#i think it will probably work out cause we finally got to speak to a human being

[erasedcitizen2]

trying to buy 50% of my boyfriend's apartment (which we currently live in and he owns 100% right now)... and I'm applying for loans for buying an apartment for the first time and holy fuck it's frustrating. several banks have auto denied my application without even speaking to me because they think i'm a single person with a single income trying to buy an apartment, when that's not even the case. and even if it was it's making me incredibly sad to realize that if I WAS single I could not even at the age of 30 buy a single room apartment on my own. even tho i have the money saved up for a deposit and according to my own calculations i would have the ability to make payments on the loan even if i was alone (i don't have a very high salary but i also don't spend much money so i do fine). but based on numbers alone the banks would deny my application without even talking to me.

[the-acid-pear]

A good chunk of my dream today was spent on a bus traveling with my dad where after a very long while of being annoyed by an old woman an old classmate whose face and voice i remember but his name i don't encouraged me to tell her, and tell her i did. At first i started speaking formally but by the end I snapped and i was straight up screaming about how she's annoying and i hate to see her face every time i get on this goddamn bus and it was time someone told her these things. There wasn't a reaction from anyone because i was waking up tho so the dream fell apart before my own eyes.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　TOO MUCH

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

WARNING: Insecurities, fighting, crying, anxiety attack.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The noise in the living room had escalated from playful teasing in front of the camera to sharp, biting words. Chris stood behind the kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at Matt and Nick, who were both looking at him from the other side of the table with expressions caught between frustration and exasperation.

"Do you ever think before you act, Chris?" Matt's voice was, surprisingly, raised, an edge of impatience in his tone. "We can’t get through one day without you doing something childish and making a scene, or worse, making our videos look like shit because of it!"

Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes darting between his brothers, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so out of hand.

"I wasn’t trying to do anything." He muttered finally, his voice barely above a whisper laced with hurt. "I was just... being myself."

"Yeah, exactly." Nick jumped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And that’s the problem. You’re always yelling and doing the most, Chris. It’s just... exhausting, okay?"

Chris clenched his fists, jaw tight as he glared at Nick, feeling himself crumbling a bit because sure, he’s too much. Sure, he speaks too loud and had opinions about everything and wasn’t afraid to share them, even if they were about the silliest things. Sure, he feels cornered and childish and immature and annoying, and most of what they're saying is probably true, but hearing his own brothers say it out loud... it pains his heart.

"You know, that’s actually rich coming from you." He shot back, his voice carrying a frustration he couldn’t hold back, trying to disguise his pain with anger. "You’re always the first to say that people watch us because we’re different, because even though we look the same, we're still different. But all you ever do is complain that I’m not just like you or Matt!”

Nick’s expression shifted, taken aback by Chris’s words. But Nick wasn’t one to back down, his voice snapping back almost before Chris had finished speaking.

"That’s not what I’m saying at all!" He fired, eyes narrowing. "Is it so insane to want you to stop yelling and acting like a literal child in every video? We’re trying to be professional, Chris! People like us, yeah, but they won’t if you keep acting like-"

Chris dragged a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, trying to shut out Nick’s words, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood.

"... and we can’t keep dealing with it, Chris. Grow the fuck up."

The youngest felt his chest tighten even more. His greatest insecurity - one that clawed at his chest every night when he couldn’t sleep, when the silence around him became deafening - was now on full display, brutally brought to life by the people he trusted most.

The internet was relentless in labeling him as "the weird one", the "annoying triplet", just because he was loud and talked too much, just because he was unapologetically himself. He’d laugh it off, of course, joke about it even because it was easier to pretend it didn’t bother him. But deep down, those words haunted him, scraping at the edges of his self-worth, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t enough.

And now, hearing Matt and Nick throw those same words at him... he felt hollow. Like all the air had been knocked from his lungs. They knew. They knew how those comments got to him, how hard he tried to ignore it, to rise above the criticism.

"Fine." He said bitterly, hating how his voice trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I’ll get out of your way, then."

He pushed his weight off of the table, preparing himself to get out of there, but as Chris stormed away, Nick's frustration boiled over, and he turned to Matt, his voice sharp and incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

But Chris kept walking, his shoulders tense as he made his way to the stairs, refusing to let himself look back. His brothers’ voices felt like static at this point, blending into the background as he forced himself to keep going.

Behind him, Matt muttered under his breath, an edge of impatience creeping in.

"Why is he being so dramatic?" He called, exasperation evident in his tone. "Chris, just come back, man! Let’s finish this video."

But Chris didn’t even slow down. Each word felt like salt in a wound he was struggling to ignore, a constant reminder that he wasn’t on the same level as them, that they were all looking at him like he was the problem.

Maybe he was.

As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing, every emotion simmering just below the surface.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached his bedroom door, a mix of anger, shame, and sadness twisting in his chest, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep it together. He wanted to scream, to push all the hurt away.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Y/N - curled up on his bed with notebooks spread around her and laptop balanced on her knees - looked up instantly, a huge smile spreading across her face as she noticed him, her expression so genuinely happy to see him that it made his heart ache even more.

"Hi, honey! How was filming?" She greeted brightly, unaware of the turmoil written across his face.

But her smile faltered quickly as she took in his red-rimmed eyes, the way his face seemed almost haunted, his body tense and trembling as he stood frozen in the doorway. She blinked, worry flashing across her features.

"Chris? Hey, what happened?" The girl whispered, and her words were like a lifeline, breaking the dam he’d tried so hard to keep in place.

She was quick in put her work together, placing her notebooks and laptop gently onto the floor beside her, leaving it all opened for her to come back to it later, her arms instinctively opening up to him.

"Come here, baby."

Without another thought, Chris crossed the room and collapsed into her open arms, sinking onto the bed as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear alone.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face burrowing into her shoulder as if he could somehow hide from everything that had been clawing at him. His legs slid between her thighs, his body curling into hers, every part of him drawn in close, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She could feel the way his shoulders shook, the silent sobs racking through him as he tried to hold back, his breath catching painfully against her neck. She held him even tighter, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading gently through his fluff hair as she pressed soft, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his temple, anywhere she could reach.

"Shh... It’s okay, sweetheart." She murmured softly, pressing her lips to his line of hair. "I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe, Chris. Just breathe, baby."

But Chris felt anything but safe in his own skin. Shame and hurt twisted inside him, tightening like a vice around his chest. He tried to fold himself even smaller, curling tighter into her, trying to somehow look smaller for a 5'8 grown man, pressing his body as close to hers as he could.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into her embrace, and let the world live freely without his presence. The words Matt and Nick had thrown at him - the very same words he read online, the labels he was used to brushing off - felt so true, so much a part of him that he couldn’t deny them.

Childish. Annoying. Immature.

He hated himself in that moment, hated how much he cared, hated how the words dug under his skin, making him feel unworthy, unloved.

"Am I... am I really that annoying?" He whispered, his voice cracking and sounding more horse than it should. "Do you... Do you think I’m too much, too?"

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she heard his words, the broken way he spoke them. She frowned deeply, pulling back just enough to look down at him, her hand cupping his wet cheek as she met his gaze, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down his face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." She shook her head gently, her voice laced with disbelief and fierce love. "No. No, Chris, of course not. You’re not annoying. You’re not too much. You’re everything I could ever want. You’re perfect exactly the way you are."

He clenched his fists, gripping onto Y/N’s hoodie - or better, his own blue hoodie -, his knuckles white with the force of it as he tried to agree with her, but her words didn’t seem to reach him. His brow furrowed, his eyes filling with fresh tears as he choked out.

