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steviewashere · 3 days

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Welcome Home

Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (Not Graphic But Prevalent), Referenced Period Typical Homophobic Slur(s), Referenced Drug Use (Recreational Use of Marijuana) Tags: Post-Canon, Post Vecna, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Wayne Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Wayne Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington has Bad Parents, Coming Out, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Gets a Hug, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Al Munson is a Bad Person

Read the content warning!!

🫂—————🫂 He knows the person he wants isn’t home. But Steve can’t afford to stall any longer. If he continues to wait out in his car, it’ll probably be towed, and he’ll be arrested, and he won’t have the person he needs to bail him out. It’s not like he can just turn the car around, though; make his way back home.

Home doesn’t even exist anymore. It took one night where he thought he was alone, because he was always alone, for them to come back and see him. See him with another boy. Not experimenting, because he knows damn well who he is. But making semblance of love, because he’s been desperate enough for it his entire like. Now that he had it, or something as close to it as he can get from a late night cruising pull, it’s even farther away.

Yeah, maybe he should’ve rain checked. Maybe he should’ve bought out a motel room for the night. Maybe he should’ve just entertained himself with his own hand and the wrinkled magazines that Eddie smuggled for him.

Speaking of Eddie, he’s not here. His government replaced van isn’t parked outside the new Munson’s trailer. Only Wayne’s is. And he’s not sure if he’s ready to face another adult. He is an adult, he knows this, but sitting behind the big wheel of his car—his hands look like they belong to a child and looking at himself in the rearview mirror, it’s like matching gazes with ten year old him; wide-eyed, afraid, and forced against his will.

He is afraid. And maybe he should just let himself feel that. But he doesn’t have the time or the energy or the gall. So he shuts his engine off, hauls an old duffel bag over his shoulder, and makes the arduous journey that is the thirty second walk up the front steps.

Knocking, he swallows his pride. Every part of him is lost and disorganized. He didn’t style his hair. And he couldn’t grab his belt from where it had been kicked under his bed in panic. His shoes are untied. There’s also a large hickey at the base of his neck, unhidden by the stretched collar of some ratty maroon t-shirt he thought he tossed years ago. It’s stark against him in the reflection of the nearest window. He can also catch the dark bruises left on his biceps—grabbed by his dad when he tried to make an initial escape. Maybe he should’ve risked the arrest.

The doors open rather quickly, though. And through the screen, a plume of smoke pools over him from—what smells like—a stale joint. Wayne Munson stands on the other side with tired eyes and a pinched mouth. He’s dressed down in flannel pajamas and has that joint between his fingers. All his movements are slow as he takes Steve in.

“Eddie’s not home right now,” he states instead of offering a greeting. “Is there something I can do you for?” His eyes dip low from Steve’s. Following down the stretch of his neck, where it’s tense and rigid, over that hickey. Pauses momentarily. And then continues to look around, over, down—right up until he notes the bruises on Steve’s arms. “You…Uh…You making a runaway from a bad date, kid?”

Steve swallows. It stings a bit, though not from the hickey. When he closes his eyes to gather his words, he can almost feel the hand around his throat—the wedding ring cold over his wanted bruise, but the red hot spray of spit over his forehead. All as he cowered against his bedroom wall, tense to the floor he stood on, praying that his dad would make it quick.

He’s shaking, he knows. Trembling something minute that, hopefully, Wayne won’t pick up on. “Good evening, Mr. Munson,” Steve greets quietly, voice quaking. “I—I’m sorry to intrude, but I don’t know…There’s nowhere else I can go right now.” He peels his eyes open and peeks up through the screen door. Wayne’s eyes are the size of saucers when they lock stares. He hefts the bag over his shoulder higher, there’s a warm ache through his upper back. Slammed against the wall; remember, he reminds himself.

The screen opens wide and Wayne gestures over to the couch. “Leave your stuff by the door, kid.”

He steps through, plops his bag by the small breakfast nook, and chucks his sneakers to mingle with the pile. Then, he just stands in the doorway. Wayne’s off of his right shoulder. Towering over him a bit, but warm and solid. Steve knows he doesn’t have to be afraid, yet something in him skitters when Wayne’s left hand rests gently on his lower back. “Have a seat,” Wayne murmurs, “you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Acknowledging, without words to say, Steve nods. He shuffles over to the sofa and sits on the farthest cushion on the right, where he tends to settle when he comes over.

“You eat?” Wayne asks.

“No,” Steve mutters, “my dad didn’t give me enough time.”

“You like pepperoni on your pizza?”

Steve nods. “Anything except mushrooms, sir.”

“Wayne,” he says softly over his shoulder, “that’s my name and you wear it out all you like. I ain’t your daddy.” Steve just grunts in response, watching warily as Wayne orders them some food.

When he’s done, Wayne faces him again, leaning against the edge of the dining table. His joint has long since been put out, resting warm in the ashtray on the same table. Steve leans forward on his cushion, hands dropped between his knees. His hair falls limp in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Nothing matters now, does it?

“I’ll only be here a night, promise.” His shoulders hunch inwards. That ache back and persistent. And he knows wherever he sleeps, be it on the floor or the sofa or even in the grass outside, he’ll just wake up hurt. More than just physically. “I know that there really isn’t space for me here and I…I don’t know. I’m not expecting you to take me in just because I get myself in messes.”

For a moment, the room stretches with silence. Going diagonal with the former words.

Then, Wayne takes a deep breath. Shuffles over to a dining chair. And plops down, watching. “You mind telling me what happened?” He asks gruffly, though not pessimistically. “If you’re in trouble, I can only let you stay here a night.”

“Depends on what you view as trouble, Wayne.”

Wayne narrows his eyes, twisting his mouth. His left hand rests on the surface of the table, fingers stretched towards the ashtray and the discarded lighter next to it. “Illegal shit. Anything that gets you in trouble with that Powell bastard. Not including weed. That’d make me a hypocrite, and that’s one thing I ain’t.”

Again, Steve nods his agreement, the acknowledgement. He fidgets with the tips of his fingers. Nails digging into the fatty parts, turning them white with pressure. “I didn’t do anything illegal, swear. Just did something stupid.” Warily once more, he eyes Wayne. “How do you feel about Reagan?”

“That man can rot in hell for all I care.”

He chuckles, despite everything. Then, he takes a sobering breath. “I had a…I picked up a boy tonight. Because I wanted to have—We were going to have sex, to put it simply, Mr. Munson. And I took him to my room, thinking I’d be alone for the rest of the night…”

“And you weren’t,” Wayne states, not asking. What questions need to be asked to an admittance like that? Steve nods, mouth pinched and eyes shiny. “I’m guessing your folks came home.”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers just loud enough to be heard. “I must’ve made a…noise loud enough to be heard downstairs. And my dad had just come home. And he…maybe the boy also made a noise, I don’t know. But one thing came after the other, and the next thing I knew my dad had gripped me on my arms and threw me against the wall and I thought he was going to kill me dead right in my own room and he was spitting about…he called me a-a fag and a fairy and I…

“I didn’t fight back. I didn’t speak. I was so scared. I am scared, Wayne,” Steve admits, voice trembling and his nose burning. “All I could do was take it.”

Carefully, Wayne extracts himself from his seat and situates himself on the coffee table. Right in front of Steve. “Where all did he hurt you, Steve?”

He swallows, remembering. “My arms,” he mutters, pointing, “and my neck and…he dropped me down on the ground and while I was reaching for my shirt, he got me on the ribs.” Narrowly, he misses Wayne’s furious gaze. Instead, he finds a shiny blank spot between mugs on the far wall. “He was so furious he didn’t even take his dress shoes off by the door,” he meekly states, “and he didn’t stop until my mom screamed at him to at least let me grab some of my stuff. She told him it wouldn’t be worth it, and I quote, ‘to murder our son.’ He told her that I wasn’t his, but he let me leave.”

He’ll never thank his mom for that, but at least she granted him grace. Though, she didn’t look pleased either. Her face set and jaw clenched. He knows that if she had the chance, when he wasn’t in earshot, she would’ve said the exact same thing as his dad. Steve withers further at the thought, if that’s even possible.

“I’m just lucky that I’m not dead, right?” He adds a moment later, face wet with tears and throat thick with grief.

Wayne sharply inhales. “You’re safe here,” he says lowly, “just as Eddie is. You’ll forever be safe here, I promise you that.”

Steve’s eyes cut back to him. That ferocity in his gaze like a warm blanket over Steve’s shoulders, something he can cling onto and believe. “You know about him?”

“You’re not the first kid to run here from their daddy,” Wayne utters.

Something in Steve’s stomach twists slowly. His chest crackling with those words. Remembers when Eddie Munson was out of school for a week in eighth grade. When he came back: long sleeves in late May, hair shaved close to his scalp, heavy eyes, and new silver scars over his knuckles.

“I’m not…”

“Eddie would never cut his hair voluntarily,” Wayne states, voice grim.

Steve looks down at his lap, fingers picking nervously at each other. He murmurs, “I’m safe here,” but more of a reminder to himself. He’s not sure if he’s had a promised safety in years. All the stuff with Vecna and the Upside Down and now his dad—which never started with tonight; it had been growing to that, always something small like a slap to the wrist or a dull smack to the back of his head, but his life had never been almost choked out of him. He never feared, just always worried.

God, he always worried. And now here he is, trembling with his tail between his legs.

The silence stretches between them after that. Wayne gets up at some point to pay for the pizza, gather a couple plates, even relight his half-gone joint. And in the time it takes him to sit back down on the sofa with the food, Eddie comes back.

He tumbles through the door, a thousand words spilling out of him, coat hanging off of his elbows, and one shoe already stepped out of. He’s a whirlwind of movement and thing after another after another. But then he spots them on the couch; Wayne eating slowly and Steve curled nervously, face turned away from the door. “Aw man,” Eddie drawls. “Sharing pizza and weed without me? You guys always have all the fun when I’m not here.”

“Ed,” Wayne mutters, “we need to have a conversation, alright?”

Steve peers over, just as Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Did I…Is it something I did?” Eddie murmurs, voice falling meek. “Is everything okay?”

He can’t help but try to hide further. Flinching into himself, eyes closing on their own accord, cheeks flushed, and lips trembling. Tries to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he’s already opened the waterworks once tonight—they’re not going to close up again just from this. He looks to Wayne, eyes pleading for him to explain. He’s so tired of having to digest this, let alone regurgitate it.

“Come sit in my chair, Ed,” Wayne says, gesturing to the brown chair near the window. He waits until Eddie does what he’s told, sitting slowly and looking at them with his too big, concerned eyes. His eyebrows raise, even Steve can make that out through his blurry vision, waiting for some sort of explanation. “Okay, I need you to listen and not ask questions. No interruptions unless I ask you to respond, you got that?”

“Wh—Yeah, Wayne. I’m all ears; you’re freaking me out.”

Wayne nods gently, his left hand out in a placating manner. “You remember, I mean you most definitely do, but do you remember when you had to come here all those years ago?” He asks softly. Eddie acknowledges by nodding, nothing more. “Steve is going through something similar,” he explains gently, “and I’m letting him stay. If you want to know the specifics, that’s something that you’ll have to hear when Steve’s ready, got it?”

Eddie inhales slowly. His face gaining that same furious ferocity that Wayne’s had. But then he looks to Steve and all the hard features of his face soften. Back to something familiar and warm and homely. “Stevie?” He ventures. “You okay?”

He shrugs. Answers thickly, “I don’t know.” His cheeks wet with more tears and he roughly wipes them away with a shaking hand. “I don’t…I thought they loved me? Even just a little bit.”

Warmth crowds him as Wayne lays a firm arm over his upper back, hand wrapping around his right shoulder, just missing his bicep. “Eddie? Why don’t you clean up a bit in your room for his stuff? Get some new sheets on your mattress, too. Think he could use a sleepover, that alright?”

“Course,” Eddie answers almost instantly, voice soft and calm. “I’ll set out some pajamas, too, Stevie. You want a sweatshirt or a t-shirt?”

Steve sniffs and swallows heavily. “Sweatshirt, please.”

Slowly and carefully, Eddie comes over towards the couch. He places a gentle hand on the back of Steve’s head. Thumb running up and down at the base of his skull. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “we’ve got you now, though.” And with that, Eddie retreats to his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind him. The rustle of things being moved around ever apparent through the thin wood.

Wayne clears his throat and pulls Steve in a little closer, tighter. He says close to Steve’s ear, “We love you here, you got that? You have no reason to hide yourself or sneak around or try and fit yourself in a box.”

He nods minutely. “M’kay,” he mutters, “I’ll try and find another place soon, I promise. I just don’t have the money—“

“Nonsense,” Wayne states steadfast, “this is your home now. And I won’t have it any other way.” He pulls back just enough to make them lock eyes again. The air smells of grease and weed and Irish Spring. Amber light flooding around them and dim enough to not hurt his head. Everything around him is soft, gentle. It feels like home. Wayne holds him by the shoulders, firm but not suffocating. “Don’t tell Eddie I said this,” he whispers, “but he doesn’t shut up about you. He’d kill me if I didn’t let you stay and I’d beat myself up about it. As long as you stay true and playful with my boy, then you’re my boy, too. You hear me?”

Steve’s eyes blur again and his nose stings and he wishes that he could stop crying, but this is nice. The warmth and the love and the tenderness. He could burn alive from it and still be grateful. It’s so much better than the lonely, cold sprawl of his parents’ house. A house he never thought he’d leave.

“I hear you,” he musters.

“Good,” Wayne murmurs. “Why don’t you go use up some of the hot water and take as long of a shower as you want? I’ll get your things into Eddie’s room and—don’t tell that Powell bastard at the station—but I’ll roll something for you, if you want it.”

Despite everything, Steve finds himself laughing from his belly and smiling enough to ache his cheeks. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “Warning, though, I’m really annoying when I’m high.”

“Then annoying you’ll be,” Wayne gets out around a chuckle. “And keep smiling, boy. You ain’t got a thing to worry or fear here. Even if your daddy comes running on over, I’ll make him leave just as fast with his tail between his legs, swear it.”

His smile relaxes to something soft, a ghost of a thing. He leans forward and hesitantly wraps his arms around Wayne, relishing in the hug that he gets in return. “Thank you,” he says, muffled into Wayne’s pajama shirt, “think you literally saved my life tonight.”

“You’re a good kid, Steve,” Wayne murmurs, “you’re always welcome in my home.”

He knows he’s crying again, a gentle and silent thing into Wayne’s shoulder. And yet, despite everything, he’s lighter.

Later, he tells Eddie all that happened and is held close, a hand in his hair and fingers tracing over his trembling shoulders. Later, Wayne will make a grand breakfast spread to celebrate new family. And even later, Wayne’ll crack a joke about no funny business while he’s sleeping. But Steve will know, through the tired and playful glint in Wayne’s eyes, he’s all too happy that Steve and Eddie figured themselves out.

For now, though, Wayne hands him a clean, soft towel. It’s dark green and well loved. And he knows, too, that his soul will eventually look just like that. And just like the towel, he soaks it all up. Including the warm, “Welcome home, son,” Wayne says before he closes the bathroom door.

🫂—————🫂

#read the content warning #cw referenced child abuse #stranger things #steve harrington #wayne munson #steve harrington & wayne munson #steddie #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort

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bestiesenpai · 2 days

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sukuna bridgerton au

If you get mad at me for this then you’re no fun, he’s a little ooc in this but im world building! I intend to write more! Mini blurbs/fics and build a whole universe! Gosh! Tried to be accurate to regency era stuff but also took liberty with some things 6k words

Femme reader, you’re a proper young miss aint ya kekw

You are perfect. The Queen's diamond of the season and someone everyone knew by name. There is nothing you have not been prepared for, no social setting that you are unable to make your own. Since you were born your parents had instilled every rule in society onto you, every skill a young lady should have and even some men have as well, to cover every possible avenue.

Perfect indeed, with not only needlework and the pianoforte, but you spoke more than one language and were delightfully decent at drawing. Learning the harp and more advanced bookkeeping skills were on your current roster, the governess keeping not only you but your siblings busy before the beginning of all the balls and suitors calling for your attention.

“(Y/N), there are a great deal of callers outside waiting for your attention.” Your mother debriefed you at the start of the day, after having the maids dress you to her exact specifications. “You remember what I taught you, yes?”

“Yes. Be courteous and make sure to smile, but not too much or they might get the wrong idea. I shouldn’t appear to know too much about one subject, lest they get discouraged from speaking.”

“Perfect.” Snapping her fingers happily, your mother put a hand on your shoulder and sighed, smoothing down the sleeve of your dress. “I am so proud of the person you’ve become, (Y/N). I hope you know that.”

“I do, mother.” Hugging her tightly, you steeled your nerves. She had done the best possible for you your whole life to ensure you would be ready for the society you live in and to hopefully elevate your station in life, one that could afford you even more comfort than you had now.

“Bring the first one in.” Your father announced, ushering the two of you to come to a stand as the doors were opened and the first gentleman of the day came in, a modest but endearing bouquet of flowers in his hands. Making sure to curtsy immediately, you welcomed him in and brought him to the sofas where a proper conversation could be had.

And that went on for ages, one after the other, until you feared your voice would go hoarse from all the talking and fake laughter you had to do. It wasn’t that the men that came to see you were bad in any way, just that you hoped for a bit more excitement upon entering the season. There had yet to be anyone that swept you off your feet, made you wish they stayed just a bit longer and looked at you a bit more.

“Mother, may we stop for today?” You were unable to hold your posture anymore and your back bent considerably, allowing you to relax and look out the window at the sun slowly fading from afternoon to early evening.

“We may. Send the rest away, let them schedule for another time.” Motioning to a footman, your mother conceded to your wishes. “It’s about time for dinner, is it not?”

“Mr. Downey, that old man called upon you?” The next day, a chorus of giggles could be heard in the park from you and your friends. You were recounting all the visitors you had, not sparing a single detail.

“Yes!” You laughed, unable to contain yourself as you strode arm in arm with them around the park lake. “But Father wouldn’t let him step a single toe into the parlor, told him to go down to the alleys he’s usually found in!”

“Oh dear!” Another round of shouts and laughs left the group, boisterous as ever as you all were excited for the upcoming ball at the end of the week being held by the Queen herself. Her royal advisor had seen to it that you were personally handed an invitation at the modiste this morning, letting everyone see the fanfare and the adoration the Queen so had for you.

