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sydnikov · 1 year

Note

saw you were asking about requests and if that’s still the case: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process.

either established relationship or a feelings realization maybe? whatever you’re most comfortable with.

In Five || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov/Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Cursing (mild this time), sports injury (torn ACL/ligament), steamy kissing, bad proofreading, so much angst, but don’t worry there’s fluff at the end

A/N: I really tortured myself writing this. The emotions are still high, I hate the Bruins (sorry Bruins followers), and I hope you guys get all the feels as you read this. In all seriousness though, THANK YOU to whoever sent this in because it got me out of my writer’s block. (p.s. I’ve now opened requests to get me more inspired… so go submit stuff!!) anyways, I hope y’all enjoy 😁

It wasn’t bad. Not at first glance—at least that’s what you told yourself from the stands, clenching your fingers so hard they left nail indentations in the middle of your palms.

But you knew. You knew your best friend because you could read him like a book. Every twitch of the eye, a quirk of his lips, they all were a glimpse into his mind of what he was thinking. Andrei is your favorite book, and you just reached the chapter where everything starts to fall apart.

He was trying to hide it, the pain he was feeling from the quick stumble he took at center ice. It was just a small muscle pull, though, right? That’s what you thought, but then you saw him skate to the bench, favoring his right knee with the expression of one who knew he messed up.

Andrei played the rest of the game, but as you headed down to the locker room you couldn’t fight the feeling of dread steadily creeping up your heart.

“Hey,” you greeted a few of the girls leaning against the wall, waiting for their significant others to finish interviews. You were sort of an outcast in that manner, because Andrei wasn’t yours… No matter how much you wanted him to be. “Has he come out yet?” you asked.

The solemn shake of their heads gave you your answer, and you didn’t even bother trying to hide your worry when you leaned back against the wall with them, anxiously chewing your lip. The time came and went, seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to an hour of watching the other Hurricanes players come and go—none of them the man you wanted, no needed to see.

It was times like these where you questioned how you got here, waiting on Andrei like a girlfriend but being firmly stuck in the friend zone. He had never made you feel like anything less because of it, but you felt it aching in your very bones when he’d flash a smile to the girls at the bars you frequented, or when he’d ask you whether the blue shirt or the red shirt would look better on a date with the cute girl he met at a shopping mall.

It was funny, too, because you hadn’t met him any differently than he’s met the other girls he’s taken out. It was at a bar, actually, one in downtown Raleigh not too far of a drive from PNC Arena, and you were nursing a drink with a few friends from work when the place exploded in activity because players from the Carolina Hurricanes had just arrived.

You didn’t ask “who?” like one of your coworkers asked, because you loved hockey and went to a decent amount of games, and you could confidently answer which player had which number. In one game you’d even managed to snag glass seats, and that had been the best night of your life.

Never had you actually met any of the players, though. Odd, considering you had always made it a habit to go out at least once on the weekends, but one fateful Saturday night was when you finally were able to get a good look at the players outside of their hockey uniforms. You were content to merely watch them from a distance, but soon you realized they were just like any other regular bar patrons and soon lost interest in eyeing them a few tables back.

It was as you were ordering another drink that you caught from the corner of your eyes a body settling down on your right, too close to be convenient because there were other open seats far from you. You hadn’t been looking for a hookup that night, though, so you figured playing hard-to-get might ward off any men looking for a quick one-night stand.

“Hi,” the man suddenly spoke, accent too thick to be attributed to intoxication. A foreigner? You met his eyes, your gaze colliding with warm brown that reminded you of the hot chocolate you’d buy to keep your hands warm in the winter. “Drink not up to standards?” he said, leaning against the bar counter to get a better look at you.

Your brain had short-circuited, because wow this guy was good-looking, and it only took another minute of analyzing his features with your tipsy brain to realize you were talking to Andrei Svechnikov, or rather, he was talking to you.

“Not much of a drinker to begin with.” you had replied smoothly, shocking even yourself because talking to attractive men had never been a strong suit. “What about you? What do you drink?”

You and Andrei, who had later introduced himself and to which you responded with a cheeky quirk of your lips, “I know”, had hit it off immediately. You talked for hours that night, unable to shake the undeniable chemistry you had between you until one of your friends ran into you slurring her words and stumbling in place that signaled your outing time was up.

You exchanged numbers that night, and unbeknownst to either of you, your hearts were beating in tandem for days after, and brains spiraling with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I think they like me’. Unfortunately… It had never gone beyond that, because communication was hard to begin with for Andrei without the added challenge of having to speak English, and well–past relationships have made it a little hard for you to put your trust in people.

So, here you were. Confidently able to say that Andrei was one of your closest friends who you just so happened to be in love with, but knowing it would never go beyond that. You’d rather have Andrei in your life as a friend than not at all, right?

That’s what you told yourself when you finally heard the familiar sound of Andrei’s deep voice from the locker room, coming closer and closer as the distance between you decreased.

“No, no,” Andrei said, firmly, finally making his appearance. “No hospital. I feel fine.”

“Son, you’re favoring your knee. You need to go, now.” Head Coach Rod Brind’Amour marched in right behind the left winger. “I let you wait out the rest of the game, that’s what we agreed.”

Andrei remained in place, stubbornly glaring at the older man with the two looking like raging bulls getting ready to charge the other.

“‘Drei?” you finally found the courage to speak, hesitantly stepping forward and breaking the heated glare between the two men. You didn’t even notice until now that the athletic trainer was waiting behind them, phone held to his ear. “What’s going on?”

Immediately, the Russian’s eyes whipped towards you and he stepped back from Rod immediately. He said your name in slight confusion, even embarrassment at being caught in the metaphorical pissing match between him and his coach.

“I—” he licked his lips, struggling to find the words in English. “My knee. It is… Messed up.”

“Messed up?” you said. “What do you mean?”

That’s when Rod popped in. “He took a bit of a stumble on the ice, it didn’t look too serious at first but his knee is hurting.” He turned to glare at Andrei. “He can barely stand on it.”

Andrei clenched his jaw, attempting to shift his weight onto his right knee, but he could barely manage to stand before his face twisted up in pain and he had to use the wall to balance himself.

You stepped up to the Russian, worriedly wringing your hands together before stilling them to grab your stubborn friend's arm. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” you smiled wryly, attempting to mask your worry with a small tease.

Andrei towered over you, but his size had always made you feel safe rather than scared, and that applied to now, roo. “I am fine, darling,” he murmured the pet name in Russian, his voice matching the softness of his eyes he could never hide when looking at you. Sometimes he’d speak in his native tongue in front of you because he knew you didn’t understand, and the scowl on your face afterward always made him laugh.

But, even though he was definitely not fine, he could barely take having to bother his teammates and coaches with his issues, nonetheless you. He didn't want you to see him so weak, at least not like this.

“My knee is just stiff. Sore.” he shot a look towards Rod, who up until this moment had been staring at the wall to give the two of you privacy. “It is not that bad, I am sure of it.”

“Then you’ll go to the hospital to get it checked out since it’s ‘not that bad’.” Rod deadpanned, finally breaking the bubble of tension that always seemed to surround you and Andrei when together.

“I agree with him, Andrei,” you said, placing another hand on his arm to gain his attention. “You need to get it looked at, at the very least.”

You gave him your best puppy eyes, peering up at him as he stood over you. You could see the hesitation on his face, knowing his protesting was mostly because he hated bothering others with his problems.

“If not for your career, do it for me?” you said, attempting to bring back his smile by poking him in the chest. “Please?”

A moment of silence, you staring at Andrei and Andrei staring at you…

“��fine.”

He agreed, but his knee was not fine as he said it was. It was bad because it wasn’t actually his knee that had been causing his pain, but rather a torn ligament connected to the knee that turned out to be the ACL in his right leg.

And Andrei was devastated. You weren’t allowed to be in the room with him while they checked him out because he needed an MRI, but Martin and Seth were and it was them who came up to you in the hallway, grim looks on their faces as they broke the news. You could hear the raised voices of both Andrei and Brind’Amour shouting from the room.

You couldn’t see Andrei’s face, but you felt your heart breaking for him anyways as the doctor probably told him how long his recovery would take, the physical therapy he would need to endure, and the amount of time he wouldn’t be able to play hockey for.

“Nine months,” Andrei said, angrily typing away on his phone to his brother, Evgeny, probably. “Maybe six if I am lucky.”

You remained silent, watching him from the kitchen counter at a loss for words. You had offered to drive Andrei home, unofficially taking on the role of caretaker since Martin lived with his girlfriend and Seth was, well… Seth.

Andrei was on the couch, dressed in an old Hurricanes hoodie with shorts, his right leg propped up on a stool wrapped in a temporary cast. His face was flushed, and his hair messy from all the times he had run his hands through it. You knew he was in pain, both mentally and physically, but it really was unfair how he still managed to look so attractive all throughout.

Leg cast and all included.

“Is that what the doctor said?” you asked, finally gaining the courage to speak as you crossed the room. You carefully sat on the couch next to him, not wanting to jostle his leg.

The Russian dropped his phone on his lap, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes before gazing at you with determination. “Yes. But I’m going to be better in five.”

You finally cracked a smile, there’s the ‘Drei you knew and loved, your first one since hearing the news and bringing him back to his house. Andrei couldn’t help but grin, feeling the fondness for you in his heart grow. You were so good to him, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his feelings to himself while you stayed with him.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t mind having you stay with him for the rest of the year, though. Andrei was selfish, and he was also possessive, so he liked having you to himself. He considered Martin and Seth and Sebastian his good friends, his teammates, his bros if you will, but you were his. His best friend, his best girl—you were the only one he wanted, and maybe this new living situation would give him the opportunity to finally tell you.

Andrei just hoped you felt the same. He wouldn’t be able to stand losing you because he couldn’t keep his heart under control.

“Well, you know I’ll be here to help you get through it.” You stated with conviction, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze and your heart beating all the while.

You held your unspoken promise, especially on the day of his surgery a little less than a week after his prognosis. It was an early surgery on a Thursday morning, and you even called off work so you could be at the hospital with him when he woke up.

You already knew most of your friends and family were wondering why you were putting so much effort into caring for someone who was just a friend, and if you were being honest you didn’t have much of an answer to give them. They had a point after all, right?

You and Andrei were just friends. That was it. You may be in love with him (now more than ever), and you definitely omitted that little detail during past conversations, but still. Friends move in with each other to help recover from big injuries all the time.

This time with Andrei was no different, and you had to repeat this mantra over and over again in your head as the anesthesia slowly wore off and his eyes were so soft and droopy, mumbling his words and his accent was thicker than ever and your heart was beating so fast it was going to jump out of your chest–

“Thank you for being here with me,” Andrei slurred, gazing up at you with those warm, half-lidded eyes.

You grabbed his hand, gently, lacing your fingers together and squeezing once. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Andrei squeezed back once before losing consciousness, his eyes closing and his head lolling back against the pillow. “That’s normal, right?” You asked the nurse, who was busy writing on a clipboard. She only had to look up once to take in the situation before responding.

“Everyone responds to anesthesia differently. Your boyfriend is just one of many who has to sleep it off.”

You felt your stomach drop, your eyes widening only slightly at the nurse’s casual use of ‘boyfriend’. Of course, that’s what you and your best friend must have looked like to her, right? You, holding Andrei’s hand, and he gazing up at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

It was probably just the drugs in his system. Definitely.

Andrei was cleared to leave the hospital the next day, and you heard the news from the group chat you, Martin, and Seth were in. It was comically titled, ‘Andrei’s bobble-leg’, courtesy of Seth, of course, and it was essentially just the three of you coordinating who has Andrei duty on the days you weren’t able to be with him.

Unfortunately, the day he was able to go home was the day you had to be back at work, so Martin and Seth left their morning skate early to drive him home. And so, here you were now, finally off from work and driving down Capital Blvd road to Andrei’s home.

Martin, Seth, and surprisingly quite a few of the players were already there when you arrived. You knocked on the front door before letting yourself in, curiosity written all over your face as you walked closer to all the noise.

Happy shouts of your name rang across the room when you appeared in the doorway, and your face flushed red in embarrassment at all the eyes suddenly upon you. “Hey guys,” you said, eyes scanning around the room looking for the only man you really cared about.

Finally, you found him. Andrei was seated on his couch, leg safely propped up on the ottoman and wrapped in tight bandages and a brace. He had an Xbox controller in his hand, the video game he was previously playing on pause.

“How was work?” Sebastian asked from the right of Andrei, also holding a controller. There were several bags of chips laid out across the ottoman, and both men were currently snacking.

It was probably against their diet, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell them that, especially Andrei.

“Work,” you finally responded, rather dry. Most of the population, including you, unfortunately, were not lucky enough to play the sport they loved as their job.

A few chuckles and about an hour later, everyone began packing up to leave. Somehow, you had gravitated toward Andrei during this time of catching up with his teammates and ended up on the couch next to him, on his left. His arm was casually strewn across the back of the couch, fingertips playing with the ends of your hair and occasionally brushing against your neck, sending shivers up your spine.

You liked to pretend it was just you harboring feelings for him sometimes because it was less scary, but every day that fantasy was getting harder and harder to live… Especially when you would turn your head to catch a peek at his side profile, and he was already staring as if knowing the effect he had on you.

“How’s your leg feeling?” You asked once you heard the front door shut, signaling the exit of the last guest. It was silent other than the TV playing softly in the background, it having changed from Call of Duty to a rerun of Friends some time ago.

Andrei sighed, attempting to hide his emotional turmoil with a smile. Bringing his arm down from the back of the couch, he tentatively rested it on your shoulders, gauging your reaction before bringing you to his side. He’s been an affectionate person since you first met him, so you were used to the random hand-holding or hugs, but it still never failed to make you long for something more.

He patted his leg gently, careful not to disturb it from where it rested. “Hurts. But that is to be expected, no?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it can’t suck.” You said, your voice nothing more than a murmur. You rested your head against his shoulder, tugging at a loose string on one of your sleeves.

The hockey player didn’t respond, instead, he placed one of his big hands on your shoulder and squeezed, a sign he at least heard your attempt at reassurance. Time passed quickly like this; Friends continued playing, as did your position tucked into Andrei’s side.

You felt at peace, and while he didn’t say it with words you could tell the Russian beside you felt the same. Hopefully, the next few months of healing will just fly by.

And they did, at first. But even though the Carolina Hurricanes were missing one of their star players, the games must go on. His teammates went out on the ice, each and every one of them feeling Andrei’s absence keenly.

You felt it too, as the Boston Bruins scored their fourth and final goal of the night, winning the game in a shootout. The hope immediately dissipated within your chest and in rose frustration and disappointment to take its place, but you were sure that was nothing compared to what Andrei was feeling beside you.

The entirety of the game, your hand was wrapped in Andrei’s, his squeezing down when the Bruins scored their first goals in regulation and releasing to clap when we were finally able to tip the puck in. Then the team came back in the third period—you weren’t sure what Brind’Amour had said to the boys during the second intermission, but whatever he said had worked.

The Hurricanes had been controlling the puck in the Bruins’ zone, something they had failed to do in the first two periods. They were passing, aiming, shooting, scoring, first by Skjei in the corner of the net and then by Aho on a tight pass from Martinook that slipped right past Swayman’s shoulder.

It was looking so good because Andersen had finally gotten his head in the game and the defense had stepped up, but then we went past overtime scoreless, and then to the fateful shootout.

You had felt the anxiousness from every fan in the arena. If anyone was an avid Hurricanes watcher, including you, they knew shootouts had never been this hockey team’s strong suit.

Andrei’s frustration was palpable next to you. His left leg was bouncing up and down for the entirety, and you could see the muscles tensing and untensing in his right leg as if he had wanted to move. It only got worse when Brind’Amour sent Burns out first, something that had you, Andrei, and every single Hurricanes fan in the arena watching on in confusion.

“No, no,” you had heard the Russian mutter from next to you. “Why is he sending Brent? He needs to send Fishy, or Turbo—” the words then died in his mouth as Brent missed as everyone knew would happen, and sadly Teuvo, who went out next, did too.

Unfortunately for us, the Bruins had good goal-scorers. Coyle had slipped the puck past Andersen, as did DeBrusk, and then it was done. Game over. Just like that.

You finally turned to face the man next to you just as his head fell into his hands, tugging at his hair and messing up the gel you forced him to put on because no, Andrei, you can’t show up with bedhead. He was muttering words you couldn’t understand, most likely the creative Russian curses you heard him say on occasion.