"They said... They said I’m always yelling, being loud, making a scene... like I’m always... embarrassing them." His voice caught on the last words, his breath hitching as he fought to keep from breaking down completely.

Y/N held him tighter, her hand moving to the bottom of his white shirt, traveling inside of it only to rub soothing circles along his naked back as she spoke in a soft, steady tone, hoping her words would anchor him.

"Chris, they love you. They’re just... they don’t understand how much their words hurt sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re a burden or that you’re too much. You bring so much joy and energy to everything. That’s part of who you are, and it’s one of the things I love most about you."

He shook his head slightly, his breathing coming faster as anxiety started to build again, overtaking him.

"I... I just don’t get it. One minute, they’re saying people watch us because we’re different... and then they tell me I should be more like them. I don’t... I don’t know how to be that. I tried so hard to be like them, you have to believe me, but I don’t know how to change who I am-"

Y/N felt the depth of his frustration in the desperate way that he begged, wanting - no, needing - her to believe him. She cupped his face gently, urging him to look at her.

"You don’t have to change, Chris. Not for anyone. You’re enough just as you are, baby. And you’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone who really sees you and loves you for who you are."

He nodded slowly, finally trying to take a deep breath, only to feel like his nose was closed and his throat was being chocked by invisible hands. He closed his eyes forcefully, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to breathe in a gulp of air that never seemed to be enough. Chris could feel his heart tightening, his chest struggling in the quick movements of going up and down too many times in a second.

"Can't- I... Please-" He tried, tightening his hands around her hoodie, panicking with the anxiety attack that seemed to come so suddenly.

"Hey, hey, Chris. Sweetheart, you’re okay." Y/N whispered softly, her voice a calming presence against the storm inside him. She shifted slightly, one hand now resting on his chest with a firm press as she guided him through deep breaths, her own voice slow and steady. "Come on, just breathe with me, okay? In... and out... Nice and slow. I’m right here with you."

Following her lead, Chris pressed his eyes tighter in a way that made him see stars behind his eyelids, focusing on the rhythm of her voice, the rise and fall of her own breathing against his fists. With each exhale, he felt a bit of the tension release, his chest loosening as he tried to match her calming breaths.

Gradually, his racing heart began to slow, the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him feeling heavy, exhausted.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"There you go. That’s it... Well done, my strong boy. Now, just relax. I’ve got you."

As his breathing evened out, Chris opened his eyes slowly, his blurred gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that tore at her heart.

"You don’t have to carry all of this alone, Chris. I’m always here for you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, okay? I love you... so much." She leaned down, pressing another kiss to his forehead as she held him close, her voice soft.

The gentle reassurance, the quiet love in her words wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him further into her warmth. His eyelids grew heavier, the tiredness finally catching up with him as he let himself surrender to the comfort of her arms, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I know, honey. Sleep." Y/N whispered, a tender smile on her lips as she cradled him closer, holding him like a mother would hold her kid, her hands tracing soothing patterns along his back. "You can rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As she continued to whisper soft reassurances, her fingers running gently through his hair, Chris’s breathing finally evened out, his body relaxing completely in her arms. His head rested on the curve of her neck, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he drifted off, his pain and worries slipping away in the safety of her embrace.

Y/N leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his hair before laying her cheek against his head, her arms wrapped securely around his body as she watched over him.

"I love you, sweet boy."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A couple of hours had passed, the sunsetting casting a soft, warm light over Chris’s room, where he and Y/N lay wrapped together on the bed. Chris’s face was nestled against her shoulder, his breathing steady and calm now, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

Outside the room, Matt and Nick exchanged a glance. They’d been standing in the hallway for nearly five minutes, trying to muster the courage to knock. Their earlier argument with Chris had weighed heavily on both of them, guilt twisting in their stomachs as they replayed every hurtful word that had left their mouths.

Finally, Matt raised his fist and knocked softly on Chris’s door, the faint sound echoing in the silence. When there was no answer, he hesitated, glancing at Nick before slowly pushing the door open.

They both froze at the sight before them. Chris and Y/N were curled up together on the bed, Chris’s face still damp from tears as he lay against her, completely relaxed in her arms. Y/N had one arm around his shoulders, her fingers resting in his hair, while her other hand was hiding inside his shirt, holding his back, cradling him protectively. They looked peaceful.

Matt’s heart clenched at the sight, guilt intensifying as he took in Chris’s tear-streaked face. He glanced over at Nick, who was staring down at his feet, clearly feeling the same crushing remorse.

"Let's go. We can come back later." Matt muttered, pulling Nick towards himself before starting to back out of the room, thinking it might be best to give Chris a bit more time.

But just as they were about to close the door, Chris stirred, shifting slightly in Y/N’s arms. He nuzzled his head on her shoulder, his face just inches from the gentle slope of her neck where he could still catch the faint, familiar scent of her perfume mingling with the natural warmth of her skin.

He moved slightly, careful not to wake her, though his movement caused her to pull him in closer, her fingers instinctively brushing over his back. The feeling of her hand tracing small, soothing circles over his shoulder as if it was a muscle memory grounded him further, coaxing a soft sigh from him as he nuzzled deeper into her embrace, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss to her neck.

When his sleepy eyes finally traveled around the room while gently stretching his legs between hers, he finally caught Matt and Nick's figures standing in the doorway.

His face fell the instant he realized they were there, his peaceful expression replaced by a guarded, distant look. Carefully, he eased himself up, making sure not to wake Y/N as he pulled himself away from her arms.

"Came for round two?" He looked at Matt and Nick, his sleepy voice laced with bitterness as he asked.

Nick swallowed, words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. What an irony. He opened his mouth but only managed to mumble, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out.

Finally, Nick took a small step closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Chris, I... we came to say... We just..." His pearly teeth caged his bottom lip momentarily, taking a deep breath. "We love that you’re different."

Chris stared at him, incredulous, eyebrows raised as he scoffed softly.

"Different? That’s what you’re leading with?" His eyes narrowed, hurt simmering just beneath the surface. "So now I’m the ‘different’ one? Funny, ‘cause that didn’t seem to be a good thing a few hours ago."

Nick faltered, his face flushing as he realized his words weren’t coming out the way he intended. He tried again, tripping over his explanation.

"No, no, I... I didn’t mean it like that. I just-"

Chris took a deep, shaky breath, his gaze lowered as he avoided Nick and Matt's eyes, interrupting Nick.

"Look, I want to apologize, alright?" He started, his voice barely more than a murmur, thick with emotion. "I know it was all my fault and that I’m a lot to handle. I get it. I can be too loud, too... everything, really. And I know I’m not like you guys. I’ve tried so hard to be, but it’s just... not me." His words hung heavy in the room, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap. "I feel like sometimes I just ruin things because I don’t know how to turn it off. You two seem to have this balance, you know when to joke and when to be serious, and I’m over here just... always pushing things too far."

He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brothers', the weight of insecurity and years of self-doubt written all over his face.

"I’m sorry if it feels like you have to put up with me. I’ve tried to be more like you, but it’s never enough. And sometimes... it just feels like who I am isn’t what anyone wants." His voice cracked at the last words, his vulnerability laid bare, and he quickly looked away, bracing himself for whatever they would say.

Nick and Matt shared a look, each seeing the guilt mirrored in the other’s eyes as Chris’s words sank in, cutting through them like a blade.

Matt felt his chest tighten, a pang of regret settling heavily in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. How could he have let Chris - his little brother, the boy who was always loving him no matter what - believe, even for a second, that he wasn’t wanted exactly as he was?

His legs moved on instinct, carrying him back into the room before he even registered it, straight to Chris, who looked so small and hurt, slumped at the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, Matt reached out, placing a steadying hand on Chris’s knee, his fingers gently pressing into his brother’s skin as if trying to ground him.