“(Y/N), you really are Her Majesty’s favorite diamond!” Someone exclaimed, squeezing your hand tightly. “I can’t remember the last time she did something like this!”

“I wonder what it could all mean.” Another girl wonders aloud, making you all come to a stop and think. “I bet there’s some aristocrat in town she wants to impress!”

“Could you imagine!” You jump up slightly, your mind beginning to race. “And me as Her Majesty’s precious diamond at the center…” A flurry of giggles left the group and you began to walk again, chattering excitedly about the future.

The time for the ball came and you were dressed in the finest silks and jewels the modiste had to offer, and a dainty necklace laid on your neck adorned with small diamonds of its own. Butterflies arose in your stomach on the carriage ride over and by the time you arrived you worried about fainting upon standing.

“Stay close.” Your mother tells you, keeping your arm in the crook of hers as you enter the party behind your father, your other siblings behind you as well. Entering the main ballroom, you try not to openly gawk at the grandiosity of it all; there was a large orchestra in the middle of the room, peacocks milling about the garden just outside the open doors and too many servants to count carrying hors d'oeuvres that looked absolutely divine.

“A drink, miss?” One of them approached with a tray of cocktails which you swiftly accepted, eager to fit in with the other patrons. Taking a sip, you were nearly knocked back from the strong bite of alcohol and almost let your composure slip.

“(Y/N).” Your mother squeezed you in warning, never letting the smile slip from her face as her tone conveyed high stress. “Do not mess this up.” And those were her final words to you before you were ushered further into the room.

Quickly righting yourself, you followed your mothers steps in introducing you to everyone and making sure to show you off to eligible bachelors and their families of high titles. Your heart pounded upon meeting earls and marquess’, forcing yourself to not appear too awestruck of a title; appearing perfectly pleased at the information and not showing favor one way or another.

“Time to greet Her Majesty.” Your mother whispered, subtly gesturing to the entourage entering the room and causing quite a stir amongst your fellow partygoers. As she took her seat, you couldn’t help but notice the two empty chairs seated behind the queen and how she looked miffed that one was not being filled upon her arrival.

Milling about so as not to appear too eager, roughly five minutes passed before you made your way over to the queen. The drink you’d been nursing was finally empty and you could feel the burning effects of the alcohol take place, making your face burn and palms sweaty beneath your gloves.

“Your Majesty.” Speaking for the both of you, your mother led you into a curtsy. Standing straight, you let your eyes wander to the chairs, wondering who could be missing from such an event.

“My diamond.” Her Majesty reached out her hand which you instantly took, softly kissing the skin and giving another curtsy.

“Your Majesty.” You responded in kind, giving her a somewhat nervous smile. “This is a beautiful party.” Looking around, you finally let your true feelings show for a moment as you properly soaked it all in. “I am amazed at how you manage to throw such exquisite soirees each season.”

“Oh how you flatter me!” A light chuckle left Her Majesty’s lips and she allowed you to look around a bit more before speaking again. “Tell me, have any suitors caught your eye?”

“Well…” Looking back at your mother, you let out a breathless chuckle. “None have truly captured me, Your Majesty. Some interest me and others vex me, but no one has yet to steal my heart.”

“That is very pleasing.” She grinned, knowing something you did not. “Very pleasing indeed.” Waving over one of her attendants, she whispered something into their ear and off they went as if they had never been there at all. “Take to the floor, my dear, I shall call upon you soon again.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty.” Curtsying again, you and your mother left to go enjoy the party. It wasn’t clear what the Queen had in mind but every time you looked over your shoulder you found her eyes on you and that made you nervous enough to get another drink and not care about the taste.

“Mother, I must use the restroom.” Hardly finished with the glass, you felt an upset in your stomach that couldn’t be ignored. Waiting just enough time for her to excuse you from the group you’d been speaking with, you rushed out of the room and down the hall, thankfully guided by servants to the nearest restroom.

Relieving yourself rather quickly, you were in no hurry to return to the party. This was the first time you were in the palace and your curiosity couldn’t help but get the better of you. Looking over your shoulder a few times, you walked as casually as possible down the hall in the opposite direction. Marveling at the grandeur, you hardly took note of where you were going until a loud thud brought you out of your thoughts. Looking around, you realized you were quite far from the party, the sounds of the orchestra a distant buzz.

“Fuck!” The vulgarity of the word along with its suddenness nearly knocked you to the ground. Grabbing at your necklace, you shuddered at the next few words that came out; this wasn’t proper for a lady to hear at all. Locating the source from an open doorway, you intended on closing it until you caught a glimpse of what was inside.

A completely naked woman was being pinned to a bookshelf by a man with his pants around his thighs, the violent motion of his hips leaving nothing to the imagination. She looked to be in pain, wincing and whining every so often as the man just kept going. He took so little notice of her, in fact, that her head hit the shelves a few times and although she cried out he didn’t falter.

“Fuck!” He yelled again, grabbing the woman's hair and forcing her head to the side. He did finally slow down and straighten up a bit, finally allowing you to see his pink hair. “Fucking whore.” And just like that, the relative slowness was gone and back was this man's brutality. Forcing the woman to walk over to the desk a bit closer to you, you quickly ducked out of the way before you saw something you shouldn’t. It was quiet for a moment and there was a shuffling sound before the door was ripped open further and you couldn't help the shout you let out.

“Who the fuck- oh. Oh?” The man was clearly ready for a fight but upon seeing you, his face changed into a sly smile. He at least had the decency to dress himself, though you kept your eyes trained onto his face and occasionally the ceiling to preserve your modesty. “Well, aren’t you a ravishing creature…come to join the fun?”

“Absolutely not!” Leaping back at his proposition, your face curled in disgust. He laughed loudly, fully taking in your appearance.

“No of course not, why would you? You are a lady, so prim and proper.” He stretched the word out, almost mocking you with the connotation. “You belong at the party, Miss, so run along before someone catches us alone and we’ll be forced to marry.” Raising his hand in goodbye, the man left you, laughter still on his lips as he slammed the door closed.

All but running back to the party, you avoided your mother in favor of going out to the garden with a few friends that were thankfully in attendance; a chance to marvel at the peacocks and performers outside would give you a chance to catch your breath and forget about what you’d just seen.

“Miss (Y/N), the Queen calls for you.” A servant notified you just as the air turned a bit too chilly for your liking. Bidding your friends farewell, you made your way inside. The polite smile on your face dropped immediately at seeing just why the queen summoned you.

“Ah, my diamond.” Her affectionate tone forced the smile right back on your face but your eyes stayed glued to the person behind her. There, dressed in the finest fabrics and with his cravat intricately tied, was the man you’d seen earlier. As he stood at the Queen’s motion, you noticed the freshly pressed pants and shiny boots he had on and the dazzling watch dangling from a chain.

“This is my nephew, you might have heard of him. The Crown Prince, Ryomen Sukuna.” As she spoke, the Queen's voice grew louder, drawing the attention of everyone within earshot and even those that didn’t hear. “I’ve invited him here personally just to meet you.” A small smirk adorned her face as she took in the crowd before her and the stir her words caused. And it grew even bigger upon seeing your face, the horrored expression mistaken for overjoy.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss (Y/N).” Sukuna made a show of bowing deeply to you.

“Come, sit down and chat for a while, won’t you?” Her request was truly a demand and you knew better than to hesitate or question it, so you nodded and did as you were told.

Taking a seat, you kept your body rigid and faced straight ahead, not even giving so much as a glimpse to your side where you could tell the Crown Prince was watching you. You knew it wasn’t proper and that people - your mother especially - were watching to see how you two got on, but you couldn’t bear to turn and have a conversation with the man you’d just seen in such an uncouth position.

“It truly is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Sukuna said, a light chuckle on his lips. “Never thought the beauty I saw earlier would end up being the diamond of the season.”

“I believe you’re mistaken! We did not see each other earlier, Your Highness. This is the first time we are meeting.” Turning your head swiftly, you forced a smile onto your face instead of the scowl you wanted to show him.

“Yes, my mistake! Must have been another fair maiden that caught my eye.” Sukuna chuckled, settling into his chair just a bit more. He let a pause hang between you before he spoke again. “Tell me, diamond, do you wish to marry this season?”

“Of course I do.” You nodded, allowing yourself to relax a little as well. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I made my debut.”

“And what are you looking for in a husband?”

“I want one that is kind, that is loyal to me and whom I can get along with no matter what. And if he likes the arts such as I do, that would be even better.” An answer that you had rehearsed many times with your mother, the words came out of your mouth smoothly.

“Interesting.” Sukuna nodded, folding his hands over each other. “Now, tell me how you really feel.”

“I-I just did.” Quirking a brow at him, you were unsure why Sukuna required more from you on the matter.

“I can tell those aren’t your real words. Tell me how you truly feel.” His face was neutral but not serious or uncomfortable; he seemed to genuinely want an answer from you.

“I…” It took a while but eventually the thoughts you’d suppressed in favor of your mothers came to the surface and you looked down at your gloved hands. “I want someone I can be myself with, someone I won’t need to put on a mask for. And a husband that can value my privacy and give me my own space.” There was more you wanted to say but you stopped yourself; no use in rambling to the man when you could save it for your diary later.

“That’s good to hear, actually.” His response surprised you and had you turning more towards him.

“Really?” There was a tinge of hope growing inside you, one that said maybe the man from earlier wasn’t who he truly was.

“Yes. I’ll need a wife that can leave me the hell alone.” And with that, the tinge died out and your face fell.

“Wh-what?”

“Yes, as you will undoubtedly hear about later I enjoy some rather…unconventional pastimes and leisurely activities and if we are to be wed I’ll take great joy in the fact that you won’t interfere with that.”

“But I-”

“Oh don’t worry, Miss (Y/N), I will give you all the babies you desire if you so wish, but just know my heart will never belong to just one woman. It’s not the way royalty does it, I’m sure you can understand.” Giving you a tight lipped and condescending smile, Sukuna stood from his chair and excused himself, mentioning something about getting the two of you a drink.

“So, what do you think of my nephew?” The Queen asked when he was out of earshot, turning slightly in her chair to look at you.

“He- he is a good conversationalist.” You forced the words out, hoping that the Queen wouldn’t be able to pick up on how your eyes were growing misty despite your best efforts to blink the tears away. “I quite enjoyed some of the ideas he’s shared with me.”

“Wonderful, darling.” There was a tension in the air, like she knew what had happened between the two of you. But she chose not to say anything, instead turning back around as the orchestra played the next song. “Sukuna.” She caught him as he came back, two glasses in hand.

“Yes?” His eyes flicked to you for a moment.

“Dance with Miss (Y/N), will you? I want her to enjoy the party.” The tension in the air was back and Sukuna nodded and swiftly put the glasses down. Standing before you, he offered you his hand.

“Right this way.”

“Of course.” Inhaling sharply, you forced your feelings down and took his hand, letting him lead you to the dance floor. As the song began to start up, you could feel the eyes on you, watching your every move with the Prince and the chemistry you had when dancing.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Sukuna said quietly, his hands resting on your upper back a moment before taking a few steps. “I simply want you to know the truth if you accept the proposal.”

You didn’t respond to him, letting the words soak in. In the moment it had seemed almost cruel that he had spoken to you like that, said those things and dismissed your feelings, hopes and dreams, but thinking about it gave you another perspective. You knew many men in town that had affairs and secret lovers that would never admit it but here was a man that was willing to be honest with you. A man that had no obligation to spare your feelings or protect them.

“Why did you even agree to come then, if that is how you truly feel about marriage?” You finally spoke, looking into his eyes.

“You know as well as I do that we have a responsibility to do this, to get married and play these silly societal games. When my aunt called me I had no choice but to come, you can’t exactly say no to the woman. And I figured why not meet her precious diamond and see what she had to offer, see if I could build the life the world expects of me with her.”

“And what is your verdict?” Sukuna spun you around as you asked and your head laid briefly on his shoulder, catching the scent of his perfume before you were twirled away again.

“I think you’d make a lovely bride, Miss (Y/N). There may be some hardships but I believe we could learn to be happy with each other and our arrangements.” Spinning you a few more times, Sukuna gently helped you to a stop. “I ask you to be aware of what the Queen will ask you soon, what I will be asking you soon. You can always say no.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” As the dance ended, you curtseyed and excused yourself. Slinking away to the refreshments table, you had nary a chance to sip some lemonade before a few more men approached, asking to write in your dance card.

As the night wore on, you danced with many more suitors and eligible young men about town, some that had already called on you and others that were waiting their turn. Some of them were dukes and earls and even a marquess came to you, but none held as high a title as Sukuna did. And with your parents eyes on you, you knew that was what mattered the most.

Going through everyone in your mind, there wasn’t a doubt that some would definitely be better matches for you than Sukuna in the realms of compatibility and chemistry but none would be as wise a choice as he was. Marrying a crown prince of all people would solidify your station in life forever; you and your family would want for nothing and you’d never have to worry about needing to follow the latest trends in fashion because you would be the one setting them.

“His Highness Prince Sukuna surely took a liking to you tonight.” Your mother was alight on the carriage ride home, fanning herself ardently. “Why, I do believe the Queen intends on you to be married before the season is over!”

“From a baroness to a princess, how marvelous that would be!” Unable to stop his excitement either, your father chimed in. It seemed they had already accepted the Prince's proposal on your behalf even though it hadn’t come yet. You didn’t have the heart to tell them that he wasn’t really a good fit for you, that you worried you’d never be truly happy in the marriage and you’d always feel less than when it came to how he felt about you.

“Delightful indeed.” Was what you said instead, allowing your parents to revel in this moment and trying to convince yourself that it couldn’t be that bad to marry a prince, especially if it meant that one day you’d be a queen.

May 14

Diary, I fear that I won’t be able to back out of this arrangement even if I say no to it like Sukuna said I could. If I say no, I know I will have many other suitors knocking at my door but none as prestigious as he is and I can’t bear to possibly face the disappointment of my family if I deny them this great opportunity.

I know I wouldn’t be the first or the last to enter into a marriage like this but I had truly hoped that I could have escaped that fate and found real love, true love! It’s rare but a girl can dream, especially one named as the Queens diamond. You’d think I’d have more time to decide on who to marry!

I suppose I have no choice but to say yes to this, don’t I? Sukuna said he would give me my privacy, so I can at least continue to write here without fear of being judged. I just wonder what the life of a princess will entail and how many new rules will I be forced to learn?

Here's hoping that we can at least grow to have a liking for each other over time, but I know better than to wait around for love.

It was a few days after the ball before you heard word from either Sukuna or the Queen. You knew it was coming but the anxiety of waiting had you pouring too much energy into the other men that called you.

“A visitor for Miss (Y/N) has arrived.” It was announced one afternoon, immediately kicking your heart into overdrive. It was a good thing you had felt the need to dress a little nicer today as your visitor presented himself, none other than the prince.

“Your Highness!” Your mother exclaimed, overjoyed and forcing your siblings to stand as well and greet him. They all bowed or curtseyed, some too young to understand exactly who they were greeting.

“Good day to you all.” Sukuna gave a small bow in return, eyeing up your family before turning to you. “Miss (Y/N), I was hoping we might promenade today around the park? The weather is quite lovely and there are a fair amount of swans out there I’m told.” His offer surprised you, you were sure he was going to ask for your hand right then and there.

“That would be lovely.” You nodded, looking back at your mother who would no doubt chaperone this outing. “Allow me to grab my purse and a shawl.” Excusing yourself, it took no less than five minutes for you to be ready and heading out the house with Sukuna by your side, your entire family not but five feet behind you.

“I’m surprised you called upon me today.” You said upon reaching the park, waving to a few friends who were also on dates. “I was certain that the next time I saw you there would be a ring put upon my finger.”

“Young Miss, please have more faith in me. I thought it only right to court you as the others have, to see if we are truly to be a good match or not.” Sukuna put a hand over his heart in jest.

“Was that your idea or the Queens?”

“I’ll be honest it was her idea, but I have no problem going along with it. It’s only right that we get to know each other a bit more before we are wed.”

“You talk so certainly that I’ll say yes! Who said I wanted to marry you?” His arrogance was starting to annoy you, and the fact that he couldn’t even feign that he was the one interested in learning more about you irritated you to no end.

“Please, would you even think of saying no?” Sukuna quirked a brow at you as you came to a stop to admire a pair of swans. “I am the best match you have to make, one that would elevate your status so highly it would make your head spin. And beside…” He trailed off, looking around at the people in the park. “This sorry lot you associate with aren’t exactly highbrow to begin with.”

“That’s enough!” You shouted, taking a step back from him. A few curious looks were sent your way and you could see your mother start to approach from the corner of your eye before your father stopped her. “Do not dare speak of my friends in such a manner. What would you know of being highbrow anyway, what with the pastimes you partake in!”

“Miss (Y/N), I did not mean to upset you.” Sukuna spoke a little louder for the inquiring minds around you. “Please accept my apology.” And he bowed his head deeply in a show of submission.

“Do not mock me.” You hissed, crossing your arms and turning back to the lake. “I can’t believe I thought you could be a real gentleman.”

“Oh, but I can be.” Resuming his previous position, Sukuna squared his shoulders.

“Only when others are watching though, right?” You began walking again, letting Sukuna fall into step beside you. As a relative quiet fell over you two, you looked at everyone else walking about, seemingly so happy with their matches. A pang of jealousy hit you upon seeing a group of your girl friends out with their matches, laughing happily and getting to enjoy a true love match instead of whatever you were stuck in now.

There was little conversation between the two of you, but to the outside world it looked as if you were just taking a quiet stroll and letting the sounds of nature surround you. Anyone looking in would think that you’re content just being in each other's presence and don’t need words to communicate.

“Let’s stop at a cafe, I’m parched.” You announced, suddenly spotting the building across the street.

“Yes, let's.” Sukuna agreed immediately, following your lead. Opening the door for you and your family, Sukuna made a show of buying everyone something, even your father. With your family scattered about the shop, you and Sukuna took a seat by the window, a place where everyone could walk by and see you together.

“How do you like your parfait?” He asked, sipping on the plain coffee he got himself. Your mother insisted he get a croissant as well and he pulled a piece off and ate it.

“It’s delicious.” With fresh in season fruit throughout, it was a sweet treat you didn’t know you’d been craving. “Thank you.”

“Tell me what it is you like to do for fun.” Leaning back in his chair, Sukuna peered over his glass at you. You felt the urge to correct him on his posture but held back, knowing he would probably just laugh at you.

