodbye. We can call him when we get home, and you can say goodbye then.”

This seems to quell Harris’s tantrum, and his soft hiccups slowly fade out as he drifts off to sleep. Eddie gingerly unbuckles his seatbelt and lifts him. There will be a day where he won’t be able to lift him anymore, but he can’t bear the idea right now.

He carries his son up the three flights of stairs and places him in his tiny race car bed. Eddie’s frameless mattress is right next to it, and he lays down and watches Harris’s chest expand and contract with each little breath. His bow-shaped lips are slightly pursed, and there’s a smudge of dried mucus under his nose, a remnant from when he was crying earlier. Eddie makes a mental note to wash off his face before he goes to school tomorrow.

School—the thought of seeing you, really—had his stomach twisting in knots. Everything was fine until you waltzed into town, getting so bent out of shape over a one-night stand that you ratted him out to his bandmate. And now he looks like the asshole.

He’ll sort it out tomorrow. He’ll march into the school and ask for—no, demand—that Harris is transferred to another classroom. And then he’ll never have to deal with you again.

“I’m sorry, but all of the classes are full.”

Eddie raps his fingertips on the school secretary’s desk impatiently. “They’re…full?” He sputters, unable to believe his shitty luck. “Nah, there’s gotta be space for him somewhere. Can you check again?”

The secretary peers up at him over her coke-bottle glasses and rolls her eyes. “Mr. Munson, in order to remain in compliance with Indiana state standards, we are allowed a maximum of ten students per class. All of our classes already have ten students.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Can’t we just swap him with a kid from another class? He can have their teacher and they can have his.”

“If a student from a different classroom moves or requests a transfer, we can discuss allowing Harris to switch. For now, we can just make a note of it in his file and let you know if that opportunity arises.”

Harris looks at his dad with a puzzled expression. “But, Daddy, I like my teacher! She’s really nice and she doesn’t get mad at me if I forget the rules.”

Heat creeps into Eddie’s face as he feels the secretary’s glare–a mixture of bewilderment and irritation that he’s wasting her time with his asinine request. He gives a resigned sigh and takes Harris’s hand as he walks him towards the classroom.

“Have a great day, Har-Bear!” he says, feigning enthusiasm as they reach the door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Harris frowns. “You’re not gonna walk me inside like tomorrow?”

Eddie pauses for a second, brows pinching together in confusion before he realizes what Harris means. “You mean yesterday?” Eddie corrects him, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile at his son’s error. “I, uh, I think it’s better if I just stay out here.”

He waits for the impending tantrum, but to his surprise, Harris just shrugs and says, “Okay, bye!” and swings the door open, backpack bouncing as he speedruns into the room excitedly. Eddie can hear your voice, calm and patient, saying, “Harris, we use our walking feet in the classroom,” and his son replying with a chipper, “Oh, yeah! Sorry!”

He’s halfway down the hallway when you call out, “Mr. Munson?”

“Ya?” He stops walking, but doesn’t bother to turn around and face you. He stares at a bulletin board that reads Welcome Back to School in glittery red cut-out letters. Framing the message are little cardboard apples, each with a student’s name written on them in permanent marker. He spots the one that says Harris in the top left corner, and an unfamiliar twinge of pride sets in his chest.

“I need you to sign Harris in,” you say, trying to keep your tone as even as you do with your students. “It’s school policy.”

“Christ on a cracker,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, spinning back on his heels to head back to the room. So much for avoiding you. You’re standing outside the door, and he immediately notices the way your maroon pants hug your curves in all the right places. If only her personality was as pleasant as her ass, he thinks bitterly, dragging his gaze to the clipboard in your hand. “I didn’t have to do this yesterday.”

“It was the first day of school. I forgot,” you admit. You’re not exactly sure why you’re giving him so much ammunition; perhaps it was the way he just conspicuously drank in the sight of you. “Kinda crazy around here.” You will yourself to shut up, practically clamping your lips together so you’ll stop talking.

Eddie scoffs, yanking the clipboard from your grasp. “Well, aren’t you Teacher of the Year,” he sneers, clicking the pen and scribbling his signature next to Harris’s name before jabbing the sheet back at you.

Ignoring his insult, you force yourself to make eye contact as you inform him, “You’ll need to come back in later to sign him out.”

He bites back an irritated laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his torn black jeans. He’s equipped with another comment ready to launch at you, one related to your rendezvous a week earlier, but he stops when he sees Harris tugging on the hem of your shirt with urgency.

“What if I’m with my new teacher?” he asks innocently, eyes wide with concern.

“What new teacher, honey?” you ask, crouching down to his level. “You mean Mr. Will?”

Harris shakes his head fervently. “Daddy asked the lady at the desk if I could have a new teacher instead of you.”

You expect Eddie to be embarrassed by his son’s candidness, but he doesn’t even appear to be fazed. “It was your idea, Sweetheart,” he says with a sly grin. “I’m only making good on my word.”

“Well, look at you, keeping your promises,” you bite back instinctively, silently cursing yourself for snapping at him when you’re on the clock. He might be a total asshole, but he’s Harris’s dad first. At least while you’re at work. You turn your attention back to the little boy. “I’m sorry if we confused you, Harris. I’m your teacher, okay?”

Harris nods slowly, indicating that he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, but he doesn’t press the issue further. His gaze flits between you and his father. “Why’d you call her ‘Sweetheart’?” he questions Eddie. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Absolutely not,” he insists at the same time that you chime in with a firm, “no.”

“Then why–”

“It’s a nickname,” Eddie interrupts before Harris can say anything else. “Like how I call you ‘Har-Bear,’ or how I call Grampa Wayne ‘Old Man.’”

“Oh.” Harris chews on the answer before seemingly accepting it, giggling when he thinks of the way his grandpa grimaces at the name ‘Old Man.’. He smiles up at you. “Can I call you Sweetheart, too?”

You smile back at him, ruffling his curly hair. “That’s Ms. Sweetheart to you,” you tease, but as a four-year-old, he doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm.

“Okay, Ms. Sweetheart!” he laughs, and he mimics your movements and ruffles your hair right back before you stand up. How is this kid so precious when his dad is a complete and utter douchebag?

“Well,” Eddie says finally, crossing his arms over his chest, “I won’t forget about signing him out when I pick him up.”

“Try to get here on time today,” you retort, guiding Harris over to where Will is playing with the other students. “Really makes my job easier when the parents do what they’re supposed to do.”

He walks away with a haughty laugh. “Bold of you to assume I’d want to make anything easier for you.”

The rest of Eddie’s morning proceeds as normal. He picks up the product from Rick’s place and gives him his cut of what he made yesterday. Carefully separating it into small baggies, he delivers to his usuals: the guys who work down on the loading dock, the supergenius stoner who allegedly works as some top government official, the young teacher at Hawkins High who, more than once, has paid for her share with decent head behind the football field. Of course, Eddie keeps a bit hidden away for himself. Whoever coined the phrase don’t get high on your own supply never had a seemingly never-ending stash of weed.

He arrives back at his apartment just before noon, ready to crash on the couch and watch some mind-numbing TV. Opening the door, he kicks off his muddy sneakers to find his uncle sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

“Jesus, Wayne!” Eddie shouts, putting a hand to his chest. Giving him a key to the place suddenly didn’t seem like such a great idea. “Scared the shit outta me. What’re you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

“Took the day off,” Wayne explains, reaching for the manila envelope that he’s placed on the cushion next to him. “Had, uh, an appointment.”

Based on the serious look on his face, Eddie assumes he’s talking about a doctor, and the blood drains from his face at the thought of Wayne battling a terminal illness. “Shit, you okay? Are you sick?”

“Sit down, Eddie.” He hands him the envelope without another word. Eddie does what he says, flipping up the edges of the silver fastener and taking out a small stack of stapled papers. He scans the documents, expecting to see some kind of medical test results. Instead, his eyes widen as he reads the opening lines:

TEMPORARY CUSTODY AGREEMENT:

I, EDWARD JOHN MUNSON, the custodial parent of the following child(ren): HARRIS WAYNE MUNSON, do hereby give custody to WAYNE ALBERT MUNSON.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie snarls, clenching his fists and crumpling the papers. “Are you trying to take my kid away from me? Is this some kind of sick revenge because of our fight yesterday?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Ed, this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. I’ve had this meeting with the lawyer for a while now.” He lets out a long, tired sigh. “When you got arrested a couple months ago, it made me realize how much I was turnin’ a blind eye to your…business.”

“You mean when Hopper let me off with a warning?” Eddie reminds him. He rolls his eyes impatiently, but his bouncing leg gives away how nervous he is to have this conversation. “The Chief isn’t gonna let anyone lock me up just for selling pot. I won’t sell the hard shit anymore, and Rick knows that.”

But the older man presses on, ignoring his nephew’s rebuttal. “When your dad got arrested, I was lucky that the state gave you to me instead of sticking you in foster care. But we were both twenty-odd years younger; I don’t know they’d be so willing to let an old man take care of a four-year-old without it in writing.”

The mention of his father has Eddie seeing red. “I’m not my dad.” he spits. “My dad didn’t fucking take me to school. Couldn’t even be bothered to make sure I had everything I needed. Food, water, shelter? That piece of shit didn’t give a rat’s ass.”

“But he did sell drugs. And that’s how he got busted,” Wayne points out, voice rising a bit. “And Hopper’s nearly as old as I am. He’s gonna be retiring soon; we can’t keep countin’ on him to cover for you.” His eyes are misty with tears as he says, “all I want is for Harris to have the same kind of protection that you had. Just until you get a job that doesn’t put you at odds with the law. It’s all temporary, see?” He motions to the first bolded word at the top of the document.

But Eddie’s too enraged to care, tearing up the papers and letting them fall to the floor like legal confetti. “I’ve gotta go,” he hisses, grabbing his keys so quickly that they clatter among the sea of document scraps. “You should go, too.”

“I could get you some work at the plant,” Wayne offers meekly. It’s not the first time he’s extended the opportunity, but he figures it’s worth a shot. “Just somethin’ while you look for what you really wanna–”

“I said, leave!” Eddie shouts. “I don’t need you poking your nose in my life anymore. My life works for me, and it works for Harris, and there’s no reason to turn everything upside down.”

“You think his dad gettin’ thrown in prison won’t turn his life upside down?!” Wayne snaps, finally unloading everything onto Eddie. “You think being torn away from the people he loves won’t hurt him? I’d do anything to keep that boy safe, just like I did for you, you ungrateful sonofabitch.”

Eddie’s response flies off of his tongue before he can bite it back. “And look how that turned out for me.”

A pained expression crosses Wayne’s face, but he recovers quickly. “I’ll always love you, Ed. No matter what.” He pauses. “But I don’t like who you are anymore. Ever since you moved back here, all you’ve done is push away the people who care about you.” He starts towards the door before briefly turning back. “When you’re ready to let people in, to be happy again, you let me know.”

Eddie scoops up his keys and flings open the door, letting it slam behind him. His fingers tremble as he fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. It takes a few tries before he can steady his hands enough to light one, and he inhales deeply to try and calm his nerves. How could Wayne possibly think that Harris wasn’t safe with him? After everything Eddie had sacrificed for his son; the dreams he gave up, the life he let go of…

Did anyone actually believe that he still wanted to be here, in Hawkins, the town bursting with haunting memories? Every time he drove near the high school, he could practically hear the echoing taunts of freak and loser emanating from its hallowed halls. No; he was only here because he couldn’t raise a kid alone. Apparently, Wayne thought he was incapable altogether.

He goes through another three cigarettes on the ride to the preschool, snuffing out the last one with the toe of his scuffed Vans outside the entrance.

“I need to sign out my son, Harris Munson,” he tells the secretary, who gives him a bemused glare. “Family emergency.”

The secretary nods, picking up the phone without taking her eyes off of Eddie, as though she’s concerned that he’ll bolt if she lets him out of her sight. He hears her relaying the message that Harris’s dad is here to pick him up early, but he’s too busy pacing back and forth to eavesdrop for a response.

All he can think about is how it would feel to sign those papers, basically admitting defeat. Admitting that he couldn’t handle fatherhood. Just because he stepped up when Harris’s mom wasn’t able to be a parent didn’t mean he was a good dad. It just meant he stuck around.

Maybe his presence in Harris’s life was doing more harm than good.

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice draws him out of his rumination. You’re holding a now-empty Tupperware that once contained a salad; dressing smeared on the inside, and your eyes hold nothing but concern. Nothing in your body language demonstrates any sort of contempt, and Eddie has to wonder how bad he looks for you to not hate him, even briefly. “Is everything okay?”

It’s then that he realizes that his lip is bleeding from biting it so hard, and his cheeks are wet with tears.

“Don’t you have a classroom of kids to watch?” he sneers, watching as you wince. “Really vying for that Teacher of the Year spot, aren’t ya?”

“It’s my lunch break…” you start before realizing that you have no need to defend yourself to him. “Why are you so mean to me?” You keep your tone as hushed as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted listeners. “Seriously, what did I do to you?”

“Besides ruin my life?”

You scoff incredulously, annoyance creeping back into your posture. For some reason, this bothers Eddie less than seeing you worried about him. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little gossip session with Jeff?” he spits back. “The one where you told him I called you a frigid bitch? Or maybe the one where you painted me to be some asswipe womanizer all because I didn’t call you?” He rakes his fingers through his long brown curls. “I have no one now; are you happy? Christ, you’ve lived in this goddamn town for two minutes and you’ve managed to turn my best friends against me.”

“I didn’t do shit,” you fume, whispering the last word in case children are passing by. “I told Jess, and I didn’t know she was at her sister’s place. And the only reason Jeff even knew about our night together was because I needed a ride after you basically kicked me out of your apartment.”

“You weren’t supposed to sleep over,” he murmurs so softly, you can barely hear him.

“Why not? What would’ve been so bad about that?”

He doesn’t have the chance to answer–or come up with a half-hearted excuse–before Harris is flinging himself into his legs, wrapping his arms around his waist in a tight hug. “Daddy! Mr. Will said I’m going home, but none of my friends are going home.”

Eddie scoops up his son, resting him on his hip. “That’s because you and I are having a super-special, super-secret Daddy-Son Day at the zoo!” he whispers in his ear, and Harris beams in response. Eddie’s own father never took him out of school and brought him on fun outings. The only time he got out early was when they were on the run from the cops or evading an eviction notice over unpaid rent. Zoo trips? Unheard of. So there, Wayne.