"Chris, you’re our little brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much for us." He swallowed, his voice wavering as he continued, willing Chris to see and feel every word. "I love you, man. We love you for who you are. You don’t need to change a thing. It’s your energy, your spark that makes everything better. You have this way of bringing life into everything, and that’s something I wouldn’t change for anything." He looked into Chris’s eyes, his own gaze filled with a raw honesty. "We need you to be you, Chris. No one else."

Nick’s heart clenched as he watched, his own guilt building with every second. Gaining control over the hurt and regret flooding him, he crossed the room in long strides, dropping down beside Matt. He looked up at Chris, his throat tight with emotion, the sight of his little brother so closed-off, so wounded, cutting deep. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him.

"Yeah... you being another person? That’s not what we want at all. We’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re perfect the way you are, Chris." Nick’s voice shook, filled with a determination to make Chris understand the truth, to undo every careless word he and Matt had thrown his way earlier. "I'm so, so sorry that we said all of those things and made you think so bad about yourself."

Chris’s defenses wavered, his resolve crumbling as he glanced between his brothers. Their sincerity seeped through, but doubt still clouded his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, loosening his grip on his hoodie just a bit.

"You promise?" His voice was barely a whisper, fragile and laced with uncertainty, his fingers twisting anxiously into the fabric of his sleeve.

Without hesitation, Nick reached forward, taking Chris’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing firmly.

"We promise. We love how wild you are, how you’re always the one bringing the energy. You’re louder, sure, but that’s not something bad, it's exactly what makes you, you. You’re the happiest out of the three of us, Chris, and we wouldn’t change that for anything." He gave Chris’s hand another reassuring squeeze, feeling the smallest hint of relief when he saw the younger brother begin to relax, if only slightly.

Matt nodded, adding gently.

"And hey, I don’t think we need to be professional or act in a type of way for our videos to be good. The viewers love us for who we are... the mix of chaos and calm. That’s what makes us, us. It’s why they stick around."

Chris took a shaky breath, letting their words settle over him, feeling the weight of them begin to ease some of the pain. Slowly, he nodded, his fingers curling back around Nick’s reassuring grip.

"Okay."

Matt leaned forward, placing a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"We’ll do better, alright? We’re brothers. We’re gonna mess up, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have each other’s backs. Always."

Chris exhaled deeply, finally letting the tension melt away as he leaned into their touch, the comfort of his brothers grounding him in a way only they could. Straightening himself, he managed a small, tired smile, his heart feeling a bit lighter.

"Yeah... always."

"Well, I’m really glad you guys are okay again." Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, bringing all three heads up in surprise.

She moved with a quiet strength as she sat up and brushed her hand tenderly through Chris’s hair, watching his face light up as he realized she’d been awake all along.

"But just so we’re clear... if either of you hurt my baby like that again, you’re going to have to answer to me." She turned her gaze to Nick and Matt, a playful but fierce glint in her eyes.

"Y/N..." Chris dragged the last letter of her name in a whining tone, feeling flustered with how she called him 'her baby' in front of his brothers - even though they were more than accustomed with it.

Nick’s eyes widened jokingly with her threat, a chuckle escaping him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, glancing at Matt as if to say, 'Well, we better watch out'. Matt nodded, eyes a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright, no more ganging up on Chris. You have our word, Y/N."

Content with their promises, Y/N turned her attention back to Chris, opening her arms and pulling him into her embrace once more. He let out a soft sigh, sinking into her warmth, his head nestled against her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, fingers tracing soothing circles along his back as she whispered.

"I told you they didn't mean it." He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him, the last bits of hurt melting away.

Nick and Matt watched the two of them, a fondness softening their expressions.

"You know." She murmured, pulling Chris's head away from her chest and looking at him with a mischievous grin. "You’re pretty lucky to have all of us wrapped around your finger."

Chris laughed, a real laugh this time, the sound full of relief and love.

"Yeah, I know. I just... I guess I forget sometimes."

"Well." Nick started, squeezing Chris’s shoulder with a grin. "We’re not going anywhere. So next time, just remind us if we’re being idiots, alright?"

Chris nodded, glancing gratefully at each of them, feeling more grounded and cherished than he had in a long time.

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: inspired by taylor swift’s song “guilty as sin”

alsooo i just had to get this out of my system because ahhhh!!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

[munsonsmixtapes]

Maybe I Do

Buck x Eddie x fem!firefighter!reader

summary: you and Eddie are in a secret relationship and Buck wants to be apart of it, only for you to reject him. But when a new member joins the 118 and starts flirting with Buck, you and Eddie realize that you actually do like him.

word count: 4k

cw: make out session, reader has a panic attack, hurt/comfort

based on a comment on this post by @unknown-2505

"We should probably stop," you told Eddie as you went in for another kiss. "We're going to be late."

"Tell them that we were stuck in traffic." He licked into your mouth and you let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue scratching against yours. You were straddling his waist as the two of you sat in the passenger seat of your car, trying to get in a quickie before you had to go into work.

"Eddie," you laughed. "C'mon." But he just pulled you in for another kiss, trying to get to any place he could reach as you grabbed your shirt from the driver’s seat. You put it on and Eddie helped you button it, whining about needing one more kiss. He was always like that, never able to get enough of your lips. Especially since he was about to go into a long shift with a single one.

You had mutually decided to keep it a secret since you didn’t want everyone meddling into your love life. And it was kind of fun sneaking around. It was hot sneaking off to the bathroom to have a quickie, your hearts pounding as you tried to keep quiet so no one would hear you. And as far as you were concerned, no one knew.

You opened the door and Eddie helped you out before you grabbed your duffel and hurried into the station. Eddie counted to sixty then copied you, hurrying into the station a minute after you so nobody would have been suspicious about the two of you coming in together.

You both put your stuff away in your locker, Buck not far behind. He stood next to you as he put his things away, nudging your shoulder as he did so. It was something that he did every morning without fail. It was his very subtle way of telling you that he was interested in you. So subtle that you hadn’t even realized that was what he was hinting at.

He had liked Eddie for a long time, but when you came along, he knew he was fucked. You were just so pretty and nice, and seeing the two of you together was a lethal combo. You were both so hot that it was causing his bi panic to skyrocket. And he slowly started to realize that he was in love with the both of you. Head over heel, completely and totally in love. So much so that it was making him feel sick.

And it wasn’t like he could tell either of you. You would have been supportive, of course, that was just how the two of you were, but he was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t the right idea to tell you. As far as he was concerned, he was taking that shit to the grave. It was far too embarrassing to admit it. How could he go about telling his two best friends that he was in love with them?

“Buck?” You asked, nudging his shoulder. “You still with us?” He finally came back to the real world to see your beautiful eyes looking at him. You almost seemed concerned and he didn’t like that. He appreciated that you worried about him (maybe a bit too much) but he didn’t need you to. He didn’t need you wasting that kind of energy on him. He didn’t think he deserved it.

“Huh?” He asked, completely unaware that you had even been speaking to him. He was too far into his own little world.

“We were wondering if you were still going out with us tonight,” Eddie said and Buck had to try his hardest not to stare at Eddie’s flexed arm as he put his bag into his locker.

“Yeah, of course,” Buck nodded as he forced himself to turn away. “I’m always in.”

“Good because it’s my treat because,” you paused for dramatic effect and held up your keys, showing him the newest addition.

“You got it?” He asked excitedly, reaching out for the key.

“I did,” you smiled proudly. “Got the keys yesterday. Can you believe it, Buck? A place that’s all mine.” Well, a place that was yours and Eddie’s and Christopher’s, but Buck didn’t need to know that.