“I’ve recently taken up the harp and I quite enjoy it, it can be such a calming instrument. I also enjoy the pianoforte, though recently I’ve taken up reading a new book.”

“Reading is quite boring, is it not?” Sukuna smirked at you, enjoying how you fought to keep your expression neutral. “I can’t remember the last time I read.”

“I’m surprised you can read at all.” You rolled your eyes, finding small gratification in how he laughed.

“Me too!” Taking a hearty bite out of his pastry, Sukuna grinned at you, showing the sharp edge of his canines. “I think I’ll like having you as a wife.”

“You shouldn’t be so confident in my acceptance of your proposal, Your Highness.” With a warning tilt to your voice, you took a sip of tea. “I can very well say no to your whole courtship right now and be done with it.”

“But you and I both know you won’t. You wouldn't want to risk the ire of the Queen or your family. And neither would I, Miss (Y/N). I’m tired of being hounded to find a wife and you are the easiest decision ever made for me.”

“You could at least pretend you’re interested in me.” He had a point, you knew little people that went against what the Queen wanted and weren’t shunned for it. There were a great deal of pros outweighing the cons in marrying Sukuna from an economical point of view, but could you find it in you to put your heart aside?

“Trust me, I am plenty interested in you.” His gaze fell downwards and your face immediately started to burn.

“Don’t make me throw my tea on you.” You glared sharply at Sukuna, your tone daring him to continue and for his sake he didn’t and his eyes returned to yours.

“My apologies, Miss. Just admiring a beauty before me.” That statement made a passing few girls giggle and swoon to themselves and you could hardly hold back another eye roll.

Your outing was done shortly after your trip to the cafe with your youngest siblings complaining they were tired. The Prince escorted you home, bowing to you once more and waiting until you were inside before turning and leaving.

“Tell me what that outburst was at the park.” Your mother descended on you the second she got, following you up the stairs to your bedroom.

“The Prince isn’t as fine and dandy as you think he is, he called the ton a bunch of idiots.” You didn’t bother keeping your voice down as you walked, just the thought of what he’d said upset you all over again.

“Why, he is a Prince! Of course we will be simple to him, he is used to so much more!” She argued, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “He meant no harm, I’m sure.”

“Mother.” Turning to face her before opening your door, you sighed upon making eye contact. “I wish I could tell you even half of the things I learned about him…the Prince is not the man you think he is.” You repeated your previous statement; your lip caught between your teeth as you debated telling her more. “I don’t know if I can marry him.” The words made your mother gasp in horror and push a hand over your mouth.

“(Y/N), please tell me you don’t mean it. Please tell me you are just playing a sick joke.” She couldn’t bear to hear you say otherwise. You stared at each other, both of you pleading for different things. The heartbreak in her eyes was evident and she took a step back and composed herself. “V-very well, if that is how you feel I will not force you.”

“Mother…” Your voice trailed off at how downtrodden she looked, it nearly brought you to tears.

“No, please do not say any more. I-I need time to come to terms with this.” Smoothing down her dress, she looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was eavesdropping. The silence allowed for the noises of others in the house to be heard; two brothers fighting over chess, a sister playing the piano. “I will be in the sun room should you need me.”

She left without consequence, calling for a maid to bring her some lavender tea. Finally entering your room, your body pushed the door closed and you sank onto the floor, letting your head fall into your hands. This wasn’t what you wanted to happen in the slightest and now just the prospect of rejecting his proposal was putting immense guilt onto you. Seeing your mother so hurt, imagining the looks on your siblings faces and what your father could possibly say were all too much for you.

May 18

I fear I have made a grave error. It wasn’t my intention to hurt my mother but just the idea of me not marrying a prince was enough to make her beside herself with grief, she was hardly able to look at me during dinner. And I know she’s told father because he was the same way!

Am I really taking away my family’s happiness this much? Am I being selfish by refusing? I think I’m learning now that a marriage, especially this one, is not just between two people. There’s so many others that it affects!

I think I’ll reconsider my rejection - after all, not many can say they were named the diamond and married a crown prince their first season out. I know Sukuna will give me my space if I request and not question me on things…is this potential life worth giving up my hopes of love?

I truly hope it is.

At breakfast the next morning you informed your parents of the change of heart and the sullen mood that was looming over them was washed away in an instance.

“I knew you would come to your senses, girl.” Patting you gently on the shoulder, your father smiled big. “It’s easy to get swept up in nerves during this whole thing but I’m glad you’ve thought about how this marriage will be good for you - for all of us.”

Your siblings were thankfully none the wiser to what had transpired and they begged to be informed. Ignoring them, your mother reached for your hand across the table and squeezed it.

“We must go to the modiste later.”

“What for?” You sent her a curious look, you’d just been there the other day for a fitting!

“For your wedding dress.”

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #bridgerton au #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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mugloversonly · 2 days

Text

What Happens Afterwards?

I read this post by @acowardinmordor and was obsessed with what happened next. Written with their blessing.

also on AO3

tw: overdose, drugs, near death experience, mentions of HIV

Summary:

Famous Eddie doesn't touch drugs...too bad Steve does After Steve ODs at a Corroded Coffin concert, he wakes up in the hospital.

Steve woke up groggy and confused. Is he in a hospital? Suddenly the night rushed back to him. He did a line, borrowed a needle. He’d meant to go back to the dressing room, but he hit the deck before he could. Shit!

He shot up and frantically looked around, hoping beyond all hope that he was alone. Luck was not on his side though, because Eddie was asleep in the hospital chair next to him. Steve took a long look at the love of his life. His eyes were red and puffy with deep bags. His hair was a tangled mess as if he’d been yanking on it. And his clothes were rumpled as if he hadn’t changed them in days.

Steve sighed. He really didn’t want to have this confrontation right now. Before that thought could even leave his brain, Eddie opened his eyes and met Steve’s. The pools of chocolate were filled with a myriad of emotions. He leaned forward and took Steve’s hand.

“Hey, Stevie. How’re you feeling?” He asked softly as he reached over and pressed the nurse call button. Steve was confused by the softness, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“How did I get here?” He asked instead, dropping his gaze.

“You were brought in as a John Doe after the concert baby.” He whispered, his voice thick. “They said you overdosed.” He didn’t sound angry, Steve would have preferred that. Instead he sounded guilty. Steve forced himself to look and felt bile rise up at the expression on Eddie’s face. “I’m sorry baby.” Eddie said. “I’m so sorry.” Tears ran down his already tear coated cheeks. Steve expected yelling, berating, and ultimatum. Anything but an apology.

“Sorry for what, Eds?” He asked. “You didn’t do anything.” That turned out to be the wrong thing to say as it turns Eddie’s cries into sobs. Something sour built a home in Steve’s chest.

“Exactly! I didn’t do anything!” He said emphatically, gesturing wildly. “You were missing! And i didn’t do anything! I let everyone else handle it while i panicked. I still played the show. I didn’t follow my gut and looked who the junkies were that night!” Tears streamed down his face, but the words rattled something in him.

“How long have I been here?” Steve asked hesitantly. Eddie took a stuttered breath.

“Five days. You’ve been here for five days. You were missing for over 24 hours.” He bit his lip trying to stifle more tears.

Steve was floored. Five days?! Wait…missing? “Oh, baby.” Steve said, mournfully running the hand not hooked up to anything along Eddie’s cheek. He melted into the contact and put his hand over Steve’s. “I’m sorry for putting this much stress on you.”

“For a minute there, I’d thought it came back.” Steve knew exactly what Eddie meant. The upside down. “But when I found out you ODed…I almost wish it had.” Eddie admitted. “This is all my fault.” He whispered unable to hold the tears back any longer.

Steve felt like he’d been on top of the world from what he could remember of the high, and he thought about chasing that rabbit. But the look in Eddie’s eyes, the deep well of pure devastation and guilt swirled together, made Steve pause. He couldn’t do this to Eddie again. “This isn’t on you.” Steve insisted. “I told you I quit. You had no reason to assume I’d be in that bathroom.” Eddie just shook his head.

“If I hadn’t forced you on the road, you never would’ve had access to this kind of hardcore shit in the first place. If I spent more time with you, if I never left you alone, you wouldn’t have felt the need to do this.” Eddie trembled. “I should have protected you better, I knew what that shit could do, I’m so sorry baby.” Steve knew then that there wasn’t anything he could say. Eddie would blame himself for this until the end of time.

That more than anything else, broke Steve down. “I’m sorry, love.” His voice trembled. “I shouldn’t have lied. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He flipped his hand up in offer. Eddie immediately filled it with his. He squeezed it as he continued. “You had so much to worry about, I didn’t want to be another. But I should have known that you’d worry anyway.” Steve looked away, ashamed.

“Baby…” he was cut off as a doctor came in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington. You’re lucky to be alive. The cocktail of drugs you took was extreme.” The doctor said.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

“The heroine appeared to be laced with meth. And the line he did was cocaine and ecstasy.” The doctor said calmly. Eddie gasped a shuddering breath and his hands shook in Steve’s grasp.

“I didn’t know the heroine was laced.” He said. “It wasn’t my needle.” The regret was finally showing up. At this the doctor’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Eddie yanked his hands away and covered his mouth.

“I’ll send in a nurse to grab some blood so we can run some tests.” He said. “In the meantime Mr. Munson, I recommend limited physical contact.” He directed that to Eddie with a look of sympathy. He nodded and the doctor took his leave. Tears sprang to Eddie’s eyes and ran down his face.

“You shared needles, Stevie?” He asked in shock, his voice quiet. His fear was clear on his face. “Have you been…doing other things for the drugs?” Steve had to come clean.

“I’d do pretty much anything for them.” He admitted.

Eddie stood up quickly and made to leave the room. “I’m going to go let Robin know you’re awake.” He dashed out before Steve could say anything else.

He fucked up. He always felt guilty after the high wore off, but this time it was horrible. He’s in the hospital, after disappearing for over a day. He should have been more careful. He knew sharing needles wasn’t the best plan, but at the time the high was worth it. But the look of betrayal, sadness, and the tiniest glimmer of disgust on Eddie’s face just now, was enough to make him never want to touch another pill. Sleep snuck up on him and he prayed that Eddie would be back when he woke up again.

His prayer went unanswered. The next time he woke up, it was Robin by his bedside. She was staring at the TV but she wasn’t really watching it. “Hey Robs” he said. She whipped her head around so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if it popped off.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She exclaimed. The smile on her face fell quickly. “You’re an idiot. If you weren’t in this hospital bed right now, I’d smack you.” He shrunk down in the face of her ire. “What were you thinking?!” She shrieked.

“I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” He admitted. The fire in her eyes could set the arctic ablaze.

“Not that bad? Not that bad?! You ODed at Eddie’s concert.” She began counting on her fingers. “You lied about being clean. You shared needles with some random junkies!” On the last point she threw her hands up. “How often have you done that? Don’t lie to me Steve.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Every once in a while when I get the itch for it. Maybe once every few months or so.” He admitted grimly. Robin’s eyes narrowed.

“So however many months you’ve been doing this, you’ve been sharing needles?” She clarified. At Steve’s nod she sprang up and paced the room. “Every time?”

“Not every time, but not rarely either.” He said as guilt started to creep into his stomach. She ran her hands into her hair and yanked on it softly.

“Have you been getting tested at least?” She asked.

“I’m not cheating on Eddie, Robin!” Steve yelled, hurt that she’d even imply that. She stopped pacing and turned to him.

“Okay, first. I didn’t say that. Second, your word has no credibility right now. I know you wouldn’t, dingus. That’s not why I was asking.” She grabbed his hand. Before she could continue, a nurse came in.

“Oh good! You’re awake. I’m going to be taking some blood okay?” She asked but really was demanding. She glared at Steve as he held out his arm for her.

“Is everything okay?” Robin asked. The nurse turned to her and gave a small smile before glaring again at Steve.

“With the patient, everything is looking like it’s returning to normal.” She snapped the tourniquet into place but when Steve flinched she didn’t look remorseful. She drew a few vials of blood, stuck a bandaid on, and pulled off the tourniquet all in silence. As she got cleaned up to leave, she finally spoke. “Look kid, it’s not my place. But that boy out there? I can take a guess as to what your relationship is with him.” She flashed a tiny pride flag pinned inside her scrubs. “He cares about you so much. He was beside himself when he came in and saw you, he had you moved to this room, he asked us if there was any kind of experimental treatment, anything to help you.” She turned that glare on him again. “He loves you to the ends of the earth and he will never leave you. You better clean up your act to be worthy of that devotion, because make no mistake. He would let you drain his veins and apologize for not bleeding out faster.” She stalked over to Robin and handed her a stack of papers. She jabbed a finger in his face, “don’t you dare break up with him in a misguided attempt to save him from you. You clean up your act. If not for yourself, then for him.“ With that she stomped out of the room and practically slammed the door behind her. For a moment neither of them said a word. Steve was filled with regret and Robin was a bit smug. She looked down at the stack of papers. Rehab clinics.

“Should we pick one?” Robin asked.

“I think I want to do it with Eddie.” Steve replied. “The nurse was right. And so were you. I’ve taken him for granted and my word means shit right now. I want to prove to him that I want to get clean.” Robin hesitated.

“Do you?” She asked. “You don’t seem particularly regretful about the actual drugs.” Her tone was soft even though her words were harsh.

“I do!” Steve exclaimed. “You didn’t see the look on Eddie’s face, Robbie. He was devastated and blamed himself for all of it. When I told him I’d do anything for the drugs he got up and left. I don’t think he’s coming back in.” He trailed off into a whisper. Robin took hold of his hand.

“Stevie, he’s right outside.” She said. At Steve’s confused look she continued. “He’s sitting on a bench right next to the door. He wanted to come back in, but I asked him to let me talk to you alone.”

“Why?” Steve asked. Robin’s eyes hardened.

“Because what I’m about to say, he wouldn’t like, but as your best friend I have to tell you hard truths. And Eddie's my best friend too so I have to protect him.” She took a deep breath. “You deserved his love once Steve. I truly believe that. But right now, his love for you is hurting him. And the only one who can fix it? Is you. He hasn’t slept or eaten practically at all since you disappeared.” Steve flinched at the word disappeared. “When he called me he was sobbing so hard I thought you died Steve.” Her eyes watered. “He kept repeating ‘it’s all my fault. I did this to him’ and Jeff had to take the phone to explain what was going on. When I got here, you were still touch and go. You died on the way here, Steve. They had to resuscitate you. The sound he made when the doctors told him that…” she shuddered. “I felt his heart shatter. The nurse is right. He will forgive you and he won’t ever stop loving you and he won’t ever leave you.” Her eyes got intense again. “So you need to promise me. Promise me! That you’ll take care of yourself. Because I don’t think I could survive watching him wither away if you leave him.” The emphasis she put on leave tore Steve apart. She didn’t mean break up with him. She meant leave him. “You don’t deserve his devotion. Not after you lied to him for months. But you have it. So now, you need to cherish it. Got it?” She asked. Steve could only nod as the dam finally broke. They held each other’s hands as they cried together.

~~~

“Can you get Eddie? Please.” He asked after his eyes dried up. Robin nodded and dashed out the door, waving Eddie inside.

Steve’s heart broke at the sight of him. He looked exhausted and his eyes were red rimmed as if he’d been crying for hours. Steve held a hand out to him and Eddie rushed to take it. Steve slid over in the hospital bed, yanking Eddie in after him. He curled around him and held him close being mindful of the wires in his hand as he draped it on Eddie’s chest. Eddie took a deep breath but Steve could feel the anxiety still thrumming under his skin. “I’m sorry, love.” Steve whispered. “I shouldn’t have lied.” He halted when he heard the sniffles. He sat up, peering at Eddie. His cheeks were wet again and Steve reached up to wipe them clean.

“Stevie, I have to ask…” he began. “And I hate to even think it. But…” he paused. “Did you…when you said you’d do anything for the drugs. Did you sleep with people for them?” He finally spit out. Steve wanted to be mad. He wanted to hiss and spit and rage at the accusation. But he knew that wasn’t fair to Eddie. He was within his rights to ask.

“No my love.” Steve promised. “Never.” Eddie nodded and sighed with relief. “I don’t know how much my word is worth right now.” He admitted. Eddie pressed a finger to his lips.

“I trust you.” He said. Those three words broke Steve. How could Eddie trust his word after everything? He asked him as much. Eddie just smiled softly. “I trust you because I want to. That’s all there is to it.”

“I’m sorry for everything.” Steve repeated desperately.

“I forgive you.” Eddie promised. “Now, let’s forget the past for a minute and focus on the future.” Eddie said. Steve looked over his shoulder to the door to the room and saw Robin and the Coffin boys. The boys were glaring at Steve but he knew it was because he hurt their friend.

Steve grabbed the rehab brochures and the two went over them until they found one that had a branch in DC. “I don’t want you to cancel the tour Eddie.” Steve was adamant. He ruined enough of the tour so far and he wouldn’t be the reason it ended. At least in DC he’d be close to Robin who would keep him in line. She promised Eddie daily updates (real updates) once Steve got out until the end of the tour. Eddie finally agreed after the boys convinced him he’d need the distraction so he wouldn’t be pacing around the house all day.

Steve leaned up to kiss him, but Eddie pulled away. The regret in his eyes was almost enough to soothe the hurt. “Not yet Stevie, okay?” He asked. Steve nodded but his head tilted in confusion. “Not until the blood tests come back.” He explained. Suddenly, Steve understood. He put himself at risk and Eddie too. The virus going around was deadly and Steve had been careless. Playing russian roulette with not only his life, but Eddie’s too and by extension the band’s.

The shame that filled him was so intense he reached over and retched into the nearby bed pan. Robin ran over with a trashcan and he kept heaving. Eddie rubbed his back as he emptied his body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…” he cut off by dry heaving. He finally understood why Eddie ran from the room earlier and why the nurse glared at him. He’s a monster. He put the love of his life at risk of contracting a deadly disease just so he could get a fix. What the hell was wrong with him?

When he was finally done, he was exhausted. “Sleep baby.” Eddie whispered. Steve clutched tight to his hand.

“Will you stay with me?” He asked. As his eyes drifted shut.

“Forever.” Eddie whispered as Steve floated off into a dreamless sleep. His last thought was that he needed to prove he was worth forever.

~~~

The next time he woke up, Eddie was still there. Asleep curled up beside him. But in the chair next to him was someone he hoped not to see. Wayne. Their eyes met and he didn’t say anything, he just raised his right eyebrow and Steve folded. He apologized for letting Wayne down, for hurting Eddie, for lying about it. He begged Wayne’s forgiveness, but the man didn’t respond. His gaze flickered to his sleeping nephew and softened.