“Have fun!” you chirp, swallowing your anger for Harris’s sake, and for your own. “I can’t wait to hear all about it, Harris.” You rub his back gently and walk back to your classroom. Like most of your encounters with Eddie Munson, you leave with more questions than answers.

“Daddy, look at that!” Harris shouts happily, pointing to a flamingo stretching and flapping its pink wings. “Look how fluffy it is!”

Eddie squints in the sun to get a better view. “Yeah,” he agrees with a laugh, squeezing Harris’s hand. “Fluffy like a teddy bear.”

Harris frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “No, Daddy. That’s a bird, not a bear.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says, trying to hold back his laughter. “You’re really learnin’ a lot in school, huh?”

“Mhm,” Harris says, leading his dad to the next exhibit. A hippo pops its head out of the water and glances around curiously before lowering back down. “Ms. Sweetheart is the bestest teacher ever! She sings songs, an’ reads to us, an’ she’s even helping me write my name!”

At the mention of your inadvertent nickname, Eddie’s jaw clenches. It’s my own stupid fault for bringing up school, he thinks bitterly, but brushes past it. “Are you having fun on our Daddy-Son Day?”

“Most fun ever!” Harris jumps up and down with each syllable. “Did you and Grampa Wayne do Daddy-Son days?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Har, remember? Grampa Wayne is actually my uncle, not my dad.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harris says, slowing his pace slightly. “But he was kinda like your dad, right? He took care of you like he’s your dad?”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, he took care of me like a dad.”

“Where is your dad? Why didn’t he take care of you?”

“He, um, he couldn’t,” Eddie offers lamely. “He didn’t know how to be a dad. So Grampa Wayne decided to raise me.” As he says the words, he feels sick. He’s tried so hard not to be like his old man–his biological one–and yet he’d basically become a carbon copy. Just a guy in way over his head, failing to be the man his son needed him to be. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” Harris chirps happily. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go see the penguins now?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

On the way back from the zoo, with Harris nodding off in the backseat after the self-proclaimed “best day of his life,” Eddie pulls into the record store parking lot. It’s changed quite a bit since his younger years, but the music selection is still the best this town has to offer. He peruses their metal section, a snoozing Harris resting his cheek against his chest. Plucking a few cassettes from the bin, he places them on the counter and digs into his back pocket for his wallet. A handwritten HELP WANTED sign catches his eye.

“You guys hiring?” he asks the bored teenager behind the register.

“Yup,” comes the monotone reply, not making eye contact as he rings up the tapes.

Eddie waits a beat before continuing. “Is there an application or something?” The cashier pulls a sheet of paper from behind the sign and hands it to him. “Cool. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.” Eddie takes the bag of cassettes and shuffles back towards the car.

The application feels like it’s staring at him from where he’s set it on the passenger seat. The idea of being a minimum wage employee makes him cringe; it’ll probably take him weeks to earn what he makes in a day for Rick. He glances in the rearview mirror at his peacefully sleeping son.

“Only for you, Har-Bear.”

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lesservillain · 11 months ago

Text

—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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steddieunderdogfics · 8 days ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief. And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me. And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed. Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.) Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences. Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are. I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington. And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll.

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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alexfromjersey · 1 year ago

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𝓓𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓼 & 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓬 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

jenna x g!poc

summary: jenna and jah going to the obstetrician. jah asking stupid questions.

warnings: jah being a comedian, mature language, partial smut

a/n: tumblr didn’t save the first draft 😭…anyway enjoy the chapter and a Jenna edit 🤭. also I’m not a medical professional. I tried to look up the actual terminology and stuff to be semi-accurate but I started to lose interest 😂 - 4.3k words

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

MAY 2023

“YOU GOT YOUR BACK BLOWN OUT BY KID CUDI?!? WHAT THE FUCK!” You shouted on the phone.

You and Jenna were currently on FaceTime, she was in her last fitting for her Met Gala outfit. She was bored waiting for the designer to come and make potential adjustments. So she called you to entertain her someway. She regrets calling you now.

You were doing your due diligence as a baby mama and friend to watch Jenna’s work. You started with The Babysitter: Killer Queen. It was alright in your opinion, you gave it a 7/10. Next, you watched The Fallout. It made you tear up and you applauded Jenna on her work. You considered it her best character.

Then, you watched both Scream movies and now you’re watching X. She tried to get you to not watch the movie by not even telling you about it. You had to look up her filmography to find out about it.

“You’re so lucky I have my headphones in” Jenna rolled her eyes.

“Nah you ain’t tell me this movie like that. I was jumpscared with so much ass and titties and now I gotta see you have sex with Mr. Day N’ Nite. Insane” You stated.

“I told you not to watch it. Actually I specifically remember withholding the information” Jenna said.

“Hm. They did you dirty by pairing you with that white man though” You shrugged and ate a fistful of popcorn.

“Shut up” Jenna mumbled.

Your eyes slowly drifted away from the movie to the phone screen. Jenna was preoccupied fixing the nail polish on her nails. She was doing something so simple yet captivating. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. The feelings you felt for her was starting to scare you.

“So, Nancy helped me book an appointment with the obstetrician not far from you” Jenna spoke bringing you out your thoughts.

“You did it for here? Why not back in your hometown, you know to be closer with your family” You questioned.

“It was the best one and…I always wanted to live in New York. I also want to be far away as possible from my mother when I tell her that I’m pregnant” Jenna smiled.

You laughed taking in the information, “When’s the appointment?”

“Tomorrow morning, 9am” Jenna replied.

“I’ll be there” You playfully salute to her. You turn your attention back to the movie. It was now on the part where the white man get killed by the old lady brutally.

“Speaking of families, how exactly are you going to tell yours?” Jenna asked.

“I’ll just call my brother and tell him. Now, for my mom, I’m gonna need a police riot shield” You huffed.

"You and I are in the same boat. I'm praying for you more though" Jenna said.

Your head snapped toward her, "Nah, don't say that."

Jenna chuckled at the expression on your face. The door behind her opened and the designer walks in. "I have to go. I'll call you later" Jenna said.

"Okay...wait you don't get your back broken like a glow stick anymore in this movie right?" You jokingly asked.

Instead of a verbal response, you got the sound of the FaceTime call ending. You laughed out loud and placed your phone on the charger and turned back to the movie.

Meanwhile with Jenna, she rolled her eyes secretly amused as she hung up on you. It was starting to get hard for her to ignore the growing feelings she had for you. She stalked your Instagram, staring at each photo for at least 10 minutes. She stayed up late last night and watch all your YouTube videos.

“Okay, since you’re not showing yet. The dress still fits perfectly but we will loosen it up around the waist just touch” Thom complimented.

Jenna looked at herself in the mirror, “I feel good in it. It feels good, I’m really happy with it” Jenna smiled.

Thom and Jenna continued discussing the dress some more before Thom had to leave to another client. He bid Jenna a bye and congratulations and left the building. Now, it was just Enrique, Nancy, Hudson, and Big L in the room.

A phone alert has Jenna snapping her head to her phone but unfortunately it was not her phone that made the sound. Enrique snorts at Jenna’s actions. An embarrassed blushed appears on her face.

“Shut up Enrique” Jenna mumbled.

“I’ve never seen like this before. It’s adorable” Enrique chuckled.

“It’s just hormones” Jenna lied.

“Yeah no it’s not. You know it’s okay to like her right. I mean the both of you kinda skipped a couple of steps but it’s good to backtrack” Enrique joked.

Jenna playfully punched his shoulder which made him laugh. Nancy let out a little giggle at the home. Hudson just grumbled something incoherent to himself.

“What does she look like anyway? I wanna see if your baby is going to be ugly or not” Enrique said.

Jenna rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone. She went to Instagram and went to your profile.

“This is the most recent photo” Jenna said.

liked by jennaortega, davis, and 12,683 people

bronxshiesty no bite marks no scratches and no hickeys

“Oh my….she got a brother?” Enrique asked.

Jenna laughed, “She does actually but he lives in Barbados.”

“I always wanted to go to Barbados. When’s my vacation?” He joked.

Jenna just shook her head while laughing. She carefully took off the dress and Enrique hung it up on the mannequin.

“You know it still hasn’t fully hit me that you’re about to become an actual mother. Shit is wild” Enrique commented.

“You and me both. I downloaded this pregnancy app and currently my baby is the size of a large strawberry” Jenna smiled and placed her hand on her stomach.

“Ain’t all strawberries large though?” Nancy questioned.

“I guess not” Jenna shrugged and sat down in a chair. Her stomach growled loudly.

“Get used to that. You’re gonna wanna eat twice more than usual.” Nancy said.

A text message alert can heard throughout the room. Jenna picked up her phone.

NYC 🩵: yo u got anything else to do today?

Hollywood 🤰🏻: no I’m free for the rest of the day

Hollywood 🤰🏻: why?

NYC 🩵: I want to see you

Jenna’s heart fluttered at the message. She bit her lip and smirked.

Hollywood 🤰🏻: what are we gonna do?

Jenna watched as the text bubbles appear and then disappeared. It happened a few more times before the text bubbles stayed.

NYC 🩵: i mean…whatever you wanna do shawty. I’m down with whatever 😁

“Let me guess, it’s her” Enrique smirked and tried to peek at Jenna’s phone she turned away. “Ohh not y’all sending spicy messages”.

“We’re not sending spicy messages. She just said she wants to see me” Jenna smiled.

“See you as in watching movies or see you as in Neighbors know my name?” Enrique joked.

Suddenly, a loud slam can be heard throughout the room. Everyone looked confused at the sudden sound and disappearance of Hudson. But shrugged it off.

Hollywood 🤰🏻: I’m hungry

NYC 🩵: what u want

Hollywood 🤰🏻: seafood

NYC 🩵: u like seafood boils? I know a banging spot that I can get

Hollywood 🤰🏻: absolutely

NYC 🩵: bet 🫡

“You’re all finished for the day Jenna. Go spend it with your baby momma” Nancy said.

“Thanks guys” Jenna said and grabbed her things. She hugged Enrique and Nancy before walking to the door.

“Don’t get pregnant…oh wait” Enrique joked.

Jenna stuck up her middle finger and Enrique and Nancy’s laugh can be heard as she left the room.

🤰🏻🩵

45 minutes later, Jenna finally arrived at your apartment. She texted you that you were here. A couple of minutes later, you came down in a gray tank top, gray shorts, and your slides.

“Yo Hollywood” You greeted and helped her out of the SUV. Jenna smiled and wrapped her arms around your waist. It was unexpected but you wrapped your free arm around her back and hugged her tight.

Jenna looked up you with a certain spark in her eyes. You noticed but decided to look away from her.

“Big L, I got you a boil too. You ain’t allergic to seafood right?” You asked.

“Nah I’m not. Appreciate it though” Big L said appreciative and took the bag of food. You nodded in response.

The two of you then head into the apartment complex. You lived on the 6th floor of the building, the nicest floor out the entire building. When you applied for the place, the landlord tried to stick you in a moldy and roaches infested apartment but one of the neighbors put you on game and helped you get this one.

“Welcome to mi casa” You said as you walked into your apartment. It was two bedroom and one bathroom. Their was music softly playing throughout the apartment from your speaker on the counter.

Jenna looked around the thankfully, clean apartment.

“Not bad” Jenna playfully shrugged.

“Yeah it’s not the high rise, plants in the windows, Hollywood type of apartment but it’s something” You chuckled.

Jenna giggled and sat down at the dining table with the food.

“I didn’t get yours with sauce on it. I got it on the side, it’s a Cajun style sauce and it’s a little spicy. I looked up if pregnant woman can eat spicy stuff, they said it was safe but might cause heartburn or indigestion so I also got a lemon garlic sauce too just in case.” You ranted.

Jenna looked at you with admiration in her eyes, “Thank you. I like spicy stuff so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

You smiled and the two of you engaged in a light conversation as you ate. You took the sausages from her bag and you gave her your corn. You also helped her with cracking the crab legs open and showing her how to get the meat in one piece.

You and Jenna finish your food and clean up before sitting on the couch. You sat in the middle while she sat at the end with her back against the armrest and her feet in your lap.

“Are you wishing for a boy or girl?” Jenna asked.

“I’m wishing for a healthy baby. I genuinely don’t care if it’s a boy or girl” You shrugged.

“Good answer. I want a girl though” Jenna said.

“That’s surprising. Most mothers want boys” You said.

“Girls are more fun in my opinion. But either way I’m going to love our child regardless of gender” Jenna stated.

She then sat up, scooted closer, and looked at the number tattoo on your wrist. “What’s this mean?”

“It’s my angel number. 555. It’s means change. Changes are coming and that I shouldn’t be worry or scared just have trust in the process” You explained.

“What about this one?” Jenna said as she pointed to another tattoo. This one was a small writing.

“Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. It was my second ever tattoo. Believe it or not I was a shy kid before my junior year. I used to let people walk over me and bully me and take me for advantage. That was until the last day of sophomore year, I was on the yearbook committee and I had a really good idea but I was too scared and one of the other students stole it and took credit for it. My yearbook teacher pulled me aside one day and told me she knew I was the one that came with the idea. She told me, “you’re never going to get what you want if you never speak up. Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes because you never know who could be listening”. It’s a quote that stuck with me ever since” You explained.

“You had a great teacher” Jenna commented.

“Yeah, she reached out to me a couple of months ago and told me she loved my videos. It was wholesome” You smiled. Your hand start to rub her thigh unconsciously. “What about you? You got any ink?” You asked.

“Nope. I want one though. Maybe for my first one I’ll get our baby’s name behind my ear” Jenna answered. You nodded in response and continued rubbing her thigh. Your eyes kept looking down to her soft lips.

You wanted to feel them on yours, it’s been a minute since you felt any intimacy. You were longing for her soft touch.

Jenna’s eyes traveled down to your hand. She was starting to grow hot. Her hormones making it very difficult to keep in check.

“Jah?” Jenna called out.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response.

“Kiss me” Jenna demanded softly.

You leaned in and connected your lips to hers. Jenna immediately deepened the kiss as soon as she could. She climbed into your lap and her hands were placed on your cheeks. You placed your hands on hips. The kiss was starting to get sloppy and eager.

Jenna pulled away and took off her top leaving her in her navy blue bra. Her lips then latched onto your neck.

“You know…we should…talk about our relationship” You struggled to get out due to the pleasure.

Jenna placed butterfly kisses on your neck until her lips found your pulse. She then began to suck on the area. Your hands gripped her waist tighter and a small hiss escaped your lips. She smirked against you, happy that she found your sweet spot. She continued sucking until she felt satisfied with the hickey she left on your skin.