You both felt horrible for hiding it from him, but you felt like it was for the best. Yes, you were pretty serious considering that him and his son had moved in with you, but you still didn’t feel like it was the right time to lay everything on the table.

You knew everyone would be supportive, especially Buck, but it just felt much better to keep it to yourself for the time being. You felt like telling everyone the truth would only make things weird with you and Eddie you had been hiding for about six months and it just would have been odd to spill everything now. Plus, you thought the whole secrecy thing was hot.

“I’ll have to see it sometime,” he said, leaning in a bit too close to you, but he couldn’t help it. You just smelled so good.

“I guess you will,” you smiled back only to see Eddie making a motion to stop you from speaking. “I-I mean, maybe,” you shrugged.

“What?” Buck was very confused by your response, turning around to see what you were looking at and Eddie turned his back to head out of the locker room.

“Nothing,” you smiled brightly.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s acting weird,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive manner. Buck stepped closer to you, resting a hand on your arm. He was getting concerned, wondering if there was something that you were too afraid to tell him. But you could tell him, he wouldn’t judge you, in fact, he would have helped you through whatever it was.

“What’s really going on?” He asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. You felt horrible lying to him, but you were just doing what you thought was right.

“Nothing, seriously, Buck. I appreciate you worrying about me, but you don’t need to.” You removed his hand from your shoulder and took it in both of yours. “I swear.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “But you know you can come to me with anything, right?”

“I know that,” you nodded.

“Good.” With that, you both fled the locker room and all headed up the stairs where the rest of the 118 was resting, waiting around for a call. You sat on the sofa next to Eddie, making sure to keep space between your bodies so as to not look suspicious.

He was watching the TV across from the couch intently. So much so that you were convinced that he hadn’t even seen you. But not long after you sat down, he slowly inched his hand towards yours. You looked over your shoulder to see everyone in the kitchen getting coffee, so you took Eddie’s hand, intertwining your fingers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

You ran your thumb over them as the two of you watched the TV, a silly comedy playing on the TV. But you weren’t really watching. All you could think about was what Buck had said about you acting weird. Did he know what was going on with you and Eddie? He had to if he was calling your behavior, right? And he was also suspicious of Eddie now that he thought about it.

Now that someone knew, you were concerned that you were going to have to call the whole thing off. You really loved Eddie and didn’t want to give up on him. You couldn’t. Especially since you had just moved in together. Especially since you had just gotten Christopher used to moving to a new place and he actually seemed to be happy with it.

Your life had changed for the better since they had entered it and you weren’t going to give it up. You couldn’t. This was only the beginning. And you weren’t going to let Buck’s knowledge of your relationship ruin it.

“So, what are you two up to?” Hen asked as she leaned over the back of the sofa. Both you and Eddie let go of each other’s hand when you noticed her presence and if he saw it, she didn’t say anything.

“Watching TV, obviously,” Eddie laughed nervously. Hen rounded the sofa and sat on the cushion between the two of you. Hen had been suspicious of the two of you for months and seeing you hold hands like that confirmed them. The way the two of you behaved around each other was much more than friendly even if the others couldn’t see through it like she could.

She was supportive, though. She had seen the attraction since you first showed up and she was nothing but happy for the two of you. She was just hoping that Buck was going to be okay, though. He had confided in her about his crush on the both of you and was concerned how that was all going to do go down. Buck was like a little brother to her and she wanted to protect him at all costs.

Because of her suspicion, Hen told him to hold off on telling the two of you how he felt. She could see how much he was aching because of how strong his feelings were, but there was no way she was going to tell him that the two of you were together. It wasn’t any of her business and she didn’t want to make anything weird between the three of you. You were so close and she wasn’t going to take the blame for breaking the three of you up.

“Listen,” she said, motioning for you both to lean forward. You listened and leaned closer, Hen’s voice lowering to a whisper. “I know about the two of you.” Both of you widened your eyes and turned to each other. You swore you weren’t that obvious, but supposed that if anyone could have figured it out, it would have been Hen.

“But-” you tried to speak, but Bobby’s voice cut you off.

“Alright, everyone, listen up,” he called out and you all turned into him, your eyes immediately catching onto the man and woman who were standing on either side of him. “This is Hazel,” he rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “And Benjamin,” his other hand landed on the man’s shoulder. “They’re the newest members of the 118 so treat them like one of us, alright?”

Just as the words left his mouth, the siren went off and you all were flying down the stairs to head to the engine. Everyone was able to fit except Chimney and Hen who were taking the ambulance. You were in between Eddie and Buck, both of the new members of the crew sitting across from you along with Ravi.

You could hear Buck and Eddie making conversation with them, but you weren’t paying attention, their words sounding all muffled as you got too into your head. You didn’t think you and Eddie had been obvious, but considering Hen had figured you out, you were convinced that everyone else knew as well. And now you were afraid Bobby was going to transfer you because the two of you were dating because you knew that it was against the rules for the two of you to be romantically linked.

After the call, the engine pulled back up to the fire house and once you got out, you headed to the women’s bathroom, beckoning for Eddie to follow, counting to a minute before he met you there. You locked the both of you in the handicapped stall and Eddie was quick to rest his hands on your waist, leaning in for a kiss, but you out your hand on his chest to stop him.

“We’re not here to make out, Eddie.”

“Then what are we here for?”

“We need to talk.” He didn’t like the sound of that. Oh god, you were going to break up with him. That was usually what those words meant. At least, whenever he had heard them, that was what they had meant.

You couldn’t break up with him. You had such a good thing going. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him and he couldn’t let you slip through his fingers because of something stupid that he had done. At least, he assumed it was his fault. All of his breakups were.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” you told him and he let out a deep breath.

“Thank god. Then what is this about?”

“I think we need to tell everyone about us.”

“Why?”

“Hen knows so it’s only a matter of time before everyone else does too.” Eddie supposed you were right. He didn’t think that Hen would tell anyone, but he thought it was best that you both just came clean.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do. You know that.” His hand reached up and pushed your hair behind your ears before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Let’s tell them tomorrow morning,” you said. “It’s been a long day.”

“I agree,” he nodded. “So now that that’s settled…”

“I guess I can agree to that,” you rolled your eyes. Eddie smiled down at you, backing you up against the wall before pressing his lips to yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his went to your waist, picking you up from the floor and your legs wrapped around his middle as he pinned you to the wall as he licked into your mouth.

He unbuttoned the first few buttons of your shirt and pushed it down your shoulders before going straight for your neck, licking and sucking on the spot, eliciting a moan from your lips. This was by far his favorite thing to do to you whenever you were together like this. He loved the noises you made and the way he was able to make you come undone just by sucking on your skin. And when he was done, you were able to cover it up with the collar of your shirt. It was something just for the two of you. Your own little secret.

“So good, Eddie,” you moaned and that only encouraged him, intending on making you orgasm just from giving you a hickey. “We-we have to go back soon or they’ll get suspicious,” you told him through your labored breaths. There was a truth to your words, but you both were just too caught up in how good you felt to stop.

He continued to lick and suck, wanting the mark he was creating to be dark. So much so that there was no way for you to hide it with makeup. He wanted to stand behind you in the mirror in your shared bathroom while both of you admired the pretty bruise.

“Hold on, honey,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m doing my best work.” His teeth grazed your skin and you swore you were going to melt. If he hadn’t have been holding you, you were sure that your legs would have given out.

“Sh-shit, Ed. Do that again.” Your words were already slurring and he was positive that was a record of how quick he was to make you come undone. He did as you asked and grazed the spot with his teeth, harder this time. Your hands moved to his hair and you gave it a yank in response to the pleasure coursing through you.