“You listen to me boy.” Wayne said. “My nephew is a gentle soul, quick to forgive and let things go. You should know that based on how he was after that spring break.” They both shivered at the memory. “So, he’s not going to want to hold you accountable. He’d rather just move on and take your word for it. But lucky for him, and not so lucky for you, I will be holding you accountable.” He leaned in. “I love you like one of my own Steve, I really do. But I love my brother too and he ain’t seen Eddie since they locked him up. Eddie forgave him within days, trusted him. I learned then, that if Eddie loved someone, he’d forgive pretty much everything just to keep them around. So I’ll tell you the same thing I told Al. Eddie is my boy, first. And I will protect him from anything that will hurt him, even if it’s himself. So I’ll be holding you accountable. You’re going to rehab?” Wayne asked. At Steve’s nod and explanation of where, he continued. “You’re going to give the rehab my information as someone who they can talk to. I’m going to call to check up whenever I see fit. Got it?”

“Yes sir” Steve replied. The nurse from before knocked and opened the door quietly. She paused as she saw Eddie curled up in the bed next to Steve. She gently shook him awake.

“Mr. Munson? We have both of your blood tests back.” At this Eddie was wide awake.

“You got some blood tests done Ed?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, just um…just in case you know?” He trailed off not making eye contact with his uncle.

“Good news or bad news first?” She asked.

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie and Steve replied in tandem. They shared a private smile.

“Bad news, Steve you have moderate kidney damage. It won’t take much more to send them into failure.” She said with hard eyes.

“And the good news?” Wayne spoke up.

“Good news, you both are negative for any STDs. Including HIV.” The three men breathed a huge sigh of relief. The nurse turned to Steve. “You got lucky kid. Don’t forget that.” Steve assured her he wouldn’t and she left with a nod. He couldn’t believe he’d been so reckless. He turned to Eddie and was immediately pulled into a soft kiss.

~~~

“They said you’ll be discharged soon.” Robin said later. “Then what?” It was just the two of them.

“Then, Eddie drops me off at rehab and I get help. I stay clean. I do everything to be worthy of him.” He declared. Robin nodded her approval. Eddie came back from the hotel with all of their things packed away in a rental car. He slid into bed next to Steve.

“Hey, baby. You ready?” He asked. Steve nodded and they all left the hospital. The three of them piled into the car and drove Robin to the airport. She was going to fly back to give the boys some time alone. She hugged Steve and then Eddie. She whispered something in the his ear that had him tearing up. She went into the airport with a promise to call Wayne if she ran into any trouble.

Then it was just the two of them. They spent the first hour or so making idle small talk before the curiosity got the best of him. “What did Robin say to you?” He asked.

“Nothing important.” Eddie answered far too quickly.

“Oh, come on. You can tell me.” He knew he was being annoying but he didn’t want to think about what was awaiting him at the end of the ride. Eddie sighed, he never could keep something from Steve.

“She said if I could forgive you, I should forgive myself.” He admitted.

“You still blame yourself, love?” Steve asked. Eddie bit his lip as he nodded.

“If I hadn’t dragged you on tour, you never would have found that stuff.” Steve couldn’t let this stand. He knew he had to finally come clean.

“I was already doing it.” At Eddie’s questioning noise he continued. “As soon as we got to LA, I was looking for it. I did it at those events because it was free from someone else's supply.” He took a breath and glanced at Eddie before he admitted the next bit. “I didn’t get into this shit because I was on tour with you. I wanted to go on tour because I didn’t want to be away from you. That it would be way easier to get my hands on shit, just sweetened the deal.”

Eddie was quiet for a while after that. Steve glanced over and saw his cheeks were wet. He’d made him cry again. “So, you didn’t start them because of me?” He whispered.

“No love. And to be clear, even if I started on tour, it still wouldn’t have been your fault. You didn’t hold me down and force a line up my nose okay?” He reached out and wiped away a tear. “This was my choice. Just like going to rehab is my choice. If I didn’t really want to go, I wouldn’t.” His conviction was clear. Eddie pulled to the side of the road to kiss Steve softly before they drove the rest of the way in comfortable conversation.

They arrived at the rehab center and Eddie walked him inside. He checked in, Eddie handed over his credit card, Steve handed it right back and handed his over. The attendant smiled and swiped Steve’s card giving the boys a moment alone. They held each other close and kissed not caring at the moment who saw them. “I love you, baby. Don't forget okay?” Eddie whispered leaning his forehead to Steve’s.

“I know, love. I love you too. More than life.” He replied. He gave a final kiss to Eddie’s lips and followed the attendant into the center. He was determined to come out a new man.

~~~

Six grueling weeks later, Steve was out. He had a sponsor and group therapy sessions. Waiting to pick him up was Robin. Eddie was on the last few weeks of the tour. They had to extend it a bit to cover for Steve’s hospital stay. Robin gave him a long hug. “Ready to bust out?” She asked and they both got into the car. He lasted barely five minutes.

“How is he?” Steve and Eddie didn’t speak at all during his rehab. The center thought Eddie being on the road would be triggering to Steve. And to be frank, Wayne thought Eddie needed to distance himself from the process for a bit. Wayne and Robin had kept them both informed on the other.

“He’s okay. I mean…he misses you terribly, but he’s been coping on tour.” Robin said. Thankfully the drive wasn’t very long. Steve wanted to be in a familiar place, even if life outside of rehab was scary. They pulled up to Robin’s building and Steve stepped in after her.

There was a loud pop and confetti raining down on him. “Welcome home Steve!” Came several voices he was not expecting. The entire party was here. Wayne, Hopper, and Joyce too. But what brought him to tears was the sight to his left. Eddie was there, holding his arms open. Steve ran into them, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

“I thought your tour didn’t end for a few more weeks?” He asked in between kisses.

“I lied about the end date to surprise you.” He admitted holding Steve close. “Are you surprised?”