If this game had been hard to watch for you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Andrei was feeling.

“‘Drei,” you said, tentatively. “Are you—”

“No. Don’t.” He snapped, rubbing at his eyes before unsteadily rising to stand. His right leg shook, but he refused the arm you held out and didn’t dare to look in your eyes to see what look they held. As he tried to reach for his crutches, his leg buckled from underneath him, and this time you ignored the hurt of him lashing out to put your arms around his back to steady him.

“Can we— Is it okay if…” he struggled to speak, his accent thick with emotion as he struggled to find the words. Andrei had never been good at communicating when upset, literally, because everything always came to him in Russian naturally, and this time was no different. “Leave? Can we leave?”

“What about—”

“No. No team. No reporters.” he said, digging his fingers into the back of his jersey you were wearing.

You softened, gently maneuvering your body so you could face him better. Now you were chest-to-chest, your arms still wrapped around his midsection to keep him steady. “What do you want then, Andrei?”

“Home,” he murmured. “Home. With you.” he wasn’t able to convey it right at this moment, but his heart was pounding as he said the words. To him, to anyone in his culture, this was the closest he could come to expressing his love without outright saying it.

He found he wasn’t scared about finally admitting this out loud, either, because you were his home. Everything about you was home because he wouldn’t dare let anyone else except his brother and mama see him so vulnerable.

Of course, you were oblivious. He normally found it cute, but right now he wanted to shake you because all he wanted right now was to hold you in his arms and kiss you as he found comfort in your presence.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, the double meaning of his words flying right over your head. But something emboldened you, gave you the courage to raise your hands to his shoulders so you could reach up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips.

“Let’s go home, ‘kay?”

The ride home was silent, comforting even despite the rough loss the team took. By the time you finally managed to get to the car, the two of you were struggling to keep your eyes open and also keep your hands off each other. Andrei tangling your hands together, you gently leaning against his side…

It was all surface-level, neither wanting to speak the words out loud but yet not wanting to sacrifice the innocent, physical intimacy you found with each other. This was all racing through your mind the closer you got to Andrei’s house, and you were almost positive he was thinking the same.

Andrei, in fact, was actually contemplating the one-hundred different ways he was going to kiss you, if he ever gets to that stage with you. He was currently facing the window but left enough room at the corner of his eyes to take little peeks at you, only fuelling his determination to do something about the tension between you.

And, yeah, maybe he was hyperfixating on you to distract him from the fact his team lost and if he was down on the ice he knew he would have been able to fix it, been able to score. His emotions had skyrocketed since the game ended, and everything felt so much more intense than usual.

Maybe that was just the pain medication he was on, though…

After you finally arrived at Andrei’s house, it took a little bit over an hour to finally get yourselves ready for bed. The problem? Neither of you were ready for any sort of sleeping, and you both knew it.

Currently, Andrei was leaning back into the couch, his right leg once again propped up on the ottoman and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap. You were next to him, legs comfortably tucked underneath you with a few inches of space left between you and Andrei.

There was half a family-sized bag of Doritos in between you that he said was in his pantry, so you were both currently snacking on them while watching the NHL channel. It was quiet other than for the TV, for neither of you were speaking a word for fear of breaking the thick silence between you.

The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, and what made it even worse is that you didn’t think Andrei even noticed. He was wrapped up in his phone, most likely watching the game recap because his face was twisted up and his whole body seemed tense.

You shoved another Dorito in your mouth. Fuck. You were so, so screwed. You needed to get it together before you said something you regretted, especially since you had temporarily become his roommate.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and spoke. “Andrei?” you said, hesitantly looking towards him.

“What?” he responded after a moment, not taking his eyes away from his phone.

Now you felt uncomfortable. Before, in the arena, he was looking at you like he loved you, but now he was snappy and tense and worse than normal because his team lost without him being able to play.

Picking at the skin around your nails, you attempted scooting down the couch before just giving up and moving to stand. “Nevermind,” you said with a mutter, feeling withdrawn and defeated. If he didn’t want to open up to you, fine, but you didn’t deserve to have him take out his frustration on you.

At least, not like this.

Andrei didn’t even respond, furthering your feelings of bitterness towards the man you had so many feelings for. Wrapping your hands in the long sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing, you shuffled down the hallway and into the guest room you claimed as your own.

You could still hear the TV playing in the background, but that was the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You blinked the frustration from your eyes and crawled underneath the bed sheets, scrolling on your phone until you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Hours passed of restless tossing and turning, and then suddenly it was three in the morning and you were being woken up by countless knocks on your door.

“The fuck?” you muttered sleepily, crawling out of the cocoon of blankets you were in to answer your door. For whatever reason, your sleep-addled brain wasn’t able to comprehend that it was probably Andrei on the other side. “Andrei?” you said, confused as the Russian leaned against the wall.

He looked rather sheepish, slightly embarrassed. His hair was ruffled, and the TV was still playing so he probably fell asleep on the couch.

“Oh, shit,” you said, suddenly realizing that he was probably here because he needed help. Of course. That was all it was. “I’m such an idiot, sorry,” you breathed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you stepped out of the room. “C’mon, I’ll help you get in bed.”

Andrei stopped you with a hand, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find words. “No, that is not it.” he finally settled on.

Okay, now you were curious. “Huh?”

“I am sorry.”

What?

“For what?” You asked, staring up at him wide-eyed. You were honestly too tired for a heavy conversation like this so you were struggling to keep up.

Andrei swallowed the lump in his throat. His leg was currently throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his heart as he looked at you. Your hair was all over the place in the most endearing way, and your eyes were droopy in a way that told him you were just sleeping.

“For not treating you right, for—” He cut himself off, sighing in frustration. Why was English so complicated? If only you understood English. “English is stupid.” he muttered, then released a big sigh and steeled his resolve.

Stepping closer, he brought the two of you chest-to-chest and brought his arms to cage you against the wall.

And you, you meanwhile, let out the most embarrassing noise possible when he suddenly got close, and then Andrei was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His body was trapping you in, and while your senses were on overdrive you strangely enough didn't feel like fleeing.

“Andrei?” You squeaked, sinking further into the wall if it was possible. Your eyes dropped, finding the center of his chest to firmly set your gaze. His eyes were so dark, intimidating, and swimming with an intention you were nervous to find out. “What are you doing?”

“Look at me, please?” A large hand smoothed against your skin, gently tilting your head up. Your eyes automatically locked with his, and the emotion on his face had you gasping. “There’s my girl,” He said.

Okay, yeah, your body was frozen, the breath leaving your lungs in a torrent of sharp breaths. This… This was new territory, for the both of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how Andrei looked so calm while you looked like a startled deer—an unattractive one, at that.

He started speaking, heart thundering while the words poured from his throat like warm, melted butter. “I’m in love with you. You are my person, I knew from the very first moment I saw you in that bar so many months ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but tonight, having you next to me… You’ve always been next to me, and I’ve taken advantage of that. Darling, I want to make up for all the times I never kissed you senseless, and I want nothing more than to have you as mine, and I yours.”

Your favorite music, your favorite voice, words so filled with emotion and yet you couldn’t even understand him as he looked at you like you were his sun, and he a plant desperately seeking your warmth. Andrei had only spoken in Russian a handful of times in front of you – most being curses or quips exchanged with Pyotr – and never had he spoken so much of it.

You’d always thought Russian was rather harsh. The sharp whistles, clicks of the tongue, hissing of certain words; you admired anyone who could speak it, but it had never been an easy language to listen to you. But, when Andrei spoke Russian… It was soft, almost musical, and expressive to the point you felt like you could understand the very subject at hand if you thought about it. Maybe you were just biased, but you swore you fell more in love with him every time he spoke it.

“No words?” he said, a grin on his face that made you realize you’d maybe been silent for a little too long.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You were breathless— literally.

“I show you, then, what I said,” Andrei brushed his fingers against the side of your neck, almost fully grasping it as he gently brought you closer. You had no complaints, though. “Yes?”

He said your name again, looking at you with those warm eyes so full of depth they hypnotized you and had you nodding yes, almost instinctively.

Andrei sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on you only slightly as he slid his hand around the back of your head. Your lips were slightly parted, shiny and red from where you’d been biting them previously, and that cupid’s bow that always drove him crazy when you smiled was quirked upwards as if it was asking him to kiss you.

He waited a moment, stared into your eyes, his fingers merely a whisper of a touch against your cheek, and finally took the leap. The first touch of his lips was shy, testing, but then you whimpered with need and tugged at his shirt to bring him closer and Andrei had an internal moment of fuck it where he realized just how crazy he was for you. Pressing you into the wall, he nipped at your bottom lip and was granted entrance with a gasp drowned out by the sound of his own groan. He put every ounce of his passion and love and relief into this kiss as if trying to convince you to stay because this, this here? It was worth it—you were worth it. Fireworks, electricity, butterflies, and everything all at once was igniting in your gut and caused you to let out a pathetic whimper the moment your lips finally detached. He was clearly skilled at this, wholeheartedly controlling the moment as his lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin that met your collarbone.

“‘Drei,” you gasped, clutching the hair right at his scalp – when did you move your arms around his neck? – as he sucked a mark under your jaw. “Hm?” he hummed, not stopping with his ministrations.

“What,” you said, throat dry and raspy as you tried to speak over the sound of your beating heart. “What did you say— oh,”

Andrei’s grin was almost feral as he drew the beautiful sound from your lips. “Found it,” he said, voice full of pride as he brushed his fingers against the newly-found sweet spot on your neck.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed his head in between your hands, bringing his head to yours so you could press a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips before pulling back to gather your thoughts because you had a lot of them.

Andrei pouted the moment you pulled him away but respected your boundaries and merely rested his hands on your waist to keep you close. He said your name gently, his tone bordering on questioning. “Did I… Did I push too far?” he said.

“No, no, not at all,” you rushed to correct him, already having caught the guilt in his eyes. “I just want to know what you said earlier, before you— you know.” It felt almost taboo to say ‘before you kissed the life out of me’, not wanting to break this delicate balance you found yourself in.

The Russian hummed, already catching on to your bashfulness and deciding to tease you for it. “No, darling, I think you need to remind me,” he brought a hand up to loosely wrap around your neck, the contact keeping you grounded. “On what I did before what?”

“Andrei,” you said, immediately dropping eye contact as your face flushed red. “You’re being a tease,” you muttered.

He dipped his head, brushing your lips together as he spoke. You felt his breath against your skin and had the sudden desire to taste him again. “I can do this all night, but the question is can you?”

You gave up at that because the moment he spoke he drew back and you couldn’t stand the feeling of not having him close to you anymore. “Andrei,” you sucked in a breath. “What did you say before you kissed me? In Russian?”

“I love you,” Andrei didn’t miss a beat as he crept his other hand farther up your waist. “That is mostly what I said. And more.”

“More?” you squeaked out as he drew closer.

The hockey player hummed, then suddenly stepped back and grabbed your hand. “Much more,” he confirmed. “Now—bed?” Short, sweet, and to the point Andrei always was…

Just one of the many things you loved about him.

Twenty minutes later you lay in Andrei’s bed, swallowed in another one of his shirts, and curled into his chest. His arm was wrapped around your waist, stroking gentle circles into the skin exposed to the room. It was silent, null except for the steady hum of the air conditioning and the gentle breathing of two humans reveling in each other’s presence.

“I miss it,” he said, suddenly speaking up. You lifted your head only slightly from his chest, already missing the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. “Hockey. And I miss playing with my brothers.”

Brothers. Your heart broke at hearing the longing in his voice, because every single player on the team he played with was his family, in one way or another, and now he was being forced to watch them play the sport he had no chance of helping them win.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.

“I know, Andrei,” was what you finally settled on. Your voice was soft, gentle, trying to convey your understanding with actions rather than words. You drew tiny circles on his chest, taking pride in the way goosebumps rose in your fingers’ wake. “I know.”

He tightened his grip on you, holding you closer to him as if he were afraid you’d disappear. “Will you be here?” he suddenly asked, frowning. Andrei knew he was being slightly irrational, feeling so vulnerable, but he really hadn’t felt secure in himself since first tearing his ACL.

What was his purpose in life, really, if not to play hockey and have you with him?

You hadn’t yet spoken, so he quickly clarified. “In the morning. And all the mornings after.”

A smile broke across your face as you buried your head into his chest. You felt the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and then he shifted to where you were laying on top of his chest so he could see your face. “All the mornings, huh?” you asked, feeling bashful.

Andrei grinned, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth, knowing the effect he had on you. “Every one,” he replied. “If you will have me.”

“There’s nothing I want more.”

And you meant it, truly, with every fiber of your being. The next months were going to be rough, the ones where you’d have to be there for Andrei as he watched his team ultimately compete and fall through in the playoffs especially.

But you knew the two of you could do it. Andrei was nothing if not committed, even through all the arguments, tears, and emotional breakdowns, you were there for each other through the long haul.

And Andrei, meanwhile, after many difficult months down the road, had the biggest smile on his face as the doctors told him it was a miracle.

Because he had healed from his ACL injury in five.

fin

A/N: Before my medical professionals come at me, YES I KNOW acl injuries take up to a year to recover from almost all of the time, but for the sake of this fic just pls ignore that little fact 😭 in all seriousness though, I can’t wait till our favorite Russian gets to play again bc I miss him sm. As always, please leave likes, reblogs, and comments. Ily all <33

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pedgito · 2 years

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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 pt. iii ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: through the days and weeks that pass after, your friendship becomes more complicated, imploding in on itself. fortunately, eddie wasn't going to let you go that easy.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering/sex/all that jazz, babes, brief use of cuffs, innocence!kink, mentions of hard relationship with parents (reader), lots of teasing and some cheesy angsty with a spice of fluff. if this is all over the place, i'm sorry.

word count: 8.8k — part one, part two

Your parents start to ask about the wild-haired kid who constantly picks you up for school every morning now; it was something Eddie insisted on after realizing that not only did you not ride the bus or bike to school, you’d been walking for the past few years, school more than a mile away from your home–you’d been lying to him for a while about it, but it was harder to ignore now. You didn’t have the luxury of a car or parents that could drive you to school every morning. Eddie was having none of that, even despite your pending graduation, he wanted to make an effort where it counted the most—even with the littlest things.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You complain to your parents, almost on a daily occurrence, watching as they eye the suspicious change in attitude and demeanor. You were happier, more carefree—it wasn’t completely one-eighty, but it was noticeable, “He’s just a guy I play Dungeons and Dragons with—we’re in the same grade.”

If that wasn’t already problem enough; the constant bickering and complaining from them about how bad of an influence that game was on kids—it was harmless, but the media had created quite the frenzy around it and your parents sucked it right up, spewing it back at you.

Eddie was never just some guy, either, and you wanted him so badly it pained you—it changed gradually, over the past few weeks he’d somehow charmed you even more. It started with the rides, sharing snacks with you at lunch, spending more and more time together after school at his designated smoke spot, watching quietly as he partook in the activities you chose to sit out on, despite how quickly he had begun to corrupt you and nightly phone calls had soon become a ritual.

They were truly sacred.

Eddie’s almost unhinged, the way he speaks to you now; the barrier of the phone giving him all the courage he needs to say what he feels, the deepest and dirtiest thoughts he holds back, always too terrified to say them to your face. It’s not like you cared (even if you totally did), you two weren’t a thing—whatever you had, it wasn’t special, but it was needed.

It made things easier now, having explored each other’s bodies to a certain extent; you could picture him, his hands, everything. You never had an orgasm now that wasn’t caused or led by Eddie, in one way or another. Eddie didn’t need you to confess that to him, it was pathetically obvious.

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” You wonder, voice high pitched and breathless, fingers buried deep inside your cunt, working tirelessly toward your own orgasm. “Want me to suck you off, Eddie?”

He groans, low and guttural—the harsh and filthy word leaving your lips was so unlike you; it always made Eddie feel some type of way. He wasn't sure how far you were willing to go, but he was learning more and more about you each day.

All the nastiest fantasies that you thought about—wanted him to do to you.

“Fuuuck,” He drags out, pussy clenching around your fingers at the sound of him desperately tugging at his dick over the receiver, phone resting lazily on his chest, moving with every staggering breath he took, “gotta get you on your knees, staring up all innocent and shit, those fucking eyes—“

He grunts, squeezing at the base of his dick.

One thing about Eddie, he enjoyed the edging. It was almost a game to him, how quickly he could bring himself to the brink, forcing himself into a full stop, still managing to maintain enough composure to help you toward your own. He almost never came before you. Almost.