Your lips connect once more, your tongues clash and you slide your right hand up her back. Your fingers find her bra strap and with one hand you undo it. You help her pull it off your body. This time your lips leaves hers and attach them to her sweet spot. A sigh of pleasure leaves her lips and her hand gets tangled in your hair.

Your left hand grabs onto her slightly larger breast and begins to massage them.

Thank god for this pregnancy.

Your fingers rolling and pleasurably tugging at her hardened nub. The hand in your hair start to scratch at your scalp which felt really good. You take your attention away from her hickey littered neck.

Yikes, her make up person is going to have a field day with that.

Your lips clamp around her nub. Your tongue swipe over it a few times before sucking on it.

“Oh my god” Jenna moaned softly.

You let your teeth graze over it just a tad bit before switching your attention to the other breast. While you were giving her breasts attention, Jenna slipped down a little to sit on your knees before her hand found it’s way into your sweatpants. Her warm hand quickly found their prize. The long and girthy beast that was growing in your pants.

You pull away from her breasts and look into her lust filled eyes. You lifted your hips and pushed your sweatpants along with your underwear off your hips. Jenna got up from your legs and pushed the rest of it off your legs. She got on her knees in front of you.

Her small hand wrapped around your third leg. It jerked in her hand at her touch which she smirked at. She placed small kisses up and down your shaft until she got to the tip. Her tongue circled around it, her eyes never leaving yours. You lick your lips as she takes you into her mouth.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your head fell back against the cushions and your right hand tangle themselves in her hair.

One hand at the base of your shaft and the other rested on your thigh. Jenna started to bob her head up and down. Her muffled moans sending vibrations against your member which made you hiss.

“Damn girl” You hissed and licked your lips. You pushed her head down farther. You were deep in her throat, tears were pooling in her eyes. Jenna then took you fully in her mouth, her nose was touching your pelvic area. Your eyes slightly widened, you can feel her uvula grazing across you. She stayed there for a second, flexing her throat until it got hard to breathe and she pulled you out of her mouth. Her hand continuing to pump your length.

Once she got her breath back, she swallowed you while again. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and helped her bob her head up and down at a fast pace.

You were close, the knot in your stomach started to tighten.

“Fuck Jenna” You moaned.

Her nails dug into your thigh, enjoying the way your tip abused the back of her throat. You start to pant as you got closer and closer. Before you knew it, you halted her head before you felt your length twitch as it emptied into her mouth.

You relaxed into the couch, sweat glistening on your face. Jenna milked you for every last drop before she pulled you out of her mouth. She showed you the thick substance in her mouth before closing it and swallowing.

“Me gusta esa mierda extraña (I like that freaky shit)” You spoke.

“You know even though it’s sexy. It’s not fair when you speak Spanish knowing I have no clue what you’re saying” Jenna pouted.

“Chupa para chuparte fraude (Sucks to suck you fraud)” You shrugged with a chuckle.

Jenna sucks her teeth before standing up. She goes to walk away but you grab her hand.

“I’m joking. I’ll teach you Spanish if you want me too” You said. She stood in front of you. You pulled her down and interlocked your lips again. This kiss you guys took it slow, building the mood again, even though it technically never left. You pulled her pants down her legs until she kicked them off somewhere.

You stood up and hoisted Jenna up. She wrapped her legs around your waist. You walked until her back made contact with the wall in your bedroom. Your fingers pulled her underwear to the side and you ran your middle finger through her folds.

Damn, she was mad wet. She got that WAP.

Your middle finger massaged her clit. A whine left her lips as you flicked her clit and her hand gripped the back of your neck.

“Jah…” She moaned.

Unbeknownst to you, she was close to the edge. Usually, she lasts a lot longer than this. You barely touched her and she was already close to the edge. This pregnancy was making everything heightened.

You pull her from the wall and lay her on the bed. You were on your knees to the side of you, you took her underwear off before you slipped your middle and ring finger inside her.

“Fuck!” Jenna gasped.

Your long fingers worked their magic, quickly finding the rough spongy spot inside her. A loud moan ripped through her as she arched her back. Her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I’m…about to cu-” Jenna choked on her words as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She stilled with her back arched to sky and eyes squeezed shut. There was a pool under her and your hand was soaked to the max.

You were slightly surprised at how fast she came. You didn’t complain though.

“Holy shit, that was intense” Jenna swallowed harshly. She relaxed her body on your bed, her chest was still rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m good at what I do” You smirked.

Exhaustion creeped in and Jenna struggled to keep her eyes open.

“No way I just fingered you to sleep” You laughed.

“Shut up” Jenna mumbled sleepily.

You chuckled as you grabbed some boxers from your drawer and pulled them on. You grab an old T-shirt from your drawer.

“Here put this on” You said and handed her the T-shirt. Jenna lazily put it on while you changed the blanket on your bed. Jenna crawled into your soft queen sized bed and curled up in your blanket.

You locked up your place and put the blanket and her clothes in the wash. Before going back to your room to see Jenna fast asleep. You climbed in the bed and stared up at the ceiling. As soon as you closed your eyes, you felt Jenna scoot closer to you. You turned your head towards her to see her grabbing your hand. You placed your hand in hers and she placed it on her stomach. You turned your body to her, spooning her. She relaxed into your hold and fell back asleep. You soon followed with a big smile on your face.

🤰🏻🩵

It was the next morning, you and Jenna were currently at the obstetrician's office waiting for the doctor to return to do the physical exam. The two of you got to know Dr. Nightngale better and vice versa. Her daughter was a fan of Jenna's which didn't bother or surprise the girl.

When it came down to asking questions about the other parent, Dr. Nightingale was stunned to learn that you were. Questions were thrown at you, which didn't bother you. You were used to people asking questions about being intersex. You were asked questions about it from the minute you could speak full sentences.

When you were younger, you used to go into full details but they got boring real quick. So you opted to tell people a quick summary. Which was 'I was an experiment from Area 51. My father was a spy that fell in love with an alien'. Most people didn't find it funny.

“What to expect when expecting?” You read aloud. It was a pamphlet that you picked up from the front desk. All morning you were reading up on anything related to pregnancy. You wanted to at least have a little bit of knowledge of what’s happening. Plus, it was kinda interesting learning about everything.

“Holy shit” You gasped as you were instantly hit with the sight of a stretched-out vagina…not the kind of stretched you want.

You look at the pamphlet with a disgusted look and then over to Jenna. The girl looking at you with an amused expression.

“I’m so sorry” You apologize to the girl.

A knock on the door was heard and Dr. Nightingale came in.

“Alright, Ms. Ortega and Ms. Jimenez are you guys ready to see your little bundle of joy," Dr. Nightingale asked.

Jenna was laid back in the exam chair with a sheet covering her breasts. Her slightly protruding belly was out in the open. You got up to stand next Jenna and also see the screen. You felt a shaking hand grab yours.

"You okay?" You asked the shaking girl.

"I'm nervous. I'm finally realizing how real this is" Jenna gulped.

"It's normal to be nervous. But I'm right here." You reassured the girl. She gave you a smile and a quick squeeze of your hand. Dr. Nightingale smiled at the interaction between the two of you. She put the gel on the medical instrument.

"Okay, this is going to be cold." Dr. Nightingale warned. She put the instrument on Jenna's belly, who flinched slightly at the sudden coldness of the gel. She moved the instrument around a little before a little body appears on the screen. The room was then filled with a rhythmic thumping.

"Oh my god" Jenna gasped at the screen. Her eyes started to fill up with tears at the sight. You, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking at the screen. You had a huge smile on your face.

"Your baby has a strong heartbeat. You are about 11 weeks pregnant. 2 months almost 3 if you like to go by months. Judging by the date of conception, you are due to give birth on November 28. But there's also a possibility that you could give birth in December" Dr. Nightingale said. She starts to take pictures of the baby.

“A Sagittarius baby…oh lord” Jenna joked.

“Better than a Scorpio” You shrugged.

Dr. Nightingale continued the exam. Everything coming up clear for both the baby and Jenna which you were happy about.

“When are we able to know the gender?” Jenna asked.

“By 14 weeks but I like to do it around 19-20 week mark so it can be accurate” Dr. Nightingale asked.

“What about sex?” You impulsively asked.

“Jah” Jenna sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s a smart question to ask” You defended.

Dr. Nightingale laughed, “One of the most common questions we get. Sex is completely fine to continue doing. It’s actually beneficial, it can ease discomfort or pain, great for physical health, and a good partner bonding experience. But I would highly recommend still using condoms because STI/STDs are still a thing.”

You smirked and nodded at the response. Jenna just smack your arm as she rolled her eyes.

“Any more questions?” Dr. Nightingale asked.

The both of you shook your heads no.

“Okay, well that is it for today. I’ll see you guys next month. Congratulations to you both” The older woman smiled and left the room. You helped Jenna wipe the gel off her stomach and she puts her shirt back on.

“You know…last night I said something to you. We were kind of busy so I don’t know if you heard me” You said.

“What did you say?” Jenna asked.

“I said we should talk about this. You know…us” You gestured to the two of you.

“What’s there to talk about? We’re just two people who had sex and are now having a baby together.” Jenna shrugged.

You furrowed your face, “Is that how you see us? Just two people having a baby?”

“Not just two complete strangers. Like friends” Jenna said. She watched you as you stared at her with no emotion on your face.

“Friends” You muttered and nodded.

Not gonna lie, the statement hurt you. You didn’t want to be just friends with her. You wanted to be more. You liked her and you thought she liked you too but you guess wrong. You respected her decision though despite the mental pain it brought you.

Just friends…

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu

#Spotify #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #g!p reader #jenna ortega x oc #nycxhollywood

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moons-of-dewclan · 10 months ago

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HOW TO RESET YOUR CLAN TO EARLIER MOON

(another case of 'one person asked, i deliver) ok first, you sort of can't. YOU GOTTA RESTART with a 'new' clan and transfer! SECONDLY, this may be more complicated than it needs to be bc i don't know how to do things simply. i'm trying my best tho. THIS IS HOW I'VE DONE IT. i recommend watching videos or reading up on how to 'edit files' bc this isn't exhaustive. IT REALLY HELPS IF YOU KNOW HOW TO MESS WITH THE FILES. this is SUPPLEMENTAL KNOWLEDGE FIRST!! save a backup of your clan files (The JSON FILE, AND CLAN FOLDER) in case you make a whoopsie and destroy your code. READ THIS ALL BEFORE TRYING. i'll be noting some things that are MAKE OR BREAK. literally. make ur code or break your code IN THIS EXAMPLE, i'm going back to moon 15 for Dewclan from moon 50, and I'm going to pretend there are only 4 cats- Lyre, Vanilla, Nettle and Spark. I'll refer the clan you want to set back as the 'Canon' clan, and the one you're going to be rewinding to as the 'Rewound' clan! THEN HERE WE GOOOOO FIRST, NEW CLAN. pick the same mode as the clan you're trying to 'Rewind'.

NAME IT WHATEVER. you'll change it later..

Pick those cats. i like to pick the minimum necessary. but it doesn't really matter, as you're going to more or less be copypasting your old cats into this 'Rewound' clan.

START IN THE SAME PLACE. and in the same SEASON that your Canon clan started in. I started Dewclan in Leafbare. do not choose the season that's taking place on the moon you want to rewind to. the one you STaRted on. (you're going to choose what moon you're on later in settings. this keeps the progression consistent. if you started in leafbare, but choose greenleaf for the Rewound clan, 15 moons in, you'll be on a different season than your Canon clan would be bc your starting point was different. even if i'm not explaining that well just do it i promise LAKSNNDKS)

WOW THESE AREN'T MY BABIES. ok time to kill or delete three of these suckers bc i only need four cats. BYE GUYS

also go into your settings. MAKE EVERYTHING HOW YOU WANT IT. general, role, etc. AND THEN CLICK THAT 'OPEN DATA DIRECTORY'. this is where stuff gets GOING

click here.. saves

NOW, BELOW!! the folders, it'll have a JSON file with your Rewound clan name. THIS IS IMPORTANT. there are things in here that you need to change. some require you to peek at your cats, and some don't. We'll get to it later! FOR NOW, click the folder above this that says your Rewound clan name! mine is 'DewAGAIN'

THEN YOU GOT ALL THE JUICY STUFF

CLICK CLAN CATS. AND LOOK BELLLOOOW. we're gonna transfer our beloved babies over. i recommend you copy from "name_prefix" to "favourite": false in the Canon clan (keep their ID number from this Rewound clan the same. don't replace it with their ID number from the Canon clan), then select all that info in the Rewound clan and paste it to overwrite. and then adjust what you need to. AND YOU WILL NEED TO ADJUST I HIIIGHLY recommend leaving the ID numbers and pasting Canon leader info into Rewound leader info. med cat into med cat. deputy into deputy. Rewound clan leader is ID 20? paste your Canon clan leader info info 20. keep Canon clan's number as 20.

SOME OF THESE ARE VERY IMPORTANT. 1. ID NUMBER. if your cat has any relationships, like parents or mates, you need these numbers to match those cats. ALSO if your cat has a specific role, like medicine cat, leader, mediator or deputy, their number needs to match the number designated in the CLAN JSON info shown in the next image. FOR NOW I CONTINUE. 2. IMPORTANT NUMBERS. Sparkplug (her name isn't rly sparkplug btw)'s parent is Lyrestar. Lyre's ID number is 1. if that ID number doesn't match or doesn't exist in this game, you'll get an error! Same goes for mentors and mates. at moon 15, Spark wouldn't have these. But if i transferred her from moon 50 where she did, I'll have to replace the mate/mentor/whatever will 'null', etc, shown here. make sure everything here is relevant to moon 15, and not moon 50! 3. IF your cat was dead when you copypasted, change that! Dead?? FALSE. from dead 'true'.. ... where did 4 and 5 go..- ANYWAY 6. EXPERIENCE. make sure you drop this back to where it was at that moon. lest your kit graduate to warrior bc they have 3000 experience. 7. FALLS INTO 2. do they have an apprentice in the Canon clan that they wouldn't have in the rewound clan? gET RID OF EM. (you can copypaste that portion from a cat without an apprentice or just rewrite it as 'null', but sometimes i type things wrong and get errors so.. i copypaste. just make sure you're copying and pasting from the right start and end point.) IF YOUR CAT HAD AN APPRENTICE IN MOON 15, AND NOT 50.. you can either just set them as mentor and apprentice ingame manually, or write it into the code. i would do it manually tho bc i'm easily confused

NOW WE GET INTO WHERE THE CLAN JSON IS IMPORTANT.