“Very! A good surprised!” The two pulled apart so everyone else could greet Steve. Eddie didn’t go far, not letting go of Steve’s hand the entire time. He’d felt better in rehab once the withdrawals subsided. More clear headed, more aware. But he didn’t feel completely healed. Feeling the warmth of Eddie’s hand in his, Steve felt hopeful for the future. As he made eye contact with the man again, Steve silently promised to stay clean. Not for just Eddie. But for himself too.

~~~

He skipped the next tour as recommended by his therapist. The two men decided it would be better if he wasn't alone, so Wayne stayed with him. He'd been retired from the plant and wanted to move out to LA with Eddie anyway.

He and Eddie had a hard time, but they make due with calls and letters. On one memorable occasion Steve sent a racy Polaroid. That night, Eddie called already worked up and they had a wonderful time. The reunion was so sweet. They were locked in their bedroom for days, coming out only for food and water. The rest of their friends knew better than to come visit until the love birds made the first move.

The band wrote a new album and started a nonprofit for drug addicts. It helped those who couldn't afford to get clean and see therapists, providing them with clean needles and clean drugs to help ween off them. Steve didn't shy away from his overdose, or the affect it had on those around him and he encouraged the others not to either. Eddie did several interviews on how helpless he felt when his "best friend" was taken to the hospital as a John Doe. This spurred the nonprofit to add resources for loved ones of addicts too.

Steve had been sober for three years when he went on tour with the band again. For real this time. He got clean and he stayed clean. When he was offered something at a party, he couldn't say he wasn't tempted. But he'd look over to see his love laughing and knew he'd do anything to keep that sound in the world. He never wanted to jeopardize Eddie's happiness again and he finally accepted he was his happiness.

And the next time the band played The Garden, Steve was on the sidelines cheering for Eddie and the band. He made sure Eddie could always see him and know he was safe. That look of guilt and devastation he saw in the hospital never returned to Eddie's face and Steve was determined to keep it that way.

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prim-and-rotten · 1 day

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`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 girls night

pairing: (fem)yandere!bestfriend x reader

summary: during a relaxing sleepover with your best friend, you try to cancel the next in favor of a new guy.

a/n: not sure I like how I ended it but ill post it anyway. a tame one for my first

warnings: implied stalking and murder at the end

Delicate fingers draw random shapes around your back. Jasmine is humming softly to her playlist in the background, a private one, tailor made to suit both of your tastes. It's melodies are blurred and distant, dulled by the heavy blanket of exhaustion enveloping you.

Your nights spent together always come to a close like this. Next to two emptied wine glasses sitting at her bedside table, you're now both laying on the softness of her queen sized bed. Skincare done, another matching set of glossy polish sticking to your nails, dressed in warm matching pjs she bought a few days prior for the occasion, and hair put up in another heatless overnight curl hack you found online.

"Are you falling asleep already?" You can hear the cheeky grin in her voice. The sun is down and the lights are dim, the clock at her bedside table reading 23:36. "It's Friday, sleepyhead... I was hoping we'd stay up a little longer." With a quiet snicker, her hand is now resting flat against your back, and it takes a stupid amount of strength in you to not whine and ask her to keep going. Really, how could she blame you? She always goes out of her way to make you as comfortable as possible and then acts confused when your eyelids start feeling heavy.

"What else did you have planned for tonight?" you stay still, knowing that if you get her talking and focused on something else she'll go back to aimlessly drawing shapes into your back. And she does. "I was thinking we should watch another scary movie." A sigh escapes you. "You always pick the worst, it's gonna keep me up all night." She snickers again, a bit louder this time now that she knows you're not asleep. "Oh no, you'll have to spend more time with me. How terrible!". Her hand is on your arm now. "Come on, you know that's not what I meant." "I know."

A silent beat passes, and her comforting touch almost lulls you back to sleep. Almost.

"Fine. Then before you sleep, let's pick out a recipe for Sunday's dinner. You should come over earlier so we can make it together, it'll be fun. I'm getting tired of takeout." She's playing with your hand now, admiring her work and already thinking of what color she should paint your nails next once they start chipping.

Sunday. You have your sleepovers on Fridays and Sundays. Sometimes when your schedule allows it, you have them on Saturdays too. It's something you've been doing together since high school, and while your schedule now is a little more busy due to school and your part time jobs, you still try to stay consistent with your established routine. You have to pick up your coworkers shift tomorrow, so the next one should be on Sunday. Wait... you changed plans for Sunday. Right, your date. You never told her about that. Shit.

"Actually, I can't do Sunday.." She pauses. "Why? I thought you're free," the dissatisfaction is clear in her tone. You already know how she's going to react once you tell her, but you can't come up with a lie on the spot. So with no choice left, you finally turn to her and hesitantly begin to explain.

"Do you remember Seth from last week?" Her eyebrows furrow. You met Seth after she regrettably left you unattended for a quick trip to the bathroom at the frat party you dragged her to last week, one she really, really did not want to go to. If there's one thing Jas hates, it's sweaty frat boys making moves on her and worst of all you. She couldn't care less about making new girl friends either because she already has you, and in her eyes you're all she really needs.

"No." That's a lie. Yes she remembers, unfortunately so. When she saw you two tucked away at a corner a little too close for comfort, she almost gagged. She walked, no, practically ran to you to drag you away from his filthy hands. What could he possibly have said to you to put that smile on your face? It's not the kind you give to her, it's cute and shy and your cheeks are red and she can't tell if it's the alcohol in your system or him who made them bloom into that pretty color. Seth, whose name honestly rolls off her tongue like shit. Seth, the greasy frat boy with the ugly mug. The one you're somehow actually interested in. Great.

"You don't? I don't remember you drinking that much." Your voice is quieter, like you're trying to tread lightly. Because of course you are, she's doing a pretty terrible job at hiding her disgust, and at this realization she tries to tone it down for your sake. "Yeah I don't, remind me." So you do. Just in case you drop some details about the conversation you had at the party, so she doesn't have to ask outright for all the details and out herself for being obsessive. But you don't add anything new about the party, instead, you tell her you had been texting for just a few days now. He has your number. Yuck.

"You've been texting and you didn't tell me?" She can feel the tension in the room now, the same room that was previously occupied by nothing but warmth and comfort. She's trying to backtrack now, putting away the face of slight disgust she had put up and replacing it with a smile of disbelief at an attempt at making you feel less guilty. She knows why you wouldn't tell her right away, this isn't the first time she's reacted to this kind of thing negatively. This is not a habit she wants you to form, so she needs to do some damage control. To make you feel comfortable with talking about your love life again. How is she supposed to protect you from these greaseballs if she doesn't know you're speaking to them in the first place?

So she brings back the playfulness that was there before. She's playing with your hand again to put you at ease, so that you hopefully start rambling about him, and luckily you do.

He approached you at the party and you found him funny so you exchanged numbers. You've been texting back and forth for the past 4 days. You think he's cute and charming. He asked you out 2 days ago, and your schedules only allowed for the date to happen on Sunday. You're really looking forward to it. How unfortunate.

"Isn't it a bit early? I don't really trust him." You let out a chuckle at that, "I could count the amount of people you trust in one hand." Touché. "I'm just looking out for you." You sigh. "I know, but you don't have to. I can handle it." She raises an eyebrow at that, and you know exactly what she's about to say. "Don't forget who was left picking up the pieces every time you got stood up. I don't mean to be a dick by bringing it up but I'm the one who's left having to take care of you, and I hate seeing you cry over the same breed of asshole over and over again." There's another beat of silence.

Shes right of course, so you can't really come up with another rebuttal. "You know where to go if something happens," and you do. Every last date you've gone to ended with you spending the night at her place, the one place you feel comfortable going to for anything, with puffy eyes, a box of tissues and a big headache. The conversation ends here.

It's silent again, and all you can hear is the music playing and the air conditioner whirring. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, you've turned to your side and Jasmine continues to play with your back until she hears the telltale sign of light snoring. She can't join you just yet, not until she's done with her research.

Not until she knows his schedule and has a plan laid out. The guilt of being the sole reason you keep getting stood up does eat at her at times like these, because she knows it makes you insecure. What else are you supposed to think? But it's okay, because at the end of the day it's always her you come back to, and she's pretty damn good at bringing your confidence back up if she does say so herself. It's her you seek out for comfort, and if she can't have you for herself, she'll do anything to keep it that way.

#my oc jasmine #yandere x reader #yandere best friend x reader #fem yandere #fem!yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere

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seenoversundown · 1 day

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For Death Or Glory : Chapter Six

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: It's still Sad hours folks, Mentions of Grief, Mild Anxiety, Some Self Deprecation / Negative Self Talk, AND THEN some Fluff, Cute Banter, Dry Humor, and the biggest warning of all: Pirate Facts (don't forget who we're talking to here)

Word Count : 3.5k

Summary : Charlotte is still processing the prior day's events and struggling to deal with her grief coupled with the fact she let a "stranger" see her upset. Unfortunately, things have to get worse before they get better, but she is well on her way to better.

Author's Note: HEHE ANOTHER ONE. Okay really though, I know we've been having sad chapters and I want you to get to good stuff so I figured since this is the last sad chapter for a bit AND she's a little shorter than the next handful, I may as well let you have her early. We start off a bit rough, but it only gets better as you read! PROMISE.

Honest - Joseph "There's always two thoughts, One after the other, I'm alone, No, you're not."

I’ve been sitting in bed since I got home last night, recounting everything. A full-blown meltdown, Charlotte? You really couldn’t choke it back for a little longer? I have never been good at letting people in. I tend to keep everybody at arms’ reach, which is why I now have… basically, no friends.

I don’t know how I got here; that’s a lie. I am too intense. I work too much. I care too much about my work. I could stand to relax a little more. Okay, let’s not talk ourselves into a spiral now; it’s too early in the morning.

It’s 7 a.m., and I’ve barely slept. I force myself out of bed. I just need coffee. Stretching as I walk into my kitchen, I set up my coffee pot and lean against the counter, rubbing my eyes to rid the sleep left on them. He was so sweet about it, too. He didn’t even hesitate. Taking a deep breath , I shake my head as if that would get rid of the thoughts.

I pour some coffee into my favorite mug, take the first sip, and feel the warmth go through my body. ‘Oh, Honey’ rings in my head. Does he just give everybody pet names? Finding myself on my couch, my laptop sitting next to me, taunting me with the option to work. I know I should take the day off with how little sleep I got, but I would also rather stay busy.

I could just check my emails.

Maybe I’ll just work for a few hours.

It couldn’t hurt to just clock in.

I’m pushing open my laptop, frustrated because I know I’ve lost the battle with myself again. I immediately pull up my emails, seeing a handful from the last few days that I haven’t answered.

It’s a lot of easy work, which is good because, well, I shouldn’t be working right now. I spend a while replying to everything in my inbox, including an email to my boss. I sip my coffee between emails, trying to stay focused on work but finding my mind wandering.

I would have been fine if he didn’t acknowledge that I looked sad. I could have gotten through that situation so much better. Why did he have to notice? I pause my thoughts, realizing how insensitive they seem. You’re grieving, Charlotte. Jesus Christ, give yourself some grace. You’re GOING to be sad. He was just good at handling that. I still can’t wrap my head around how quickly he reacted. Most men I’ve met probably wouldn’t have even realized something was wrong, let alone make sure I could privately have a moment.

My throat starts to tighten again, and my chest feels heavy; I wish I could tell her about this. She would have been so shocked to hear that I let someone help me. My eyes start to get blurry. Oh, not again. I sit there, letting the tears fall down my face.

“Fuck,” I mutter to my empty apartment.

I rub my eyes, probably harder than I should, before making a second cup of coffee. Breathing shakily as I pour, text him. No. You need a friend, Charlotte. I don’t even know him, aside from his business. He said to let him know if you need anything, and you do kind of need something right now. I do not, I’m fine. Then why are you still crying?

Sitting on my couch, I grab my phone and pull up his messages. Just text him.

I struggle to type anything out for a moment, wiping my face a few times before finally settling on something simple.

Charlotte: hi goodmorning

I lock my screen quickly, setting my phone next to me, face down. Why did I do that? It’ll be fine. Just let him respond.

Back to work, I open an email from my boss;

‘Charlotte, Why are you working today? I thought you took the day off? Regardless, how did everything go in Portland? Did you get the paperwork handled with Caravel Tavern? I’m hoping for your sake that the owner was pleasant and just filled it out for you. It’s an unfortunate situation that you had to go there, but much appreciated that you were able to stop by and get that taken care of.’

My boss and I have been working together for a while, so I’d like to think that he isn’t being disingenuous with that email, but the fact he knows the ultimate reason I went to Portland and only seemingly touched on the work part is making my stomach hurt. Does everybody think that I’m emotionless? I went there to mourn my friend, and he was worried about how my work went. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. This time, I don’t fight them. Setting my laptop to the side, I take a few sips of coffee, wiping my eyes in between.

My phone vibrates beneath my leg. Is it.. Grabbing it nervously, I flip it over, letting the screen turn on. There, his name sits on my lock screen.

Jacob: Well goodmorning, how are you feeling?

Not great. My stomach turns reading the question over and over. Why does he care?

Charlotte: I’ve been better, honestly. How are you?

Why did you say that? He literally saw me cry yesterday. I think he’d be more shocked if I said I was feeling great.

Jacob: oh i’m sorry, can I do anything to help?

No. Just tell him you need a friend, especially right now. We have worked together, I can’t do that. I’m above him, technically. Charlotte, chill out. You’re not co-workers. You can be friends with him.

Charlotte: I don’t know. I’m just having a rough morning and I didn’t know who else to text.

You don’t have anybody you would text anyway. This happens when you don’t keep in touch with your friends.

Jacob: Do you want to talk about whats wrong or I can just try to distract you?

He’s so.. Don’t tell him.

Charlotte: I think a distraction is needed

I’m immediately curious how he’s going to be distracting through text. He’s distracting enough in person. Charlotte. I’m sorry, but it’s no secret.

Jacob: In that case, how much do you know about the golden age of piracy?

Charlotte: lol I do actually know a little bit, but go on.

Jacob: Do you?? Well then, my personal favorites are Anne Bonny and Blackbeard is an obvious choice but.. I dont even care haha hes great.

A smile crept onto my face when I read his reply. Why is it so wholesome that one of his favorites is a woman pirate? He’s probably just saying it.

Charlotte: You like Anne Bonny?

It’s marked as read immediately, and the typing bubbles pop up almost instantly.

Jacob: She was incredible! And she never was found?? That’s insane. You have to respect it.

Charlotte: She really was incredible. I know a little about Blackbeard but, you can tell me about him.

Charlotte: If you want obviously, you don’t have to.

Phone in hand, I walk into my bathroom and turn the shower on before facing the mirror. My eyes are puffy, and my hair is everywhere. God, Charlotte, get it together, girl. I set my phone on the counter, leaning in to look at myself closer. Seeing how dark my under eyes are and how irritated my waterline is from rubbing at them. I look down at the counter, feeling the tears coming back. Softly shutting my eyes to force the tears out.

“For the love of god,” I whisper to myself.

Undressing myself and stepping into the shower, I stand with my face in the water. Feeling the warmth surrounding me, it feels safe. Once the water has completely soaked my hair, I sit on the tub floor, holding my knees close to me, letting the hot water beat against my back. You’re allowed to be sad, Charlotte. Tears freely fall down my face. I hate this.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Carefully squeezing the water out of my hair and clipping it out of my way, I pull on a comfortable sweatshirt and leggings. I quickly rub some moisturizer into my face, grab my phone, and head back to the couch. I sink back into my spot, pull my throw blanket back over me, and slouch down into the corner.

I pull my phone out and see a handful of texts from Jacob sitting there.

Jacob: Welllll.. Supposedly his actual name was Edward Teach .. or Thatch.. Nobody really has confirmation because Pirates didn’t always use their real surnames to not spoil the family name.

Jacob: He obviously was the owner of Queen Anne’s Revenge, but it was originally a French Slave ship named La Concorde that he managed to capture.

Jacob: When he died, they beheaded him and put his head on a STAKE at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay!

Jacob: Are you okay? Is this annoying?

Why do I want to cry? Well, nobody else is checking on you.

Charlotte: No, you’re not annoying me. I showered, I should have let you know. I’m sorry.

Rubbing my eyes until I see TV static and taking long breaths seem to be the only thing calming me down. Nobody taught me how to handle waves of grief. My stomach turns at the thought.

Jacob: dont be sorry, its okay.

Charlotte: Are you actually working right now.. by any chance?

What are you doing? I don’t want to be alone right now.

Letting out a deep breath, trying to unclench my jaw, it’s hard to relax.

Jacob: I don’t have to be.

My hands tremble as I click on his name and promptly click on the ‘call’ button. Please pick up.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “what’s going on?”

“Hi,” I whisper. My throat immediately gets tight, and my lips shake.” Um,” I say, taking another long breath.

“Oh,” he whispers, “hang on.” I can hear the music from the bar slowly fade before the click of the door shut.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I whimper softly, “I can’t stop crying, and I’m nauseous, and I just don’t want to feel alone.”

Oh, that was a lot.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” his voice is calm. “I’ll stay on the phone with you; just take a little breath for me, okay?”

In through your nose, out through the mouth.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to, but I hate that you’re so upset,” his voice getting a bit softer.

“I don’t think I can say it out loud yet,” I confess, “It’s just- I’m sorry, it’s too much, and I-”

My breathing picks up again, and I can feel my heart pounding. This was a good idea, wasn’t it?

“Honey, it’s okay,” he says, there’s that name again. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. We can talk about anything else.”

Breathe Charlotte. Closing my eyes, more tears fall, but my breathing slows.

“What have you done today?” he asks.

“Um, I took a shower and answered some emails,” my voice still struggling to stabilize.

“You were working?”

“I thought it would help distract me, but it sort of made everything worse,” I said, sounding defeated.

His soft laugh is almost enough to make me smile, “Have you eaten today?” he continues the light interrogation.

“No, I’ve only had coffee,” I tell him.

“Why don’t you make yourself something to eat?” His tone is still very calm; he really is good at this, “Maybe sleep a little if you can.”

He’s right. I probably should eat something, at least.

“I definitely feel like I could use a nap,” I let out a sad giggle, wiping my eyes for the millionth time.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you for a little bit?”

My chest feels weird when he asks that.

“If you don’t mind..” my voice was small, not wanting to be a pain.

“I don’t mind one bit.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I stroll into my kitchen, open the cabinets, and stare into them.

“What should I eat?” I question out loud.

“Food is probably your best bet,” he answers dryly, and I swear I can hear the smirk on his face.

“Incredibly helpful, thank you.”

His giggle rings through my ears, and I can feel the tug on the corners of my mouth. His laugh is cute. Reaching into the cabinet and pulling out my bag of pretzel crisps.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Just some pretzels,” I mumble, knowing it’s not much. But I’m also not starving.

“Lunch of Olympians, Charlotte.”

This time, it’s my laugh radiating through the phone. Oh. I bring my hand up to cover my mouth once I realize it.

“That might be the first time I’ve done anything other than cry today.”

“Happy to help, m’lady.”

I giggle at the mild English accent that snuck out, “I think if you learn much more, you’re gonna become a pirate.”

“That isn’t a threat to me like you probably think it is,” he says.

“Have to start calling you Captain Jake Sparrow,”

He clears his throat before letting out a weak “Yeah,” followed by an uncomfortable laugh.

“Um, so,” he starts, “what’s something that you enjoy too much? Since you’re so graciously laughing about mine.”

Working. You like other things, Charlotte. But working is the most satisfying. Baking.. Reading.. Hello?

“I read a lot,” I blurt out, realizing I was in my head, “and I like to bake.” My hand covers my face as I tell him because I definitely sounded like I just pulled it out of my ass.

“Oh! I read a fair bit myself; what are you reading?”

Fuck. Yeah, go ahead and tell him what you read.

I scan the book on my coffee table; it’s just another contemporary romance novel. I like to alternate more non-fiction things with some romance because I’m not a robot. I have a soft spot for sweet stories. Something about effortlessly falling in love or watching two characters pine over each other for a good majority of the book before allowing themselves to act on it.

“Uhhh…” I stammer over myself. “I don’t know if you’d know it.” I can feel the heat rise into my cheeks as he breathes through the phone, waiting for me to elaborate. Slumping down into the corner of the couch.

“What genre?”

“It’s uh.. a contemporary romance..” I whisper quickly. Look, there’s nothing wrong with romance novels, but with how I have learned to present myself while I’m working, it feels a bit silly to admit.

“Ooohhhhh,” he taunts. “Are you secretly a little hopeless romantic, Red?”

“I am just a girl, Jacob. You asked the question.” I giggle at the nickname and the fact he’s calling me out so quickly. Scooting myself down further, so I’m practically lying down.

“Alright, alright, fair enough,” he laughs, “I read a lot of historical things, as you can imagine. So, consider me boring.”

“You are far from boring,” I tell him, not meaning to have it come off like it probably did.

“I think my brothers would beg to differ,” he sighs.

“I’m almost positive that’s just a sibling thing that they’re required to do,” I readjust my arm underneath my pillow, switching my phone to speaker and setting it next to me, “But also, maybe I just don’t think pirates are boring. Who’s to say?”

“Hey Jake, can I bother you?” I hear faintly in the background, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Hang on for a second?” he asks quietly.

“I’ll be here.”

I close my eyes, just listening to the random sounds that pick up from his phone. God, I’m so tired. A yawn sneaks up on me, releasing a deep breath, and I can feel my body relax even more. I can feel my breathing change a bit, and my head feels heavier as I lie here.