“You fall apart so pretty,” You coo, gasping at a particular curl of your own fingers, before pulling the soaked digits out to drag over your swollen, sensitive clit, “love watching you come, Eddie.”

He mumbles a small ‘uh huh’, his mind momentarily elsewhere, mind hazy with thoughts to force himself from releasing too fast.

“Wanna know what you taste like,” Eddie nearly chokes at that, “it’s only fair, right? I mean, you’re the one that got to have all the fun last time.”

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He grits out, continuing his quick, harsh flicks of his wrist, gripping himself to the point of pain, nearly, “like honey, shit’s addicting.”

One taste and he was hooked; it was a drug.

“Gonna come, Eddie—wanna hear you.” You beg, voice broken and needy, fingers rubbing quick circles over the squishy bead, forcing your hand over your mouth as you nearly yelled, that pleasure high sneaking up on you quickly, orgasm hitting you with full force.

And it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard, how easily he just decides to let go, groaning openly into the phone. You can’t help but blush, knowing very well that it was all you—he couldn’t get enough.

“Oh, fuck,” He whines softly. You can hear the soft jingle of his leathered, chain bracelet as it rattles against his skin, milking his dick for all it’s worth. Eddie always makes a huge mess, having learned from his past mistakes that it was much easier to do this shirtless, “I don’t think I’ve came that hard in a while.” He admits after a long silence, still trying to catch his breath.

You giggle softly into the phone, adjusting and pulling the covers of your bed over you. He’s rustling around on his end, cleaning up his chest with, probably, another random article of clothing—then lets out a loud ‘oof’.

“Good to know I’ve still got it.” You joke, smiling wide, despite the fact that Eddie would never see it.

He only wanted to make you happy, it was a crime that he couldn’t see how easily he was capable of doing it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you ever lost it.”

You make a small noise of indifference, “I can only work with so much—since I’ve never had sex before.”

He doesn’t comment on it, at least not audibly.

Eddie’s thought about it plenty, but doesn’t harp on the fact as much anymore. It used to be a big, lingering thing between you both—but eventually it faded into the distance, more about how much you both enjoyed each other and the company you kept, how easy it was to indulge in what you wanted; no worry or shame.

“I aced Kaminsky’s test, by the way,” Eddie adds, a familiar flick of his lighter on the other end, speech mumbled by the cigarette tucked between his lips, “then he tried to accuse me of cheating.”

“Eddie—you did,” You laugh, remembering how he begged you for the answers, though, the payment was definitely worth it; Eddie really enjoyed going down on you, “and you’re welcome.”

“Hey, I put in some work,” He defends feebly, “You came twice.”

“Okaaay,” You interrupt, knowing that if you continued down that path, it would be hard for both of you to stop, and you were too exhausted to keep things going, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Eddie couldn’t wipe the smug smile off of his face the rest of the night.

—

And despite Eddie’s vehement protests, you were becoming just as bad of an influence as he was. It’s exactly why he cancels Hellfire the following Friday, making up some lame excuse about how Wayne really needed his help with something; it was important and Eddie couldn’t do that to his uncle—aside from the fact that Wayne didn’t need him at all.

Eddie was on a high that day, particularly naughty for no reason at all—the quick touches to your waist, lingering fingers his hand rested against the back of your neck, or he’s undying need to press himself up against your back as he passed through the busy hallway—he was at least semi-hard almost the entire school day, doing everything he could to drive you absolutely mad. Unfortunate for him, it had.

“Huh uh,” You shook your head, shoved into the dark confines of the theater room—the others still had a while before they would arrive, but you were determined to not let him slide, not this time. Your hand is fisted in the front of his worn Hellfire Club shirt, his back crowded against the wall, “You’re going to tell them to go home.”

“What?” Eddie balks, eyes wide and hands thrown out to his side in disbelief, “I can’t do that!”

He was still willing to put up a fight.

“Fine,” You say, releasing your steady grip on him. His face quickly morphs to puzzled as he watches you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” He asks, hand wrapping around your bicep gently. “Sweetheart…”

His words linger, the words he needs to say never coming to fruition. You smile sickeningly sweet, running a finger over the wide expanse of his rings.

You nod, staring down at his fingers as they gripped you tighter, “Actually, give me your rings.” You say suddenly, eyes glancing up to him. You half expect him to refuse, but he doesn’t. Eddie hands them over so easily that you’re a little stricken by it, but that wasn’t going to deter your efforts.

You grasp the chunky rings in your palm and pocket them.

Eddie watches closely as you lean toward him, all sense of personal space out the window, lips barely grazing his own, “Now—I’m gonna go home, put these on, and fuck myself with my fingers until I’m coming all over them.” Eddie pales at the admission.

“So, rain check?” You smile innocently, “And I’ll bring these bad boys back to you in a couple days?” You pat at the stuffed pocket.

Eddie would have to wait the entire weekend and that just wouldn’t do.

“You’re so fucking evil,” Eddie complains, the slightest hint of smirk crossing his face. He enjoyed the game, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. You’d become increasingly more relaxed, willing to bend the rules—though, he was really regretting it now. He tosses you his keys in defeat, “Go start the van.”

You giggle proudly, catching the keys.

Fortunately, the group didn’t care much about Eddie canceling.

—

Eddie still had an edge to him the moment you arrived at his trailer. He wasn’t angry, or mad—but definitely frustrated. The lingering tension between you had been growing by the day and it was finally coming to a head.

Eddie bites at the inside of your thigh in warning, causing you to squeal out in response, shoving gently at his head. “What the fuck?” You ask, vocabulary becoming more and more colorful the longer you hang out with him. “That wasn’t nice.”

“You want nice?” Eddie asks teasingly, face so close to your cunt, just a inch forward and he’d be there, mouth buried against you. It was a dangerous game of back and forth you’d both been playing that day, both of you determined to come out on top. ‘Nice like how you made me cancel Hellfire today?”

You try to interrupt, but Eddie pulls your thighs wider, bordering on slightly uncomfortable. The dynamic between you both was—-well, tense, at times. It was either perfect and quaint and just a means to relieve tension, but other times; it was a dangerous game of cat and mouse, one of you bound to lose miserably.

You gasp softly, eyes following his intense gaze, “Nice like how you made me walk around all day half-hard, knowing that I couldn’t do anything about it?” There’s bits behind his words, mostly frustrated with himself, rather than you.

“Does that seem nice to you?” He asks.

“And you think it’s okay to touch me the way you do?” You ask carefully, eyes wandering to the fingers wrapped firmly around your thighs, digging into the soft flash, “In front of everyone?”

He knew people were watching, that was the problem. It felt like he was making a spectacle out of you; not that it was a bad thing, but you enjoyed the secrecy and privacy within your friendship. You didn’t have to explain anything to anyone—who cares if you liked to mess around with your best friend? It wasn’t anyone’s business but yours—but when eyes started to wander and pry, that’s what was harder to deal with.

You were both entirely too pent up with frustration, but also undoubtedly riddled with sexual tension, ready to jump each other at any moment—still, you weren’t ready. You couldn’t bring yourself to cross that line.

It wasn’t because you were scared or worried—you knew the moment you agreed or caved, it became real, and you couldn’t handle the idea of being in love with Eddie, having such a strong relationship with him, all for it to fall apart because of one silly little encounter that could make or break your friendship. This wasn’t just sex for Eddie—even when he was frustrated or annoyed, he still managed to have all the amount of tenderness one could hold.

“Just—stop,” You sigh, forcing yourself away from him, sitting up in his bed, “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Things had ramped up quickly since the night at the lake—which wasn’t only Eddie’s fault. You both shared the blame equally, but it was starting to catch up to you; you didn’t know how to handle it.

Eddie reaches out gently, rubbing your knee with his fingers. Even his touch burned, but not in the way you liked. It was all too overwhelming right now, you wanted to hide. “Hey, I’m sorry—I thought we were playing into it, you know?”

“Being mean to each other?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “Teasing, maybe. But, I was never trying to be mean—you remember when we agreed not to tell anyone about this?”

Eddie nods slowly, hands still glued to your knee—you wanted to push it away, but you also never wanted it to leave.

“People watch us all the time—you make it worse when you touch me the way you do.” You breathe through your nose, “Friends don’t touch each other like that, Eddie.”

“Who cares?”

Eddie was on a completely different wavelength, so blinded by how much he cared for you, that it didn’t matter who was around.

“I do.” You didn’t understand why it wasn’t clicking—why he couldn’t see how much it bothered you. That’s why you tried to mask it so hard at school, play it off like a game. Even if Eddie felt the same way you did—which was impossible, because it was. It just was. There wasn’t a need for explanation. You were his friend, but you were also a convenience, at least that’s how it felt.

Despite how kind Eddie was, friend or not, this was bound to end horribly.

“Then what—do you want to stop?” Eddie asks, the smallest hint of surprise in his tone; he didn’t understand where any of this was coming from. He couldn’t understand what he did wrong.

“Not stop,” You explain, “Maybe…take a break?”

Like this was a relationship; you were very well aware that it was not.

Eddie chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, quiet for longer than you’re used to, trying to absorb everything you were saying. He felt terrible, like he’d pushed you too far. But the truth of that matter was, he just couldn’t help himself—he wanted to be around you as often as possible, as much as you would let him—but you weren’t ready, and even if he wanted you to be, he wasn’t going to force you.

He’d wait as long as it took for you to realize.

“Okay,” He agrees, his voice soft. “Did you want me to take you home?”

And truthfully, that’s the last thing on your mind. You just wanted your friend, without all the complicated strings attached. Just Eddie.

“No,” You shake your head slightly, “Can we just—-lay here for a while, maybe?”

Eddie always provides just the right amount of care you need, it’s a deep reminder of how special he was to you. Regardless of everything else, he was the only source of comfort you had right now.

You never go home that night and that’s what starts it all.

The fight with your parents the next morning is entirely your fault; nothing but a simple mistake to some, but to your parents—it was an atrocity, Eddie never stopped apologizing, even after they rarely let you leave the house—a month, two months; school, Hellfire, then home.

Your situation with Eddie dwindled quickly in the aftermath.

—

Eddie doesn’t call as often either, not for more than a few minutes—sometimes it’s questions about his campaign or questions for homework; it’s almost like none of it ever happened. You can’t blame him, though—your tone is so miserable that he starts to believe that he’s the problem.

You start walking to school again, as much as Eddie hates to watch. But, he knows your sense of pride—you weren’t going to ask him, not after how badly things went with your parents. You never talked about it and he didn’t ask—he couldn’t.

And you seemed like a different person, most of the time. Though, you still smiled at his jokes—he was calling that a win. And you did get to see him everyday, which was nice, but it wasn’t like before—it would never be like before.

You try desperately to ignore how badly you want to be around him, with him, surrounded by him. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you and makes you feel small. There were times when you wanted to reach out and grab his hand, just hold a part of him—but even that felt foreign now.

So when it does happen, it’s a shock to your system.

Everyone’s saying their goodbyes before the illusive Winter Break, talking about their big plans—but none of it really matters to you.

You parents always go on some big extravagant getaway around their anniversary—which you didn’t mind, it was actually sweet, seeing two people that were still so head over heels for each other; sweet enough to make you sick, in some regards. But, it meant you spent most of your time cooped up alone in your house, with nothing to do, no one to hang out with—it was lonely and you hated it.

“Princess,” The word tugs at your heart, a flood of memories hitting you at once, “any big plans for the holiday?”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Not a single one.” You tell him, watching as he leaned his shoulder against the wall beside you, leaned closely into your space—not enough to make you want to back away, though you’re not sure you would even if he did move closer. “Just a big, boring, empty house to myself for two weeks—my own personal hell.”

“That’s the perfect time to throw a total rager, you know.” He’s joking and it does make you laugh, but he can still see that something is clearly off.

“What about you?” You ask curiously, “Did you and Wayne manage to put the Christmas tree up before Christmas Eve this year?”

“Surprisingly—yeah,” He says through a short, chortled laugh. “Right after Thanksgiving, actually. You’d be proud.”

Your smile is forced, pulled together in a tight line.

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t even think twice, before pulling you to his chest, your arms wrapping him out of instinct, tugged snugly underneath his jacket, the warmth of his skin radiating through his thin raglan shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie apologizes too much and it’s a horrible habit.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You say softly, squeezing him just a bit tighter, forcing yourself to remember this moment; it was the only recent memory you had of being close to him, you weren’t going to let yourself forget it.

It’s the first time he’s heard you say his name in a while; less condescending than usual, more endearing and genuine. He knew you meant it—he knew you were okay, but it still didn’t help that he was fighting every day to not just admit everything to you—it wasn’t what you needed, not right now.

Besides, he wasn’t sure if you would even care. It had been so long, why would any of it matter now?

—-

And by now, no one ever calls you but Eddie. So when the phone rings, it’s an automatic: “Yeah?” Through a voice sick with last night’s sleep, the rising sun peeking through your window.

“Are you busy today?” His voice is incredibly chipper for as early as it was—which, you weren’t even sure of the time.

“Eddie—what time is it?” You ask slowly, rubbing at your eyes, blurry with sleep.

“Seven.”

“In the morning?” You ask incredulously, head slumping against the pillow. “If it’s about the campaign, you can call me later.”

“No, no,” He rushes out, feeling the impending click he was about to receive, thus ending his chances at saying what he wanted to say; the whole reason he had even called in the first place, “It’s not that.”

It’s been two weeks since he’s talked to, seen you, it all felt too strange. The jackhammering beat of his heart behind his ribcage is enough to scare him out of saying anything, but he knows if he doesn’t get it out now, he’ll never be able to.

And maybe he should’ve called later, regretting having woken you up—and always lessen the time he had to feel dejected if you actually rejected him; he couldn’t tell where your head was at anymore, not that he really could before.

The silence that lingers is enough of a clue, triggering you to speak before Eddie does, “Did you want to come over?” You ask suddenly—it dawns on you that he’s never even been in your home. You knew the inside of his trailer like that back of your hand—it was cozier than your own home, more personal. The endless wall of mugs that Wayne loved to talk about, the littered baby pictures of Eddie strung around the place, always being held by a much younger Wayne—there was love there; complete opposite from what you felt at home.

Old you would’ve been terrified out of your mind to sneak a boy into your home—but at this point, you can’t be bothered to care. It’s almost like your parents were asking for it, leaving you alone like this; and if this was how you went out, you’d be content with it. Though, they were several miles away, so, there was no harm in trying.

“Uh, yeah—yeah, sure.” Eddie tries to reply calmly, lamely hiding his immediate eagerness.

“Good,” You smile, “Bring snacks.”

Eddie spends almost twenty minutes fighting an internal battle over Twizzlers or chocolate, because for the life of him—he can’t remember which one you like more. He buys both.

—

When he does finally arrive, he’s standing at the door with his trademark grin, bags held out beside his head and it’s almost like none of all that bad shit ever happened.

“There any Twizzlers in those bags?” You ask suspiciously, almost like he’d lose his free pass inside if there weren’t

“I knew it!” He laughs, gently tossing the bag in your direction. “I also got those little chocolates you like, the tiny ones wrapped in foil and—“

A kiss on his cheek is the last thing he’s expecting, before being promptly pulled past the threshold of your front door.

He’s confused, eyeing you like you’d grown a second head.

“A kiss for the kisses, right?” You say coyly, “I’ll still pay you back, don’t worry.”

“Oh, no—no, it’s fine.” Eddie says, very adamant in his refusal, “It was just pocket change, I’m not worried.”

A silence settles over you both, leading him to the large couch in your living room. He’s never been in a house so spacey, not squeezed and filled to the brim with furniture.

“I won’t say no to kisses, though.”

It was so easy to settle into old habits.

You laugh to yourself, placing the snacks on the small table set in the center of the room. “All out of those now too, unfortunately.”

Eddie’s dressed so casually it almost shocks you—a secondhand sweater that was definitely Wayne’s at one point or another, worn at the collar and a muted black that has been run through the washing machine one too many times, despite the tag's insistent warning to hand wash only—matched with a pair of ripped black jeans and his favorite Reeboks. But now he’s just standing there, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly.

He wouldn’t let anyone else catch him like this. They’d be dead the moment they saw him. Especially with the way he tucked his hair behind his ears, you could swoon at the sight—but you knew well enough to keep your composure.

And comparatively, you were dressed in something similar, opting for sweatpants rather than jeans, choosing to be huddled up on the couch by the fireplace tucked in the wall of your living room—Hawkin’s winters were brutal.