ABOVE ARE MARKED, IMPORTANT THINGS. some will break the game if you don't do it right. SO 1. Name. You can change this later, to your Canon clan name. You need to also change the FOLDER name to match. The folder that you click to get to your 'Clan Cats' files and stuff. YOU WILL HAVE TO CHANGE YOUR CANON CLAN FOLDER NAME AND FILE NAME TO SOMETHING ELSE or it'll corrupt! 2. HERE you change to the moon you want to rewind to. I'd change mine, to 15! season changes along with the moon number automatically. 3. INSTRUCTOR. this is the cat that leads your cats to starclan. predead. dw about it, unless you've messed with the dead cat and want to change it to your old starclan guide. then change the number, to your guide's ID number. You'll see it in the Clan Cats folder! LEADER. you need to change this to your clan leader's number or the files get confused. this is why i recommend replacing Rewound leaders with leaders, deputies with deputies, etc, and not also pasting the old numbers. the numbers are already set. ALSO this is where the leader's lives are dictated! DEPUTY. same as above! MED CAT.... SAME. but also, if you have multiple, add multiple! 4. You can change these names to the Canon names. if you had more or less other clans, you can delete or add more. just make sure to have the same number of clans as 'relations' and 'temperaments'! four clans, for traits and temperaments. 5 clans, 5 traits and temperaments. FINAL PAIN IN THE ARSE is.. having to adjust relationships. bc your 'new' clan won't have established relationships. you gotta go in and adjust the values. it sucks big ass but i don't know a better way to do it snff..

QUICK TIP if you absolutely don't want romance between two unrelated cats bc it would be weird for story reasons, you can change their status in the relationships file change family: false, to family: true. the game thinks they're related and romance won't happen HAHAHAAAAA .. at least in my experience. if this is wrong i'll cry

#kasks

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randomfoggytiger · 3 months ago

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React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Home Again), Part IV

This is the one Revival episode I was semi-curious about: it may drum up a lot of heartfelt ~emotions~, but my glasses-on-emotions-off side is dying to be intrigued or surprised or… placated.

It’s gotta happen at some point during this series.

Part I (My Struggle I), Part II (Founder's Mutation), and Part III (Weremonster).

Let's go!

HOME AGAIN

It’s Home Again tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime~.

Oh, no.

(Note from the future: Looking back, this sign makes me want to rage.)

…Why are the firemen antagonistically hosing down the homeless?

“You people?” In D.C.? In 2015? Sure, Jan.

This man’s career woulda been over in five seconds.

The firemen’s careers woulda been over in five seconds.

The police wouldn’t be standing by eating food on the job while supervising, what?

Does.

Do the writers remember how police procedurals work?

Do….

Do the writers not care about the casefiles anymore? Well, yes; but… do they not care… at all?

Guys, if I read this in a fanfic I’d have already skipped to the end, skimmed through the last paragraph, and closed the tab.

Solomon Grundy or the avenging Angel of Death or the Homeless Havoc Haver got off a dumpster… truck… and.

I’m not taking any of this seriously.

If the MSR is really good, I’m going to save all my snark for the plot.

It’s a stinky one already.

THE POLITICIAN GUY STARTS SCREAMING, THE BAD GUY STOMPS IN, RIPS HIS ARMS OFF, AND THAT KILLS THE POLITICIAN GUY?? RIPPING HIS ARMS OFF???? REALLY???

And no, he didn’t rip him in half-- he ripped his arms off.

All the homeless people zipped up their tents knowing the dead garbage... thing was coming-- so, do they have protection from it, or are they afraid of it?

Also, why did that soda can crunch up before the garbage truck even arrived? A visual that the Garbage Gargantuan was coming? …Before he actually, physically arrived? Even though he apparently can’t manipulate matter in that way himself? Or hasn’t shown himself to do so, yet?

It’s all kinda… shoddy.

“Sir, are you there?” said the most unconcerned voice on the other end of his discarded phone. …You couldn’t give me… something?

Wait, the garbage truck dropped him off, drove off, then had to drive back, I guess, to pick him up mere minutes later. Less than five. Less than three, even.

That makes no sense.

Here they cooooooooooooooooooooome….

Oh, that’s where these outfits came from. This episode.

Scully still has her middle-aged wine mom low-cut, very unprofessional-- and your girl knew how to be hot and professional back in the day. (I’m not even saying she has to be prudish, I’m saying why that shirt? Leaving it unbuttoned would work for a softer blouse, but hers has stiffer fabric, which makes the shirt bunch weirdly. You can see it particularly in the uneven collar and wrinkled lapels:)

Wait, what’s that weird, discolored stripe on Mulder’s left chest? It’s not a shadow from the tie, I don’t think. Is it a wet patch? A thinning patch of fabric?

Also, yes, this episode is a rip-off of Arcadia, who cares.

“Well, it looks like this person was born with no footprints. …Which is impossible, by the way.” Yes, Mulder, the team knows, THEY ASKED YOU ON THIS CASE. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the cuts didn’t hold too long or end awkwardly. Whoever was in the editing room really hampered the already questionable quality of their material.

Scully’s voice isn’t as “smoker” anymore.

WAIT, WAIT, HOLD UP. NONONONONONONONONO.

Mulder just looks out a window and sees a MURAL of the KILLER??????????

WHAT, DID THE HOMELESS POOL THEIR POCKET CHANGE, BUY PROFESSIONAL GRADE ART SUPPLIES, AND PUT GARBAGE GARY UP ON A BILLBOARD?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

MULDER AND HIS HOMELESS ART, TAKE TWO, I GUESS.

Maybe it was a local artist who heard the homeless stories and put it up, but....

Wait.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Scully has Bill’s name. In her phone. As William.

As.

William.

AS.

WILLIAM.

That was purely to tease the fans because there’s no way Bill goes by William.

Scully doesn’t even call Bill ‘William.’

Wait.

Those aren’t Scully’s nails.

Did the hand model casting department even try.

I WAS RIGHT, oh, look, it changed due to Scully’s ~trauma~, I guess.

The writers and cinematographers and directors didn’t even try.

Why would Scully have Bill in her phone as ‘William Scully, Jr.’ and not Bill? He’s Bill to her, not ‘William Scully, Jr.’ the 2nd, ™.

She didn't: it was a ~ trauma mirage~.

And a badly done one at that.

The writers tried to have a little “oh, look, it’s William!” moment, but the caller layouts are completely different. 'William' is front-and-center whereas the 'William' in 'William Scully Jr.' is shoved off to the left.

They should have done an extreme zoom-in on the ‘William’ part of ‘William Scully, Jr.’, then a snap over to Scully, then a snap back showing Bill's full name. It would get the point across without being nefariously baity.

(Note from the future: This makes even less sense in retrospect.)

Shoddy scene splicing, what’s new?

Bill was in Germany, huh. Guess he’s still in the military.

WAIT.

Maggie, who is in Maryland, next to D.C., had BILL listed as her emergency contact. (Note from the future: Not even that, it's worse.)

Who was supposed to be in Germany.