He bit down on the mark that was forming, but not enough to break the skin, and you moaned, even louder this time. Surely someone would have heard you from outside the bathroom, but you didn’t care. You were just so focused on Eddie and his mouth.

You collapsed against him and he licked a stripe across the forming bruise to diffuse the sting before pulling away from you completely. He smiled down at the pretty mark he had made, the thing shining with his spit then set you down on the floor. He then began to button up your shirt, taking his time to make sure that all of the buttons were lined up properly. You had almost gotten caught week before because of that very thing and neither of you were going to repeat your errors.

-

The bar was pretty empty when you, Eddie and Buck arrived. The three of you hurried inside and ordered a round of shots to celebrate another job well done. The day had been pretty busy and now you were all ready to unwind. Well, you and Eddie were. Buck was just ready to tell you both the truth about the feelings he was harboring. He felt like he needed to get the words out no matter what Hen said. He knew that she was just looking out for him, but he had holding his feelings in for far too long.

He looked at the both of you and noticed the look you were sharing. It was almost…romantic. In that moment, he realized what was happening. The two of you were together. Now it all made sense. The sneaking off, the two of you coming back with your hair messed up and your shirts buttoned weirdly. Buck had been so preoccupied with his crush on both of you that he hadn’t been paying attention. Until now.

“Buck?” You asked, nudging him shoulder.

“Huh?” He was finally focusing in again. His mind in reality.

“Are you okay, man?” Eddie asked. “You’ve been spacey all day.”

“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” He headed towards an open table and sat down, both you and Eddie following him.

“What is it?” You asked as you sat across from him, setting your hand on top of his that was resting on the table. He immediately pulled it away and shook his head, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

“Look,” he let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “What I’m going to say is going to sound crazy.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Eddie replied as he sipped on the beer he had ordered. He was convinced that he would be supportive of whatever Buck was going to tell him.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You can tell us.”

“Fine. But remembered that you asked for it.” He ran his hands down his face and downed the shot that he had been too stunned to drink, hoping that would help with his nerves. “I’m in love with you,” he said. “Both of you.” Both of your eyes widened and you turned to each other in shock.

Out of all all the things Buck could have said, you definitely weren’t expecting that. You kind of assumed he had feelings for Eddie, but you? You didn’t even think that you were his type. But now you guessed you were. You were surprised to say the least. You and Eddie had been together for months and nobody new, but now you were going to have to confess two things. One, that you were together, and two, that you didn’t feel the same way. At least, you didn’t. You didn’t feel like it was right to speak for Eddie.

“Buck,” Eddie replied in surprise. Unfortunately, Eddie hadn’t felt the same way either. Maybe he did once upon a time, but as soon as he met you everything changed. And now he felt bad for not reciprocating his feelings. That was his best friend and he didn’t want to hurt him. He had already been through so much and now Eddie was about to absolutely crush him.

“Can you give us a minute to discuss?” You asked. “Order yourself a drink on us,” you handed him your card so he could start a tab and he took it, unsure of what was happening.

“S-sure,” he stuttered as he stood from the table. He knew it was a mistake. He should have just kept his big mouth shut. And now both of you were going to reject him and he was going to feel like shit. Well, he always did, but this was going to make the feeling so much worse.

“Eddie, what the fuck do we do?” You whispered, leaning towards him as you watched Buck order a beer, already looking so dejected. “God, I feel so bad.”

“So you don’t feel that way about him either?” He was hoping that that at least you did so Buck wouldn’t be completely rejected, but clearly that wasn’t happening.

“No and I feel horrible. What do we do?”

“We need to tread lightly,” Eddie replied. “He’s already so fragile.”

You waved Buck back over and he sat at the table, already knowing what was going to happen. You grabbed Eddie’s hand and you both looked at him with such pity. It was almost as if you were a married couple telling their child that you were divorcing. He felt so pathetic, resisting the urge to not hear your answer and leave, but unfortunately, he had ridden with you, so he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Well, we talked it over,” you turned to Eddie then turned back to Buck.

“You don’t like me,” Buck finished, lowering his head, no longer wanting to look either of you in the eye.

“We’re so sorry, Buck,” Eddie replied.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved it off. “I’m just gonna head out if that’s okay.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Nah,” he stood up from the table, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his phone. “Have a good night, guys.”

You collapsed into your chair, feeling defeated. You knew it wasn’t your fault that Buck’s feelings weren’t reciprocated, but you couldn’t feel like it was. You had gotten in between them, ruining anything that could have happened between them and now nothing would. At least, not according to Eddie with the engagement ring he had hidden in the drawer of his bedside table.

It was all so unfair. And now Eddie felt like the best friendship he ever had was ruined because feelings got in the way. And he wasn’t going to blame Buck. Not at all. It wasn’t his fault he had feelings for the both of you, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that neither of you felt the same way. God, it was all just so fucked.

-

You entered the firehouse the next morning only to see Buck flirting with the newbies right in front of the engine. And they were flirting right back. Hazel was giggling at whatever Buck had said and Benjamin was fiddling with Buck’s collar. You weren’t sure why, but the whole thing made him feel sick. You avoided them as you headed to your locker, Buck watching you the whole time.

He hadn’t meant to do use them, but they were right there. And they were interested. He wasn’t trying to make you and Eddie jealous or anything like that. He was just…lonely. He wasn’t going to do anything with them, just a little harmless flirting to mend his heart and then he’d be good.

Eddie entered the locker room to see that you hadn’t even put your stuff away. You were standing there, staring at Buck and the probies. He could see the anger in your eyes and if he wasn’t mistaken, he would have said you were jealous. But why would you have been? You had discussed the whole situation at length the night before that you weren’t going to pursue Buck and now there you were, looking like you were seeing red.

“Hon,” Eddie stepped over to you, grabbing onto your arm. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You didn’t know why it upset you so much, but it did. You knew that you said you didn’t like him like that, but…maybe now you did. Maybe all you needed was a little jealousy to make you realize it.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked, titling your head up so you’d look him in his pretty, brown eyes. Truthfully, Eddie had to. He had thought it over the whole night and was beginning to think that he was making a mistake. Especially seeing Buck with other people.

“I think so. But Eddie, I think he hates us.”

“I don’t hate you,” Buck replied and you both turned to him, eyes wide. You supposed that you and Eddie had been so caught up in your conversation that you hadn’t noticed Buck had been standing there. “I’m more than happy to do this if you are. We can just pretend like last night never even happened.”

You and Eddie turned to each other before nodding enthusiastically. The thought of adding another person to your relationship seemed strange, but since you were all game, it actually seemed kind of exciting.

“We’re in,” you both replied in unison.

“Good,” Buck nodded, striding over to the both of you, his voice now hushed. “I’ll see the both of you in the bathroom in five minutes,” he winked then fled the locker room, leaving the both of you buzzing with nothing but nerves and excitement. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

[cheriden]

˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 needy streamer overload 」 ꜝꜝ

“‘Cause I don’t need a fucking mod anyway. I’ll deal with whatever comment is thrown my way because I’m not a pussy that needs to be kept in the dark.” If his solution is to fire you then date you, he may be as foolish as you feared. “You think that shit is easy?” You hiss, pushing him off you and onto his seat. “You know what people say about you, Beomgyu?” His body is trapped in between your arms, gulping down as you get close to his face. “They think you’re a fame whore who’s desperate for a click, and you should just slut yourself out for cash.”