“Sit,” You motioned toward the couch, shoving a continuously replayed copy of Risky Business into the VHS player, “stop acting so weird.”

He quirks any eyebrow at the movie choice, toeing off his shoes to rest his feet atop the table, arm slung over the back of the couch, “That one, really?”

“Oh, fucking can it, Eddie.” You warn, tossing the cardboard cover to the ground and starting the movie.

Eddie huffs a short laugh, his gaze following you until you’re placed opposite of him, pointedly putting enough space between you both—neither of you needed the mixed signals.

Though, you were the one that invited him over in the first place. There wasn’t any real reasoning behind it—you missed him, that was it. It didn’t matter that you were desperately in love with the boy.

He hits the side of your foot with his own sock covered one, tossing you the bag of snacks. Stubbornness be damned, you were still going to enjoy the sweets he bought for you.

When he sneaks his hand into the bag of chewy red ropes, you almost gasp, watching as he brings the candy to his lips and pulls, yanking off a small piece.

“What are you doing?” You ask, watching Eddie’s eyes peek over at you.

This man has never touched a Twizzler in his life and decided to start now?

“Eating?” Wasn’t it obvious? He takes another small bite. He’s clearly putting some force behind the swallow.

“You hate Twizzlers.” You remind him, pulling the candy from his hand.

“But you love them.” He offers, like it’s a cure all.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You chuckle fondly, shoving the bags to the side, “I have popcorn and drinks—you don’t have to put yourself through that much misery to hang out with me.”

The smile that Eddie cracks is a win for you.

“Thank god,” He sighs in relief, “Would you mind?”

After all is said and done, he’s sitting even straighter, digging into the bowl of popcorn like a man starved. You try not to think about it; how easily he would’ve suffered through something so easily fixed, just to be around you. And he could’ve easily bought something for himself, but he was so focused on what you’d wanted that he forgot entirely.

—

Candy forgotten, you’ve both got your hands shoved into the bowl of popcorn, eating absently through random questions:

“What about Tom Cruise?” Eddie asks curiously, going down his long list of compiled men that he knew you had to be attracted—at least one.

“Mmm, no.” You disagree, shaking your head furiously. He chuckles at the face you make, mocking the way your nose scrunches up in disgust.

“Yeah, I didn't think so.” He agrees. “Doesn’t seem like your type.”

“My type?” You ask, curiosity peaked. “Oh, honey—do tell. What is my type then?”

If Eddie is bothered by the endearment, he doesn’t show it.

He shrugs; not wanting to answer the question outright. He was the one who brought it up, so of course you were going to press him on it. You couldn’t recall ever having a type—aside from Eddie, but that had nothing to do with how he looked, not that he wasn’t already beautiful in his own right, but you can remember a time you’ve ever felt so pulled toward someone because of the way they looked; it was impossible.

“Uh, guys with long hair, you know.” He explains, hands moving animatedly as he talks, motion at his own hair. “Really good at guitar, killer music taste—“

You see what he’s trying to do, but you’re not letting him off that easily.

“Oh yes—Eddie Van Halen is pretty cute, now that I think about it.” You make a thoughtful face, bottom lip jutting out as you pondered, but the only person you really had in mind was your Eddie.

And Eddie has those sick, puppy dog eyes at the sudden admission, thinking you’ve missed the point completely.

“But, I guess my Eddie isn’t so bad either.”

It doesn’t immediately register with your own brain when you say it, a mindless thought slipping through your mouth unfiltered.

His eyebrows skyrocket to the ceiling, watching your cheeks blush the deepest shade of red. You face feels hot, your body feels hot, and you really can’t believe you just fucking said that.

“I mean—“ You fumble through your words, deciding on a lame, “You know what I mean.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, grin growing wider on his face—savoring in your slip up.

“Shut up.” You shove him, placing both your hands against his chest in an effort to throw him—wipe the stupid smile off his face, “Shut your face up right now or I swear to—“

Eddie’s hands grip the length of your wrists, wrapping around loosely, but it’s enough to keep him from falling back; unfortunately, it pulls you closer.

“Swear to what?” Eddie presses, watching you with those mesmerizing brown eyes, even you couldn’t pull your gaze away.

“Eddie,” You warn him, pulling gently at the hold he has on you. He doesn’t budge, “let go.” And still, your voice is too unconvincing.

“Do you really want me to?” Eddie asks.

No. Fuck, no. You want to say the memories flood back to you, but they’ve been there the entire time; your entire friendship with Eddie had been built on trust—trust in each other that there was never any judgment, even before everything got complicated, he was still, very much, the only person you could rely on and regardless of what happens here or after, he was never going to be out of your life, not really.

“Whatever’s going on in that head of yours,” He speaks again, realizing how distant you were—he could see how hard your brain was working to come up with something, anything to get yourself out of what you really wanted to say, “just say it.”

“We can’t.” You tell him. Eddie doesn’t need to be a genius to figure that out, but nevertheless, his grip still remains. “Is that why you called earlier?”

“It feels weird not being around you,” Eddie confesses, “and I fucking hate it.”

He hates that he can’t get you out of his head, as hard as he tried. This was all his fault anyways; turning nothing into something. It all started as a game—and Eddie never really expected it to go as far as it did, but it left him wanting more and more, until he just wanted you. He didn’t want you as a friend, he wanted you as everything that came with that, but more.

He wanted to hold you when you were upset, but still be offered the same sentiment. He wanted to kiss you in front of his friends, without you constantly fearing the judgement—he wanted to introduce himself to your parents properly, and then maybe they wouldn’t hate him so much. Eddie wanted you in every way conceivably possible. He’s never done relationships, they weren’t his thing; but for you, he wanted it.

And what started of as a silly, stupid little crush he had on you in the beginning, even before he made those choices on the phone, it was always there—but, it had grown out of control.

“I know,” You reply quietly, “I miss you—it, everything.”

You don’t elaborate, but Eddie knows.

“I’m sorry my parents hate you,” Eddie watches the way you talk to your hands and his grip loosens, hands settling on the side of your thigh, where your leg rested against the couch, tucked between the both of you, other foot planted against the cushion, knee up near your face, “and I’m sorry that I was so scared of it.”

“Of what?”

“Being with you—I know that’s what you wanted.” And it’s the first time you feel like you can breathe, Eddie however, is now feeling just as small. “And the problem is—I hate how long I’ve wanted it too.”

Eddie wants to say something, but the words are stuck in his throat. His hand squeezes at the squishy flesh of your thigh, a comforting gesture, still quiet as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“And I mean like, being your girlfriend—not just being with you, physically.” You reach for his fingers, intertwining them with your own. He still got his chunky rings on, the jewelry like an extension of himself. “Not that I don’t want that either—I just, I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with this anymore.”

Fortunately, Eddie does—and to put you out of your endless misery, not knowing how to make the doubtful thoughts stop, he kisses you.

It’s not long or drawn out, either—it’s short and sweet and exactly what you need in that moment.

“I’m not asking you to label anything,” Eddie explains, “I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want, even if it’s in front of people we know.”

And it shouldn’t make you laugh, but it does.

“Or hug you, at least. We haven’t been friends for a while, princess—I think that’s pretty fucking obvious.”

Blatantly, in fact.

Eddie didn’t care about labels. He cared about you.

—

He does kiss you square on the mouth the first morning back at school another couple weeks later, for all of your friends to see—and you really can’t help yourself either, going back in for a second kiss when you realize just how mortified they all look; maybe it wasn’t all so bad. Your parents however, that was a different situation.

It was another obstacle to tackle at another time—maybe never, if it was up to you. Either way, it’s put on the back burner for the sake of your sanity, because there was no other outcome in sight aside from literal house arrest—it was exactly what happened last time.

And while you could easily disagree and pull the adult card, it was easier to ignore it for now. You enjoyed the blissful ignorance for what it was, no need to ruin the one good thing in your life.

“Are we still on for tonight?” Eddie asks, jacket tossed over his shoulder lazily. You nod, a cheeky grin spreading across your face.

“They think I’m spending the night with Robin, so we’re in the clear.”

You owed Robin for the rest of fucking eternity for this.

“You know, you could just tell them.” He offers, like it’s the simplest solution in the world. Tell them, risk being disowned, grounded until graduation—all out of love, they promised. But really, it was just another way to control you. It was never that simple.

“You’re so cute,” You reply, patting softly at his chest, “but no.”

And things fall back into place easily with Eddie, spread out over his lap on the old couch in his trailer, knees bracketing his hips. He’s playing with the front of your shirt, pulling at the tacky design that was falling from the cloth—

He thinks the first glide of your hips is a mistake, adjusting yourself on his lap more comfortably, until you do it again. And he’s been so deprived that he can’t find it in him to stop you, hands falling to your waist in defeat, gripping loosely.

“Don’t stop,” He breathed out, head falling against the back of the couch, mouth hung open partly as his eyes connected with the spot where your hips were working tirelessly, “please, don’t stop.”

You don’t know what brought it out of you; maybe it was the lack of physical touch for so long, or maybe you had just been lonely—regardless it’s the type of pleasure you find yourself getting lost in, barely in control of your own body.

Reaching for his hand, you guide him to cup over your clothed cunt, the barely there press of his palm enough to drive you insane. “Want you to fuck me, Eddie.”

“You serious, princess?” He asks softly, eyes half lidded but still locked on you, on your intertwined hands where they rested against your body. “We don’t have to—you know I’ll always wait until you’re okay with it.”

“I wouldn’t be telling you that if I didn’t want to.” He’s so precious it hurts, the way his smile stretches across his face; the same type of smile he has when he’s two blunts in and gone for the night, it’s a similar high, being with you.

—

Eddie closes the door to his bedroom with a soft click, immediately bounding for the bed, crawling his way toward you until he’s right over you, forcing himself between your legs carefully, swinging them up and over his hips until you’re clinging to him.

He kisses at the side of your stomach playfully, biting the tender flesh. You gasp softly, surprised by the nip. “Wanna try something?” Eddie asks suddenly, the idea popping into his head before he can force it out.

“Should I be worried?” You ask quizzically, watching as he pushes away from you, leaning toward the metal cuffs hanging from his wall. Your eyes widen in disbelief—and it’s not like you didn’t know he had them, they stuck out like a sore thumb, but Eddie also never made it a point to talk about them. Your innocent mind always assumed it was just decoration; odd choice, but you weren’t in any place to judge.

“Hey—only if you want to,” Eddie reminds, placing them in your hand for your own curiosity. They’re definitely real, cold and hard to the touch—you pull at the long chain that connects them, “it’s safe and I can always take them off if you don’t like it.”

And you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to see what it was all about, handing them back to Eddie with an eager nod. Eddie’s smile is warm, his touch gentle as he binds your hands in the contraption, leaning you back until your arms are resting over your head—your panties come next, lifting your hips in assistance as he slides them down your bare legs.

“This seems counterintuitive,” There’s too much slack to your wrists, a little constrained, but still moveable—it defeats the purpose.

“I usually don’t use them like that,” Eddie points out, a smug look on his face. He doesn’t want to elaborate, mostly because talking about other sexual encounters in the midst of another didn’t seem like the best idea, but they way your face widens in embarrassment, cheeks flushing a light shade of pink—it almost makes him want to explain, “I guess I’m trusting you to keep them up there for now—no touching, yeah?”

You giggle softly, watching Eddie crawl backwards until he’s settled between your legs, hands gripping the back of your thighs to push them apart and wide—and god, he’s missed this.

The first swipe of his tongue is long, hot, a trail of saliva up the seam of your pussy. You’d never get over how easily Eddie could work you up. He sucks delicately at your sensitive clit, using the grip he had on your legs to force you to squirm a little, his thumbs digging into the apex of your thighs.

The chains jingle slightly, instinctively spreading your arms apart at the motion. “Hey, not fair.” You gasp out, savoring in the way Eddie laughs against your cunt, mumbling a muffled, “That’s the point.”

Either way, it effectively shuts you and your rambling thoughts up, moaning unabashedly at the way Eddie worshiped you, the squelching sounds of your wetness the last thing you were worried about. His fingers rub along your folds teasingly, causing you to tense slightly. Eddie senses your nerves, pulling away to look at you.

“I’ll go slow,” He assures you, “Just be vocal with me, alright?”

Words—yeah, those were good. If only you could come up with some.

And the first dip of his finger is light, barely a pressure as he rubs it into your slick, wetting his finger. And it’s not like you’ve never had a finger inside of you before—they had been your own, of course, and that was precisely the problem. His middle finger slides in easily, not much resistance, but the stretch is nice.

He’s slow and attentive, watching the way your face scrunches in pleasure when he crooks his finger a certain way or rubs his tongue against your clit teasingly; he’s trying to drag this out, give you the time you need, but you really can’t handle it.

“More,” You beg, too aware of your lack of being able to touch him. You wanted to bury your hands in his curly mess of hair and press him into you; force him to give you exactly what you want, “want more, Eddie.”

The second finger is surprising, his so much larger than your own. “Are they?” Eddie asks suddenly, pulling you from deep concentration, not realizing you’d even spoken out loud.

“Fuller,” You note, hiccupping at a curl of his fingers, hitting something so deep inside of you that it’s almost a shock to your system, “bigger, definitely bigger.”

It seems to spur Eddie on, watching you thrash and moan, desperate as you fuck yourself against his own fingers, letting you chase your own pleasure at your own pace. “That’s it,” He encourages, the soft noises that escape you are enough to have him rutting against the bed, but he’s really struggling to control himself, “wanna watch you come on my fingers, princess.”

All over his rings, he thinks—just as you had teased him before. He takes the moment to tease you in return, “Never gonna take these fucking things off as long as they’re covered in you.”

“Eddie,” You whine out softly, begging, “just want you inside me, please?”

“Yeah?” He asks, his thumb ghosting over your swollen clit, small circles causing you to keen forward, hands struggling desperately now against the metal barrier, “Think you can take it, sweetheart?”

You nod desperately, moaning loudly at his assault on your sensitive bud, orgasm crashing over you like a wave. “Off, take them off.” You pant through the downfall, swinging the cuffs over your head. Eddie works quickly, using the resistance of the chain to pull you upright toward him, letting you out of them easily, like he’s done it a million times before—or practiced, at least. You pull him toward you in an instant, shirt yanked over his head in the process.

“Condom.” He reminds you, fumbling anxiously with his belt and pants. He nods toward his bedside table, “Grab it.”

Eddie’s still struggling with his pants even after you grab the small foil package. He’s just as unprepared and nervous as you are; it’s entirely too poetic.

“Hey, calm down,” You console him softly, looking up at him where he’s knelt in front of you, “we’re okay.”

And he wants to laugh at how stupid he feels—why did you need to be the one calming him down?

“I just don’t want to fuck this up for you.” Eddie admits.

It’s the last thing on your mind.

—

Eddie presses himself against your folds, dragging through the wetness slowly, a gentle, occasional rock of his hips, the tip of his cock sliding up against your clit each time. It took him a while to shut his thoughts down, but once he had you laid out before him, looking at him so wantonly, he was done for.

“Eddie.” It’s a plea, desperate and raw.

It’s met with a kiss; deep, meaningful, the press of his lips distracting you from the sting as he presses into you with the firm, ruddy tip of his cock. The gasp you let out against his mouth is obscene, but you can’t deny how good it feels to be stretched open by him. He gives a small, shallow thrust—a small nod of your head, then another, until he’s nearly bottomed out inside of you.

“Fuck.” You curse, lips sliding against his own in a mess fight of tongue and teeth.

“You okay?” He asks cautiously, pulling back to check your expression. You don’t realize how intimate it all is until you’re staring him down, his eyes scanning you carefully.

“Yeah,” You assure him with a soft smile. “You don’t have to be so careful, you know?”

Eddie lets out a small snort of amusement, rising on his legs until he’s upright, adjusting your legs until they’re skin securely over his hips, the weight of them resting in his palms. “Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.”

Eddie knew your limits and exactly what you were capable of—even sneakier than himself, sometimes. So he kicks it up a notch, spewing all types of lewd, filthy sounds out as he fucks into you steadily, hands resting against the tops of your thighs firmly, using the leverage to pull you back against him with every snap.

And it feels too fucking good.

“Thought you wanted to ruin me,” You snarked through the show he’s putting on, not that you weren’t enjoying it. He wasn’t faking in the slightest, absolutely wrecked by the sight of you stretched out over his cock, he’s never been so distracted in his life, “what happened to that?”