Instead of her daughter who is in D.C.

~~~~~~Tensions~~~~~~ I see.

Mulder immediately notices the slight change in Scully's voice and intuits Something’s Wrong. Good, good. The bare minimum, but good.

Wait, the EMTs found Bill's number on Maggie, or…?

So, did Maggie not have anyone listed as her emergency contact? ...And the writers want us to think Scully would stand for that in case of an emergency??

Well... that could be a valuable character beat, we’ll see.

Mulder telling Scully to immediately go and her “Yeah”ing and going is a good beat, too. They’re acting more like themselves... they’re acting like a 50-something version of themselves, at least; it’s good.

Don’t ruin this for me, writers. Don’t do it.

Scully’s gone and DID NO ONE THINK TO CHECK THE SECURITY TAPES??? NO ONE’S DONE THAT, YET????? NO ONE EVEN BOTHERED TO LOOK FOR A SECURITY CAMERA???

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

(WHY are we down but looking up into Scully’s face with really weird jumpcuts as she clops out of the building????

WHAT IS THIS.

This is not displaying her anxiety. It’s portraying impending madness.

THERE ARE FOUR. FOUR. MOUNTED SECURITY CAMERAS.

Mulder’s gauging the perpetrator's height based off of basketball players; but is this supposed to be a "heehee, haha, that's weirdo Mulder for ya" bit? Because his method is just... sensible and smart. (The other investigator has a split-second “what’s up with this dude?” expression, but that wouldn’t fit here because what Mulder did was, dare I say, normal.)

None of this is offensive, and it’s not drumming up real anger, so. That’s a win, I guess.

That street art was put up… this morning? THIS? Morning? How did someone scale and paint and get it all done before Mulder and Scully arrived?

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatever. Probably supernatural, anyway.

Mulder stepped in gum, then had the brilliant idea to preserve it as evidence. Smart.

Scully’s at the hospital.

Maggie’s in the hospital, alone. Ah, man.

This scene’s shot really well thus far. It has the right balance of music, the right balance of silence, the right balance of camera cuts.

And it’s immediately ruined.

WHEN MAGGIE GAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, SHE REPEATEDLY ASKED FOR "SOMEONE NAMED CHARLIE" AND NOT HER OWN DAUGHTER WHO LIVES IN D.C.

THIS ISN’T MAGGIE, WHAT.

There had better be a real-- and THOROUGH-- explanation for any of this. Maggie LOVED her little Dana and her daughter Melissa and Bill. But here we’re to assume Charlie has supplanted Melissa as the outcast or Dana as the favorite???

Really.

(Note from the future: Nope. It might be worse, though.)

To me, Dana was her "favorite"-- her "baby girl"-- all these years. The two always drew comfort and strength from each other, growing closer when Captain Scully passed and the other Scullys drifted away or died off.

But now Maggie wants Charlie. To what, right a wrong???

Scully has been shoved into this new reality of her mom not listing her as an emergency contact and only asking for Charlie-- NOT FOR HER, FOR CHARLIE-- and perhaps having suffered from health complications for a while now without filling her medical doctor daughter in on the details.

It’s so. Cruel.

“They’re estranged.”

CHARLIE’S ESTRANGED FROM MAGGIE.

WHAT.

WHERE DID THIS COME FROM.

I knew there were fandom speculations that Charlie was estranged, but I never knew it had confirmation in canon (well, the Revival canon.)

SO.

All this time, Charlie didn’t have a problem with his father-- since Bill is Captain Scully’s carbon copy and Charlie always called or communicated through him-- but with his mother.

What’s Maggie ever done? Honestly, what’s Maggie ever done for this to be her ending? What in canon pointed to estrangement or secrets from her children or whathaveyou?

If anything, this is Tena Mulder 2.0: estrangement from her son, asking for him to come before her death, keeping a health complication secret, dying without providing closure. But that’s not Maggie’s character and never has been.

I don’t understand this, Morgan and Wong or Morgan or Wong. At what point did you think this was the right decision to make for this character??

I can pick up what the writers are putting down-- no one truly knows another person, even if they think they do, etc.-- the FLAW with that logic is, we know enough about a person to notice if they're acting differently or out-of-character. And Maggie has always been a flamingly consistent person: she can’t hide her feelings and doesn’t feel shame in expressing them, she’s terrible at keeping secrets, and she’s torn apart if excluded from her loved ones’ personal lives. These traits have consistently remained the foundation of her persona. Changing them now-- so suddenly and completely-- is poor if not lazy or "hack" writing.

My fury is not solely because I like Maggie and want her to have a happy ending but because that’s not Maggie-- never has been-- and Maggie Scully would never act the way this Maggie has.

Regarding Charlie, he was never portrayed as “separate than” the Scully clan-- that was Melissa-- just always busy on military tour or whatever he was doing. He kept in contact with Bill, he let his sister babysit in Home (heh, Home Again, GET IT), and he sent presents to the family through Bill in A Christmas Carol. Maggie never seemed perturbed or disturbed or saddened or emotional when hearing his name or talking about him; and she would have been if there were something amiss.

“She, she didn’t ask for me, or for Bill, or for her grandchildren?”

The implication here is that Bill has children and Charlie doesn’t-- if Charlie had children, Scully would have assumed Maggie were trying to get in contact with his kids-- her grandchildren-- by calling him. Scully doesn’t say “all her grandchildren” or “her other grandchildren.” Nope.

So, Charlie’s not a dad, and Bill has more than one kid.

I do understand he was written as the lone guy with a wife (while Bill had a wife and kids) in Beyond the Sea, but times and lore have changed; and I’m disappointed Morgan and Wong or Morgan or Wong didn’t update their memory, too.

In a deleted script, Charlie was also, supposedly, single. And yes, that script was never produced, but I find it interesting that he and Melissa were kind of the “unattached” Scully kids, with Melissa being considered the black sheep and Charlie being considered largely absent.

“Hey, Mom. I’m here. I’ve been where you are. I know Ahab is there. And Melissa.” Um, okay. Something feels off about this, but I can’t pinpoint what.

“And Mom. I’m here.” That part can stay, wow it kinda got to me. Okay, Revival, you got something out of me. Huh. Don’t butcher this.

(‘Kay, so, I thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink the problem I had with the first statement was that it was a little clunky, a little “remider”y. But it bridges the gap between redundant and old X-Files dialogue, sooooooooooooooooooooo. I’m not sure how to sort it.)

“Bill, Jr.’s” (guess he’s forever called ‘Junior’, huh… that’s kinda hilarious, but also out of character) “here. And William.” Her crying over William a little, realizing she talked about him voluntarily for the first time, is also a nice touch. “And Charlie. Charlie’s here.”

Too bad I’m not invested in Maggie because… welp. Review criticisms above.

“Please, Mom, don’t go home yet. I need you.”

I do wonder why this is called Home Again-- I get it, it’s a wink-and-nod to M and W’s Home title, but the material doesn’t reaaaally sync. Unless, of course, Maggie’s real proud of “her boys”, and is tossing aside Scully’s importance aside because she never had children.... Well.

…Oh, my word, the two politiciany people on the scene are so highschool play. Stop, please. “Are you threatening me?”/”I’ve been threatening you for six months.”/”Well stop.” UGH.

Lady calls police-politician-whoever a name and Mulder jokes, “You married?” and mumbles a little as the lady stumbles over her words explaining…. That’s David-humor, not Mulder-humor.

Mulder having to become the voice of the homeless while hashing out this not-married couples’ couple banter aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand. Snore.

This is like a little Professor Layton sideplot where you can’t pass down the alley you need to get to if you don’t solve a random villager’s puzzle. Groovy.

Random homeless guy says “Band aid nose man” to Mulder and walks off. That’s a clue if I’ve ever been beaten upside the head with one.

Oh, look, the mural’s gone. Groovy.

WHY are we getting a flashback to Scully’s bedside from One Breath? I get it, I do, nostalgia, etc. etc. HOWEVER, I think this scene would have been better served if we heard Mulder’s voice instead of seen his hand because, I don’t know, Scully was in a coma and didn’t see this happening, I don’t think. Unless she had a bird’s eye view above her body and just hovered there for days, I guess.

Maggie has a new coin necklace, ooooooh, the woman without secrets had secrets, ooooooooooooooooooooooooooh. Ugh.

Bill called, and Scully finally called him ‘Bill.’

Bill needing to know if Maggie will die before he gets there and demanding expertise from Scully IS a Bill thing to do-- he’s probably not meaning to inflict more trauma on his sister, but he’s never paid attention to what does traumatize her. Nice, nice.

Maggie wanted to remain on life support, nice, nice, that fits with her One Breath experience and Catholic values, good.

That was a REALLY good scene, I will admit. Just having Scully watch someone else’s body be packed up for the morgue while Bill continually leeches answers from her on the other line, I wish that’s how the One Breath flashback had unfolded, too.

OH, it was a band aid, not gum, that stuck to Mulder’s shoe.

Why does the undead man need to wear a band aid on his nose.

Deadman’s neither dead nor undead. ‘Kay.

Scully’s being hyper-vigilant and boundary crossing into "doctor mode" while keeping an eye on her mom. Bored, trying to distract herself with work, nice, nice.

MAGGIE MADE A NEW DIRECTIVE WITHOUT TELLING SCULLY ABOUT IT. WHAT IS THIS, PAYBACK FOR WHAT HER DAUGHTER DID?????? But if this is payback to Scully, why is she ALSO punishing Bill??? Because Bill is being inadvertently punished: he was left in the dark, too, and only called incidentally. And even if that's the case, Scully's punishment is still WORSE. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Because of William???

Sorry, that’s not a Maggie thing to do. She mended fences between her husband and youngest daughter, embraced her despite the chaos of her life, even forgave her after the whole cancer debacle (being kept in the dark then forced into secrecy without the healthy outlet of discussion.)

MAGGIE’S JUST NOT VINDICTIVE, SHE’S NOT. WHY IS SHE NOW????????????????????????????????????????????????

Dudes are collecting the homeless paintings and selling them.

So the painting wasn’t---

OKAY, WAIT.

The mural (plural?) isn't supernatural.

Despite being completely finished and all materials being cleared away before Mulder appeared on the crime scene.

Despite two arthouse dealers swiping it before Mulder even walked away from the crime scene.

Despite them swiping it (hauling a ladder over, climbing it, unpinning the painting or whatever, climbing down, and scooting off) within minutes of Mulder seeing it from the window, checking the cameras, and going out to investigate.

With police swarming everywhere. After Mulder let the head of the team know he wanted to investigate the mural.

What.

Scully’s still dealing with this alone, ‘kay.

Not against that, either, because Mulder is busy and that is a thing he would do, even in his 50s. It’s how he operates. It’s how Scully expects him to operate. It’s how he operated when his own mother was on her deathbed (and after.) So, nice.

Maggie’s gonna get extubated.

The William screen thing keeps happening. Wish it WOULDN’T. At least do a zoom-in or weird camera angle then, not when Scully’s weirdly stumbling down the stairs.

Mulder’s here. That’s nice. Another thumbs up from me.

THIS is how you do character development: both characters acted on their modus operandi, but Mulder has grown enough to set aside time for Scully, to be there for her and help her. This isn’t after her mother’s death or after tragedy or after the truth has slipped through his fingers, this is during the long wait. Mulder’s still himself, but he’s also grown, too; and that growth hasn’t been shoved in our faces or jumped from A to B without proper explanation. Here, we get to see him make the choice and grow as a person. Further, Scully’s reaction lets us know this is NEW for her partner; and that she’s immensely grateful and touched to know he won’t leave her to do this alone.

THAT’s how it’s done.

Case stuff, who cares.

Mulder can’t stay. Scully’s going through it, doesn’t understand why her mother’s done what she’s done. Even Mulder’s surprised.

Disclaimer: this isn't The X-Files of old. These scenes may be good-- excellently acted, not too shabbily written-- but Mulder and Scully still don’t feel like Mulder or Scully. The characters (when not poorly written or wildly butchered) don’t even come close to the essence of IWTB, at times: as badly as that movie fell apart, at least Mulder and Scully retained a spark of their original selves. Here? DD and GA act as twins or doppelgangers. They’re not Mulder and Scully, they’re Clone!Mulder and Clone!Scully who exist separately from the juvenile nature of the cases they investigate, who exist only to sit near each other and talk over their past, and whose very existence and nature are determined by the writing flavor of the week. There’s no cohesion and no point to the plots-- there’s only a hint of Mulder and Scully, and, hopefully, a quiet second for the characters to absorb. And that’s not even a guarantee, anymore.

Mulder following after Scully and gently pulling her back when Maggie needs to be extubated-- good character moment. Scully not caring about the bigger questions right now-- also a good character moment.

The unfortunate darting on Scully’s top makes it look like she’s really cold in that hospital. (What an oddly constructed shirt, anyway. …Kinda just want to stare, marveling that it’s both: stiff and silkyish, has buttons and doesn’t, and isn’t naturally low-cut but is? ...I don’t miss 2015's fashion.)

A Home music number as someone gets murdered? Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Buuuuut why the lady and not the politician-police-guy? What? Why?

ANOTHER bit of character growth: not only does Mulder show up, but he stays. Ding, ding, ding! Good writer, that’s a good writer!

Though this all washes over and away because it’s in service of a Not-Maggie, so. Consider my investment shot.

Here are the lines I always read in gif sets:

“Back in the day, didn’t we ever come across the ability to just… wish someone back to life?”

“I invented it. When you were back in the hospital. Like this.”

“You’re a dark wizard, Mulder.”

See, those lines coulda been cheesy; but they were tempered and calmly handled. (Good writers, good writers, who’s a good writer!)

“What else is new?” Mulder adds, and laughs at his own joke. Self-deprecation and amusement in that one. And Scully is cheered up a little by it, too. Thumbs up, DD and GA.

Charlie called. Scully begging Charlie to “do what I can’t do” caught Mulder’s attention, as it did mine. That’s an interesting dynamic that could have been explored: she said it quite flippantly; and that’s a VERY big “I’ve just held you back” tell.

Aww, well. A question for a better series, I suppose.

AND Scully thinks Maggie will come back if Charlie talks to their mom. WOW, okay, that’s a lot... and will never be explored again. Ah, well. Again, a better series.

Charlie sounds how I expected him to, huh.

OH, NOW Maggie wakes up.

They all think it’s a miracle and then Maggie thinks Mulder’s Charlie. That made me laugh, I’m sorry. …Or am I?

WAIT, she didn't, scratch that. It's worse.

Maggie came back to say, “My son… is named William, too.”

Um.

Uuuuuuuuuuum.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM.

She really woke up, recognized both of them, then ignored her daughter, grabbed onto Mulder, and commiserated with HIM about their sons named William. As if she related to all of Mulder’s hardships and gave Scully absolutely zero grace or mercy.

That’s cold.

AND SCULLY’S SO DEVASTATED because she woke up that morning not knowing her mother had effectively cut her out of her life. Because of the past. Because of William.

WAIT. Wait. wait WAIT.

None of this makes sense.

Scully has been seeing ‘William’ all day on her phone. At first, we the audience assume that’s her continual guilt.

It’s revealed Maggie has open wounds over ‘William’, as well.

Maggie wakes up only to utter “My son… is named William, too”, which suddenly introduces a supernatural element to the messages on Scully’s phone.

But the only time Scully’s gotten supernatural messages in the past is from MELISSA.

So did Melissa try to connect with Scully to prepare her for Maggie’s final message before Maggie woke up? Did Melissa do that ever since Maggie collapsed, from the very first phonecall Scully received?

And if that’s the case… did Melissa hang out with Maggie in that forest with Ahab, but try to make connections with her living sister to prepare her?

And if so………………….. That’s the worst possible way to do it, giving Scully new layers of guilt and depression from failing her mother and reliving the moment she failed her son.

That’s… that’s. Melissa levels of unawareness, but she’s supposed to be all-knowing or less… Melissa in the afterlife, right???? If this is even Melissa????

And if it wasn’t Melissa, WHAT WAS THIS ALL ABOUT?????

Maggie wanted Charlie, she wakes when he talks, she ignores Scully completely-- who’s been by her side since coming back from being on-the-run, supposedly-- and talks about WILLIAM with MULDER.

It’s all so tangled and confusing. And, just. Mean. So unbelievably mean-spirited. To come back from the brink not when your daughter begs you to but because your son called while keeping said daughter and your other son out of the loop-- Bill was called by chance, after all-- and never leave clearer answers or messages or love or anything....