── synopsis 。the boy from across the hall hired you to assist in his streaming and admits his feelings for you on his livestream

pairing 。streamer!beomgyu × moderator!reader

.ᐟ genre 。a bit of angst but it's sooo little and maybe i got sad thinking about the mental health of the streamer and the fan base

.ᐟ tags 。sub!idol (somewhat forced submission), switch!idol at the end, boss-worker relationship, co-workers, love confession, beomgyu is an attention seeker here (said lovingly), miscommunications and non-speaking terms, praise & degredation, name-calling, unprotected sex, creampie, a looot of dialogue, riding and missionary, an adequate amount of descriptive kissing

.ᐟ status & word count 。oneshot | 2.93k | masterlist

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。as always i did not proofread. reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns

The broadcast has barely started, yet thousands flood into the stream as Beomgyu fixes his headset. He stares at the chat box while hundreds of people send him praises and greetings, mouth curving upwards. You, on the other hand, are not having as great a time, mouse working double-time to ban and restrict hurtful profanities. 

“Hi Bamtoris! Today’s a great day, because we finally reached our sub goal!” He yells and shakes the camera, jostling onto his seat as his energy stabilizes. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for all my viewers! Just you watching is enough to keep me going. As promised, we will be starting our Q&A stream!” He cheers, swiveling around with his head against his hand. “Up until now I haven’t really answered any questions about myself; I know you guys are probably curious about a lot of things. It’s only right that we get to know each other better~” You scoff at his poor attempt at fan service, watching him do every type of cute pose at the camera. It’s not surprising when his poor fans pick up everything that he puts out, losing their minds as you barely keep up with the comments that move at lightspeed. You’re sure he loves his fans; though it’s a bit annoying when you have to be on the receiving end of cross checking every line they have to say before they get to him. Beomgyu, being who he is, tries to spot any and every comment before you try to take it down. 

The 30 minute mark rolls by smoothly, and right as you think about relaxing, you’re immediately jinxed as Beomgyu giggles, covering his mouth with his palm. “So you’re interested in my love life?” It catches you off guard, as you scramble to look for the user he’s pertaining to. Yet the damage is already done, unable to scroll back with the unceasing questions for follow up. “No, I’m not dating anyone right now.” You suppose it’s harmless in itself, riding on the hopes that you know what he’s doing. He’s allowed to see or date whoever he chooses, after all.

[right now?] 

[yo??????]

[this is my time to shine fr]

[sorry guys, it’s me.]

“Actually… I’ve had a crush on someone for a while now.” He starts, pout replacing the grin on his face as he looks down, toying with his fingers.

[wait we’re seriously doing this rn?]

[is this a bit?]

[chat…what is going on]

“I don’t even think she likes me back, to be honest. She’s really indifferent to me.”

[she broke ur heart?? My baby:((]

[im going to kill her] (deleted)

[how could she ?? ur so sweet!]

“No, no.” Beomgyu shakes his head, “It’s really professional of her to be honest. She knows how to separate work from personal business. She keeps me safe, and is always there for me, like you guys are!”

[does she know you like her lolll]

[confession stream?!]

[ain’t no way…]

[whooooooooooooooooo?!]

He grins, building suspense by drumming the table. “She’s been a great help to all of my streams. My savior, my guardian angel, my one and only mod!” 

You cough violently, reaching the far end of the table for your water bottle. What the fuck is he on? You fail to catch the rest of his confession, his words numbing your ears as you're frozen in place.

[LMFAO]

[BRUHHHHHH]

[don’t date her plz, i would actually shoot myself.] (deleted)

[fr is this a prank]

“Calling her “Mod” is a bit dehumanizing, you think?” He ponders, “I don’t think I should call her by her real name on stream, so what do we suggest, chat?”

[mod-nim? idk]

[angel! like you said earlier<3]

[bitch]

[you said we would get married. Fuck you stupid cheater choi beomgyu]  (deleted)

[anything you like!]

[u should ask her..]

“I like Angel!” He replies, clapping his hands. “I think it suits her—my Angel.” You’re barely functioning, on the edge of your seat as you try to predict what he says next. “That’s all the time I have today, bamtoris. What do you suggest we do for our next sub goal?”

[baking stream!]

[those 24 hour streams hehe]

[strip game lol] (deleted)

[house tour]

“Okay, I’ll host a poll for the most popular replies later! Stay tuned my babies~ See you–and thank you again for two thousand subs!” With that, he waves at the webcam, throwing kisses onto the camera as he clicks end livestream. You waste no time, exiting your apartment and knocking on his studio across from yours frantically.

The front door opens with a wide grin plastered on the other’s face. You sneer, shoving past him. “What the fuck was that?” He drops onto the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. “I take it you did not enjoy today’s work?” Your chest heaves rapidly, feet planted near the doorway as you try to string together a coherent (and professional) sentence. “Angel, I’m allowed to have my own life outside of work. That includes my love life, which does not concern you or my viewers.” He practices the nickname, turning his head to face you. “Does not concern me? You have a fucking crush on me! Your fans would go ballistic if you actually dated someone.” He scoffs, “Are you saying people only watch me not because I’m entertaining but because of my face?” You shake your head, leveling with him on the sofa. “Beomgyu, I would never say that.” The other’s eyebrow is raised, expecting a catch. You so desperately wish to shelter him on this topic, even if it’s a half-truth. “I’m saying your viewership is over 60% female. It wouldn’t hurt for you to–” The laugh that exits him is hollow and unamused. “You want my fans to delude themselves into thinking they could get with me?” You place your hands on top of his in an attempt to de-escalate his temperament. “No! But as long as you’re not taken—” They’re swatted away, and he recoils. “It’s implied!” You gulp. “Fine. Yes, it helps them hold on to the sliver of hope they have.”

“Then I’d be profiting off of their parasocial perception of me.” A hint of guilt makes its way to his expression, one that you mirror. You hadn’t hoped to be part of such a cycle that takes advantage of the emotions of an individual. “You could have worded it more nicely. They’re your fans.” The shame on his face stiffens up into annoyance. “You were the one who put the ideas in my head!” You turn away from him. “It’s what happens to all streamers, Beoms. You build rapport, a following and that’s how they come back.”

His face is buried in his palms, clicking his tongue as he ruffles his hands through his hair. “Get out.” Your face falls, “What?” He pushes past you, opening the door. “Get out. You’re not my boss, you work under me.” He hisses, nostrils flaring as opposed to the stiff composure he tries to put up. “You check my schedule, you clean my inbox, you edit my vods. You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do.” Through clenched fists, you take in a deep breath, trying your best to keep your own calm. Though perhaps your own anger and panic is laced with a bit of hurt. Beomgyu has never gotten pissed off at you, no matter the circumstance. “Fine. If that’s how you feel our workplace terms should be, then that’s the protocol I will follow” You reply. A lump gets caught up in your throat and nearly chokes you as you turn to him. “You’re right, you’re the boss.” You murmur, tight-lipped. The door slams behind you louder than you intended, but you shake it off and trudge back to your apartment.

A few streams have passed since your verbal altercation with Beomgyu, minimal contact held on both your ends. His last text was a screenshot of the poll results he promised his viewers and you gulp down at the landslide of votes asking him to do a strip game. Would this take a toll on his mental well being? The silent confirmation that he’s being looked at for his physical appearance and not for his content? Your fingers hovered over the keyboard overlay, drafting messages to ask if he’s fine, to tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

But you’re neither his manager nor his PR team, and now you’re not even sure if you have the right to talk to him as a friend. You revisit the chat, texting a short “stream starts in 10” and he replies with a thumbs up emoji. 

You don’t know what game he’s playing, but you’re sure as hell not participating. Cross-armed, you slump back in your seat as he plays a first person shooter, with each death prompting him to take a piece of accessory or clothing off. He’s layered in a dramatic amount of jackets and coats, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at how comical he looks. But you pull yourself back to Earth, your screen indicating his next death. He clicks his tongue, taking off one of his coats. 