“I ruined you a long time ago, princess.” He says through bated breath, hips snapping harshly. “The moment you met me.”

You can’t argue either. It’s all true.

“Some pretty babe like you, wanting to fuck a freak like me?” It’s a redundant question, but the twinge in your heart hurts. Eddie was one of the most self-deprecating people you knew and it was unfortunate, because he was oblivious to just how good of a person he was; regardless of how he carried himself. “Feels fucking amazing.” He comments off-handedly, eyes locked on the point of connection, watching the way your cunt gripped him so shamelessly.

“Stop—stop talking about yourself like that.” You insist weakly, mewling at the pace he’d set, hands moving higher to rest along your hip bone, his thumbs pressing into the top of your pelvis, like he was trying to hold you there—not that you had any thought to move.

“Fuck, you feel that?” Eddie asks hotly, leaning forward so your knees are nearly pressed to your chest, creating an angle that’s almost unbearable.

You nod desperately, gasp ripping from your chest as he starts a rhythm of slow, deep thrust into you. You find something to hold, settling on the solid chain of his neck, watching as the pick bounced against your hand steadily. “Eddie, I’m gonna—“

“Yeah?” He eggs on, a smile splitting across his face, “you want to, huh?”

Never more in your life than right now, actually.

“Look so pretty this way,” He says, tone flooded with adoration and lust, “like you were made for me.”

You nod dumbly, willing to agree with anything now, so drunk on your own selfish pleasure that he could coerce you into just about anything.

“It’s so special, don’t you think?” Eddie asks, failing to keep his voice steady. He’s a mess of grunt and groans, so close to your face you can feel the breath from his mouth, his lips barely grazing your own. “No one’s had you—had you like this except for me.”

“Only you.” You agree, reveling in the groan that Eddie lets out into your own mouth, his grip fumbling to maneuver you closer, less twisted up as your legs fall to his hips again, letting him chase after his own orgasm, your body just another means to an end—though, it wasn’t ever going to be that for Eddie. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Want you to come with me, baby.” He tells you, guiding your own hand between the two of you, skin against skin and every touch felt like a shock to your body, a live wire of sexual current as it pulsed through you. You wanted to hear him say it again. Baby, baby, baby.

His hands find your face, gripping the side of it gently, slotting his own mouth of yours, tongue delving into uncharted territory. You weren’t sure if you enjoyed being kissed—or just being kissed by Eddie. He was never halfway about anything, forcing everything he had into whatever he was doing.

It’s the best, most heartbreaking feeling in the world—that he feels like he may lose you, even after all of this.

“Eddie.” You cry gently; it’s the only word you can cling to in moments like this.

“You’re okay,” He soothes, leaning back to lock eyes with you. You want to hide, shrink away into nothing, his gaze so intense and strong that it makes you full body blush, cunt ceasing around him in pleasure, “look at me.”

And you do, face squeezed gently between his hand as he holds you, watching you fall apart beneath him.

“Wanna watch you,” He murmurs against your lips, pulling back at the exact moment you feel yourself lose whatever control you thought you had, moaning lewdly into his mouth until you’re a shaking, mumbling mess, “fuck—I’m close, baby.”

Eddie uses it to urge himself on, grip tightening on your thigh as he pumps into you one last time, harsh and deep, coming with his face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut by how hard the peak of his orgasm hits him.

When you both finally come to, it’s a miracle; a soft exchange of laughs as the realization hits you. Eddie smooths the wild hair out of your face, kissing the very tip of your nose—it feels intimate, a flood of emotions hitting you all at once. You didn’t like this boy, you loved him; it scared the hell out of you.

—

“Cuddling?” You ask, watching as Eddie slings his arm over your middle, pulling you as close as possible. “You’re such a fucking sap.”

Eddie rubs his freshly showered face into the crook of your neck, wet hair slapping you in the face. “Does it bother you?” He laughs, leaving small, lingering pecks along the line of your neck, up behind your ear and into your hair, also wet.

“No.” You smile softly, turning your body until you’re fully snuggled into his shirtless chest, pressing your lips to the jugular notch of his neck, just between his collarbones.

“Good.” He says quietly, fingers winding into your hair, caressing the back of your neck.

Sleep hits Eddie quickly, or so you thought, the soft rumble of his snores like white noise, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

And the words hang on your lips, something you’ve thought over and fought with for weeks, months, the entirety of your friendship—you couldn’t help but love him, and even if you weren’t ready to say it to his face, you could say it to yourself, to this small space between you both, huddled against his resting body.

“I love you.”

It’s so quiet you don't even hear yourself say it—until you realize that it wasn’t you. You peer up at him, eyes still closed.

“I have for a while,” He admits, startling you further. He peeks an eye open, smiling at how mortified you look, “but I didn’t want to scare you—“

“I love you.” You say before you can talk yourself out of it, “I love you, too—and not just because of this, Eddie. I need you to know that.”

He does.

And he feels the impending ramble coming, but silences it with a kiss—so deep and intimate that you want to cry, pulling back with tear brimmed eyes.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” He reminds you, his voice hushed and quiet in the small space shared between you, “I’m always going to be here, no matter how you feel about me or how I feel about you.”

Eddie senses your anxiety, soothing the worry from your face, thumb smooth over your furrowed brow in a successful attempt to calm you.

“You’re stuck with me,” He tells you, full intention to never lose you, “for life, sweetheart.”

And if that was the case, it was fine with you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

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mitsies · 1 year

Text

; SUNBURN SZN! ; oliver aiku > in which, he'd be a fool to not appreciate a pretty swimsuit on a pretty girl.

oliver aiku's favorite thing about summer is the water.

it's not like he particularly enjoys the beach or the pool. he doesn't care much for the way the water feels against his skin, or how the salt or chlorine stiffened his hair.

no, none of that. oliver liked summer because of the swimsuits.

yeah, maybe this makes him kind of a weirdo, and kind of a creep. but it's not like he means it to be his favorite aspect- it kind of just happened.

it became his favorite summertime activity- to go to the beach with some friends, chat up a group of pretty girls, and take home the one whose outfit he liked the most. yeah, yeah, it's unethical and womanizing- he gets it. but these things happen when you're a pro athlete, he can't help it.

oliver was used to getting whatever and whoever he wanted as a perk of stardom. people lined up outside his door, love letters flooded his mailbox, various-colored kiss stamps decorated his pillowcases- he kind of sort of had it all. so he figured that you'd be the same. he never considered the fact that people could just not be interested,

but here he was now, feet in the sand, eyes fixed on you, as you give him a polite smile and say, "sorry. i think i'll just stay here with my friends."

oliver was on a local beach with some of his friends, plus their girlfriends. you happened to be a part of that friend group- and a pretty one at that. there were a few girls oliver could've gone after, but you stood out to him.

maybe it was the way your smile held a sweet something that made him curious. maybe it was how your laugh held secrets that he wanted to find out. maybe it was the simple, sleek white one-piece you wore, all high lines with a plunging back that made his eyes wander.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the way you were. how you engaged him in meaningful conversation and talked about things that mattered to him. you were stunning in every sense of the term.

but liking people like that just wasn't in his DNA, so oliver decides that yeah, it's just the swimsuit.

so he'd pursued you like any regular game. he'd flirted, he'd complimented, he'd suggested- and you hadn't reciprocated,

"I hope it's not an issue," you continue, snapping him out of his thoughts. oliver meets your eyes and sees something familiar flickering- something he sees in his reflection, too. a challenge.

so he flashes you a smile. "it's no problem. i'll just have to take you out sometime else, then."

that would've gotten anyone else. they'd consider his words for a moment and then say 'well, actually...' and come right home with him. but instead, you raised an eyebrow and gave him a resolute smile. "no, thanks. i'm not interested."

oliver aiku looks at you. you look at him.

anyone sane would back off. anyone sane would say 'okay!' and take any other woman home, because god knows they'd say yes. but oliver has never been a normal guy, and he thinks you make him realize something: that he doesn't want to just take you home.

he'll get your number, and he'll try again. but this time, he thinks he'll take you out to dinner, first. and maybe a few dates after that. he doesn't think it'd hurt to hear you talk some more.

oliver tells himself that it's just because he's smart. this is simply him changing his strategy to switch up the game. he wasn't interested at all, and the way his heart thunders in his chest is just his imagination, for sure.

so he smiles at you in a way that's different from his usual one- it's fewer teeth, more shine. and he hopes you can see the glint in his eyes- challenge accepted.

#blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk oliver #blue lock oliver #reader insert

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itsjustjake13 · 10 months

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First: I adore the universe of Destiny, the game, and the story... So if you are looking for some Destiny vitriol, look elsewhere.

Second: Destiny 2 spoilers from this week's story beat ahead... tagging and putting a line here just as a heads up.

Third: Ranting time!

"Thus began the Witness's pursuit... its campaign to impose meaning on a meaningless universe."

I would love if some of the critics of Destiny 2, and most recently the harsh critics of the Lightfall campaign, would listen to that one line over and over and over again.

While many stories often have meaning and lessons behind them, did you ever stop to consider to just sit back and enjoy? The Witness's prior existence as an entire species was wiped out because it could not just sit back and enjoy what was right in front of it.

They sought to impose meaning where there was none and have destroyed so much in the process.

Civilizations, planets, people... and now so many Guardians and characters we hold dear.

This is what seems to be happening to the Destiny 2 community these days. It is so focused on what it purports to not have rather than focus on what it does: an incredible world built by some of the most talented game developers in the world.

Why hold this back? This should have been the last cutscene in Lightfall. Destiny 2 is in the worst shape its ever been.

How about looking at what's right in front of you? Just over a month ago, we were all thrilled at the addition of two new unique seasonal activities AND they added fishing AND they brought back a beloved NPC AND started unveiling the mystery of the veil by connecting us to a prior piece of lore about a creature on Titan. How fuckin' rad is all of that in ONE season?

Not just that but why not let them unfold the mystery they want to unfold as they unfold it? Why do they have to answer to what certain "lore daddys" consider to be poor storytelling?

If anyone who works on Destiny 2 sees this: I think your game is so awesome. I think the story you are telling is amazing. And I really appreciate everything you've placed before me.

People often look for meaning in the meaningless, look for what's not there instead of what is, and often miss the love, community, and awesome stuff that is happening right in front of their eyes.

Video games are entertainment. Let them entertain you.

More love. Less anger.

</rant>

#destiny 2 #spoilers #destiny 2 spoilers

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alexiswritingstuff · 5 months

Text

Not just a man.

Pairing: Hiromi Higuruma x gn! reader

Warnings: none?

Summary: during one of the initial meetings in the culling game, Y/n decides to spark up a conversation with the mysterious man in the black suit.

Other mentions: like one thing about Itadori.

A/n: okay, I'm honestly not too confident about this one but if I leave it any longer it is just going to rot in my drafts, so here is my first fic with Higuruma! This is spoiler free, and even though it is based on the culling games, there might be points in this fic that don't accurately depict the situation in the manga. I have read it multiple times but my brain is something else, man. Also, be aware that there could be mischaracterisation, or general moments that would seem OOC for Higuruma. As much as I love him, this is my first fic with him so it will probably take time to nail down his characters, especially because the only thing that I can base it off is content from the manga. Either way, and despite the possible downsides, I hope you enjoy reading!

Finding a definition to encapsulate the past few days since the event had started was... difficult to say the least. While that may be because there wasn't a singular word to describe it, the options were unlimited.

Before anything had the chance to process, it was right onto the next thing. Another problem. Another fight, both physically and verbally.

It was the sort of cycle that may have already been usual in your kind of world, as there was no point in resting when curses were about, yet somehow it almost felt faster. Instead of potentially running into some form of beast, it was now an expectation instead.

Initially, you would think that was the most unnerving part, wouldn’t you?

Though, as you sat in a vast room with more people you had known in your life, it seemed that thought was more wrong than you could have known.

At some point during the game, a bunch of sorcerers were rounded up. You, somehow, just ended up being wound into it at some point. I mean, you may barely grasp the meaning of the culling game, but there were enough clues to fill it in.

There were only a few reasons why people like yourselves would gather in this way.

Something big was going down.

The room itself had become quieter over time. Most of the people within had left one after the other. Either having personal things to attend to, further discussions, or just trying to grab a breath of fresh air before even more stress.

You, however, had made yourself comfortable in one of the randomly placed seats. Or at least tried to.

In all honesty, your body was almost rigid. A lack of a want to move as the urge to fidget continuously antagonised each limb. It made it more tricky to maintain that hard exterior everyone else seemed to be able to keep up with ease.

The whole sorcery thing wasn't exactly new to you. Your ability wasn't something you discovered young, like many others. It had given you enough time to learn about it. Grow it. Though being surrounded by other people who also had some form of ability was new.

Yeah, considering the fact that you had previously only met about a handful, it was most definitely new.

But you had to admit that it was very interesting to see the different kinds of sorcerers there were.

No matter how apparent, there was an active difference in mindsets, attitudes, personalities, and the general looks of these people. Most of what they could do even contrasted with it.

They had their own stories, their own abilities, and their own worlds. It was like the more you looked around, there was an increased possibility in becoming intrigued by something different.

And eventually, it landed on one thing in particular.

One person.

To your left was this man. He was sitting in his respective chair almost as if he were one with it, his hand simply resting against a table that separated the two of you, while his eyes gazed forward without a specific focus.

There wasn't exactly anything obscure about him. There was nothing on the surface that made him stick out from the rest; in fact, he was probably the most generic-looking person here.

He was just a man in a mere black suit and matching tie, though there was something that made it increasingly difficult for your eyes to stray.

And apparently keeping your mouth shut too.

“It's Higuruma, isn't it?”

It seemed to take a few seconds for the sound to register in his ears. Or, more so, the fact that it was directed at him if the words weren't enough. So a moment passed, he blinked, and eventually his head began to turn in your direction.

It was a lazy movement, one that soon revealed his other hand to be resting against his chin while the hook of a finger pressed into the space beneath his bottom lip. If he had glasses on, his eyes would be peering right over them, startled yet tired enough that they could barely be seen.

The man before you hummed, a deep sound that grumbled within his throat until his lips had finally decided to part. “I don't believe we've met before.”

His voice was pretty much what you were expecting it to be: lacking interest, flat, and a tad accusatory.

It was paired with this furrowed eyebrow, which created a light look of confusion, either simply because of the sudden conversation or the fact that it was with someone he hadn't paid much attention to beforehand.

To others, it may have made them uneasy. Filled them with a regret just for opening their mouth in the first place. But not for you. In fact, it had you finally settling into your seat.

“No, actually, I overheard that, uh, Itadori kid talking about your previous... interaction,” you explained, trying to use a new tone in hopes of loosening him up and making it clear that you were just wanting to talk. However, there was barely even a reaction.

A muscle in his face had slightly twitched in response to the phrasing, but otherwise he was still. He just stared back at you with those blank eyes.

He looked to be thinking, which helped relieve some of the tension, though in reality, it didn’t seem like he was one for conversing. At least not right now, anyway, and it should’ve made you turn away. It should’ve shut your mouth and made you go find somewhere else to bother. I mean, you had learned quite a few names by now.

But the more you looked back at the so-called Higuruma, the more questions began to pile high up inside your brain. And it was only a matter of time before one would decide it was right to spill through your lips.

“Okay, look, I'm sorry, but I really need to.” You huffed out a breath, letting your feet fully plant against the ground as your torso twisted towards the man for proper delivery. “Can I ask you a question?”

There was a speck of hesitance that appeared within his gaze once it focused back on you, but nevertheless, “Go ahead." He relented, his tone enough of a warning that this was either going to continue or finish this conversation all together.

“Did you really take a bath with your clothes on?”

When the question settled for a moment, Higuruma leaned back a little, allowing a full view of you into his vision before he challenged, “Is it that unbelievable?”

“Well... I can't say that I've thought of doing it myself.”

“Exactly,” he stated without missing a beat, and it stilled your body. Your lips stayed apart for a moment, attempting to find the right words while he continued to stare into your soul. “So you just woke up one day and decided to bathe fully clothed?”

You blinked at him. He blinked right back. “Pretty much.”

Within the next few seconds, you found yourself sort of mirroring the way he sat. Like all the care you had on keeping up some form of appearance just went right out of the window.

And though a string of words failed to encompass your reaction to his experiment, it seemed that whatever expression was on your face was enough to entice a further explanation.

“Not to disappoint,” Higuruma had begun through a slight strain, somehow sinking even further into the chair until the back of his head was planted against the top rail. “But truthfully, I was only trying to do something I normally wouldn't.”