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow.

Tena’s was the worst death, but this angers me just as much because they did this to Maggie.

Yep, she’s dead.

SHE NEVER SAID A WORD TO CHARLIE, EITHER.

Her estranged son finally called and she died without speaking a word to him, or looking around for his voice, or anything.

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow I’m mad.

At least the episode’s not pretending to be a casefile.

UH OH, here comes the (can’t remember the name, help me out) morgue bed. Scully’s panicking over it, Mulder has to go wrangle her (gently) AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE FELT THE ESSENCE OF SCULLY other than a smirk or a smile. THAT’s Scully-- the fire, the fury, the indignation.

“Margaret” is what Mulder calls Maggie. Can’t remember if that’s canonical, either. Oh, wait, he called her “Mrs. Scully” in the past. Eh, it makes sense he changed it to Margaret.

Wait, does that mean “Maggie” was her husband’s endearment, and everyone else called her “Margaret?” The “Scully” and “Dana” nicknaming duality got a little more layered. If, if, if.

Scully’s beating herself up about William, but at least she says, “That we gave away” which means she considers Mulder a part of herself and her decision (and that he’s drilled that truth into her head until it stuck.)

“Why did she say that?” Because the script told her actress to do so. “Why did she have to say that?” I know, cruel, isn’t it?

Not getting Mulder from this scene, either. David can act, but he’s tooooooooooo… muted, here. Mulder would have given a little more.

The last frame hanging on his face is okay, though. Still too… muted.

Only one type of spray paint on crime scene evidence, one search on Scully’s part, next clue found in three seconds. Because that’s how life works.

Scully still struggling with her mother’s death, not clued in. Mulder whistling after leaving the shop, really subtle, but a fine character tidbit.

SCULLY JUST DROPKICKED THE--

NO.

THAT’S NOT HOW PHYSICS WORK.

SCULLY’S LITTLE TWIG ARMS AND LEG AREN'T TAKING ANYONE DOWN-- LET ALONE A GROWN MAN-- WITH A TEENY TWIST-FLIP-KICK MANEUVER, ON STILTS.

WHAT. I thought that scene happened in the computer simulation whatever episode. WHATWHATWHATWHATWHAT.

I can hear 90s David screaming about feminism from here.

The case continues to descend into “who cares?"ville.

The kid gets away because Mulder doesn’t do stairs anymore. And though we're all with Mulder in spirit, this is his job.

“Mulder, back in the day I used to do ‘stairs’ and in three-inch heels.” ‘Kay, Barbie. But Ken didn’t.

“Back in the day…. Scully, back in the day is ‘now.’” …..

………..

……………

……………….

What.

What did that dialogue have to do with the kid getting away and Mulder not chasing him? If “back in the day is now”, then Mulder would have done stairs and caught the kid.

“Back in the day is now” doesn’t make sense even if you two flash your lights over it.

OH, LOOK, THE FLASHLIGHTS ARE CROSSING AGAIN, GET IT.

We’re, like, four episodes in and Mulder and Scully are still slowly getting back in the groove of The X-Files.

OH, LOOK, THE CAMERA SHOT IS HOLDING ON THE FLASHLIGHTS MAKING AN X, DID YOU NOTICE IT YET???? Yes, yes we did.

WHAT WAS THAT. A rubber mask and suit popped out, hit the wall in front of them, and fell back into the shadows????

That was as convincing as the rabbit fur puppets mauling Gillian’s face.

Hurry it up, I don’t care about the case.

Mulder doesn’t do stairs but can kick the door in with one try in his tight, tight Patriarchy Pants.

I can hear 90s David screaming about feminism from here.

Grotesque clay masks, got it. Okay. All right. I’m bored.

A new character, the garbage man, is going on about homeless being treated like trash. ‘Kay.

He’s the artist? What. Doesn’t... what. He wouldn’t have time to put up the art after the murder but before--

Forget it.

Oh, it wasn’t him. They were… supernatural? What.

THIS TRASH GUY MADE A TULPA OUT OF TRASH.

HOW DARE YOU RIP OFF MY TRASH BABY TULPA EPISODE. HOW DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE YOU.

I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS TRASH RIPPING OFF MY TRASH.

GET OUTTA HERE.

ACTUALLY GET OUTTA HERE. GO ON, SHOO. BEAT IT. SCRAM. GET LOST.

AND NOW THEY’RE SAYING 'TULPA' WAS A MISTRANSLATION????? OH, THAT’S RICH. SO WHAT HAPPENED IN ARCADIA WASN’T A TULPA, BUT THIS ONE MIGHT BE.

THAT’S REAL CUTE.

A realized Tibetan thought form would never harm someone or kill.

But what if… hang on with me a second… what if it already did?

This guy willed it, so it happened.

This is giving Scully an idea. Guess she’s gonna manifest Maggie from the dead. Or manifest William from the clouds, I suppose. Or manifest herself a better wig, I reckon.

WHAT IN THE EXISTENCE FLASHBACKS IS THIS. HOW IS SCULLY COMPARING HER SON’S BIRTH TO WILLING A MONSTER INTO EXISTENCE?????? I, I, WHAT. NO. NO, DON’T DO THIS. THIS IS BAD, THIS IS VERY NOT GOOD.

“He came to me,” the guy explains, and Scully now thinks William came to her???

Is… is this a revelation or a mental breakdown????????

“But in the end, he told me what he wanted to be.”

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??? IMPLYING THAT WILLIAM WANTED TO BE PUT UP FOR ADOPTION-- SHOWING HIM CRYING IN S9-- IN ORDER TO GIVE SCULLY SOME CLOSURE ON THAT MATTER AFTER HER MOTHER’S RECENT DEATH???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

NO ONE TOLD ME THIS. NO ONE WARNED ME.

THE AUDACITY OF THE WRITERS.

SHAME, ACTUAL SHAME, ON THEM.

…I will take all this back if the script does, but WHAT IN THE WORLD. THIS IS INSANE.

Never have I EVER seen Scully so broken mentally. Wow. Morgan and Wong or Morgan or Wong love her character? I’d think they view her as the band aid on their shoe. Wow.

(Note from the future: They don't take back any of this implication, only gaslight us into believing Scully was thinking a totally other, very normal thing about "responsibility." Which is utter doodoo.)

“All we do, is hold the pencil. All we do, is hold the clay. I think there must be spirits or souls--” GET OUT OF HERE WITH THAT FIELD WHERE I DIED GARBAGE. GET. OUT. YOU BUTCHERED THAT EPISODE THROUGH YOUR OWN SHEER INCOMPETENCE, YOU CAN’T TRY TO REWRITE IT NOW THROUGH ANOTHER LENS TO MAKE US SWALLOW YOUR POISON LIKE PUNCH.

GET.

OUT.

OF.

HERE.

“And if you think so hard, if you want them real bad, they’ll come to you.”

Stunning.

A thought experiment that would be interesting to tap into when explaining the *insert words* of The Field Where I Died’s plot, but is ABSOLUTELY. IRRESPONSIBLY. IDIOTIC. here in light of the sheer amount of trauma you are putting Scully through, right this second.

Full disclosure: I don’t care how many bad things are done to the characters-- I really don’t-- IF those experiences give weight or add to their stories or history. THIS, HOWEVER, DOES NOT.

I’M FURIOUS. I’M SO FURIOUS I MIGHT TEAR UP.

HOW DARE YOU INSERT EXISTENCE FLASHBACKS TO--

i’m done. let’s just move on.

I’m struck anew with how these characters aren’t Mulder and Scully-- not even S9 Scully-- when both scenes are positioned back-to-back.

I just knew this episode would be butchered, but never would I ever….

By the way, to catch us back up to speed, Scully’s having this… revelation while a garbage man rambles about the MURDERING THOUGHT FORM he dreamt into being.

Also, the cuts and flashbacks A. reinforce my disdain of this series, B. are cheesy and corny, and C. are ham-fisted and clunky. You know how it should have been done? Without the flashbacks. Not one soul who is watching this episode needs to be hand-held through Scully’s memories, especially ones we’ve already seen mere minutes ago.

Scully’s clutching her cross after remembering her mom’s words, ‘kay.

I LAUGHED AGAIN.

Mulder’s been listening to this guy and looks over and does a doubletake because Scully’s frozen LIKE THIS:

Mental. Health.

Also, considering what happens to Jackson’s character later on… this episode is kind of implying Scully was so terrified by the constant tragedy in her life that she willed a tulpa-alien-god baby into existence (or WOULD have, if given the opportunity, which is worse) for her own selfish reasons, or for the world’s protection; then yeeted it to the adoption agency, anyway. (Note from the future: This implication doesn't make broad canonical sense, and is kinda reverted, later, but:) ...Which plugs dangerously well into her disavowal of William in My Struggle IV. Which makes me hate Home Again even more.

(Also also, that turns Scully into Arcadia's Gogolak. Stellar writing.)

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh, have to break this down.

If Scully thought William into existence, he wouldn’t be a normal baby in S8. Which he was. He also wouldn’t be a magic baby with independent will in S9 (who is closer to the alien DNA kids in Founder’s Mutation that cut themselves out of their moms to survive, but ANYWAY.) He’d be a thought form controlled by one impulse. A tulpa. Or-- let’s extrapolate-- a Supersoldier like Billy Miles. Which he wasn’t.

If Scully is comparing herself to the Syndicate that brought beings into a tormented existence for their own ends (or to the garbage guy’s intent) and is… freed? by that thought…. She needs help-- not “go to therapy, babe”, no, actual, real, extensive help outside of the FBI and away from work, period, for awhile. That’s so incredibly unbalanced it’s… kinda scary.

Also, again, if Scully willed Jackson into Existence-- say, by touching the alien spaceship?-- the timeline wouldn’t match her late S7 pregnancy-- but what else is new-- but would condemn her for Jackson’s later erratic actions, anyway.

And therefore, Scully becoming pregnant in My Struggle IV would have to be an actual, literal miracle because she didn’t taint it with a thought-form or alien DNA or any other thing this episode or Founder’s Mutation or the other Struggles are suggesting.

Any of these possibilities are foul. If William exists, he’d have to be a normal baby (as he was until the writers changed him) or it would crumble the very meaning of his birth and the leadup to it from Requiem to Existence.

It. just. doesn’t. make. sense. and. continues. to. be. cruel.

Scully now thinks she’s responsible for “making the problem” and Mulder’s like “huH” and “UHOH” at the same time.

Okay, let’s say M+W or M or W take the aforementioned implication back: this scene is utterly and unfathomably cruel, a cherry on top of the other cruelty they put Scully through this episode.

I’m gonna say it: at least Chris Carter gave William to Scully.

“You’re just as bad as the people that you hate,” a.k.a. "You did a bad thing by playing god and creating life only to abandon it."

Thanks M+W, I really needed “Scully comparing herself to the Consortium” on my list of Unexpected Things to Hate, that was nice.

NOW the tulpa’s going after the politician-policeman. Not before killing the woman who wanted the homeless on the streets if they preferred, but after, now that he's moving them into a nicer facility.

Oh, the guy’s soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo evil because one of the homeless people's dog’s temporarily at an animal shelter. Well, yeah it was kinda evil to separate them (temporarily.) Had to make politician-police dude eviler, I guess.

He smells something bad, oh, nooooooooooo…………….

Guys, gonna be honest. How’s this politician-police-whoever guy bad? He’s callous, but he’s moving the unhoused into housing where they can, hopefully, have better access to resources to get back on their feet.

…What’s the moral here? That no one treats them like people, therefore the tulpa or thought form will kill indiscriminately? Even if the homeless might be benefiting? That the garbage man just didn’t like HOW policeman-politician-whoever was operating, so thought up a tulpa to kill him and the others?

Slow clap for the stupidest morality tale I’ve seen in a bit.

I. just. Can the writers craft an episode where the homeless are actually being victimized?

Oh, wait, the 90s already did that. Huh.

Poli-man’s about to be murdered. Mulder and Scully arrive and gently jaunt down the hall towards his screams. That’s cute.

They were literally FOUR. SECONDS. too late. Then don’t express a sense of remorse or whatever that they were. And this guy isn’t villain- enough to be given zero remorse, c’mon, save that for the big 'uns.

Tulpa’s vanishing instead of walking away, I guess.

Scully’s too calm for acknowledging they just heard politician-policeman die. He was screaming for help and you two didn’t speed up. 100% they wouldn’t be able to pass the FBI field tests. A witness-victim-whatever just died because they were FOUR SECONDS late, that shouldn't have happened.

The gymnastics of this plot, summed up:

Monster always leaves band aids behind, I guess.

Garbage man made the band aid sculpture’s face into a smiley so it's gone forever, I GUESS.

Wait, LAKE SCENE??

THAT’S IT???

THIS IS IT??????????????????????

“I know now why Mom asked for Charlie even if he was out of her life.” OH, THIS HAD BETTER BE GOOD and not A. “she’s a mom, so she loved and missed him” or B. “she created him so he mattered.” Because neither of those answers explains what she did and didn’t do or say to the two children that stuck by her.

*sharpens harpoon*

*THUNK*

I KNEW IT.

SHE WANTED TO KNOW BEFORE SHE LEFT THAT HE’D BE OKAY.

Then WHY did she ignore Charlie on the phone and TALK TO MULDER while laying on another layer of guilt about William WITH HER DAUGHTER, who'd been pleading for Maggie to come back to her, RIGHT THERE???

Just because Maggie “gave birth to him” doesn’t mean anything.

Like.

Guys.

Of course she wants to know her son’s okay, of course. She raised him, she loved him, etc.

But. But but but.

If she’s the loving mother we all knew from the OG series that SUDDENLY took a dive into secrecy and distrust and guilt-tripping, there would have been signs. Scully missed all of them, didn’t even know her mom had her living will signed by other veteran sailors (AND WHO ARE THEY?), doesn't even know what the quarter lore is.

You can’t have Maggie want to know her baby’s okay while actively neglecting and ignoring the others. You can’t.

*sharpens second, third, and fourth harpoon*

“She made him. He’s her responsibility.”

*THUNKKITY THUNK THUNK*

OH. MY. WORD.

THIS IS SO TWISTED.

Scully is now being guilted for giving up William, AGAIN, because she needs to "take responsibility" for him.

Canonically, she gave him up because she was taking responsibility for him-- to protect him, to take care of him.

And whether that decision was justified or not-- it wasn’t-- S9 Scully and IWTB Scully and pre-this-episode Scully and Mulder made the best they could of that decision for their son’s sake.

A.k.a. Responsibility.

HOW DOES THAT TRANFSER ONTO MAGGIE? What responsibility does she have to take?? Perhaps she drove Charlie away?? But none of her behavior thus far would have driven him away.

So, not only has Maggie’s character been harpooned on her deathbed, but her past off-screen behavior must also be harpooned in order to justify that "responsibility" line: a.k.a., she must have been a horrible person to Charlie, and must want to take responsibility for that action now.

Because “responsibility” doesn’t fit IF Charlie walked away of his own accord for his own reasons, separate from his mother’s actions or behavior.

Also, “responsibility” doesn’t fit PERIOD with either scenario: Scully already took responsibility for William when she sent him away (as stupidly as that decision was written, it wasn’t written for any other pretense) but Maggie DIDN’T take “responsibility” because she didn’t even apologize or question or talk to or whatever with Charlie. She did it WITH MULDER, and even THEN she was urging HIM to take responsibility of William, if anything.

Know what’s worse? They’re saying all the pain Scully is going through (and put Mulder and her family through) is because she hasn’t taken responsibility for William, and that she needs to go find him and make it right. IGNORING THE FACT THAT IT WAS REVIVAL MULDER, NOT SCULLY, WHO PUT WILLIAM BEHIND HIM. IF ANYTHING, IT WAS SCULLY WHO TOOK RESPONSIBILITY ALL THESE YEARS.

Which means Scully is culpable for everyone’s emotions and pain and trauma because she gave her son away for his safety. AND I DON’T EVEN AGREE WITH HER DECISION-- there’s no way she would have given William up, and most certainly not that way-- BUT YOU WRITE SCULLY INTO AN IMPOSSIBLE SITUATION, THEN PUNISH AND REVICTIMIZE HER AT THE HANDS OF HER OWN MOTHER IN ORDER TO "OWN UP" TO "RESPONSIBILITY."

I’m... pretty mad.

I should be furious, really, because this does unfathomable damage to… everyone. But My Struggle I's and Founder’s Mutation's brain rot runs deeper-- by comparison this is a 0.5 to its -1,000,000.

At least we know what the coin necklace date was supposed to mean: the date Charlie walked out of Maggie’s life. “Responsibility” and all that garbage.

“She wanted us to be responsible…. To make sure William’s okay, even if we can’t see him.” That is NOT what Maggie said, and that is NOT what she meant. “My son… is named William, too” was a commiserating statement spoken to MULDER, indicating he, like her, suffered from an estrangement. And who would be the enforcer or creator of that estrangement? The same woman who broke up with Mulder over depression (before he had a meltdown or breakdown, despite knowing his history of suicidal tendencies.)

The Revival does Scully (and her mother… and Mulder…) so dirty it’s. Ugh.

Can someone knock Not-Maggie's ashes over onto the ground or something? That way she can join her brethren, the dirt.

Let’s be honest, this Home Again should have been further down the season. ‘Cuz if Babylon’s next… guess they didn’t look for William.

Scully’s smoker voice makes its first appearance, ugh. Code broken: GA uses smoker voice when Scully is feeling teary or depressed.

UGH.

“...To keep him safe. That it was for his own good to put him up for adoption. But I can’t help but think of him, Fox.” The requires the special 'what', *ahem*: WAHT.

“I believe you will find all of your answers--” ALL. OF. YOUR. ANSWERS?