Beomgyu’s right. He’s smart, and he would never do anything to jeopardize what he has worked so hard to achieve. You watch him argue with the comments about cheating and how socks don’t count because nobody couldn’t see it anyway, simultaneously deleting serious comments about buying said garment. You reassure yourself that he’ll do what is in his best interest for him, even if you subconsciously note the change in his playstyle, a little more risky and miscalculated than it usually is.

However you hold out, arms glued to your sides and trying your best to bury yourself in your chair as he takes off his shirt. He’s in a top, thank goodness, and it seems to do wonders for his image as his viewers go crazy for his physique. You yourself have to admit that for someone who complains about putting in the effort to work out, his figure fairs prettily. You clutch the table in annoyance when he dies a pointless death right after respawning, opting him to be stripped bare for his chest area. How many deaths has he had in two games? Even the comments are questioning his skills, something that was previously glossed over as people assume it was from getting used to the mechanics.

“I really suck at this character.” Beomgyu pouts, shimmying what you assume are his shorts off camera. He looks over the chat while waiting to be revived, body facing away from his main screen. “Yeah, I’m only in my underwear now. Such a shame, on my last game too.” He snickers, resting his head on his palm. 

What the fuck was he doing? He’s not seriously thinking about getting naked live, is he? “You want to see? My chat is a bunch of perverts.” He says playfully, turning back to the game. “Oh shit. I lost.” The comments cheer as he closes the game, lightly swiveling in his chair. The camera is taken off the tripod and into the boy’s shaky hands. “Oh well, A promise is a promise!” He beams, and you lunge out of your seat, running over to his studio. All the doors are unlocked, and you’re not sure if it’s a blessing or a red flag, but you bust into the studio and pull the plug on all of his devices. “What is wrong with you?!” You bark, throwing the heavy coats on top of him. Your seething contrasts the smirk on his face as he pulls his shorts up. “I knew it, you care about me.” Your mouth falls agape, blinking and laughing like you’ve gone insane. “Are you genuinely stupid? You’re my boss. You would’ve ruined your life, Beomgyu.” He shrugs, slumping against his seat. “I never would’ve shown my dick, obviously.”

“You could’ve had like–whatever the nip slip equivalent is for this.” You shriek. “Calm down,” He says, acting as if you were the unreasonable one. “I had it under control, alright? If anything, you caused the commotion.” The air hangs in an uncomfortable silence, until you start laughing again. “Me?” He doesn’t find it funny. “Yes, you. People will think I have a girlfriend, and you were so against that idea before, right?” You’d like to punch that cocky grin off his lips, gaze narrowing at him. “Did you do this on purpose?” He shrugs again, pursing his lips. “Wanted to see if you would stop me.”

You shake your head, pivoting yourself out of the room. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He grabs at your wrist, eyes solemn and serious. “I care about you—can’t I want your care for me, even if it’s over something as stupid as this?” You do nothing but gape back at him, and he pulls you in closer, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Face it, you like me, even if it’s not like that.” You roll your eyes. “You’re such an egoist, Beomgyu.” He pays no mind to your insults, “What I want to know is why you only delete comments that talk shit about me, and you ignore the ones dog-piling on you.” Your brows pinch in confusion. “”Cause it’s my job to protect you, fuckface. My comments don’t matter.” He’s quick to dismiss you. “That’s not true, and it sucks when I see you put yourself down like you don’t matter. Even if you say you don’t like me, I like you. That shit affects me too.” You scoff, violently removing his grip on you. “That’s such bullshit. Those comments were for one live and don’t mean anything to me.” His face contorts into a mix of amusement and disbelief. “They don’t? Not the ones that called you a bitch and a user?” Your gaze is stuck on the floor, refusing to give him any satisfaction over the topic. “What about the ones who called you all those slurs and a nympho, they don’t even know you.” You clear your throat. “Well, it shouldn’t matter to you, because it’s none of your business.” 

His gaze softens, “You are my business.” “No—you’re my business, and I work for you. That’s all.” Your expression is sharp and blank, staring right into him. “Is that what’s keeping you from being with me?” He exclaims, gears turning in his head. “‘Cause I don’t need a fucking mod anyway. I’ll deal with whatever comment is thrown my way because I’m not a pussy that needs to be kept in the dark.” If his solution is to fire you then date you, he may be as foolish as you feared. “You think that shit is easy?” You hiss, pushing him off you and onto his seat. “You know what people say about you, Beomgyu?” His body is trapped in between your arms, gulping down as you get close to his face. “They think you’re a fame whore who’s desperate for a click, and you should just slut yourself out for cash.” You don’t miss the way his alarmed stare flickers to your lips. “I defend you from shit like that every time you open your camera, and you think it's as easy as ignoring a few trolls? Even your own fans joke about it.” 

“Though looking at you now, you’re just as dirty and trampy as they make you out to be.” You wedge your knee in between his crotch, and he falters at the contact. “If you’re a pervert who gets off shit like this? Maybe you’ll be just fine after all. Fuck, maybe you can even make a living out of it.” He slumps over your leg, resting his cheek on your thigh with heavy breaths. “Please—” He chokes out, and you tilt your head curiously. “Please what?”

“Please make it better.”

You snatch the waistband of his underwear and tug it down to his thighs, eyes screwed shut as his dick hits his stomach. Beomgyu groans at the cool air that hits his skin, replaced with the warm slick from  your cunt. He looks up at you panting over him, brows furrowed as you try to sink further on him. Without warning, he bucks his hips up into you, making you fall down onto his lap. Tugging his hair back, you glare at him. “Don’t. Move.” You hiss. The other whines in response, gripping on the arm rests and burying his face between your neck. You huff, digging your fingers into his shoulders as you sink deeper. “I can’t–you have to move, please move or else—” “Or else what?” You cut him off, “I’m the one doing you a fucking favor here. So you’ll take what I give you or I'll take it all away.”

He’s fully situated in you, but you still aren’t moving—and it’s driving the brunette insane. He starts rolling his hips slowly, and he was pretty sure you didn’t notice until a small whimper leaves you. His gaze locks in with your own—eyes watering and lips quivering as you try to remain calm. 

With one swift motion, Beomgyu hoists you up to his hips and drags the both of you onto the bed. He lets you down gently onto the mattress, planting a kiss on your forehead as he drives himself deeper into you. 

The both of you don’t say anything for a while–-the room filled with shaky breathing and whimpering, along with the squelching from where your bodies connect. His hips suddenly stutter and snap into you, causing you to moan loudly. His hands move from your thighs to take hold of your face, kissing you like his life depended on it. You yelp when he bites down, prying himself into your mouth. He starts thrusting faster, raking the sides of your torso with his tongue still lodged in your throat. Out of the blue, he pulls himself off you, watching the way your pussy sucks his cock in and out. “Angel, you’re so pretty…So pretty when you go dumb on my dick, that smart mouth of yours can’t keep up with me.” He sighs, pressing his thumb on your clit. Your legs try their best to close but he spreads them further apart, bending down so that his chest is sitting on yours. “So pretty, thinking about nothing but me. I wish you’d always think about me.” He mumbles mindlessly, “I love you.”Your cunt clenches at his words, and you’re sure he feels it by the way he arches his back into you. 

He picks up his pace again, whining and babbling incoherent phrases. He tells you he loves you over and over again, before cutting himself off. “I-I’m close, can I cum inside?” You nod feverishly and he smirks, kissing the tip of your nose. “So cute, eager for me to fill you up? I’m at your disposal, angel. I’ll give you anything and everything you want.” He rushes, kissing the sides of your face until you come around him, inducing his own orgasm as he rides both of your highs out, white strings overflowing to the base of his dick and the inners of your thighs.