“That's all.”

Never in your life have you been more curious about a singular man. He hadn't done anything crazy; I mean, at some point, you must have had that same thought. So what the hell was it? Why was there an urge to keep this conversation going?

“And… how did that feel?”

At this point, Higuruma's eyes had fallen closed, getting tired of staring up at the same boring ceiling, and basked in the growing silence from the fewer sorcerers. “Damp... though I must say it was better than I thought it would be.”

The only response you could think of was this barely audible hum. It was the easiest conclusion, seeing as it would acknowledge the comment while buying you time to figure out what exactly to say next. But it was rather challenging.

This whole scenario was just strange to you—something you probably couldn't even dream up if you tried. Yet here you were in the real world, having the most entertaining conversation with a man who you most likely wouldn't get the chance to if it weren't for the fact that both of you were sorcerers.

“You know, I didn't think I was going to get along with a lawyer.” you spoke up after a moment of silence, and Higuruma sucked air into his nose. His head lolled to the side, a movement fulfilled with somehow less energy than before. “That obvious?” he questioned, which in turn had you raising your eyebrows.

“What—that you're a lawyer?” you attempted to clarify, properly meeting his heavy gaze just in time to see his short nod. “You're the only one in here dressed in a full fancy suit; it was either that or you were a member of the men in black.”

It wasn’t entirely visible, but you swore the next time you blinked that the corner of his mouth that you could see sort of quirked upward. It wasn't a full smile; it had barely even created that little crevice, though it got accentuated by a huff that slightly shook his body.

And then it faded: “Are you going to ask about my abilities too, then?”

“No, no, I got the jist,” you waved off initially, noting the way the question drained all the expressiveness from his face. “Honestly, I was more interested in the bath thing anyway, but now that you mention it, it must've taken you a while to master a thing like that.”

Higuruma hummed again, his gaze becoming unfocused once again as he started to search through his recollections. “I believe... It's been about twelve days.”

If it weren't for the statement itself, the nonchalant delivery would have also caused your eyes to widen in the way that they did. “What?” Your body turned as much as it could until your knee knocked into the crooked coffee table. The man before you remained unfazed.

“Twelve days—forget being a sorcerer; you're a damn magician, Higuruma!” you insisted, trying so hard to keep your voice at a minimum level while he lazily began to push himself to sit up straight. “Is it really that impressive?”

Your eyebrows were completely furrowed this time, your gaze narrowing on the man in disbelief. “There are some people who get their abilities at birth, and they can still not have them under control no matter what age they reach.”

“But that would also depend on the effort they put into doing so in the first place, if any,” Higuruma countered without missing a beat, though the conviction layering his voice faltered when he continued, “I… just got that chance of getting something that wasn't much different from my usual job.”

“Still, you managed to understand it—in what, a little more than a week? And it’s already at the point that you can just fully use it?” you reminded him almost at the same speed that he had, “I mean, even for a lawyer, that's got to be at least notable.”

The rest of his face may have been void of any emotions, but those eyebrows weren’t fooling anyone. His mind was moving. What wasn’t apparent, however, was in which direction it was doing so.

Higuruma may have been new to the world of sorcery, but this wasn’t something he thought was part of it.

Your genuineness, your curiosity, that look on your face—that was anything but the disgust he had seen in his own eyes. For once, he was face-to-face with something he couldn't solve right off the bat.

“How long did it take you?” He finally spoke up after a moment, and it seemed that both of you were equally unsure if the change of subject was due to it being uncomfortable or if he was now the one to be genuinely curious.

Now it was your turn to lean back a little. “Truthfully,” you started, averting your gaze for pretty much the first time since this entire interaction had begun. “I don't think mine is story-worthy, to be honest.”

Higurumas brow twitched upward. “How come?”

“Well,” You took in a breath, “not everyone has eventful lives. It’s as simple as that, really. In a world with a multitude of different abilities, there is bound to be a plethora of expectations and disappointments.” you stated with a light shrug, “Besides, I'm kinda tired of the whole 'introducing people's abilities before themselves'.”

“Isn’t that a little contradictory?” he inquired, and the defensiveness beat your urge to laugh. “What? No-- You were the one who willingly confirmed what you could do. I was only asking about–”

“The bath thing,” Higuruma affirmed before you could. “Yeah, yeah, I remember.” The look he gave you was one that had a grin fighting to take over your lips. It may have been filled with some annoyance, further concluded by a slight shake of his head. But it wasn’t the bad kind.

“Listen,” you began, trying to regain that seriousness so that you could get back to your point, even if it faltered. “All I’m saying is that we have every other day to discuss our abilities, man, but right now we have the chance to just... sit and talk about anything but that.”

That feeling of defensiveness was back, no matter its battle with amusement. And this time it was on a level that had you crossing your arms over your chest, as if it would do anything. “Then what do you have in mind?” Higuruma questioned, simply watching you complete your movement.

Your lips parted immediately for some reason. It was like your mind had pre-prepared some form of comeback as it got ready to let the words roll off your tongue… but they barely even formed into a sound. It was more like a slight croak, in all honesty. You paused.

“... I didn't think that far."

For the first time in the minutes that you had known this man, the corners of his mouth had finally, and visibly, curled.

He looked at you, his smile begging to grow further and further, to the point that he started biting it down.

It was sort of unusual to see. Most of the time you looked at him, he had this blankness that latched to his face in a way that made it almost look embedded into the skin. There wasn’t really any difference in expression; it was more the movement of muscles.

Yet now, whatever he was showing had almost reached his eyes, and it sat very nicely.

“What?” you half breathed out, a sort of nervous laugh breaking through your lips despite most of your face being screwed up in confusion. Higuruma waved a hand lazily and said, “Nothing. It's nothing; you're just…”

“It's all just been a little interesting,” he finally confessed, and though you were sure of its meaning, the phrasing put a crack in your amusement. “In a good way or a bad way?” you quizzed with a lighter tone, settling back into the chair, which never actually relieved the tension from your spine.

Higuruma shook his head once more before his gaze shifted to find your own. That previous spike of enjoyment seemed to use up the last bit of energy he had for the day as his face slowly reverted back to its usual state.

“It's good now, I think…” he started, dragging out the ending word, and it wasn’t until he lowered his chin that you realised he was gesturing in your direction. He was asking for your name. You hadn’t told him your name?

“Oh… Oh, just call me, L/n.” you informed quickly, trying to hide the confusion that had made itself known once more while the man before you simply nodded. “L/n,” he repeated quietly before continuing in a fuller voice. “Well, I hope your first impression of me wasn’t as bad as it sounds in my head,”

The slight grimace dusting over his face had you huffing out a laugh in seconds. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that any time soon, Higuruma,” you insisted, letting that smile take its rightful place on your lips to further prove it.

And though it took a moment of looking at each other, he finally had a reason to do it too.

“Not at all.”

#higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma jjk #higuruma #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #hiromi jjk

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reminiscingtonight · 1 year

Text

The Reveal

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Lucy finally returns in this last installment of the Setback prequels. I hope you guys have enjoyed the journey as much as I have writing it!

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks

[WOSO Masterlist]

Waking up to Leah will always be your favorite activity. You come to consciousness to tiny breaths puffed against your cheek, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Your legs are tangled together, the only evidence of what happened last night being the soreness in your body and the lack of clothes on both of you.

You snuggle against Leah, letting yourself bask in her warmth before beginning the daunting task of untangling yourself. The defender’s clingier than most, never letting you leave the bed without a fight. Usually you would fold without much prompting and go cuddle with your favorite person, but today you have plans to make Leah breakfast in bed, and you’d be damned if you let her charm you out of it.

“No! Don’t go,” Leah whines, coming to consciousness just to try to pull you back into bed with her.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” you whisper, secretly delighted that Leah still puts up this much of a fight even after a couple months into dating.

She mumbles something incoherent into her pillow but doesn’t let go of the death grip she has on your arm.

“Leah,” you tsk out, happily giving her a kiss when she drags you down for another one. When she attempts to go from cute to sexy, however, you stop her right in her tracks. “Let me do something nice for you. Please?”

Leah gives you a blank look, hand pausing from where it’s attempting to trail down your body. When you give her your best puppy eyes, she sighs before letting you go. That’s the one trait the two of you share, never being able to say no to what the other wanted.

“Fine. Hurry back, I miss you already.” Leah’s pout almost gets you to break. Almost.

Pressing a quick kiss against her lips, you quickly shrug on a hoodie and some underwear before slinking out into the kitchen.

Thankful for your pre-planning, you already have all the ingredients necessary to make breakfast. You pull them all out quickly, mentally ticking off your checklist. You’re ducking under your cabinet, trying to pull out a plate when you hear the distinct sound of keys in your locks.

You spin around just as your front door swings open. When you catch sight of brown hair in a familiar bun, you’re suddenly glad you threw on a hoodie to cover your state of undress before leaving your room.

“Luce! What are you doing here?” It’s hard to hide the panic in your voice, especially when you’re aware of the body in the next room.

Lucy gives you a weird look, mistaking your panic for confusion. She drops a bag of muffins and some coffee onto your counter. “What, I can’t come visit my sister?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you shrug, hoping to play off your disarray.

Lucy eyes all the food on the counter, taking note of the two plates, two cups, double of everything really. “The amount of food you’re preparing says otherwise.”

You blink owlishly, silently cursing your sister’s perceptive eyes. You could never get anything past Lucy when you were younger. Her BS detector has only seemed to improve as the two of you grew older.

“Did I tell you I was coming over? Damn, I was really hoping to surprise you. Give you an early birthday gift since I’m in town right now and all.”

“What? No. No! I’m surprised, very surprised. You did a great job, totally didn’t see it coming or anything. When did you even get into town? I thought you had a game yesterday.” You’re really hoping your rambling has confused Lucy enough to forget about all the extra food you’re preparing, but in the end, none of your distractions are enough to stop Leah from joining the party.

“Baby, what’s all the nois--” Leah stops abruptly when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Your first step is to grimace. You’ve been thinking about the best way to break the news of your new girlfriend to Lucy for weeks now. Although you haven’t hid your relationship anywhere close to as long as Lucy did, you know that your sister would still be hurt that you hadn’t told her right away.

Lucy stiffens next to you and you’re trying to come up with the proper explanation when you notice what Leah’s dressed in. Or more plainly, how little she’s dressed in. All Leah’s got on is one of your flannels and a pair of boxers.

You bite your lip, not able to push down the sudden surge of attraction that arises when you catch sight of her abs, the low swells of her-- Leah seems to gather her lack of clothes at the same time. She quickly closes shut the flannel, hiding the excess skin she had on display. Leah’s face is a rosy hue, no doubt embarrassed to be caught in this state by your sister.

Speaking of which…

“Why is there a barely dressed Leah Williamson in your flat?” Lucy grits out, turning her glare towards you.

“Surprise. We’re… dating?” The way your voice raises at the end makes your statement sound more like a question.

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”

A tense silence settles over the three of you.

Leah fidgets uncomfortably under Lucy’s piercing eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder towards your bedroom, but stops the second your sister’s voice rings out.

“No, stay. Please. I’d like to see how you guys try to explain this away.” Lucy crosses her arms, staring pointedly between the two of you.

“There’s nothing to ‘explain away’,” you frown, not liking what Lucy’s implying. “Leah’s my girlfriend and I’m hers. We’re dating.”

It’s not like it’s a secret. While you and Leah are keeping things on the downlow, most of your club teammates have already figured out that you and Leah are together. The great thing about not playing on the same team as your sister meant not sharing every second of your life with one another. You’re sure Lucy’s happy for the slight reprieve, after basically coddling you to your interests your entire life.

You make your way around the counter, picking up a discarded sweatshirt on the way and handing it to Leah. Your girlfriend murmurs a quiet thanks, hurrying to pull on the piece of clothing. You can feel Lucy’s gaze burning into your back as you block Leah from Lucy’s view.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming,” you whisper, noting the way Leah’s eyes keep darting nervously behind you.

“When did this happen?” Lucy’s voice interrupts the two of you before Leah can respond to you.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you turn around to face your sister again. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Her eyes narrow dangerously and you can feel Leah stiffen beside you. You’re used to Lucy being short with you, not that it happens often, but you understand why Leah’s more jumpy than usual. If you weren’t related to Lucy you would probably be quaking in your boots too.

But you are related to her. And you know exactly how to push Lucy’s buttons without the disastrous consequences that usually come when people challenge her.

You square your jaw, trying hard not to snap at Lucy. “You know Leah. You like Leah. There’s no need to give her the third degree.”

Lucy’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but you cut her off again before she can argue with you.

“Leah makes me happy. Like really stupidly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time, okay? She treats me amazingly and dotes on me to the degree that it should be annoying but instead only makes me love her more. She’s wonderful in every way possible and most importantly, she loves me. So. Take all of that into account before you say whatever you’re going to say.”

Lucy blinks, not expecting such a long, thought out declaration.

Leah also seems to be taken aback, mouth parted in surprise. It’s only when the silence drags on and no one says anything that you realize how raw your declaration was. The heat crawls up your neck and your fingers start nervously drumming on your thigh.

Leah’s hand is quick to lace themselves with yours, stopping your nervous motion. She gives you a light squeeze, and you watch as Lucy’s eyes drop to your intertwined hands.

It almost feels like a lifetime before Lucy says anything. When she does, you’re not sure if it’s supposed to make you feel better or not.

“Okay. Well. You’re an adult so.” Lucy sighs, looking as if she’s about to get up and leave.

From the corner of your eyes you can see a matching frown form on Leah’s face.

“Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you think.”

And it’s true. You’ve always idolized your sister, wanting to do everything you could to impress her. Her perceptions on everything you do is always important to you. And while you’re ready to defend Leah to the moon and back, Lucy’s approval would only make you breathe a little easier.

Lucy silently stares at the two of you, trying to weigh whether or not you’re being honest. The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her attention to Leah. “You really love (Y/N)?”

Leah nods, hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, I really do.”

Lucy looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she shrugs. “Okay, well that’s all I can really ask for.”

You want to let out the breath you’ve been holding in this entire time, but then Lucy actually does head for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Lucy pauses, already slipping on one of her shoes. “Uh, well it’s clear I’m crashing your guy’s breakfast so I’m just going to--”

“You should stay!” Leah’s outburst takes all of you by surprise. A blush forms on her face as she throws out a mumbled, “Please.”

Lucy looks between the two of you, from Leah’s embarrassed face to your pleading one. You know you have her when Lucy takes one look at your puppy eyes and then mutters something in Portuguese to herself.

“Alright then, if you guys insist.”

Your smile is blinding as Lucy makes her way back to the kitchen. Leah passes you another cup that you quickly fill with coffee before sliding it to your sister. Lucy mumbles a quick thanks before handing out the muffins she brought this morning.

“Maybe we should invite Keira next time,” Lucy hums under her breath as she takes a bite of her muffin. “Make this a proper double date. I’m sure she would love it.”

Lucy stops chewing when she notices the way Leah has stiffened up again. She turns her questioning gaze towards you, but you turn your eyes upwards, suddenly finding your ceiling very interesting.

Lucy chokes.

“Oh my god, you guys haven’t told Keira yet?!”

#leah williamson x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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thedeerman · 16 days

Text

RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Hey all, this is the first chapter of my little slow burn radioapple fic. Please let me know what you think, I don’t write much!!

Ch1: A New Idea

It’s been three weeks since the attempted extermination. Three weeks since Lucifer just barely saved the life of his daughter in a fight that nearly killed everyone she cared about. Three weeks since he helped to build the new hotel and moved into his very own suite. It’s been both terrible and beautiful for Lucifer. He had hardly spoken to another soul for years and now was thrown into daily gatherings with sinners he didn’t know. Some of which he certainly didn’t care to know. But those gatherings also included his daughter. His wonderful, smart, passionate, forgiving daughter. I don’t deserve her, Lucifer thinks constantly. He spent years neglecting their relationship, burying himself in his own sorrow, and yet Charlie welcomed him in without a second thought. Without even asking for an explanation or apology for his years of absence. He’s not sure where she got such a big heart, but he’s beyond grateful that she has it. And as an attempt to show her just how dedicated he is to helping her see out her dream, he’s been showing up for every morning meeting. Every ‘family’ dinner. Every chore list, cooking schedule, errands run, nearly anything that could be signed up for, he does. Lucifer didn’t mind chores much. Cooking was fun and he could be experimental (in a way that didn’t include human remains, much to the other residents’ delight). Doing dishes or laundry was something as monotonous and calming as making ducks and other little trinkets. And on the days when he really just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, he simply used his magic to help him get it done quickly. No matter how emotionally taxing, how time consuming, or how frustrating the task was, Lucifer was ready and willing to do anything he could to help his daughter succeed.