“Hi, I’m sorry,” he says. A small “oop” falling from my lips involuntarily.

“Did I scare you?” he whispers this time.

“A little,” I mumble, my eyes still sewn shut, “I think I fell asleep.”

“Get some rest,” I swear I can hear the smile on his face, “we can talk later.”

All I manage is an ‘mhm’ before I feel myself drifting back into my slumber.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

My phone vibrates against my face, jolting me from my nap. Holy shit. Swiping away the unknown caller, tucking my arms back into my blanket, and closing my eyes. I don’t want to be awake yet. Deciding to lay there for a few more minutes before becoming a human again.

Finally, I caved and opened my phone. Jacob’s messages were still pulled up, but I noticed new ones sitting at the bottom.

Jacob: i hope you feel a little better when you wake up. It was really nice getting to talk to you. I mostly talk to my brothers at this point so it was refreshing

Jacob: not the you being sad part, just the rest of it obviously

I audibly laugh at the second text. He’s so uncomfortable.

I scroll through our messages for a moment with a small smile. You’ve been grinning at these messages… Well, he is charming. I mean, he basically talked you down until you were relaxed enough to sleep. I can still hear his voice in my head, ‘Take a breath for me.’ The way he looked at me as he wiped the tears from my face, I don’t know what happened at that moment. I hear Cass in my head, “Stop thinking yourself out of happiness.”

I set my phone down, quickly sat up, and grabbed my laptop from my coffee table. I opened it, pulled up my emails again, and scrolled for the email from my boss. Hitting reply, I quickly start typing;

‘Good evening, Actually,- I may need to work remotely. After spending a few days checking in, it seems like some assistance may be required-’

Actually what? My hands are typing faster than I can coherently think, but it’s not entirely a lie; he does seem like he needs a little bit of help getting things in order, and with having to train Melody and get her certified, he’s going to be juggling a lot of things.

‘I believe that Mr. Kiszka-’

I giggle to myself, fully able to hear him from the first day I walked in saying, ‘Mr. Kiszka is my father.’

‘-has the capabilities to succeed, but he is still fairly new at this and is just trying to get caught up. He also has a new hire that he will be getting certified, and I will be assisting him with that process to ensure everything goes smoothly.’

Charlotte, you’re still emotional. Maybe you should just hold off on sending this. What do you mean by ‘you will be assisting him’? He’s fine! The words are flowing out from my fingertips, and I’m choosing to ignore the voices in my head this time. Okay, wow.

‘That said, I’ll be located within 30 minutes of Portland. If there are any other businesses you’d like me to check on while I’m there, please let me know. Have a great weekend, Charlotte Rhodes’

I hit send with no second thought.

Okay, so that was a dumb choice. You were much more assertive than you usually are, and that isn’t going to fair well. You weren’t that bad, but not giving an option for working remotely was definitely a choice.

Shutting my laptop abruptly and setting it back on the coffee table, my heart is racing. Never done that before. Typically, I’m not someone who acts on emotions, but for some reason, today is different.

Charlotte: I knew what you meant, lol. I feel much more educated on pirates now.

Jacob: oh i have so much more i could tell you

Charlotte: Well, I’m done working so.. I have time.

Staring at our texts, I don’t know what I’m doing. My hands timidly scroll up, rereading our conversation. Why do I feel nervous? Noting that he’s been nothing but nice and helpful, my phone gently vibrates and automatically scrolls to the bottom as he replies.

Jacob: be careful what you wish for dear

Charlotte: I’m already on board, it’s too late.

I sink into the couch again, wondering if this is a mistake. I did kind of make an irrational decision.. Mmm… feels silly now, doesn’t it? But immediately remembering that, I promised my best friend that I would live a little. ‘It’s just a job, babe,’ plays in my head, and she’s right. It is just a job, and I’m still going to do my job, but from Portland. Where we can talk to this nice boy, who seems like he’s just happy to have someone to talk to. But you also need to not lose your job for a-

Jacob: I hope you already have your sea legs then

Jacob: there were a million pirates in that era so we have a lot to go over

The nerves are nowhere to be seen, swallowed by my quiet laughter as I read his texts. I can only imagine how excited he probably is to talk to someone about this who isn’t going to groan or fake sleep during it. I will gladly take any distraction I can get tonight. The nice voice in my brain is just telling me, maybe we could be friends.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Five

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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hugz4hoon · 1 day

Text

stargazing (pt.2) - s.j.y.

read part one here!

summary — you finally come to the conclusion that you need to get over your one sided feelings.

pairing — best friend!jake x fem!reader

genre — fluff and angst

wc — 2.3k

a/n — she's here! it ended up taking longer than i thought because i absolutely hated my first draft LOL so i completely scratched it and restarted it with a new plot hehe but i really hope u guys like this one!!!

It’s been two weeks since you last spoke with Jake. The last time you saw him was when he left you, heartbroken on your rooftop. Since then, Jake has regretted not telling you how he feels that night. The only reason he hasn’t called or texted you is because he’s embarrassed about how he acted, and he doesn’t know what to say to you. Meanwhile, you’ve been forcing yourself to get over him by distracting yourself everyday. It’s obvious he’s been avoiding you; it’s definitely time to move on.

You were at the mall with your friends when you saw Jake walking in your direction. It was a bit nerve wracking—you haven’t seen him for two weeks, and suddenly, you didn’t know how to act around him anymore. But, that didn’t seem to be a problem, because when you made eye contact with him, his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. The second Jake saw you, he immediately turned to walk in the opposite direction. And that’s when you saw who he was with… a girl that you’ve never seen before? You watched their backs as they left your eyeline.

Your heart ached with a newfound heaviness. You felt as if your whole world was crumbling down. Who was that? Does he hate me so much that he can’t even look at me? Did he really find a new best friend in the span of two weeks? Or even, a girlfriend? Your mind was going haywire, and your distress definitely showed on your face.

One of your friend’s voices snapped you out of your daze.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little tired right now. I think I should head home,” you half heartedly smiled at them. You had to get out of there. If you stayed in the busy environment for any longer, you’re sure you would’ve passed out. Shrugging off your friends’ demands and questions asking whether you wanted company, you called a taxi and headed home.

As soon as you got home, you took a hot shower to collect your thoughts. You didn’t want to be heartbroken over Jake because that would ruin all the progress you’ve made in getting over him. Instead, you decided to take a nap to try to sleep it off.

When you woke up, it was 6pm; you ended up sleeping for around three hours. You wake up to the vibrations erupting from your phone. Before you could see who was calling, the call ended. That’s when you saw the many missed calls adorning your notification center. There are over a dozen missed calls from… Jake? You keep scrolling to find Jake’s text messages to you from two hours ago.

jakey <3: can we talk

jakey <3: i shouldn’t have walked away from u

jakey <3: i miss u

Now you're pissed. Saying he misses you right after ignoring you for two weeks, and walking away from you without so much as a quick hello at the mall, is confusing as hell. Not only is it confusing, but it’s also rage inducing. With anger clouding your mind, you sharply respond to his messages instead of calling him back.

y/n: that’s so stupid

y/n: you say all that but your actions say otherwise

He calls you immediately the second you text him back, but you cannot be bothered to pick up.

[missed call from “jakey <3”]

jakey <3: pick up ur phone y/n

y/n: no. i don’t wanna hear it jake

y/n: i’m done

jakey <3: done? what do u mean by that

jakey <3: y/n please just call me we need to talk

jakey <3: y/n

At this point, you’re so annoyed with him that everything he says pisses you off. You stop responding when you start to feel as if steam is blowing out of your ears, before your head pops off due to built up pressure. As you start to distract yourself by doom scrolling through social media, you get another notification from Jake.

jakey <3: open ur door

Sure enough, he’s at your house now. You ignore the message and continue scrolling, hoping that after a couple of minutes, he’ll leave. About five minutes pass by, when you hear a tap on your window. You jump at the noise, and your gaze immediately turns to where the sound came from. There on the tree branch sits Jake, in all his boyish charm, as he sports that damn quirky and apologetic smile again. Unfortunately for him, this is the first time it doesn’t work in his favour. Honestly, you still don’t want to let him in, but it’s a particularly windy day, and despite your anger, you don’t want him to hurt himself.

With a stern expression plastered on your face, you unlock the window and turn right back to your bed. He watches with sorrowful eyes as you sit on your bed, realizing in his haste to see you, he forgot to prepare an apology.

He hesitantly pulls open the window and enters your room. After closing the window, he awkwardly stands there as he thinks of how to approach the situation. You, on the other hand, are staring daggers into his eyes.

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” Jake flinches at the clear irritation in your tone. This is the first time you’ve ever been mad at him, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. He hates it. He hates that he’s the reason behind your disdain. All he wants is to see your beautiful smile again.

He shuffles his feet clumsily as he searches for the right words. “I’m here to atone.” He announces with an uncertain voice. Hm, maybe that wasn’t the way to start off, he thinks as he sees your face change into an expression of disconcert.

Your jaw falls open at his statement. What kind of stupid opening is that? “Jake, if you're not going to be serious, I don’t want to hear it,” you firmly state, while getting up to leave your room.

“No, wait, let me finish!” he spews out before you can leave, which gets you to stop in your tracks. “Sorry, I know that wasn’t the best thing to say, but it’s because I don’t know how to address this,” he mumbles.

“Why? I don’t understand, Jake. We used to be able to talk about anything. You used to tell me everything, what happened? I feel like I’m going insane right now.” Your eyes start to water from the vulnerability you’re showing him.

Jake’s eyes soften after hearing your words. He never meant to make you feel this way, in fact, this is the opposite of what he wanted. The reason he didn’t reach out to you was because he was terrified. Terrified of ruining the friendship you two had built over the years. Jake had spent countless nights thinking about you, replaying moments in his mind, and imagining what could be. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he was paralyzed by the fear of your rejection.

What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if confessing his feelings meant losing you forever?

Jake walks over to you and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him, his expression filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. His eyes gaze down at your teary ones as he starts to speak in the most serious tone you’ve ever heard from him. “Y/N, the last thing I wanted to do was confuse you.”

“Well, you are confusing me!” Although you want to hear him out, you can’t help but be angry while thinking about his previous immature actions. One thought in particular crosses your mind. “Who was she?” You whisper as you break eye contact with him, prepared for the worst.

Jake takes a deep breath, knowing he needs to explain everything to you. “The girl you saw me with at the mall,” he begins, his voice steadying, “she's not what you think.”

You raise an eyebrow, still feeling a twinge of uncertainty. "Then who is she?"

"She's a friend from one of my classes.” Jake explains, running a hand through his hair. She asked for help with a project she's working on, and we decided to grab some coffee and discuss it. That’s all it was. I promise."

You feel a wave of relief, but there’s still a lingering doubt. “Why did you walk away when you saw me?”

Jake sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “When I saw you, I freaked out. I didn’t know how to face you after everything. I thought you might think she was someone important to me, and I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had. But running away just made things worse.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "You could have just told me, Jake. I spent these two weeks thinking you hated me or something."

Jake's face softens even more, his eyes pleading. “I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted you to feel that way. To be honest, I was just really scared of losing you. But I've realized that keeping my feelings from you was the worst thing I could have done.”

Your heart races at his words, relief and apprehension filling your chest. "And what are those feelings, Jake? What have you been so afraid to tell me?"

Jake takes a breath, finally ready to tell you what he’s wanted to say for years. It’s now or never. “Y/N, I’m in love with you, and I have been for years. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t know how you would react, and the last thing I wanted was to lose you.” His heart races as the precious words fall from his lips.

You gasp at his sudden confession. You’ve been waiting for this for years and years, and as it’s finally happened, you feel your heart burst with excitement and joy. However, you still feel a fair amount of hesitancy to accept his feelings due to his previous actions.

He watches your face, searching your eyes for an answer. “Jake, I… I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the uncertainty in your voice. “But do you understand how much you hurt me by ignoring me for so long?” Your voice trembles with anger and sadness. “How am I supposed to know that you won’t do that if we get into another situation like this? I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

Jake’s eyes fill with regret. “I know, Y/N. I was such an idiot. I thought staying away would somehow protect our friendship, but all I did was make things worse.” He takes a hold of your hands and kneels between your legs, while looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t lose you, I don’t know what I would do with you.”

Your lips part in shock and overwhelm as you can sense the sincerity in his words as a couple of tears slip from your eyes. “Okay, Jake. I believe you. And actually, I’ve loved you for years too. I love you so, so much. But you need to promise me that you’ll never do that again, okay? We need to be there for each other, always.”

Jake’s eyes light up with elation. Under this light, he looks a bit like an excited puppy. How adorable, you think to yourself. “I know, I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I love you, Y/N. I want to be with you.”

Now that you’re feeling more secure in your relationship with Jake, you finally feel at ease. With him, everything is easy and comfortable. With him, you feel at home. “Well, of course you do. I know I’m hard to resist,” you tease. Jake smiles up at you, happy that you’re back to your normal, witty self. “Yeah, imagine how hard it was for me to hide it for so long,” he replies with a grin.

“Mm, yeah, must’ve been pretty tough,” you nod sarcastically as you gently pull him up by his chin. He beams at you before cupping your face and bringing it closer to him until your lips meet in a tender, soft kiss. You both feel fireworks as your mouths rhythmically move together in waves of passion. The kiss is filled with years of unspoken feelings and promises of a future together.

When you finally pull apart, the room is filled with nothing but sounds of heavy breathing. Jake then rests his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. I won’t let you down again.”

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your chest. “I love you too, Jake. Just don’t keep me in the dark anymore, okay?”

Jake nods, his eyes shining with love. “Never again. From now on, no more secrets.”

You two lay back on the bed, and Jake pulls you close to his body, letting you rest your head on his chest. You talk late into the night, much like you’ve always done before, the difference being instead of best friends, it’s now a conversation between a boyfriend and a girlfriend. This is all you’ve ever wanted and more.

The sun begins to rise again, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, just like that night on the rooftop. But this time, there are no unspoken words or missed opportunities. Just the promise of a new beginning for you and Jake, together.

tags: @breadlover01 @en-chantedtomeetyou @14-hibiscus

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swiss-mrs · 2 days

Text

PORTALS (I)

Eddie Munson x Reader/OC

This AU takes inspiration from The Witcher Series and DND, but prior knowledge of The Witcher or DND is not needed.

AU "Warnings": Violence, Angst, Adventure, Gore, Supernatural Elements, Adult Themes and Language. No Use of Y/N

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: Medium-Long Hair, No Mentions of Race, Ethnicity, Age, Etc.

(WC 5,038)

‘Fuck, this sucks!’ Eddie thinks to himself as he blows hot breath into his hands. ‘Of fucking course I lose my keys right now.’

Round 4 of pacing through the woods and still no luck. Eddie ducks down to try and get a better view of something metallic looking under a bush. “Oh thank God. AH-” He stumbles forward and braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing to eat dirt, yet it doesn’t happen. He wheezes as his back hits the ground with a dull thud, 'fucking tree.' He tries catching his breath, opening his eyes to see the moonlit treetops above him. ‘The fuck?’ He furrows his brows, lifting his back off the ground, adjusting into a sitting position. He stares at his legs in front of him. “What the fuck?” He repeats out loud.

Eddie looks around the ground beneath him. ‘How did I…’ He moves his left hand feeling the mulchy ground before hitting something hard. His features relax a bit as he turns toward the glistening item, reflecting a warm glow. “Sweet.” A little smile forms on his lips as he grabs his keys and begins to lift himself up, but he is quick to furrow his brows again. Eddie then finally looks up to take in his surroundings. Doing a quick 360, he now notices he can no longer see his van nor the parking lot just beyond the tree line. In fact, it seems the trees just go on forever. “What the fuck?” He questions again, a bit more panicked.

Eddie faces the source of warm glow. ‘A campfire? There’s no way I didn’t notice that before. I couldn't have wandered THAT far.’ His mind starts running a million miles an hour for an explanation of his current state, retracing events over and over. ‘Maybe I should just go over and see if those guys can help…’ Though he can’t see anything past the fire and there doesn’t appear to be anyone huddled around it, he feels a natural instinct to head towards it. Just before his foot touches the ground to take a step, he’s back to laid out and wheezing.

He hit the ground a lot harder this time, and his body is quick to try and regain air, but it can’t. Eddie starts coughing and gasping so much that he barely has the chance to notice the sting of cool metal against his neck.

“You better have a good reason for me not to kill you where you lay.” a voice calls out, low and threatening yet incredibly calm for the situation at hand. Eddie's eyes shoot open as his coughing fit dies down. He stares up in shock at the kneeling figure on his chest.

“What the-” His mind goes blank as he takes in the silhouette above him. It’s hard to see every detail as they are covered head to toe with various layers and the brightest light source is behind them.

They are hooded and masked with an entrancing, mystical glow emitting from their eyes and a few trendless of hair flowing from beneath the hood. Even with one knee jabbed into his chest and a sword against his neck, Eddie couldn’t help but be completely awe struck. This stranger was right out of his character journal but better.

“You mustn't test my patience now.” The figure stated, knee driving deeper, blade nearly drawing blood.

“waH- WAIT! WAIT!” Eddie stammers, putting his palms up in surrender. The figure's glowing eyes narrowed, urging him to continue. “Please! I- I swear I’m not here to bring harm! I’m just lost!” He shouts out in a panic. The figure’s head cocks to the side. Eddie can’t see clearly, but he swears he sees an eyebrow raise. “Please… Take this really awesome looking sword away from my jugular and just let me explain.” Eddie tries to reason with the stranger. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the stranger gets up, standing next to Eddie’s laying figure, sword unwavering.

“Up.” the voice cuts through the air as if speaking directly into Eddie’s mind. He moves as quickly as he can with caution, not wanting to spook the sword’s wielder into chopping his head clean off. He slowly lifts his hands in the air again to show no harm.

“Okay, okay.” He breathes out quickly as his mind tries to explain himself. The stranger’s face gets slightly more illuminated as they now stand. Eddie can see them eyeing him up and down, their gaze now holding a hint of confusion. Eddie takes a deep breath, “My name is Eddie. I lost my keys after coming out here to take a piss and right as I found them I tripped and now I have this super badass looking warrior standing in front of me with a blade to my neck.” He rambles. “ I have no idea how I managed to get this far from my van, and, though really cool and really scary, I am really confused as to what is happening right now.” He answers truthfully. The hooded figure only continues to stand still, staring into his soul. “I swear on my life, I am just really lost… Please.” He begs, hoping his story is enough.

“Where are you from, Eddie?” The shift in their voice as they say his name is almost taunting, untrusting.

“Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana.” He answers quickly.

“Hm.” It is short, testing. A second later, the sharp coolness on Eddie’s neck disappears, and he relaxes. The blade flickers by the stranger’s side. “Eddie of Hawkins.” All tension floods back into his body, awaiting for the next sentence. “It is quite obvious you are not from here, but I fear you may be more lost than you know.” The masked swordsman turns their back on Eddie, walking back towards the fire. “I advise you to go back to… Hawkins.” The words unfamiliar to their tongue. “You do not belong here.” Eddie stands there with his hands hanging in the air, dumbfounded.

‘Ouch…’ He’d hate to admit it, but for some reason, that stung. He breathed a sigh, resting his arms back at his sides. He watches as the figure gets farther, sitting on a log next to the fire. Eddie stares for a moment, then glances behind him to look at the never ending woods, then looks back to the figure next to the fire. He takes a few steps back, turning to head the opposite direction of the fire.

He doesn’t know it, but the figure's eyes find him again, watching as he stumbles further into the night. The figure shakes their head as they continue to tend to the fire.

》》》

“Fucking Christ.” Eddie mumbles to himself. He’s been walking in no particular direction for what feels like a good 20 minutes. ‘There is no way I managed to get THIS far from the lot.’ He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around him and his jacket. ‘I should have just asked for directions. Maybe even ask if I could stay by the fire with them until morning.’ Eddie shakes his head at his own foolishness. “Stupid.” Another seemingly 10 minutes pass and he hears the sound of rushing water. ‘Maybe it’s a river. I’m pretty sure following a river is a good idea to lead somewhere.’

Eddie changes direction a little, leading him to a wide body of shallow water. If it weren't for the circumstances, he would’ve loved to just sit and admire the way the moonlight shone like glitter atop the water. As he looked around Eddie noticed another light emitting from the other side of the river. He is quick to spot a fallen tree that looks to be his best option to get to the other side of the water without soaking his feet. Eddie uses a couple rocks to help hop his way over to the tree. Walking across the tree, he starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. ‘What the fuck was up with that masked person back there? A sword?’

Eddie hops off the makeshift bridge and to the ground, continuing his trek toward the fire. The closer he gets, he notices what looks to be several people laying on the floor next to the fire. He sighs in relief, ‘Maybe a group of campers will be of more help.’

Just as he is about to announce his presence, something catches his foot, causing him to trip forward. This time, landing as gravity intended, on his face. “Really?” he says out loud in frustration. He spits at the dirt stuck to his lips and turns as he sits up looking down at what tripped him this time.

His eyes nearly jump out of his head. ‘No way.’ He scoots back a bit further, scrambling away. ‘Is that a LEG?!' He feels the need to scream as his breath picks up. He turns towards the campsite and now realizes a crucial fact he did not notice from afar. The bodies that littered the ground around him were just that, bodies. Mangled bodies. Dead people.