“And I will be there when you do.” WHEN YOU DO?! What is she, an elementary school teacher holding Mulder's hand while he explores around the gymnasium??????????????? Where’s the Scully who insisted this was her quest, too???? ...wwwwwWHAT.

This is. This is. Guys. Why.

“But my mysteries… I’ll never have answered.”

Um. Scully can’t figure out how to find William?

She can’t, just, go back to the agency and offer to connect with her son? 2012’s over-- the world might end, still, but CSM’s dead (as far as she knows), APPARENTLY there are no aliens or Supersoldiers, and no one’s cared about her and Mulder getting back on the files.... Where is THIS coming from???? Just ring up the agency, Scully!

UUUUUUUUUG.

“...If he’s ever been afraid, and wishes I were there. Does he doubt himself, because we left him?”

While Scully continues to speak, I must add: Mulder looks like a browbeaten 50s housewife. I love watching DD’s acting as much as GA’s, but David’s giving nothing here. I KNOW it’s a direction issue because he’s been consistently this key the entire episode (except for the... comedy or “dark wizard” scene) so SOMEONE wants Mulder to be this way. But.

But it doesn’t line up with his character from the previous eps.

And the previous episodes don’t line up with each other.

And all the Revival eps. don't line up with IWTB.

Or S9.

Or canon.

Etc., etc.

“What… questions does he have of me? The same that I have of this quarter?” Um. I thought we concluded that was the date Charlie walked out.

Isn’t Scully the investigator, here? Maggie kept that quarter necklace secret, Maggie kept her health secret, and Maggie only wanted to talk to Charlie-- ergo, Charlie’s connected to the quarter necklace. And if it’s not his birthday, it’s the date he left. Ergo, voila.

“And I want to believe--” yeah, yeah, yeah, “--that we didn’t treat him like trash.”

This doesn’t match.

The writing treated him like trash because Scully was written to give him up for no reason. (Perhaps "like garbage" is a fun dig at CC's decision, but Scully ends up taking the damage for it.)

Scully herself didn’t treat William like trash-- she was trying to protect him.

In short: writers = trash; Scully = not trash. Scully’s decision = trash, Scully’s canonical reason = not trash.

Are we following canon now, writers? Have you caught up WITH YOUR OWN SHOW?

Mulder decides against talking, opting to pull her into a hug, instead.

Um.

Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhere’s the reassurance, Mulder. You reassured her in Founder’s Mutation quite soundly, but not. Here. When she’s in crisis.

Groovy. Stellar. Ugh.

...WELP, that’s the end, I GUESS.

CONCLUSION

What. was. that.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

58 notes · View notes

ts19009 · 6 months ago

Text

Hong's Anatomy: Part 3

Pediatrician surgeon! Joshua x pediatric surgeon! Female Reader

Synopsis: Coming to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital wasn’t on your bucket list, that’s for sure, but when you meet the head of your department, Joshua Hong, it's one of the only things that constantly brightens your day.

Warnings: swearing, made up medical terms and procedures, i have no idea if any of this is medically accurate it’s just for story, flirting, smut (18+) (oral: f -receiving, penetrative sex, no protection, aftercare)

Words: 5.9k words

NOT EDITED, SO I MAY GO BACK AND EDIT LATER (teehee)

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

“You what?” Rose shrieked, as you told her what happened over the weekend with Joshua. You spared her all the details, but it was still enough for a surprised reaction.

“Rose!” You hushed, “I don’t want the whole hospital to know.”

“Sorry,” she said, looking down at her tablet, trying to be discreet. “So are you and Doctor. Hong dating now?”

“I don’t know, we didn’t talk about it after getting up,” you confessed. It was true, after waking up you both ate breakfast and spent the rest of the morning talking about surgeries before he left. You probably should have talked about the status of your relationship, but it just never came up.

“Well you can now, he’s coming this way,” Rose said, briefly looking up in the direction of Joshua. You turned around to see him strutting his way over to you both with a big smile on his face.

“Doctor. L/N, Rose. Lovely day we’re having!” He exclaimed, leaning against the desk, causing you to let out a chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen you this happy to be in on a Monday,” you answered as Joshua shrugged.

“I guess I have a reason to be happy to come in, and it just so happens to be a Monday,” he flirted, winking at you. Rose let out a laugh, while you blushed and looked around, again, to make sure no one was looking at you.

“Joshua,” you warned, “not in public!”

“What’s not in public?” Jeonghan asked, approaching the desk.

“I gotta go check in on a patient,” Rose said, looking towards you.

Shit.

She was leaving you with both the men you were potentially interested in.

“Nothing’a not in public,” you stuttered, as Jeonghan raised an eyebrow in question. “What are you down here for?”

“I have cleft palate surgery in a few minutes on room twelve,” he said, pointing behind him. It was a little boy named Miles.

“Right, good luck. Miles is really excited,” you said, as Jeonghan nodded.

“What about you too?”

“I’m in the pit. I just came up for my break.” Joshua sighed, winking at you. Jeonghan noticed the wink and looked between you too for a few seconds before turning to you.

“What about you?”

“Uhh, I’m treating a stage four lung cancer patient with Doctor Wen,” you said, looking between Joshua and Jeonghan. It was like a weird guy stand off thing going on between them. They were both looking at you.

“We haven’t worked together in a while,” Jeonghan added, “I miss your work ethic. Quick thinking, efficient, hard working. Every doctor's dream.”

“I would say that I hope we get to work with each other soon, but..” Jeonghan nodded.

“We have a surgery together tomorrow!” Joshua interrupted. Jeonghan’s eyebrows raised and you sighed and internally wanted to hit Joshua over the head.

“Well, I have to go to surgery here pretty soon,” Jeonghan chuckled, “lovely to see you again Y/n,” he smiled at you before side eyeing Joshua and giving him a curt nod. “Doctor. Hong.”

As soon as Joshua turned the corner you hit his shoulder. “What the hell was that?” You exclaim, as he holds his shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I told you, not in public,” you sighed, “that was very so in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. Plus Jeonghan is attracted to you,” Joshua whispered, “he wanted to set up another date. He told me yesterday. I just don’t know where we stand right now.”

“We can talk about where we stand after work okay? Let’s meet at Joe’s.” Joshua nodded before Rose called you to a code blue. Joshua quickly followed you to the room where Joy, your stage four lung cancer patient, was crashing.

“Push 1 milligram of Epinephrine, start compressions and get a crash cart!” Joshua ordered as you started compressions.

“The chemotherapy must have weakened his heart more than we had realized,” you told Joshua, backing off as he charged the paddles to 200.

“Clear!” Nothing. “250. Clear”

“We got him, page Doctor Wen and let's get to the OR,” you ordered Jake as he nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Joshua asked, as you shook your head.

“No, you gotta go down to the pit. Finish your lunch, I’ll tell you how it goes tonight,” you promised as Joshua nodded and gave your hand a little squeeze before leaving.

“Are we ready to kick cancer's ass?” Jun asked, walking into the scrub room, you nodded but didn’t say anything. “I heard that Joshua helped save him.”

“He did,” you simply said, Jun kept washing his hands. You both kept washing your hands in not quite comfortable silence, but not awkward silence.

“He always talks about how much he enjoys working with you,” he says, turning off the tap, “I don’t know what’s going on between you too, but he talks with us a lot and he really likes you. He was excited to see you at Jeonghan’s party.”

If Jun only knew what happened after Jeonghan’s party.

“I like working with him too, but it’s a little bit more complicated than a normal situation Jun,” you said, also turning off the tap and following him into the OR. “He’s my boss.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated if you don’t want it to be. It’s not like either of you have a kid,” he said, as the nurses were scrubbing you both.

“Yeah, but what if we get into an argument at home and then have to come to work. That messes up your communication, which can cause a patient a life,” you explain.

“That’s what we’re here for,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder, “you’re not in this alone. Everyone supports you, even Jeonghan.”

You were surprised to hear that Jeonghan was supportive of you and Joshua. Joshua said that he was giving the opposite impression.

“I know it may seem like he doesn’t. But he’s an adult, and if you don’t choose him he’ll be okay,” Jun said, as Rose handed him a scalpel. “Now, let’s get this cancer under control so that this little boy can go home.”

You started with monitoring his heart and making sure that it was strong enough to take the surgery before starting dissecting the cancer. Joey had about thirty tumors everywhere over and in his lung. Jun was the best thoracic surgeon, but Joey was only seven years old. His lungs were small, so you had to be extra careful not to make the wrong cut.

“Lap pads,” Jun said, as Green handed him some lap pads. “So are you going to talk to Joshua?” You looked up from your patient to look at Jun. He hadn’t looked up yet, but did when you started looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Y/N. You’ve both been beating around this bush since you’ve gotten here. He’s waiting for you to give him the signal.”

‘I’ve given him plenty of signals Jun,” you sighed, “it’s been a month since I’ve been here. I’m still trying to get to know him.” You took off another tumor.

“You see him everyday Y/N. Work with him almost everyday, what do you not know about him?” Jun asked, taking another tumor off as you sighed and put your scalpel down to look up at him again.

“I don’t know. What is his favorite food? What’s his favorite color?” You said, as Jun stopped dissecting and put down his scalpel for a second.

“Just talk to him Y/N. Please,” he pleaded. You sighed, but nodded. You didn’t have to tell him that you were planning on talking to him after work. Not everything should be your friend's business.

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“How was the surgery?” Jeonghan asked, as you came out of the OR with Jun behind you.

“It was good, we managed to get all his tumors out. Now he just has to do a few weeks of chemo,” you smiled, leaning against the wall and took a deep breath as Jeonghan stood in front of you and handed you a cup of coffee.

“That’s amazing, congratulations,” he smiled. “Do you want to go on a not date after work? There's a diner by my new place that I haven’t tried yet and was too scared to go alone if the food sucks.”

You winced and took the cup out of his hands before taking a sip, “I would, but.. I’m meeting with Joshua after work. We really need to talk about…” you trailed off as Jeonghan nodded.

“Ahh of course, don’t worry about it,” he smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we can go another time. It’s not closing tomorrow,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “It does look like I need to step up my game a little bit more though.”

You blushed and chuckled before looking over his shoulder to see Joshua standing in the middle of the hallway watching the entire interaction happen.

“Joshua!” You exclaimed, as Jeonghan dropped your hand and spun around. You tried to move around Jeonghan to get to him, but it was too late, Joshua was already walking away. You followed him down the hall a little ways before Rose stopped you by calling your name.

“Doctor Y/N, it’s Joey!”

Joey’s monitor was beeping like crazy and you check his monitor.

“BP 80/90!”

“Get a ventilation tube!” You ordered, “and page Doctor. Wen!”

Rose nodded and handed you the tube as you opened Joey’s mouth and started ventilating him. By the time you got the tube down his throat and the monitor started steadying out Doctor. Jun had run from the pit.

“What happened?” He said, taking the stethoscope off his chest and putting it up against his chest.

“I think his lungs are collapsing.” Jun nodded and looked at his chart.

“I need a chest tube!” Rose handed him one and a scalpel and he moved quickly to make an inspection and place the tube between the ribs into the space around the lungs to help drain the air and allow the lung to expand.

“Is he going to be okay?” Joey’s older sister asked, from outside the room.

“His stats are looking better already. He’s going to be under for another day or two, but once his lung re-expands we’ll take a look at what to do next,” you explained, as she nodded and called her parents.

“This poor kid, weak lungs, weak heart. Let’s hope nothing else craps out on him,” Jun says, taking off his gloves and throwing them in the trash. You scoffed, but nodded.

“How did we not see the signs of it collapsing?” You asked, as Jun shrugged.

“I don’t know. I double checked to make sure there were no holes and that the arteries were clear, I guess. I must have ticked it when closing up.”

“I’m going to go take a nap in the on-call room. Call me if anything changes,” you said to both Rose and Jun as they both nodded and started talking to each other about next steps for Joey.

When you got to the on-call room you opened it to see Joshua lying there, not asleep yet, but his eyes were closed. He quickly jumped up when you closed the door on him, but scoffed and went to lay back down.

You didn’t say anything, but you went to the bed and straddled him. Joshua’s eyes darted open in surprise, but didn’t say anything and put his hands on your hips and nodded. You both didn’t need to say anything, it was a long, shitty day for both of you.

You also nodded and leaned down to start kissing him as he squeezed your hips. You sighed into the kiss and pulled away a few seconds later to take off your scrub top and throw it across the room. You were wearing a black push up bra and panty set, and you could tell that Joshua was digging it. He smiled and went to push his shirt off as well. You both moved quickly to take off all of your clothes and went back to passionately kissing each other. Only letting out quiet moans once in a while to not give yourself away.

“I never thought I’d be the guy to have sex at work,” Joshua sighed, as you moved to start kissing his neck, “another thing I’m not opposed to.” You groaned, and looked up at him to see him smirking, before he cupped your cheek and led your face to his to kiss again. You slid his underwear down his legs and then took yours completely off before looking back to him. He was panting and looking up at you with hooded sleepy eyes.

All of a sudden you had a great idea. You took your panties in your hand the same time that you lined his cock to your core and started sliding down on him. Before he could let out a moan you put your wet panties in his mouth to muffle them. Joshua’s eyes opened when he felt the fabric hit his lips and moaned again at both the taste of yourself on the panties and when you fully sat yourself all the way down on him.

He squeezed your hip harder. He didn’t want to leave bruises, but you were so hot and felt so good that he couldn’t give a shit. Once he was fully inside you, you moved your hips a little bit to get yourself used to him before you started rising up and dropping yourself down on him again and then moving your hips back and forth.

Joshua threw his head back as soon as you dropped on him the first time and moved one of his hands to grope your breast over your bra. He took one strap and pulled it down so that one of your breasts was spilling out of it and started massaging it and pinching the nipple. You gasped at the contact with your sensitive nipple and threw your head back as well.

You kept moving up and down until Joshua grabbed you and flipped you onto your back and lifted one leg around his hips to keep pounding into you at a new angle. You were getting close.

“M’ close,” you moaned, as Joshua nodded.

“Me too baby,” he said, kissing you again and started moving faster and used the other hand that wasn’t holding your leg to rub your clit to bring you over the edge. When you did climax you squeezed down on him hard enough to make him cum as well. You both continued kissing for a few more minutes before he eventually pulled away and out of you.

You hissed at the loss of contact but Joshua quickly grabbed a few tissues and wiped your legs before plopping himself on top of you. You groaned at the impact but wrapped your arms around him. You liked the closeness and wanted a few more minutes of peace with him before you had to start talking.

“Do you like me?” You asked, as Joshua chuckled. His chest vibrating against yours.

“Of course I like you babe. We’ve slept with each other twice in three days,” he said, lifting his head from your shoulder to look you in the face. “Why?”

“It was something Jun said today in surgery,” you said.

“He said something?”

“Nothing bad,” you reassured, “he said that you were waiting for a signal.” Joshua went still on top of you and looked you in the eyes.

“He told you that?” He asked, as you nodded and pushed some hair from his face.

“This is my signal,” you whispered. Joshua smiled and took your hand, pressing a kiss to it before kissing you slowly.

“If I haven’t made it obvious. I really, really like you,” he said in between kisses, “and I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You smiled, but before you could say anything, Joshua’s pager started going off. It was right beside the bed, so he easily grabbed it.

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up and started gathering his clothes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

“It’s my patient from the pit, he’s code blue,” he said, putting on his shirt. “I’ll see you after work,” he smiled quickly, before rushing out of the room leaving you naked and alone.