It’s because of this that Lucifer ends up on the attendance list for all of Charlie’s ’family’ activities for the hotel. It doesn’t seem too bad at first, but as the activities get to be a little more personal, Lucifer ends up regretting how agreeable he was to his daughter’s every request. A bit too late to be kicking myself for that now... Lucifer thinks as he sits in yet another hotel ‘family’ meeting. The ‘family’ being Charlie of course, her girlfriend Vaggie, the spider demon/porn star Angel, the grumpy bartender Husk, the scary little maid (the one that killed Adam, no less) Niffty, Angel’s one eyed bomb loving friend Cherri, now Lucifer, and... Ugh. This guy, the fallen angel thinks, as the final ‘family’ member graces them with his presence by appearing from the shadows. Alastor... What a pain in the ass. Lucifer doesn't actually have much reason to hate the demon aside from his frustrating theatrics and his need to always be the one Charlie pays the most attention to. Whatever game you’re playing, I’ve got my eye on you, he’s always thinking.

“Alrighty everyone!” His daughter’s voice catches Lucifer’s attention. “Now that we’re all here, I’d like to announce that we will be trying a new activity!” There are a series of groans from the group. None from Alastor, of course. But his creepy, always there smile seems strained, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Charlie continued. “So! You all know how we’ve been trying out some new ideas as test runs for new residents,” she starts. Yes, and it’s been excruciating. No one involved has been enjoying being guinea pigs for Charlie’s therapy experiments. The only silver lining being that the new residents wouldn’t have to suffer the same fates, as each and every “new activity” so far has been tossed out after a resounding failure of some kind or another. Fights, tears, broken furniture, and excessive day drinking have occurred both during and after a few of these sessions. Her ideas weren’t terrible in concept, but in practice, with demons and fallen angels and souls under contract, they just weren’t working. Lucifer’s attention is once again brought to the front of the room as Charlie continues.

“And yes, I understand that the past few exercises we’ve tried... haven’t exactly ended well.” Lucifer hates the sad look in her eyes as she considers her failures, but it’s gone as quickly as it arrived. “But after a lot of discussion and thinking about how and why our previous activities went so....” She pauses, looking for the right word. “Awful? Terrible? Destructive? Shitty? Depressing?” Angel adds. Vaggie glared his way but the demon wasn’t paying any attention. “Yes, thank you Angel,” Charlie says hesitantly. “So! I took those... experiences... into account while creating this one!” Lucifer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He was a huge fan of Charlie living out her dream, but he wasn’t a huge fan of having to be this close to the action. He lets out a small sigh. I can’t abandon my place as her dad again. Charlie paused for a moment to reach into a bag and hand a bundle of items to Vaggie. Small strips of paper and markers. As Vaggie started passing them out to each of them, Charlie explains. “First thing’s first, I need everyone to write their names down. Once you’ve written your name, please give your paper to Vaggie.”

Lucifer’s anxiety starts up, as it always does when he’s involved in one of his daughter’s ‘family’ activities. He just hopes whatever comes of this involves less property damage than before. He hands his paper back to Vaggie as she walks around to collect them. Giving the papers back to her partner, Vaggie continues the instructions. “You will now each receive a randomly chosen name. The name on your paper will be for your eyes and your eyes only. Do not tell anyone else the name that you got.” Charlie excitedly passes the papers back out, now folded shut. “Except for me!” she interrupts. “I’m going to make a note of who gets who for the sole purpose of understanding the effectiveness of this activity. Don’t worry, no one else will get to see!” Her smile is infectious, Lucifer just can’t help it. He always smiles when he sees his daughter this way, so full of hope and joy. Vaggie hands him a folded strip of paper. Before he can open it to see who he was assigned, Charlie speaks again.

“Now, unlike some of our previous attempts, this activity will not be done as a group.” Multiple sighs of relief are heard, and Lucifer notices that Alastor seems to relax ever so slightly. At least that’s one thing we can agree on... “However,” Charlie continues, “This will be a week-long exercise-” multiple groans again, “that will involve a prompt each morning. That prompt will be a question or instruction that each of you will respond to in a letter. The letters don’t have to be long, but must include a full response to the prompt. They don’t have to be short either, just go for whatever your honest answer is!” She’s practically bouncing up and down with excitement as she says “The recipient of what you’ll be writing for the week will be the name on the paper youve been given. You’ll have a full 24 hours to write your letters. Tomorrow you’ll hand them in to me during the morning meeting, and will then be given the next prompt. Any questions so far?”

All of them are silent for a long moment. Vaggie breaks the silence. “Here are the rules. Rule number one: You MUST be respectful. OUR version of respectful. No insults, no petty jabs. Just answer the prompt. Rule number two: No discussing who each person is writing to. I mean NO discussion. Do not ask, do not tell. If we find out that this rule is broken, the offending parties will be sitting in on Charlie’s hotel-wide group therapy sessions for a month.” Lucifer’s eyes went wide at this. Several others did as well. Group therapy wasn't an uncommon ‘punishment’ (though Charlie wont ever call it that) but the sessions are held four days out of the week and last for one to two hours at a time. And with new arrivals slowly trickling into the hotel to be redeemed, the sessions were getting larger. Lucifer tensed, thinking of the last time he was forced to participate after getting into a spat with the only sinner in the building he just couldn’t stand to be around. Lucifer was not meant for group therapy, that was for sure. The most any of them have been forced to attend for bad behavior was one week. None of them wanted a whole month.

Vaggie looked amused at the group’s reaction to this. She spoke again. “This also includes revealing yourself to the person you’re writing to. These letters are supposed to be anonymous.” Charlie speaks up. “This exercise depends on honesty and anonymity, and I have really high hopes that this one can be used by new residents learning to redeem themselves.” She pauses. “Okay. So now that we’ve gone over everything, I’m going to call each of you over to note down who you’ll be writing to. I’ll then give you a paper with today’s writing prompt and an envelope to put the letter in once you're done. Make sure to seal it! After that, bring your envelope with you for tomorrow’s meeting and I’ll mark the intended recipient on the front. At the end of our meeting you’ll get the letter addressed to you and the next writing prompt.”

All of this information takes a moment to register in Lucifer’s head, but after he’s gone over it all in his mind he’s left with a sense of pride for his daughter. Out of all of her experiments so far, this one is the first that Lucifer doesnt think would turn into an all out war. It seems... feasible. He smiles as she makes eye contact with him, clearly ecstatic with her plan. Vaggie calls each one of them over to the desk that Charlie has against the room’s far wall. One at a time, each member of the ‘family’ does as they’re told and then leaves the meeting room. Lucifer spends a moment wondering who got his slip of paper, the one with his name written on it, until he suddenly remembers that he never looked at his own intended letter recipient. With no one close enough to peer over his shoulder, Lucifer slowly opens up the folded paper to see whose name is written.

Of course. Go figure. Yeah, why not just make the next week my own little slice of Hell? I mean honestly- His thoughts are interrupted by Charlie’s voice. “Dad! It’s your turn!” He looks up and realizes he’s the last one to be called. Everyone else, save Charlie and Vaggie, have already left the room. He attempts to smile as he stands and faces his daughter, but she sees through it immediately. And it's obvious. “Come on Dad... I know who you got.” This surprises him. Was his face really that revealing? “Everyone else’s name has already been marked on my chart, so...” She smiles awkwardly. “Listen, I think this will be good for you! Please, just try your best?” Lucifer slowly walks to the desk and sighs heavily. “Anything for you, sunshine. I’ll try my hardest.” He hands the strip of paper to his daughter and she gives him the paper with the prompt and envelope in exchange. “I dont think I’ve got you on the chores schedule today, but I’m gonna be pretty busy so I probably won’t see you until dinner.” She smiles at him, that glowing warm smile that he’d missed out on for so many years. She encourages him with an “I love you, Dad. You’re gonna do great!” and gives him a thumbs up.

He leaves the room smiling, just loving being in his daughter’s presence, until he walks into the lobby and sees him. Sitting on one of the many comfy chairs, sipping black coffee out of a mug that says “Oh Deer” on the side. The asshole. The worst demon in the hotel. The piece of shit that loves to torment Lucifer to no end. The name on his strip of paper. He strides by as quickly as possible to avoid any contact. Damn it... He thinks on the way back to his side of the hotel. Why, of all people... He can’t get the vision of the neat, cursive handwriting out of his head. His mind focuses on one name and one name only.

Alastor

Read Chapter 2!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #fanfic #mine #Do You Want To Know

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daughterofcain-67 · 6 months

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ℳ𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒫𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓀𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝓅𝒾𝒸𝑒

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It's finally Autumn and the residents of Montana are excited to celebrate the upcoming holidays, whether its Halloween, Thanksgiving and eventually Christmas. But Beau Arlen wasn’t really thrilled. He wasn’t into the Pumkin Spice season and didn’t really have a reason to celebrate since his divorce. Beau hadn't been to a Fall Festival since before the divorce with his ex and honestly didn't plan on going. But you convince him to live a little, make happier memories while he's here and give him a break from the cases he's a part of. And maybe the both of you may walk through opened doors.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none! simply fluff with the new Montana sheriff~

Autumn was finally here! You couldn’t have been more excited. You no longer had to worry about the scorching heat of the summer, or the mosquitos that would bug you at night. Now you could finally enjoy the cooler weather, wear your hoodies and cardigans and anything else that was cozy for this time of year. You were so ready for the warm cappuccino and the hot chocolate while snuggling under a blanket to read books or binge your favorite movies.

But the part that you were most excited for was the upcoming Fall Festival! At the festival here in Montana, there were plenty of vendors where people would sell homemade items or foodstuffs. There was games, some rides, and other activities for the kids. There would even be a band and a place where people could dance in the evening, enjoy each other’s company, and there were different fire pits in the night where people could roast marshmallows and make some s’mores. It was nice family fun for everyone and it always got you ready to kick off the Autumn season.

At this particular moment, you had gotten some breakfast treats for the cops in the sheriff’s office and you had gotten some coffee for the new Sheriff in town. You wanted to butter him up for a little proposition you had.

See, you knew he was new in town, and you were made aware through Hoyt that he was divorced. It wasn’t necessarily a good split from what you've heard. You didn’t know how he spent his holidays now, and you wanted him to have fun this holiday season and invite him to the festival! How bad would it be since the two of you would simply go platonically. It's not like either of you were really looking for a relationship anyways.

Plus you needed a break from working in the PI's office and give your brain a rest from the research and tackling different cases for clients. So far it's been predominantly cheating husbands and runaway teens for you.

Coming out from her office, you see Jenny with a smile on her face when she saw you, "Hey! I was just about to swing by your place."

You lifted a brow slightly at her comment, "Um, what for?"

"I kind of needed some advice for a case. But judging by the looks of it, you've got your hands full. Let me help you with that." She smiled and took the box of treats and set them down on one of the tables to the side where some of the officers have been known to put snacks out for everyone once in a while.

"I'd be happy to help, but can I catch you around your lunch break? I kind of needed to talk to Sheriff Arlen for a second." You said and Jenny leaned back a little, raising her brows before she smirked.

"You're asking him to go to the Fall Festival with you, aren't you?" She asked and you looked down at the coffee in your hands.

"It's more of a proposition of two acquaintances trying to find something to do. It's not like it'll be a date." You shrugged, but you knew Jenny would still have that slightly condescending smile on her face, the one that implied she knew better.

Honestly anytime you told Jenny that you were thinking of even talking to Beau, she made you feel like this was some sort of high school suspense drama or something that the kids watch these days where the girl is too shy to talk to the guy or the girl thinks it will never work out. Or something else of that somewhat cringy nature.

You were two adults, you were pretty sure Beau was in his mid forties, you were barely into your thirties. You were trying to be more mature than what Jenny had playing in her mind. Then again she did have a teenaged boy running around so maybe she watched some of those little shows to try and have the conversations stay relevant with her kid. Who knew.

"You know, it's okay to have a crush on a guy even if you aren't a teen anymore. It's not taboo. How do you think divorced people meet other people and re-marry?" Jenny asked and put a hand on her hip and you gave a half smile.

"I think all I can use right now from the Sheriff is a friendship. My divorce from Tristan is still relatively fresh, remember? It's taking a lot for me to even want to ask him to come along. Then there's him and his divorce. And you know how his divorce went better than I do." You reminded her, but you watched her just shrug.

"All I'm saying is don't slam any doors shut when they're barely starting to open up. Keep an open mind and see what happens. I'll catch you later. I'm gonna go see Cassie and see if she can help with the case while you ask Beau out." your friend teased and you playfully rolled her eyes before she walked off.

You walked over to the Sheriff's door and you lifted a hand before knocking on the door. Once you heard him telling you to come in, you opened the door and saw the man you were looking for sitting at his computer screen. His brows narrowed at the screen so much that you could see a wrinkle from how hard he seemed to be focused.

"You think you have time for a coffee break?" You asked and you could tell you broke his train of thought from the way he blinked at the screen before lifting his head up to look at you.

Then you saw that smile that could sweet talk any girl, charm any cop to do what he asked them to do... damned him and his charisma.

"Y/N! What a surprise to see ya. What can I do for ya, Darlin'?"

You swore you needed to find a way to make your heart stop throbbing when he called you Darlin', especially when you knew he called a lot of people different nicknames as a habit he claims he picked up from Texas. He didn't mean anything by it other than just a friendly gesture and you knew it.

"Well, I was in town for breakfast. Turns out I bought too many breakfast items and decided to bring them over here. And I assumed a certain sheriff needed some caffeine." He smiled at what you were saying and let out a chuckle while he turned his chair around so he could get out of it and walk over.

"You're a doll. Thanks." He said and when he went to reach for the coffee, he hesitated before he looked at you, "It's not Pumpkin Spice, is it?"

You laughed and shook your head and handed him the coffee, "No, just the normal way you like it."

He let out a slightly dramatic sigh of relief and he took the coffee before you smirked, "That's not to say I didn't get some pumpkin related treats amongst some other things for breakfast." Beau cringed a little, making you giggle to yourself at his reaction.

"Hey, not everyone's a hater around here when it comes to that sort of thing." You reminded and he shrugged while he took a sip of the coffee, humming with delight.

"Anyway, what have you been up to? I know it's been a while since I've had my hands tied with the past couple of cases lately." He said, but you could understand that he's been busy. You didn't exactly envy him for the workload he had on his plate.

"Just working with Cassie and working on cases wherever I can. Mostly a lot of runaway teens that we just got back to their parents, and paranoid spouses worried about cheating husbands. I just finished up with my last case and we haven't had anymore clients walking in, so it's kind of slow at the moment."

"Man, I wish I had your work load." Beau chuckled and you shook your head.

"No you wouldn't. Guys like you are better off where there's more action. You'd hate how slow it is right now."

"You sayin' I'm the antsy type?" He asked curiously and you shrug.

"I'm saying you'd be happier doing something most of the time rather having longer periods of downtime." You said, "Just from what I've seen from you."

He hummed a little and took another sip of his coffee. You looked over at his desk and saw all the different casefiles scattered about and you bit down on the corner of your lip, wondering if you should even suggest taking him away from work.

"Hey uh... I know you have a lot on your plate right now. But I was wondering if you wanted to go to the festival tomorrow? Given you have a little less going on." You said and he looked at you confused.

"Festival?"

"Yeah, the Fall Festival's everyone's been getting ready for. It'll be a lot of fun and it gets you out of the office for a while."

Beau looked down at you. Jenny had mentioned something to him about the Fall Festival but since Carla left with Emily, he hadn't really celebrated any holidays. He didn't really have a reason to since Emily preferred holidays with her mom and step family. He tried to celebrate the first couple of years after the divorce but it wasn't the same and he didn't see a point in it anymore.

"Actually I think it'd be better if I stayed here, Darlin'. This work ain't gonna finish itself and I'd rather be ahead of the game." He said.

"Let me rephrase that..." He heard you trail off and he saw that certain look of determination in your eye. He's seen it when you were dead set on completing a case or laser focused on doing something. Hoyt said you had your stubborn moments even if they were sometimes few and far between.

"For the sake of your brain, you know, not exploding from the information overload on your abundance of cases, you and I are going as friends to the Fall Festival and you and I are going to have fun. Gets us both out of the offices and out of the house. Plus it gives you some new memories to make while you're here."