Eddie scrambles to get farther away from the gruesome scene in front of him. “AHH!” He yells out. “What the shit fuck!?” His panicked eyes scan around him. The bodies, rather body parts, that litter the forest floor are all torn as if jagged claws or teeth ripped them apart. He can't bare the sight yet he can't tear his eyes away from the scene. He scrambles to his feet and begins to slowly walk backwards, back toward the river. Crack. Eddie stills, ceasing his movements, holding his breath. 'That wasn't me. Is whatever did this still here? Shit, I really shouldn't have made so much noise.' Crack. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his ears. Snap. What he'd originally thought was the sound of twigs, now sounds an awful lot like the breaking of bones. God, how he wished he didn't have to be so familiar with that sound.

Crack. Eddie's head whips to his left, trying to find the source of the noise. There he sees two piercing white dots looming in the dark. Eddie remains frozen in place, holding the gaze of whatever this is. His heart quickens impossibly faster as the floating dots start to menacingly raise higher and higher. "f-fuck." his trembling voice coming out as a whisper. He stumbles back further, his brain screaming for his body to run. This thing in front of him stands at least 8 feet tall. As it stands to its full height, it lets out a piercing, high-pitched screech, rattling Eddie's skull.

"fuuUUUUAHHHHH!" He yells out as he turns and starts running back toward the river. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" He repeats his entire run. He can hear the rapid footsteps of the creature behind him, quickly catching up to him. 'I'm not gonna make it!' He has no idea why he urges himself back to the way he came. There is no out running this thing. Maybe he's just instinctually trying to reach that masked being he encountered before? They had weapons at least, but they were a good 30 minute walk away. He wasn't even sure if they were still there. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd even reach them in time even if they were still where he left them. He could see the tree he came across on, but would he even have time to climb back on it and make it across?

"GET DOWN!" a voice booms. Eddie quickly dives toward the fallen tree and into the shallow water, hoping to at least use the wood as a barrier between him and that thing.

The horrid, inhuman shriek of the monster blares once again, a more human-sounding yell interrupting it, challenging it. The sounds of a struggle could be heard, but Eddie was too preoccupied with trying to catch his breath. All he can hear is the sounds of water sloshing, monster shrieks, and the occasional huff from presumably the one fighting off the beast. Everything in him wants to run, but he fights the urge.

Eddie makes his way to his knees, kneeling behind the tree and lifting his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the battle happening. He doesn't catch much as not a second after he lifts his head above the tree does he catch a familiar assailant flit from the ground to a large rock just on the edge of the riverbed to the creature's spiked back, a black smoke-like substance following each move. Their movements were so swift and fast, Eddie could have sworn they just teleported.

The monster shrieks again in panicked defiance, the assailant driving their sword down into the back of the creature's neck, cutting the noise short. The fighter swings down from the creature's back, around its right shoulder, passing its front and landing a few feet away from the tree hiding Eddie. The fighter lands with a splash at the same time as the creature's head falls into the water behind them, the rest of its body falling suit.

Eddie stares in absolute awe. 'Holy Christ...' The fighter stands from their slightly crouched landing. As they lift their head, Eddie notices their mask has slipped, revealing their face 'Woah.' He couldn't help but stare, tracing each feature of their face with his eyes. He waited for them to look up, finding himself longing to see those glowing eyes again.

"You can come out now, Eddie of Hawkins." Eddie's breath hitches. He stands slowly, glancing from the figure to the decapitated creature behind them. "Come." Their voice demands as they begin to walk toward the monster's head, picking the cursed thing up, wrapping it in a dark cloth, and continuing out of the water to the side they originally came from. Eddie is quick to follow, stumbling along the tree's length and to the river's edge, jogging up to meet the familiar stranger once out of the water. He stays a couple of paces behind, a little weary of the covered, massive head in front of him. "I thought I told you to go back to Hawkins." Eddie is a little at a loss for words. "I told you. You don't belong here."

'Again, ouch.'

"It is quite obvious you are not of this world."

Eddie sighs in response. 'You got that right'

"You lack the self preservation even a doe or babe would have. Your choice of robes seem to work against your already evident lack of skill… and you smell-"

"Excuse me!" He interrupts, quickly lifting his jacket to his nose, sniffing himself. "First off all, Ouch. I get it. I'm no teleporting warrior, but where I'm from, things like that," he points at the bag accusingly, "are not common." He pauses, "Second of all, I told you. I have no idea how I ended up here, and... I have no clue how to get back…" He finishes, his tone dropping a bit as he realizes how truly lost he is. As he and his strange companion fall into a thoughtful silence, his mind begins to run.

'What if I never find my way back? How does time even run here? What if I do get back and everything is different? What about Wayne? Will I ever see him again? God he will be so worried. I told him I'd make a point to call him every payphone I passed. He's going to go mental. What if there is no way back? What am I going to do? How are you going to get out of this one, Eddie? You're all by yourself this time.' Eddie is so lost in these thoughts, he doesn't even realize the previous fire he first met this stranger was coming into view. The warmth from the blazing fire was what brought him back to reality, or this reality.

He watches as the stranger walks to the other side of the fire, opposite of him, crouches down, and stuffs the clothed head into a large leather bag before tying it off. The hooded stranger stands, leaving the bag on the floor. "Sit," They say, gesturing to the log they were seated on earlier that night. "if you want." Eddie blankly follows instruction and takes a seat next to the fire on the edge of the log. A loud huff causes Eddie to nearly jump out of his skin. He whips around to find a huge horse a few feet behind him. He sighs, relieved it isn't another monster. A small, airy chuckle breaks the silence. "Do you not have draughts in Hawkins?" The stranger teases.

"Draught?" he asks in confusion.

"This is Rogue." The stranger says tenderly, gently stroking the animal's massive head.

"We call them horses." He replies, only to be followed with another short, breathy laugh from his savior.

"Yes, that is what they're called. A draught is a working horse. A big horse, in lamest terms." The stranger breaks down. Eddie's face heats up a bit.

'Nice, now not only are you as skilled as fucking Bambi, you're also a dumbass.'

"Rogue is my most trustworthy friend. He's the best guy around." The stranger smirks, Rogue huffing and nodding his head up and down as if to agree with the statement. Eddie grins, amused at the horse's actions. "One moment." The stranger says abruptly, catching Eddie off guard a little. They make their way to the other side of Rogue and start rummaging in a sack. As they come around to the front side of Rogue, Eddie notices them carrying a stack of fabrics. "Here." They walk towards Eddie, placing the stack on the log next to him. "You are soaked to the bone after diving into that river. You'll find the weather is not very kind this time of year." Eddie shivers just as the sentence ends, as if on queue. "I would apologize if they are too small, but by the looks of it, you do not mind tighter garments." Eddie scoffs at the comment, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Just keep 'em comin'." He replies, earning an amused but confused head tilt from the stranger next to him. "Thank you." He stated gratefully, picking them up as he stands.

"Not to worry, this hunt ended a bit sooner than expected, so I won't be needing the change of clothes. I should be the one expressing gratitude." the stranger takes a seat on a tree stump adjacent to the log. Eddie's nods, not wanting to ask any further questions until he was out of his wet clothes. He stands awkwardly for a second, trying to decide where to change. "Just on the other side of Rogue is a hanging cloth. You can change behind there." the stranger says as if reading his mind.

"Got it." Eddie nods, walking around the log and around the front of Rogue, nodding to him as if to give a Hello, Rogue softly huffing back in response. Eddie makes his way behind the hanging cloth and begins stripping off his sneakers and soaked pants with some difficulty. Feeling incredibly exposed, he hurriedly shuffles through the pile of clothes and slides on the new pair of pants. They fit about the same as the jeans he'd previously wore, but they were more comfortable and had more give than the stiff jean material.

Next was his shirt. The shirt the stranger gave him was a bit looser than the band t-shirt he came here with. It had longer sleeves with lacing at the neck. He mentally compared it to a pirate shirt but in black.

'Metal.' he thought to himself. He never owned something so fantasy-esque. He never felt so in character. He smiled to himself a little, imagining how cool he would look in his own variation of his saviors attire. 'Now is not the time, dipshit. Get back to the fire before you freeze your nuts off.' he interrupts his own mental tangent. 'You're right. Of course I am. Wait why the fuck am I talking to myself.' He shakes his head at his inner dialog, and makes his way back to the fire.

As he rounds Rogue to get back to the log, Eddie notices the stranger has taken off their boots and placed them just out of the fire's reach. They also moved the log a bit closer to the fire as well. They look up at Eddie as he walks toward them. "Lay your clothes there, so they can dry by morn." They state, pointing to the log with the stick they held. Eddie did as he was told, placing his shoes next to the strangers and laying his shirt and pants over the log. Just as he was going to lay his jacket down, his heart sunk.

“Shit.” The stranger looks up at a frantic Eddie as he rummages through his jacket pockets. On one side, he finds his van keys and wallet. As his hand pats the left side of his jacket, he sighs in relief feeling a hard box in the pocket. He fishes the contraption out of the pocket, throwing the jacket over the log haphazardly, next to his other clothes. His hooded companion glances between him and the unrecognizable item in his hands. “Please don’t be broken.” He begs the thing. It is relatively dry, so he has some hope. He presses a button on the side of it, putting it up to his ear. He lets out another sigh of relief as the stranger looks at him quizzically.

“What in the realms is that?” they say, grabbing Eddie’s attention.

“Music.” He answers matter-of-factly. The strangers face scrunches further.

“I am not sure our worlds have the same meaning for music.” Eddie grins, dropping his hand from his face.

“Here.” He goes over to the stranger, kneeling on the ground next to them. “This is called a walkman.” He holds up the small box. “Inside of it is a tape.” He pops the door open, causing the stranger to jump back a bit. This causes Eddie to chuckle. The stranger shifts their hard gaze to him, causing him to end his laughing short, covering it up with a cough. He tilts the box towards them a little to expose the tape inside. “The music is held inside the tape. You can change them out with different tapes for different songs.” He pops it back closed. “When you press these buttons, you can play, pause, fast forward, or rewind the music. These things attached to it are headphones.” He explains, stretching out the wire to unravel it. He places the headphones over his curls to demonstrate how you wear them. “This is where the music comes out from.” He takes the headphones off his head then clicks play. A muffled noise can be heard coming from the devices. He brings the headphones a little closer to his savior's face. The stranger leans in a little, hearing what sounds like a man singing and strange muffled whines they’ve never heard before. Their brows are drawn together.

“What kind of music is that?” They say, not quite understanding the instruments that can be heard.

“Rock music. This is a mixtape I made. This one in particular is one of the best bands ever. Black Sabbath. This song is from their Paranoid album. It came out over a decade ago, but I can’t seem to get tired of it. I have an original vinyl. It’s one of my greatest possessions. I actually swiped it from a record store when I was 11 as a birthday gift for myself. Cherished it ever since.” He rambles on, the stranger staring at him as if he’d grown an extra head. He notices the stare and stops talking. He pauses to take a breath. “Sorry… I know probably nothing I just said made any sense to you… I get a little passionate about music, and it’s exciting to introduce someone to my favorite bands.”

“Are you a bard of some kind?” They ask, curious about Eddie’s life in the land of Hawkins. Eddie chuckles, lighting up a bit.

“I guess you could say that. I’ve studied the art of guitar my whole life.” He says dramatically, lifting his head proudly, slipping into his DND fantasy character persona a little. The stranger looks at him curiously.

“Guitar?”

“Yeah, Uh, simplified, it's like a wooden box, with strings, that you strum to make music.” He stumbles to describe a guitar, holding his hands up to mimic himself strumming a guitar.

“A lute?” Eddie snaps, pointing at the stranger, slightly startling them, but he doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in his explanation.

“Yeah! It’s like a lute, but mine uses, uh, like controlled lightning; we call it electricity. It is used to amplify the sound, and it also changes the sound a bit.” He rambles again, “But, yeah, it’s very similar.” The stranger nods, trying to wrap their head around the description.

“It is like a magical lute…” they reply. Eddie smiles a bit wider, liking their interpretation.

“Yeah, you could say that.” The stranger nods again, going back to tending the fire. Eddie stays there, kneeling on one knee, taking in each feature of his savior’s face, admiring how the soft light of the flickering flames dances across their skin. He notices their eyes are no longer glowing from within. They have now softened to their natural hue, reflecting the light from the flames.

“Do I have something on my face?” the stranger asks seriously, yet not changing their position at all, still poking the fire with the twig in their gloved hand. Eddie is knocked out of his trance. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he jumps to face the fire.

“No, no. I was just, um,” trying to find his words, he pauses then lets out a light, awkward laugh, “Are you some kind of monster hunter or…?” He switches topics. The stranger shortly laughs through their nose, amused by the question.

“Yes, something like that.” they respond vaguely. Eddie waits eagerly, waiting for his savior to expand on the concept. “You should rest.” the stranger cuts short. Eddie’s shoulders fall slightly. He was ready to get a full lore dump, akin to what his little sheep would do in Hellfire when they’d introduce a new character, but he had to remind himself that this, in fact, was not a roleplay. It was real. This is a real person with very real skills and a very real backstory.

‘Come on, dude. Chill out. You can’t really expect them to divulge into their whole backstory, right now. There is no telling how long you are going to be here. We got time… I think…’ Eddie sighs deeply, his eyes flutter at the dreaded thought.

The stranger stands, bringing Eddie out of his own head. He follows suit, standing slowly. He watches as the stranger goes over to Rogue and unlatches a buckle to release a thick roll. Eddie’s eyes follow as they make their way to the opposite of the fire as the log that held his clothes and starts to unravel the roll into a makeshift bed.

It’s about 3 inches thick with a sturdy linen exterior. They then go back to Rogue and lift off a large fur pelt, walking back around to the bedroll and laying the pelt out.

“Here.” The warrior states shortly, making their way back to the stump to sit and continue tending to the fire. Eddie stays standing in his place.

“Wait, that was for me? Where are you going to sleep?” He protests, eyeing his hooded companion.

“I will not sleep. I will keep watch. As you may now know, these woods,” they gesture to the bag that held the decapitated head, “are not very safe… though, a little safer now that I've rid it of its Alghoul problem.” They poked the fire a few times. “Hence, I prepared for a restless evening. I will be fine. Now rest.” They continued, shutting down any opposition before it started.

Eddie stared down at them, tempted to argue, but when a pair of stern eyes connected with his, a slight glow building from within, he instead made his way to the bed, sitting upright, facing the fire. The warrior side eyes him as he chooses to sit up instead of lay down. They shake their head a little as their gaze returns to the fire.

Eddie’s gaze stays fixed on the flames. A chill runs down his spine, just now feeling the effects of the cold night air licking the back of his dampened shirt.

Realizing the wetness of his hair was causing the issue, he takes the black scrunchie that was around his wrist, hidden under his sleeves, and pulls his hair up, tying it in a lazy bun to get it off his back. He then moves to grab the heavy pelt behind him, wrapping it around his shoulders. As he settles back into his cross-legged position, the silence, though comfortable, only allows room for his mind to wander.

Eddie's thoughts were filled with dread at first, so much so he didn't notice the soft humming coming from the stranger seated beside him. As soon as their humming started though, Eddie could feel his breathing slow, and subconsciously, he began to relax.

His mind began to silence, as if the voices in his head were getting farther away and eventually locked in another room, muffled. His eyelids began to fall and his body became more slumped. A couple seconds after his eyes completely shut, he could hear the faint sound of dirt shuffling just barely noticeable underneath the wood crackling fire. The humming began to get closer with each shuffle. He then felt the faint touch of two hands pushing on his shoulders, forcing him to lay. Drifting in and out of sleep, he feels his head hit the linen beneath him. The humming becomes more and more distant as his senses begin to leave him, slipping into a deep sleep accompanied by an angelic voice and the crackling of firewood.

-🦇-

I have no idea where I'm taking this but I just like this AU 😫 forgive me

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest @madelynraemunson

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #x black!reader #eddie munson swiss fics #swiss fics #eddie munson x poc!reader #stranger things au

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mandaplease10 · 2 days

Text

Season 3 Part 2 Thoughts...

I'm probably going to do an episode by episode recap and thoughts later on.

Initial thoughts after watching Ep 5 - 8 at 2am and then rewatching Polin only scenes later on.

I have very happy with how this season and Polin's love story turned out. Of course, there are things I wish happened differently, but for the most part it was wonderful!

Colin's Love - I love that Colin realized he loved Penelope right away and that he basically always felt something there, but didn't realize what it was. Many of us said this after part 1, but I love that we got it confirmed by Colin himself.

Colin's Insecurity - I also love that Colin was so caught up in his own revelation that he was worried that Penelope didn't feel the same. It goes to show that he was still a little unsure of himself and even had his own insecurities. Typically with male leads they assume their feelings are reciprocated, but with Colin his biggest fear was Pen not loving him back.

Featheringtons - I loved them including the healing of the Featherington family because Pen's feeling of loneliness and wanting to be part of the Bridgerton family stems from her lack of family support and love within the Featheringtons. Having Colin stand up for her was the catalyst Portia needed to truly see Pen as she should have and it also gave Pen the confidence to stand up for herself in her own family, which lead to Pen having a deep conversation with her mother that they've always needed to have.

The Wedding, I wish it happened on a bit more of happier terms, however, it was still obvious that Colin did want to marry Pen and not just out of duty like he had said. He just didn't know how to process what he was feeling and to allow himself to be with her. He put his guard up again basically.

The Cressida drama - loved they included this and how it was handled. This was the catalyst that kicked started the true reveal - similar to the books. The writers did a great job in allowing Book!Colin to come out by trying to handle everything himself, but also allowed Penelope take matters into her own hands.

Reveal to the Ton - Pen was so bad ass for this! She truly is the most impressive woman of the Ton. I love that she did this herself instead of Colin like in the books. However, I wish that Colin would have joined her after the Queen left or at least right after because I found it a little odd that he stood by without rushing to his wife to make up. I'm really happy the writers ended up tying up that story line within Polin's season. I was little unsure if they would because LW is a huge part of the show, but because Whistledown was Pen's voice and confidence in the ton, her being herself and with Colin has allowed her to find her own voice and no longer hide. Had they kept the big reveal a few more seasons, it would not have carried the same impact.

Epilogue Moment - I seriously wish we could have an entire episode dedicated to happy epilogues where everyone is happy and maybe gearing up to head to the countryside in between seasons. I hate that these scenes are only like 5 minutes. Anyway, Congrats on a Baby Polin who is now Lord Featherington! I loved that Pen got this and would have loved to see Colin's face when he found out, but it is what it is. I also love that both Pen and Colin are writers like in the book, but that Pen is able to keep her column. The final kiss taking place in front of the drawing room window where Pen would sit was such a great choice.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #polin #bridgerton s3 #polin bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #colin and penelope #colin x penelope #penelope x colin

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persephone411 · 2 days

Note

Hi darlin

If youre open to it I have a request

Going lingerie shopping with John(I read the John wick lingerie freferences and it was amazing) I’m giving you complete freedom what happens there🎀

I wish you well

First of all, thank you for the request (it’s actually the first one I’ve ever received 😂) I hope you like it, it actually became a lot longer than originally planned but well… I suddenly felt very motivated

Lingerie Shopping with John Wick

-it happend while you were spending a day at a mall, mostly just window shopping. You were walking hand in hand while John also had a bag full of new books for both of you

-Originally when you saw the store, you wanted just to quicky buy some new panties, because John had managed to rip another pair of yours (which also happened to be one of your favourites)

-you were surprised when he followed you into the store, none of your exes would have done that (they would have just stood outside the store while being on their phone, looking awkward)

-but not John. He walked without any shame, handsome and majestic as always behind you.

-“It’s fine John, you can wait outside, it will only take a few minutes”

-“but I wanna come with you. I ripped the panties, I replace them”

-you shake your head in disbelief, but at the same time couldn’t hide your smile as you see your boyfriend, dressed in dark jeans and a black Henley shirt walk through the pink and white store.

-because it was already late, the store was nearly empty, with only two two saleswomen gossiping at the checkout.

-so you took your time looking through all the different designs and cuts.

-as you turn around to search for John you saw him in the section with the delicate, more expensive lingerie.

-He was staring at a gorgeous night blue set with golden details, including a garter belt. You didn’t wanna even know the price of it.

-“found something you like darling ?He asked as he noticed your gaze.

-“still looking, any specific wishes ?” You asked teasingly

-“I love everything you feel confident in”

-after a bit you found a few pairs you liked, now debating if you should get the bras too.

-“Here, try this” John gave you a bunch of cloth hangers, full of lace and satin.

-a bit overwhelmed to took everything and walked towards the changing rooms while John grabbed the bras you were debating if you should get them and followed you.

-As you looked through John’s selection you smirked. Yes, he definitely had preferences.

-All the things he picked out for you were classy and elegant, no bright, corny, colours, no cheap looking designs or fabrics.

-While trying on the bras, You wondered briefly how he knew your exact size.

-But he was John wick, of course he knew everything about his girlfriend, including her bra and panty size.

-After the first bra, John asked if he could come inside the changing room.