After your little nap, you still had some time to kill. So you went your way to Jeonghan’s office. You wanted to be Joshua’s girlfriend and you couldn’t accept with Jeonghan still pursuing you. You needed to put an end to the flirting.

“Is Doctor Yoon still in surgery?” You asked one of the nurses. She shook her head no, and pointed to an office.

Jeonghan’s office.

You nodded and thanked her before making your way over and knocking on the door.

“Come in!” He exclaimed. As you opened the door he looked up from his computer and smiled. “Hey, come in,” he said, gesturing his head for you to sit in a chair across from him. You hesitated but sat down. “You look nervous, what’s up?” He asked, folding his hands and putting them under his chin.

“Joshua asked me to be his girlfriend,” you blurted out. Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth parted a little.

“Oh. Congratulations,” he said.

“That’s the thing. I didn’t answer him because I know that even though I like him, I also like you. And I didn’t want to say yes to him when you were still flirting with me,” you confessed.

“You wanted to come here to tell me to stop flirting with you?” He asked, as you stayed silent for a moment.

“Yes,” you answered, “I really do like you, but…” you said, but Jeonghan interrupted you.

“I’m not him?” He asked, a painful smile across his face as you nodded.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, but…”

“It’s okay Y/N. I understand. Can we still be friends?” He asked, standing up. You smiled and stood up as well before nodding.

“I’d love to still be friends,” you exclaimed, as Jeonghan spread his arms out for a hug. You smiled and walked around his desk to give him a hug. “You know Jun told me that if I choose Joshua that you’d be okay.”

“Jun, Joshua and I have been friends for the longest. We went to kindergarten together. That’s why he’s the Joshua and Jeonghan whisperer,” he chuckled, “and he’s right. I’m gonna be okay. It hurts, but I’m gonna be okay.”

You nodded before your pager went off. “I’m sorry,” Jeonghan nodded and stepped back a bit.

“Of course, I’ll see you later,” he smiled as you nodded and went to the pit where you were paged. It hurt walking away from Jeonghan like this. Some part of you knew that your relationship would change, but maybe change for the better.

“What’s going on?” You asked, running into the ER to see a little girl being lifted out of the ambulance.

“Bella, five years old. Fell off a three story ladder, broke her entire left side. Arms, legs, ribs, collarbone, everything, she's also concussed,” Heesung said, as you both wheeled her into the pit.

“What the hell was she doing up a three story ladder?” You asked, looking back to see her parents getting out of the ambulance.

“This was at school, Bella sneaked away and climbed up it. Her parents were the one that watched her fall off the ladder,” he said as you sighed. Bella’s mother was sobbing while her father was talking to the other ambulance driver.

“Book an OR and call Doctor Chwe!” You ordered.

“Already here,” he said, coming to the other side of the gurney. “We’re gonna have to operate multiple times at once. I can do the arms and legs, can you do her ribs?” You nodded.

“Let’s go people!” You hollered, wheeling Bella into the elevator. As soon as you got her into the OR. You immediately started working. Vernon started on her leg to make sure it wouldn’t lose blood circulation and functionality while you started cleaning up her ribs.

“It’s a mess down here!” Vernon sighed, “everything is broken into a million pieces, even her toes.”

“Her rib looks pretty nasty as well,” you sighed as well, “it’s not fully grown so we can’t just let it heal on it’s own. I’m gonna have to screw them in place to make sure that they don’t grow out of place and puncture anything.” Vernon nodded and took a second to think about what to do.

“I’m gonna be down here for a while. When you’re done could you start on her upper side?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “it’s gonna be a long day.”

You spent the next hour placing titanium rods in place to stabilize the brake before moving up to the arm. Her shoulder, elbow, wrist, collarbone, and fingers. You then spent the next two hours alone, then two more with Vernon fixing everything.

“Shit,” you said. It was your last operation on her hand and three out of the five fingers were losing color.

“What’s going on? I thought her arteries were still intact?” Vernon asked, moving around to try and get a better visual of her hand.

“Oh no, there’s a cut in this artery, it’s bleeding out,” you said, “Jonah suction on the site right now.” Jonah nodded and put the tube right on the spot.

“Her other fingers are blue now too,” Vernon exclaimed, “we’re going to have to amputate.”

“Amputate?” You exclaimed, “we can’t fix the cut, or save her hand?”

“No, even if we do ‘save’ the hand, I doubt she’ll get any functionality back, his nerves are also severed,” he said, pointing to a nicked vein.

“Shit, we should have operated on this first,” you exclaimed.

“No, if I hadn’t operated on her leg, she would have lost it as well,” Vernon reassured, “and if you didn’t fix her rib, her lung would have been punctured. Remember?”

You nodded and sighed, before getting out the saw and handing it to Vernon.

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“So how did your patient turn out? The one that interrupted us in the on-call room?” You asked Joshua as he sighed.

“He’s alive, cracked his skull open. The page was because he was having a seizure. We had to operate again, but he’s alive.”

“That’s good,” you said, running a hand over his shoulder, “that’s really good.”

Joshua nodded before taking a sip of his whiskey, “what about you? I heard you had a pit experience as well?”

“This little girl fell off a three story ladder. Broke the entire left side of her body, we had everything fixed, except her hand. We didn’t notice the debris had nicked a vein. We had to amputate.”

Joshua winced, and turned towards you fully, “that’s always hard.” He watched you, take a sip out of your drink.

“Can we talk about something else?” You asked, as he nodded. You both stayed silent for a moment, you both knew what you were going to talk about.

“You never answered my question earlier,” he smiled, taking your hand in his, “I’m not leaving this bar without an answer.”

“I’d love to be your girlfriend Joshua Hong,” you smiled back before throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

Joe let out a holler and raised his hands, “finally! A round of drinks for everyone!” You broke away from the kiss to laugh at Joe, you won’t turn down a free drink. “To Doctor L/N! For taking this loser off my hands!”

“To Doctor L/N!” Joshua chuckled, raising his glass, “my girlfriend,” he admired you, grabbing you by the shoulders and dipping you into a passionate kiss, almost spilling your drink all over the table.

“Joshua!” You chuckled.

“It’s okay, we’ll just get another FREE drink from Joe,” he winked before kissing you again, earning another bout of holler. After another round of drinks from Joe, Joshua looked at his watch. It was past midnight and you both had work tomorrow. “Do you want to come back to my place baby?”

You nodded, not quite sure what his intentions were, but you weren't’ complaining if he did have any ideas. Joshua called an uber to take you back to his house. You didn’t talk a lot waiting for the taxi or on the drive back, you were too occupied with sucking each other's faces off.

Joshua tipped and rated the uber driver really well.

“Baby,” Joshua moaned, “we both have work in the morning.”

“I know, but I’m horny,” you whined, “do you not want to fuck me?” You asked, tilting your head pushing your bottom lip out in a pout.

“No no no, I never said that. I’m just saying that…” he said, before stopping because you were pressing kisses down his neck. “Alright, but we gotta be quick.” You nodded and started pulling off your shirt as Joshua started pulling his off as well. You took a quick second to look around Joshua’s penthouse. It was a pretty modern bachelor's pad, but before you could look more Joshua was pulling your pants down and grabbing your hand, leading you up a set of stairs to his bedroom.

“Your apartment is so bland,” you joked as Joshua pressed you up against the hallway wall to continue kissing your neck and collarbones.

“I bought it like this,” he said in between kisses, “my mom said that it lacks a woman’s touch.”

“You haven’t touched- ahh, any of it?” You asked, in between another moan.

“NoPE,” he said, popping the p before attaching his lips to a nipple. “I haven’t had any form of girlfriend since college and I always visit my mom, so she’s never been here before.”

“You’re really talking about your mom when I’m basically naked right now?” Joshua let go of your chest to look you in the eye and raise his eyebrow. “I’ll shut up, keep going,” you said, pushing his head back down.

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“Can we call in?” You asked, rolling over in bed and reaching to cup Joshua’s cheek. He had just woken up from your basically all nighter. You in fact did not take work into consideration.

“No, we can not call in because we had too much fun last night. I warned you,” he chuckled sitting up to cup your cheek this time as you pouted.

“I hate that you're right,” you groaned, throwing your head back as he got out of bed. “I should really have some clothes in here if we’re dating now.”

“I’m still not used to that. I’m your boyfriend. You’re my girlfriend. We’re dating,” he smiled, “we had sex while dating.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes as he handed you your underwear

“We did.” Joshua smiled and watched you put on your underwear. “I can’t go to work in these clothes.” Joshua smiled and took your hand, guiding you into his closet. Of course he had a walk in-closet. He did live in a penthouse in seattle.

“I forgot that you’re a rich hot shot doctor,” you both chuckle as he hands you a designer dress shirt. “Do you think this is gonna look weird though? Us showing up together?”

“No, we’re dating babe,” Joshua smiled, “unless you don’t want to tell people yet?” You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted yet. Everything moved fairly quickly.

“I don’t not want to tell people. Why don’t we not tell others, but we can still act like a couple, let people talk about it. That’s what the nurses love,” you suggest. Joshua nods and hands you a pair of shorts.

“I can work with that,” he smiled.

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“Doctor Xu, what’s going on?” You asked, walking into the pit. It was the end of the day, and you were about to go home, when you got the page.

“Broken spinal cord, fell down a flight of stairs,” he said referring to the teenage girl on the gurney. “We gotta get her into surgery for both a spinal cord surgery and to treat her vertigo.”

You nodded and started pushing the gurney down the hall to the elevator, “call Doctor. Jeon, we’re gonna need another neurosurgeon.”

By the time that you got to the OR Wonwoo was already scrubbing up. “Both of us being here isn’t a good sign,” he sighed as you came next to him to start washing your hands.

“I know, but Minghao said that there wasn’t enough time and that we needed to do both at the same time,” he nodded and looked up at the nurses prepping the girl. “Tell me about her?”

“I don’t know much. She’s sixteen and she fell down a cliff due to her vertigo. Landed on her back, cracked her skull, ruined her spinal cord,” you listed, “Minghao said that the chances of her walking, let alone living, are pretty slim.”

“There’s a reason that the best of the best are here though,” he smiled, turning off the tap and pushing the door to the OR open and getting gowned up. Minghao came up and started washing his hands as well, as you sighed and looked at him. He looked nervous, hell, you were nervous.

When you were finished, you gowned up and waited for Minghao, who was only two minutes behind you.

“I’ll start on the spinal cord if you want to work with her vertigo,” Wonwoo nodded, “I have to be able to do this alone. Are you good to work with Doctor. Jeon?”

You nodded and took a sigh. The surgery was called Microvascular Decompression. You were to remove a small piece of bone behind the ear and cut the vestibular nerve, then Minghao would immediately start on repairing the fractured spinal cord. It wasn’t right at the same time, but time in between would be almost nothing. This was the safest way to do it without opening her up for a long amount of time and risking infection.

You all got to work quickly, but that doesn’t mean that the surgery was quick and by the time that it was time for Minghao to take over it was almost the end of your shift. You’ve been in surgery for three hours and haven’t seen Joshua at all today. You were gonna stay over time to make sure that the patient came out alive, but Mingaho had a good five hour surgery ahead of him. This was gonna be a long day and you had started cramping really bad.

Wonwoo had left after his portion of the surgery was done, it was just you and Minghao left to finish, when the monitor started going off.

“What’s happening?” You asked, as Minghao’s eyes widened and he stopped moving.

“She has a dural tear,” he muttered, “shit. The tear is causing an infection, we need to repair the tear.” You nodded and looked towards Rose.

“Let’s get a bone graft!” Rose nodded and before you knew it, you were reconstructing the dura with a bone graft. Thank god for Minghao, who stayed calm during the whole surgery, you however were tired, in pain, and running on very little sleep.

“Doctor L/N?” Minghao asked, as you stepped back from the table and blinked a few times, your vision was going in and out and your head started spinning. “Y/N?”

Before you could respond you stumbled back and hit Jake. He stumbled back a bit but caught you before you could hit the ground. “Shit! Y/N?” Jake yelled, as you groaned and started clutching your stomach.

“My stomach,” you groaned, clutching it, fading in and out of consciousness.

“Call Doctor Kim and Doctor Hong,” Minghao said, looking up from the patient, he couldn’t leave the surgery yet, but he could help from a distance. The other nurses nodded while Jake lied you down on the ground and turned you to your side to make sure you didn’t choke if you did fully pass out. You were still mumbling in-audible words, but they were quick to get a bed outside the OR.

All the sudden you were being lifted bridal style and placed into a hospital bed. You opened your eyes to see Joshua and Mingyu pushing you down the hall. “Joshua?” You groaned.

“We’re taking you up from an ultrasound,” he said, as you were wheeled into the elevator. He took your hand and held it as you winced from the pain. “Can you tell me about your pain?”

“It feels like a cramping pain, but all over my mid section,” you groaned, “plus, I never get cramps.”

“I’ll call Jihyo once we get out,” Mingyu said, as Joshua nodded. There wasn't anything he could do anymore.

“Thanks Gyu,” you gently smiled at him. As soon as you got to the pit, Joshua was able to start up the ultrasound before Jihyo came in.

“Y/N? What’s going on honey?” She asked, putting on a fresh pair of gloves and taking over the ultrasound from Joshua.

“I don’t know, I was in surgery when the pain started and it just kept getting worse,” you said. She nodded and kept moving the probe around until she found what she was looking for.

“That!” She exclaimed, pointing at the screen.

“A cyst?” You asked, as she nodded.

“Looks like quite a few cysts. These weren’t bothering you before?” You shook your head, “there's almost a dozen. Poor girl, no wonder why you were in pain. I’m gonna book you an OR right now and we'll take care of these.”

“Right now?” Joshua asked, as she nodded.

“They’re not causing any damage to your ovaries or anything, but they’re not helping you and you’re in pain,” she explained as Joshua nodded. You were starting to feel a little bit better, since they gave you some painkillers, so you weren’t wincing in pain anymore. “Sit tight and someone will take you up within the hour.”

Once Jihyo was gone it was just Joshua and you.

“I can’t believe no one has caught all the cysts. I get checked up often,” you say, reaching out for Joshua’s hand. He smiled and took it, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Heard you had quite the surgery?” You heard from the door, you looked towards the door to see Jeonghan standing there, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Yeah, almost took out Jake,” you chuckled, pulling your hand from Joshua’s. You didn’t want to rub your relationship in Jeonghan’s face. Joshua cleared his throat and took the flowers from Jeonghan. “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

“They only had one kind in the gift shop,” he chuckled, “I don’t really have much time to talk, but I wanted to see you before your surgery and make sure you’re all okay. You gave everyone quite the scare.”

“Thank you Han,” you smiled, “will you make sure Joshua doesn’t lose his mind when I’m in surgery?” Jeonghan chuckled and nodded before leaving you and Joshua alone again.

“I don’t need him to keep me company,” Joshua scolded.

“I know, but I don’t want you to have any hard feelings towards each other over what happened. I’d never live it down if you stopped being best friends.” Joshua sighed, he wasn’t mad at Jeonghan for flirting with you, and it was true. This wasn’t the first time they both pursued the same woman. Last time Jeonghan won, but he was hoping that he would be the ultimate winner.

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taglist: @asasilentreader , @myjaeyunn, @gaslysainz@itsnotjop @vixensss

A/N: Hello all! I was pondering the idea of Jeonghan's story line, and don't worry, he's still going to be a big part of the story later down the line. It just wasn't his time quite yet. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! There was so many medical procedures I had to look up for this XD

#joshua hong #joshua x y/n #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #greys anatomy #hong's anatomy #joshua angst #hong jisoo #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong smut #joshua x reader

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