Beau couldn't help but grin at you, "For the sake of my brain, huh? How nice of you to consider my sanity." He chuckled before he tilted his head for a moment, "What time am I picking you up?"

He watched as a grin formed on your lips and he couldn't bring himself to saying no to a smile like yours, "How's ten sound?"

"I'll grab ya by ten then." He promised and your grin went to a full smile.

"Great! I'll see you tomorrow morning. Don't get into too much trouble before then." You told him and he smiled as he watched you leave the office.

Maybe you were right about getting out of the office for a bit. It couldn't hurt that much and he could give his cases a break for some time. It was sweet of you to invite him along but he wondered how hard it was for you to ask him.

Unbeknownst to you, Jenny told him you were divorced as well. Yours was only about eight months ago and Jenny told him that you buried yourself in as much work as you could in the beginning of it but Hoyt convinced you to kind of ease up successfully about a month ago. Although you didn't really go out much with other people the whole time. From what he understood, this was the first time you really invited anybody to go out and do something with you like coming to the festival.

Maybe you needed this just as much as he did even if he didn't want to admit it.

He couldn't help but wonder how bad your split was, but he was pretty confident that you wouldn't want to sit and compare notes with him about ex's.

All he needed to remember was what time he needed to pick you up for this thing.

The next evening came around and it was already close ten. You were sitting on the couch in your living room while you waited for Beau to pick you up to go to the Festival. You honestly hoped that you'd have fun with this thing. Honestly you were shocked at yourself for even following through with inviting him.

You could hear Beau's truck pulling up and you got up before grabbing your belongings you wanted to take with you. You heard your phone go off with whatever sound you had that would alert you when you had a text. When you grabbed your phone from your pocket you saw that Beau messaged you.

BA: I'm here Darlin

You grinned, putting the phone back in your pocket before you started making your way outside. There, you saw the familiar grey truck and Beau waved at you from the driver's seat.

You grinned and waved back before walking over and you opened the door and sat in the seat.

"Hey." You grinned and he smiled, returning the little greeting.

"So are you ready for the festival?" You asked, buckling up.

"I'm more ready than I think I'll ever be." He insisted, "It's just been a while since I've been to one of these things."

"It's been a while for me too. I haven't been to any kind of festival since I got married. He wasn't really into that kind of thing." You said, placing your little bag down on the floor board, "But anyway, I think my favorite part of the festivals are the vendors. I would do a lot of Christmas shopping early and the vendors had cute little gifts I'd get."

"Yeah, those little vendor tables do have neat little goods don't they?"

"Yeah. And then there's the snacks people come up with too! Some of my favorites when I used to come to this festival was caramel apple ice cream." You said, starting to get excited to come to one of these things again. Honestly even when you were married you should have come to these things even if Tristan didn't like to come.

"That sounds pretty good actually. But ice cream when it's cold?" You could hear Beau questioning your logic a little and you shrugged.

"Sometimes I like cold desserts even when it's cold outside. But then in the times where I don't really want something cold, I loved their cinnamon apple fudge. I had never heard of anything like that but the vendor that year made it taste really good. And I tried a pumpkin pie flavored piece of fudge and that was really good too."

"You guys really go all out here for Autumn don't you?"

"Wait until you actually pull up. I've just talked about little gifts and desserts. It's way better than it sounds." You smiled and you watched a grin begin to form on his face.

After a few minutes you and Beau finally made it to the fair grounds.

When the two of you got out of the truck and made your way to the entrance, Beau's eyes widened. From the looks of it, this was about the size of some sort of city fair. There looked like there were even rides he didn't expect to see and he saw some kids playing some mini games like cornhole while some other kids were playing with horse shoes.

"Wow... You weren't kidding. This place has a ton goin' on." He admitted as he walked beside you.

He hadn't been to something like this in so long that he had forgotten what to initially expect but he had to admit, this did look like fun. Definitely worth stepping away from the office for a while.

"See? I told you it'd be fun." He could practically hear the smirk in your voice and he smirked as the two of you continued to walk together.

From that point on, he basically let you drag him wherever you wanted to go as you showed him around. You convinced him to try some caramel apple fudge. Of course he was a bit skeptical of that kind of flavor but it beat the ice cream, it was way too cold for something like that.

Then some of the rides caught his eye and he saw one that he hadn't gone on since he was in his twenties. It was a pendulum swing and he heard a mixture of laughter along with screams from some girls probably mad at their boyfriends for taking them on that ride. Then he looked at you.

"Why don't we go on that ride?" He asked you, and when you looked at what he was motioning to, you got a little hesitant.

"Are you sure?" You asked and he chuckled.

"What? A spinning swing too scary for the PI? Besides, if you made me try that fudge, I get to take you on a ride." He teased, getting a kick out of messing with you a little.

"What? No! Of course it's not too scary. You've got a deal." You said and he watched you walk over to that line, making him chuckle before he started following after you.

You two waited in the line and he watched the way you were looking up at the ride, watching the way that it would swing back and forth. He couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking about. Whatever it was, you seemed a little deep in it.

But before either of you knew it, it was your turn to board the ride.

When you went onto the ride you and Beau found some spots that were next to each other. You could feel your heart racing in your chest.

Honestly? You didn't think you'd be riding something like this while in your thirties. But you had to admit, stuff like this was bringing back a memory or two. They were bittersweet, but you were trying not to remember the last time you were on one of these. So now you were making new memories and you were happy about that.

Once you were secure in your little spot, you took in a deep breath. A part of you did get a little nervous about these things when you were a kid with the speed and heights of stuff like this, but you supposed it was a little amplified because it had been so long.

Then, the ride started.

The swinging began and you could begin to feel the wind in your hair, then when you felt the ride start to spin around mixed with the swinging, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. And after a few minutes the ride was finally over.

When it came to a stop and you were unbuckled, you could still feel some leftover adrenaline and you were laughing to yourself as you looked up at Beau who was smiling at you after he was finished unbuckling himself.

"I guess I was wrong. Not to scary for you after all." He chuckled and you smiled.

The day went on and you two practically killed most of the day and into the early evening. You could hear some local band beginning to play and when you and Beau walked over to some table to give yourselves a break from walking.

"Beau! Y/N!"

You looked in the direction you could hear the voice coming from and you saw Jenny walking over with Cassie and Denise.

"Well look who joined the party!” You grinned as you got up and hugged all of them.

“So you convinced the good ole sheriff to come out and about, huh?” Denise asked with a playful grin.

“Well I wouldn’t say convince. More like friendly force. She brought coffee so I couldn’t complain too much.” You could hear Beau reply and you chuckled.

You and Beau slid on your benches so the other three ladies would have some place to sit.

“How how long have you guys been out here?” Cassie asked you and you smiled.

“Well since this is Beau’s first Fall Festival here, I thought we should get sort of an early start so he picked me up around ten this mornin.’” You answered.

“Wow, so you’ve been out and about all day, huh?”

“Yeah but it’s been fun. Never in a million years did I think I’d try anything that wasn’t normal fudge. I don’t know if I’d get something like that again.” Beau laughed.

"We've spent most of the day riding on different rides and looking at some of the vendors for some Christmas gift ideas." You spoke.

"Christmas? Already? It's barely the end of October!" Jenny said with a chuckle but you grinned.

"It's never too early to star looking at gift ideas."

"You must be some kind of over achiever. I just wait 'til the last minute. How Tristan cheated on somebody like you, I'll never know." Cassie said and you went quiet.

Beau heard the way you seemed to go silent and watched Hoyt lightly smack Cassie's arm just for Cassie to start rambling.

"Sorry, I just meant that you're great and that he just-"

"No, it's okay, Cassie. You didn't mean anything by it." Beau watched you look at the other girl and smile. But he could tell it wasn't that genuine smile he'd seen you wear earlier that day.

"Well... It's getting kind of chilly. I'm gonna go grab some coffee or cider or something." You said and Beau watched you get up and grab your bag before going to one of the trucks you guys passed.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, wondering if he should go after you. Once he decided to go and check on you, he excused himself. He started looking for you, which didn't take too long for him to do and luckily the line for the coffee was short.

By the time he got to you, you already had your cup and you were sipping from it. That same look you had when the both of you were in line for the first ride was on your face again, but this time you looked a little sad.

As he made his way towards you, he reached out and placed a gently hand on your upper back since he came up from behind. He saw you look up at him before suddenly looking away and start to wipe your eyes.

"You alright, Darlin?" He asked.

"Yeah, coffee was a little hotter than I thought and burned my mouth is all." Unfortunately, even with hot coffee, Beau didn't think your pain tolerance was low enough for you to tear up from a burnt mouth.

He pulled you to the side so you two wouldn't be in the way of people getting their drinks, then he wrapped his arms around your smaller figure. Then he placed his head on the top of your own.

"I don't know how bad things were with you and that Tristan guy, and I won't ask. But I know it probably took a lot for you to ask me to come along with you to this thing. And it's good for both of us." He said softly.

"You told me yesterday that besides getting out of our offices, this would be a good time to make new memories. And that's exactly what we've done today, right?" He asked.

There was a couple of seconds of silence before Beau heard you speak again.

"Yeah.. it was pretty funny watching you eat that fudge and see your reaction to it." You said and he smiled before he lifted his head and looked down at you, seeing you start to grin again.

"Hey, it's not my fault they used a little too much sour apple flavoring." He said and he grinned when he heard you start to laugh.

"Come on.. Let's get out of here. I know the perfect place for us to go and end tonight on a good note." He promised.

The next thing you knew, Beau was taking you in his truck to some back roads. You could tell he was getting more comfortable around these roads. Maybe that was from some of the rides he’d take with Cassie or Jenny to help them with their cases.

Either way, he ended up taking you through the back roads to the top of some cliff side that used to be part of an old hiking trail. There was an opened area, the sky was clear and you could see the stars. You smiled to yourself as you looked out the passenger window but eventually the truck came to a stop.

You heard Beau’s door opening and you started to unbuckle. Then Beau came to your side and opened up the door for you. You thanked him and got out of the truck.

When the two of you were out of the truck, you watched Beau open up the door to the bed of his truck. You watched him hop up into the bed then he offered a hand to for you to take. Once you made it into the bed, you watched Beau open up the toolbox attached to the back and you tilted your head when he pulled out some blankets.

“Do you always have those back there just ready to go?” You asked him with a smile and he grinned.

“A good boy scout is always prepared, right?” You could hear the sheriff and you smiled. Then you helped him get the blankets laid out before the both of you sat down and got comfortable. Then there was another blanket Beau set aside and the two of you got beneath the blanket.

Once the both of you were settled, you looked up at the stars and started to think. This had been the most fun you’ve had in a while. You felt happier that day than you had in the past several months since the divorce.

“Thank you… for coming with me today. You were right. It did take a lot for me to ask you to come. It took a lot for me to even want to come to this thing anyway.” You said.

“Thanks for havin’ me come along, Sweetheart.” He said and he could tell you wanted to open up about something, but he wasn’t sure if you knew where to begin.

“When… When I split up with Emily’s mom, it wasn’t easy. It was even harder when Emily chose to go with Carla, but I can’t get mad at her. That’s her mom. It didn’t help when Carla went and got married to Avery.” He began, hoping you get a little more comfortable if he talked first.

“I used to celebrate some holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas with it just bein’ me and some buddies before I stopped. Haven’t really had much of a reason to go out and go to festivals and what not. The last time I’ve even gone to one was when Emily was a lot younger, Carla and I were in a better spot then but that was that Thanksgiving and Christmas were the last holidays we spent that were happier.”

“Splits are never easy. But like breakups, they get easier after some time. The feeling’s never completely gone, but it’s easier to cope after a while. Putting yourself out there and making yourself go out to places like this, it’s a step in the right direction.”

When he finished talking, he felt you put your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly what he expected you to do, but he was glad that you were a little more comfortable. Then he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you a little closer. Then he heard you starting to speak.

“Tristan… He was the love of my life. Or so I thought.” He heard you begin.

“I met him when I was in high school. We weren’t high school sweethearts, he had a bit of a roaming eye and I wasn’t his type at the time. But by the time I graduated college I ran into Tristan again. We hit it off pretty well and we got married when I was about 26. Unfortunately the honeymoon phase didn’t last a long time. The first two years were great, then the next few were rocky. Then the last few… It was pretty much like Hell. We couldn’t go a day without fighting. Then I found out he was on some dating websites. That lead into a really big argument and we agreed to try counseling. I thought the counseling was working and the last couple of months were happier.” He felt you get a little tense and he moved his arm along your upper back to try and help you relax.

“The last time I came to something like this was with Tristan. He wasn’t really into riding rides like we did today. I went to one of the rides by myself and when I came back from one of them, I saw him with some other girl. I didn’t know if they knew each other, or if he just picked up some random girl. But I caught them making out and that was when I had enough and wanted a divorce.” He heard you continue and he frowned a little.

“I know making out isn’t going all the way and having sex with another person, but to me it’s still the same thing. It’s the morality of it you know?” You continued and he could understand where you were coming from.

“Is that why you were lost in thought when we were in line for that ride?” He asked and felt you nod against his shoulder.

“Yeah… Just brought back some. Bittersweet memories I guess.” You said before you looked at him, and Beau thought his heart was about to stop on him.

“But I guess old memories can be overpowered with new ones, right?” You smiled and so did he.

“Well, I’ll tell you what.. I know Halloween is comin’ up and I know I’ll be busy that night but if you don’t have any Thanksgiving plans, maybe the two of us can do a little something to get us out of this muck we’ve been in.” He suggested and he watched the way your eyes seemed to light up at the idea.

“Yeah, I’d really like that, Beau. Maybe we can do something like that around Christmas time if you don’t have any other plans.” Now it was Beau’s turn to smile.

“Sounds like you’ve got my holidays booked this year. Sounds good to me.” He said and he pulled you a little closer to his side. When your head when back on his shoulder again, he turned and kissed your crown lightly as the two of you looked back up at the sky once more.

“Not bad for a Montana festival.” Beau said with a teasing tone, “Not quite like Texas, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“Oh? Well maybe I’ll have to go down and visit just to see how their little fairs are.” You replied and gave him a little nudge.

“Oh, Darlin’, There’s nothin’ little about Texas.”

“Oh really? Does that go for you too?” You asked with a smirk and he looked down at you only to let out a deep chuckle.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You chuckled at the fact that Beau was playing along but you didn’t think anything would come from this. You couldn’t deny that you would have loved something to develop with the good looking sheriff but you had to stick with what you told Jenny. What you needed was just a friend right now.

You looked up at Beau who was looking up at the stars again. His eyes seemed to sparkle with the moonlight. You leaned over and softly kissed his cheek. When you looked at him, you saw him shift his gaze towards you.

Then, he leaned down and you could feel the warmth of his lips and the tickling from his beard against your mouth. You could taste the coffee on his mouth since he bought himself one before you both left the festival. He smelled like warm cinnamon and some sort of wood like he preferred campfires.

You relaxed against him and began to kiss him back, his hand slowly moved to your hip as you shifted. But when your lips parted, both your foreheads touched.

“And I thought all you needed was a friend.” You breathed out and you could tell he was smirking.

“Well, there’s always Jenny, Cassie and Denise that are the friends. But… is there something wrong with something happening with the both of us?” He asked you.

“Well… On one condition.”

“And what’s that, Darlin?’”

“You can’t make fun of me if I’ve got some pumpkin spice paraphernalia in my fridge.”

“See, that’s half the fun, Sweetheart.” You laughed and rolled your eyes at the remark.

“Okay, only if you try some of the creamer in your coffee, just to say you tried it.”

“Ugh, alright.” You could hear the annoyance in Beau’s voice and you chuckled.

“I’m joking.” You reassured and took one of his hands.

“But I think you’re right. I don’t think it would hurt if something hypothetically happened.” You said and he gave your hands a gentle squeeze.

“I think… this could be a good adventure for us.” He said and you leaned in to kiss him again.

So what if you kind of jumped the gun. Jenny said not to shut the door when it’s barely been opened. But you were pretty sure that this door was opening up more and making a way for new possibilities for you. Beau seemed really sweet and ever since he came to Montana, things have been happier for you.

So… on to a new adventure!

Thank you guys for reading and I hope you enjoyed! No matter what stage in life you’re in, there’s always a chance for a new adventure! Life has many doors that can be opened, don’t be afraid to walk through 💕💕💕

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@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @posiemax @deanwinchestersgirl87 @impala67rollingthroughtown

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