-his eyes widened as he saw you (and you wore the most simple set out of all. Matching bra and panties in a nice dark green)

-“you look gorgeous Angel” he whispered as we wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

-you giggled and ushered him out of the changing room so you could try all the other sets he had brought you

-As you tried on all the different sets, you made sure to let him not see all of them

-He loved spoiling you, and you loved surprising him

-In the end you left the changing room with four new bras plus matching panties, a new pyjama set and a bunch of other panties.

-As you walked to the checkout, you didn’t even try to argue with John about splitting the payment, you knew he wouldn’t allow you to pay for them

-As he pulled out his card, your gaze wandered over to the night blue set had had his eyes on earlier. It was truly gorgeous and luckily Johns birthday wasn’t that far away.

-while he paid, chatting with the saleswomen, you quickly ordered the set online, knowing that it would arrive just in time for his birthday.

-,,Let’s go home darling” he whispered In your ear and you smirked as you felt his errection against your butt.

-you nod and take his hand, leading him out of the store.

-As you reach his mustang, he pulled you against him, kissing you softly

-“how about we I get us some nice wine on the way home for later ?”

#requests #John wick #John wick x reader #John wick x you #John wick imagine

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specialgradefckr · 3 days

Text

Heatwave: Day 3

tw: explicit content, dubcon. 4k+ words. No curses AU. Kenjaku/reader (Kenkaju looks like Geto here). female!omega!reader, beta!Kenjaku, ftm!Kenjaku, we support both good and evil trans people on this blog. It is implied that Kenjaku is also a trans alpha.

Examination kink, praise kink, Kenjaku is an OBGYN, honestly he's not even trying to pretend he's normal, BIG medical malpractice, reader is Feeling Very Weird Things but is Into It, reader can tell Kenjaku is being Not Very Professional but gaslights the shit out of herself bc he’s hot, you go queen.

Prompt: An omega goes for a regular health checkup that leaves them weeping from all holes.

Kenjaku Itadori – formerly Kaori Itadori, you had heard – is a unique individual in his own right. You’d seen the pictures of him before and after transitioning, proudly displayed on his profile, and you can tell why.

It was quite the transformation. A pretty housewife with a bob and a strained smile, to a handsome gentleman who exuded confidence. His hair is actually longer now that he’s presenting as a man, his face broad but still possessed of a delicate nose and lips, a well-defined jawline.

There’s a scar going across his forehead dotted with what look like stitches; it looks like it’s been tattooed over to resemble a chain of stars. What kind of surgery left him with that? A cursory google reveals nothing, but it’s not a big deal anyways.

And those sharp, hooded eyes that always seemed to be smiling at you, in a way that would probably be a bit disturbing if he weren’t so handsome.

He's also an OBGYN, to whom your insurance had directed you. It’s a bit awkward; he may be a beta, but he’s obviously a man as soon as you lay eyes on him, and your heat is… somewhat close.

A low voice says your name, “It looks like this is your first time here, hm? Getting your yearly exam done?”

His tone is easy and conversational, smiling eyes half-lidded at you in a way that’s probably supposed to be reassuring.

You swallow. “Yes. Dr. Itadori, right?”

There’s a silence, but the doctor fills it quickly, “Kenjaku, if you don’t mind.”

You’re not really one to be familiar with people you’ve just met, but he’s transitioned, so it might be that he enjoys hearing his first name. It’s not like it matters either way.

“Nice to meet you, Kenjaku. So uh,” Your eyes glance all around the room, “What first?”

“How about the easy stuff first?” The smile he makes feels a touch too wide, but with kind eyes that nearly close when he grins, it still manages to be disarming.

“I’ll check your scent glands. If you’re uncomfortable, I can call for a female nurse.”

The self-awareness makes you self-conscious. You’d been overthinking this.

He’s just a doctor, a professional. There was nothing weird here.

When his eyes open up some more, it does look a touch… predatory. But his voice is nothing but warm, cooing, almost, in a way that sets you right at ease.

“Please, have no fear. I’m told I have very gentle hands.”

His smile softens as he lifts them up, fingers long and elegant, like a pianist.

You take a tiny sniff of the air again; he’s a beta. Of course he’s a beta. It was much simpler to transition as a beta than any other secondary gender, so that made sense. The tinge of sandalwood in the air was probably a cologne.

Maybe you should ask him what he uses.

With a nod, you slip off your jacket, pulling down the collar of your shirt. It’s a bit chilly in here; gooseflesh prickles over your exposed skin.

When he walks up to you, you’re warmed a little, and the heat of his nearby body radiates through the air.

He reaches his hands out to your neck. Ungloved.

You can’t help your heart racing as he traces over your throat. The swell of skin where your scent was strongest, right beneath his fingertips. It’s hard not to shiver at least a little.

“It’s kinda cold,” You murmur, quietly, just to fill the silence.

Dr. Kenjaku leans in. He’s got a wide frame – strong, broad. So warm you find yourself leaning back, just a little.

“Sorry about that,” His voice is deep, closer to you now. “It does get a bit drafty in here, doesn’t it?”

It’s hard to answer with your heart in your throat.

Stickiness makes itself known on your neck, a layer of secretions from the very gland he traces over. As soon as you realize how wet his fingertips have become your face flushes red.

Before you can open your mouth, he says, “Perfect, perfect, very good.” Something lurches in your chest at the praise, “Your glands are reacting to stimulus appropriately. Nothing wrong, there.”

Ah. Yes. Nothing wrong, he was just checking. Of course you would start leaking – your glands would start leaking, if he touched them like that. It was very rare to touch another person’s neck in daily life, much less the part where scenting glands were.

That’s why it was – it made you a bit antsy. But it’s fine, just an awkward examination. Something to get through.

“Nervous?” You give him a noncommittal hum and he sets a wide, reassuring palm over your shoulder.

“Doctor Kenjaku – ”

“Just Kenjaku, remember?” He squeezes your shoulder, and although the gesture is alarmingly familiar, you feel a little bit of the tension seep out of you, “Don’t worry, what you’re feeling isn’t unusual at all.”

He tilts his face to the side, painfully handsome with his bangs drifting lightly in front of his face.

“Just focus on relaxing for me. Can you do that?”

You take in a deep breath – louder than you would have liked – and let it go. Then you nod at him.

“Oh, we can do better than that. Let me help you.” Another hand on your other shoulder.

Pressing tightly to release the knotted muscle there, he clasps your shoulders with both hands. It’s close to your neck, thumbs edging underneath your scent glands, a tickle that unwinds something heavy in your chest.

Your heartbeat slows to a steady thrum, but there’s a pulse there that doesn’t entirely go away. A delicate throb that ebbs with the tension his hands are working out of you.

Kenjaku keeps going for a moment, humming as his fingertips press into a particularly rigid muscle, working closer into your neck and a bit into your back.

“There you go, very good…” His voice is soft – but that’s just because he’s close, so he doesn’t need to speak so loudly. Kenjaku leans in, “Feel it getting looser?”

It is – your shoulders are. But what was it he was asking about, again? Distantly, you think there’s something weird about this, it shouldn’t really be going like this, but – he’d been otherwise normal, right? Your eyes flick between his hands and his face.

“Just imagine that feeling dripping down your shoulders,” He guides you, hands massaging with his words.

You feel your body following suit. Easy, liquid relaxation pooling as the muscles in your shoulder melt into his touch, starting from your neck, flowing downward over the rest of you. You think for a moment you smell a warm, comforting sandalwood in the air.

Just when it’s about to go on so long you start to really wonder, Kenjaku pulls away.

“Excellent, just perfect.” He’s a bit too satisfied, but you’re too nervous to think more about it until he fetches something from the table.

A scent bursts into the air, artificial and sweet. He holds out something red – a hard candy.

His smile still seems a bit too wide. “A treat for being so good for me. Something to suck on to help you relax.”

The way he says it –

No. No, you’re imagining things. There’s a little slickness you feel gathering between your legs, but that’s just from being – being touched so much. Your glands. That’s why.

You reach out to grab it from him, but Kenjaku moves faster. Long, cool fingers delicately press the candy to your lips. It smells delectable.

Opening up to receive it, his fingers draw into your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue with the candy pinched between them.

As your heart picks up, Kenjaku chuckles, “Say ahhh~. Thought I’d get this part over with real quick.”

It’s sour, so your whole mouth is watering. Sweet, too. Cherry flavored, with a heavy scent. At his gentle prompting, you open wider, even as you swallow away your drool.

He stares intently for a moment at the back of your throat, like there’s anything interesting back there, and pulls his fingers out. They’re sticky, dripping with your saliva, and you flush. Looking away in shame, even though he was the one who put them in there.

Why had he done that again? You’re not stupid, you know this is weird, but you just… for some reason it doesn’t seem like such a big deal. You don’t know. It’s weird.

You’re relaxed now, sure, but you can still feel a pulse in your neck where his hands had brushed against you. There’s a soft, distant throbbing lower down, which you’re trying not to think about.

Even without looking you can feel his cat-like eyes are boring into you, curved like they’re laughing.

But his hands are as gentle as he said they would be. His voice is even sweeter than the candy that’s still tingling on your tongue. You want to believe him. You want him to be… not bad.

“Everything looks good.” His hands are clean, but you didn’t see him wash them. “Are you sexually active?” Kenjaku asks.

“Sometimes,” You say, and then stop yourself from providing any more details.

Do his lips look a bit… wet?

No, no, you’ve got to stop being weird about this. Your thinking this is weird is what’s making this weird. Nothing hurt about the examination, nothing felt bad or uncomfortable or weird. He gave you candy!

The logic sounds a bit childish in your head but you can’t bring yourself to refute it.

And really, is it that important? Is it such a big deal, when you weren’t even that bothered by it? You just need to keep going with the examination. Kenjaku wouldn’t do anything bad.

“I see, I’ll do some extra examinations just to check everything’s okay.” There’s a smile you’d been expecting, a reassuring, comforting tone, no alpha male jealousy or anything, just professional care and consideration.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

He tells you to undress, and you do. Putting on the gown that opened from the front while he sat next to you patiently.

When you get your shirt off, he reaches out and you hand it to him without thinking. He folds it nicely and sets it on his lap, along with the rest of the clothes you hand him. There’s a little plastic bag he puts them in, zipping it up and setting it on the counter as you put on that gown that opens from the front.

You like watching him fold them. He’s so meticulous and graceful, utter domesticity in a lab coat. Handsome face utterly peaceful as he concentrates on his task.

With each article of clothing he passes it by his face as if to examine it before setting it down. You think you see him take a breath, but you’re not sure. It’s not a big deal, anyways.

While you turn in the chair, Kenjaku moves, reaching to help position your legs into the stirrups.

You knew this was coming, of course. You’d felt weird about shaving. On one hand, fuck shaving, no matter how new the blade or how many fancy products you used, you always seemed to get micro-cuts that stung when you washed everything off.

On the other hand, the thought of someone sifting through hair to part your pussy was pretty damn unbearable. The price of looking at any explicit content online was that most of the pussies you’d ever seen, in art or porn, were completely waxed.

Eugh. Maybe you should have gotten waxed. But for a medical exam? That would just be weird.

It’s you. This is all your nerves, you’re the one psyching yourself out. Kenjaku is being so helpful, so friendly, and you’re reading into everything he does. Sure, it’s a little inappropriate seeming in places, but it’s not like you’d protested. And he didn’t hurt you!

If there’s a light in his black eyes as his gaze settled between your legs, that’s probably just…

A normal reaction. You swallow again around the hard candy in your mouth, sourness still buzzing against your tongue. He’s a man, too, right? Any man could be expected to have a reaction. It’s not like you want him to have a reaction, though. Do you?

It occurs to you, as he spreads the lips of your cunt and the bare air meets it, that you are leaking slick.

Fire creeps up your neck, crackling across muscles that had been so carefully relaxed, and you stay still but it adds to the feeling of exposure. Skin wet and naked before his eyes.

Drip. Drip. You are painfully aware of the fact that you’re dripping.

Kenjaku hums, and it’s a pleased sound. This should relieve you, and maybe in some way it does, but you find yourself sucking extra hard against the candy, tempted to crush it between your teeth, as you feel another glob of lubrication slip from your entrance.

“Excellent,” He says lowly, “You’re doing so well, so relaxed for me.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It makes you feel better, you think, but you can’t tell, all your attention focused between your legs.

“Your slick response is really quite extraordinary… I assume you must be near your heat?”

“Yes,” You say.

“Omegas, such fascinating creatures. Your heats must be very productive. Your whole body preparing itself to be bred, in every conceivable way.”

He must hear you whimper, because he follows it with a chuckle, “Oh, don’t fuss. This is a perfectly natural reaction, you know. You’re healthy.”

Dark eyes meet yours. A smile stretching wide across his lips.

“It’s a good thing, don’t you agree? You want to be healthy, yes?”

Yes. Yes, of course you do. He makes another satisfied noise when you tell him so, but this isn’t quite a hum, it’s darker, more rumbly. Almost like a growl. Betas don’t do that, though.

The sandalwood is all gone, so it must have just been his perfume. All you can smell is artificial cherry, and you swallow again, flavored saliva like syrup down your throat.

You hear him move some things around, glancing over at the table beside him. It’s hidden by your legs, a bit.

“I’m putting it in, now,” Kenjaku says.

The – the speculum. The instrument. That’s what he’s talking about. You know because it’s cool against you, metal sliding against your walls as he pushes it in. It’s not too uncomfortable, just… pressure.

“Now, relax for me, will you?” The way he says it, eyes meeting yours, smiling languidly, you feel your body loosen up at his words. You loosen, quivering under his gaze, “Very good.”

A little bit of extra slick drips out of you. You can feel it, but hopefully, he doesn’t notice. It’s so awkward. You’d never been turned on by these things.

Faintly you’re aware that he’s been too familiar with you this whole time, why should it be so strange for you to be aroused? He kept telling you how all this is perfectly natural, and it was.

Kenjaku is just trying to make you feel comfortable. This whole time he’s been nothing but good to you. He smiles at you even now, one large hand spread over your upper thigh, moving over it with soothing strokes.

“This will feel a little tight. Let me know if it feels like it’s pinching on anything. I’m going to spread you open now so I can see inside you.” There’s a heat in his voice, and eagerness, one that doesn’t help with your current situation.

You have to fight the urge to wiggle, and one of your legs actually does twitch in the stirrup – you’re so embarrassed. Somehow you feel like maybe you’re annoying him, getting in his way, making the exam more difficult for Kenjaku with all your apprehension and twitchiness.

He doesn’t deserve that. His handsome face is still smiling at you. It wriggles uncomfortably in your chest, just like your legs in the stirrups, the thought that you’re making things harder for this beautiful, caring man who just wants to help you.

Why are you so concerned with pleasing him? The question leaves your head as soon as he smiles that beautiful smile and opens his pretty mouth again.

“Oh, it must be difficult, staying still, hm?”

“Yes.” You don’t know why you whimper your answer. Omega instincts. Must be, must be…

“Never fear, my dear, I’ve a solution for that.” His eyes turn to crescents as his smile widens. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Somewhere there’s straps, ones he uses to tie your feet into place in the stirrups, and even further up, your thighs. That’s – easier, you think, now. You don’t have to worry about if you’re squirming too much or not.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh, draped over it like another one of the straps. Holding you secure so he can do what he needs. All normal. Everything is normal.

“All ready?” You nod, “Of course you are, what a perfect little patient you’ve been for me. Let’s get you opened nice and wide for me, hm?”

You take a low, shuddering breath. Kenjaku is beaming, so you must be doing really good for him. He’s so happy with you.

His hand is drifting closer to the base of your thigh, where it joins to your torso, just by your abdomen.

Heart racing in your chest, you faintly pick up on your lower half, a throbbing that never really went away. Tensing, trying to close, your legs strain against the straps. Good thing he strapped you in.

It only gets worse when he starts to dilate you, when you feel a pinch against your walls stretching you open, just like he’d said.

“Just like that, yes. You’re doing so well.”

That doesn’t help your racing heart, and in fact it makes it worse. Your entire face is burning as arousal, electric and coursing, races through you.

His eyes are focused on your sex, completely engrossed in his work. Kenjaku’s other hand drifts closer to help spread open your labia.

“There. Let me just take a look, hm? I’ll take a sample of your slick, too, for testing.”

His thumb settles at the crest of your labia, just by your clit. It starts to move, just a bit while his fingers adjust your folds, and then some more, slow, little circles that have your thighs trembling.

You’re leaking, you’re still leaking, so much, and your cunt is gaping between your legs, straining against the metal keeping it spread.

He’s looking at you, inside you, taking it all in, this part of yourself you’ve never seen before. There’s a thrill at the thought, something strange and exciting.

It’s hard not to clench against the speculum, but Kenjaku doesn’t say anything so it must be fine. Natural. His thumb rubs more against your clit, sparks of pleasure shooting up into you.

“Mmm, you’re leaking so well, now. What a good little omega you are. Time to check inside.”

You can feel his fingers drive into your gaping hole, just the warmth of them. They don’t stretch you. You’re already wide open, exposed and vulnerable to his touch, to his gaze, all bared for him to see and do with as he pleases.

“Very good, very good, so good for me. All wide open and letting me in, all dripping in welcome. Don’t fight it, now, there’s no point. My perfect little patient deserves to feel good.”

Helpless to the sensation rushing into your core from the friction rising at your clit. Heavy, lapping at you, pleasure awash –

With a whine and a careless jerk, you cum, cunt squeezing fruitlessly around the instrument as the aftershocks rumble through you.

There’s heat, finally, replacing the sting of humiliation as the bliss radiates through your entire form, letting you finally go lax.

A pressure, distant but firm, nurses at your clit, sending little shivers through you in waves. All you can do is stare at the ceiling, unable to even think of glancing at the doctor.

But even then, the horror starts to creep in. Shame. The feeling of wetness bursting between your legs, like your brain melted and just dripped out with all your slick.

Did you really just cum? “I- I’m sorr-”

“Oh?” His tone is one of feigned interest, “Really, you should stop your fussing.” Shame trickles through you at his words. Like you’re upset about disappointing him. “I told you, these reactions are perfectly natural, you know.”

“I – uh. Okay, doctor – ” You can hear him correct you before he does, “I mean, okay, Kenjaku.”

It feels so strange to say, while the whole of your body is floating on air.

“Good. Let’s continue the exam, then, shall we? There’s just a little bit left.”

You try not to feel disappointed. You try not to listen to your heart pounding at continue.

“Do you ever engage in anal sex?” He gives you a reassuring smile at your awkward, stunned frown, “I only ask because certain activities expose you to different risks. Ideally, I could also examine you for any tearing.”

“Yes,” You say, even though you only tried it once, years ago.

It almost feels like you’re not saying these things at all, like you’re barely inside your own body. You just happen to be an observer from within.

“Here,” Kenjaku stands, undoing the straps on your legs, “This would be more comfortable on your stomach.”

Your heart, you think, is beating out of your chest.

Something primal within you trills at being put on your belly, having your legs strapped back in. Ass up, presented to another for their examination. Ready to be bred.

“I’ll just examine the entrance here, it’s unlikely you’d have any injuries further in without any external signs.”

The lubricant he uses is surprisingly warm and gooey, coating your hole with complete ease. The same thumb that rubbed over your clit spreads at the edge of your rim, pressing it outwards.

“There we go. You were producing so much slick, it would have been a shame to waste it, don’t you think?” He doesn’t pause for you to answer, “Really, you’re leaking now, too. Your heat may start as early as tomorrow.”

You can feel his eyes on you. Feel the stretch in your asshole as he works it open.

“You must be practicing very safely. I don’t see any signs of injury at all.” His finger traces around your rim, pressing, pressing, “So tight. Although, it’s a myth that these orifices can be stretched out. They’re muscles, you know, they can tense and relax.”

It occurs to you that Kenjaku really likes to hear himself talk. Then it occurs to you – much more startlingly – that you like to hear him talk, too. That you’re dripping the more you hear his voice.

“Let me feel inside, just a bit. I’ll squeeze more of this in so it isn't uncomfortable."

More of it? How much had he collected? But that thought fades out of focus quickly.

You whine as you feel your own slick gush into you like jelly, followed by a prodding fingertip. You can’t help but squeeze around him, and he just laughs.

“There, you see? So easy to flex.”

Then he takes the finger out. You blink.

“All done. Now, wasn’t that easy?” You can feel him undoing the straps around your legs as you lie there limply.

It was – it wasn’t – it was – it was – words fail you when you try to think –

Over? It’s over?

You can still feel everything down there, painfully wet, swollen, and throbbing.

“You may feel some discomfort, of course, but that’s only to be expected with your pre-heat. The important thing is that you’re totally healthy – in perfect breeding condition, really.”

Shivering, you sit up in the chair. Kenjaku hands you your clothes, one by one. After a moment of watching you, dazed, trying to put them on, he takes you by the hand and pulls you to standing.

He helps you dress, and you let him, stretching your arms out, holding still idly while he maneuvered you and slid on your clothes.

You step into your panties and he pulls them up for you, right against your still painfully wet cunt.

Hands on your shoulders, rubbing fondly when you shiver. “Excellent job, today. I’m so glad you came. Your health is very important to me.”

You believe him without even thinking about it.

Kenjaku guides you to the door with a hand on your waist, slipping your purse over your shoulder, steadying you. So attentive.

“Careful now,” His voice is low and steady and rumbles through you.

“You’re a beta, right, Doctor – Kenjaku?” You hear your voice ask.

“Well, I never said that,” Kenjaku gives you a wide, cryptic smile. “Alphas and omegas look just like betas until they present, male or female. There are many biological mechanisms connected to secondary sex development that are useful for gender affirmation therapies.”

“Oh,” You say, catching very little of his response.

A hand darts up to wipe some drool from the corner of your mouth. You can still taste the cherry.

You leave like that. Dripping from every hole.

Two days later when you’re just about to enter your heat, you get a call. Somehow, you’re right on the cusp of it, just barely coherent and able to converse.

“Hello there, my favorite patient. Your heat was so close, I was worried about you as your doctor. Do you have a partner for your heat, or do you need me to oversee your care?”

The answer leaves your lips before you know it –

“Please.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #omegaverse #kenjaku #jjk kenjaku #geto!kenjaku #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x you #omega!reader

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