“So...” He starts, drumming his fingers against your thigh. You turn to him, lips in a pursed line. “So… You’re actually in love with me.” 

Beomgyu makes a deadpan expression, dropping his shoulders. “I thought that was clear already from like, the million times I told you.” Trying to face away, you shuffle against the bed, but he holds your waist and pulls you close to him. Still, you refuse to meet his gaze. “Well, words are just—words.” Your phrases make him petulant, circling over the dip of your skin with his thumb. “Well, I do mean it.”

“I know I just— I don’t think—you’re a public figure, Beomgyu.” The sulk on his face deepens,  a successful attempt to make you pity him. “I’m still just me. Completely separate from whatever facade I choose to show the rest of the world.” He says, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be yours, as Beomgyu, not some mega-talented and skilled streamer.” You scoff at his never ending confidence, shoving him away from you. His face beams when he lightens the mood. “So?” You raise an eyebrow, “So?”

“Do you want to try,” He gestures between the two of you, “this?” He can visualize the gears turning in your head, and he has to admit to himself that he’s scared of your answer. You release your bottom lip from your teeth. “One date.” He flips over to rest on top of you, resting his face on your chest. “One date and a hotel.” 

You scoff. “One date until dinner.” Pouting, he mumbles, “I thought that was implied.” You giggle, combing your fingers through his hair. “One date with a dinner, and if it goes well we’ll see where that gets us.”

“Deal.”

thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs, and tags for support towards the algorithm appreciated♡

sorry this took so long i totally forgot about it until i got a dm asking me about it xd

─── 〔 𝒎.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 〕

[helen-with-an-a]

staying on the idea that amor is English, how did they cope in the lead up to/ during/ after the World Cup final? love your hc’s xxx

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Ok so let’s take it back to May/June 2022 shall we?

Amor is absolutely convinced that her performance in the UWCL final against Lyon will mean that she’s out of the Euro squad - 1000% convinced and there’s nothing you can do to prove it otherwise. She didn’t even play badly, she’s just adamant that she caused the team to lose (she didn’t, she was one of the best players on the pitch - Ale is totally convinced Amor should have got MVP but hey ho).

Amor is in such a state of shock when Sarina phones her that she doesn’t even speak (Ale was standing next to her and after 20 seconds of awkward pausing, Ale had to take over the phone call and apologise to Sarina but yes, Amor will be there).

Amor uses her shaken confidence to push herself even further and work even harder. She gets named VC in the Euros (and is secretly very proud of herself but she plays it off like it’s nothing - Ale on the other hand is shouting it from the rooftops).

Amor is heartbroken when Ale does her ACL and uses the pain to work even harder (although Amor does feel bad that she scored the 2nd goal against Spain - it was a “fuck-it-and-see” type goal and it went passed Paños and Amor was like WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I JUST DONE?

Alexia couldn’t really give a shit that her team lost (she could but that’s different) cos that was Amor’s first international goal for England and she was just so proud and if it had to be against anyone she was glad it was against Spain

Ale made the trip back over the England for the final - she shouldn’t have really done it, but she needed to be there when Amor won. It just simply wasn’t an option not to be. She only stayed for the day before, the day off, and the day after and Amor flew back a week or so after that (and was met with a very different, borderline depressed Ale)

Coming into the WC was different, Amor had just (technically) won her 1st UWCL title. She was on a high of Ale coming back. Life was pretty good for Amor in the lead up to the WC.

And then she was announced as Captain for the WC. Amor was so shocked it was unreal. She had been captain before after Leah did her acl/if Leah was subbed out etc. But it’s different being named Captain. She definitely cried (and Ale might have done too). There was definitely congratulatory sex !!!

When England and Spain made it through the group stages and it was clear that they were to be drawn on different sides of the tournament, Ale and Amor had a phone call (that may or may not have turned into some cheeky phone sex) about how they wouldn’t have held anything against each other if they were knocked out (just like the the Euros)

Amor tried to watch Ale’s matches whenever possible, obvs training and stuff sometimes got in the way a little, but Amor was always checking the score.

Ale was insufferable if she wasn’t able to watch Amor’s games. She was so whiney and pouty that even V*lda decided to cut training short over it.

Amor was just so happy when Spain got through to the final, she wasn’t even thinking about what would happen if England won against Australia. And then they did. Amor had captained the country to the first WC final since 1966!

It wasn’t until she got back to the room that evening that it fully dawned on her who she would be facing.

Amor knew logically that Ale wouldn’t really be playing - she definitely wasn’t in the starting xi and probably would only be made a sub right at the end. But Amor knew she would be playing pretty much the whole match (barring any injuries). There was another phone call where they chatted through it and reassured each other about everything.

The final did not go too well for Amor - she gave away the handball that lead to the penalty Jenni misses. She’s convinced that she could have covered the gap Lucy left for Carmona to score, she’s sure that if she had ran that littler bit faster, she would’ve been able to fill the space and Carmona might not have scored.

Amor didn’t cry when the final whistle went. She didn’t do anything really, she was just numb. But Amor was the best captain, she went round to everyone and helped them as best she could in whatever way they needed her. It wasn’t until she saw Ale that she actually cried.

Ale didn’t really care about doing anything other than holding Amor. But Amor was insistent that Ale celebrate their win. But Ale just couldn’t enjoy it with Amor.

Ale didn’t go to the “that night” celebrations for long. She snuck away after a few hours and made it back to Amor’s hotel and just held her as Amor finally let herself cry. But then Amor felt so guilty for crying when Ale won and it was a bit of a headache for Amor.

Amor went to the celebration dinner with Ale the next day (and spent the afternoon speaking Spanish and working Ale up and having some great sex in the evening)

And then Ale decided to go to Mexico with the Barça girlies. Amor thinks it’s because Ale is embarrassed to be with her when Ale is on such a high and Amor is on such a low. Ale just wants more training practice and doesn’t really consider how it might look to Amor - they chatted about it before the tournament and decided together that if Ale played reduced/minimal minutes then she would go to Mexico.

Amor enters basically a depressive episode. She doesn’t do much and mainly feels guilty about the loss. Lucy and Keira and the other girls that haven’t gone to Mexico try their best but they know Amor needs Ale.

When the squad comes back from preseason, Ale is greeted by a very pissed Keira and Lucy - Ale is definitely in their bad books for leaving Amor like this, except Ale doesn’t know. Amor seems fine on the phone - a little quieter perhaps but that’s about it. Lucy and Kiera didn’t really say much in their texts to her so she’s a bit in the dark.

Ale feels so so so guilty for leaving and then definitely have a good ole cry together over everything and there’s lots of loving reassurances

Ultimately the 14 ish months from May 2022 to August 2023 was a really tough period for both of them but it just proved how much they loved each other and how much stronger they became because of it

[7ouls]

daisuke x fem reader where they’re both super awkward and swansea is tired of them being oblivious to the way they feel for eachother that he makes both of his interns work on a project together

omg i totally loved writing this even tho i hcent written in a while so it might look weird? im really sorry its been a long time… (and its pretty short sorry abt that) also swansea is probably a bit ooc (i think u say it like that? idk) cause i have really bad memory so sorry abt that too…

this is set before the crash

No matter how many times the two interns tried to communicate it would always end up being awkward since everyone but them knew about their obvious crush on each other.

Nobody cares enough to help them realise that, except their boss Swansea.

That shortly explains how the three of them are now repeating the bases of engineering.

“So is that clear?” The older man looked at the young adults as they nodded.

“Great, i don’t have to repeat myself for once. Now to see how much you’ve understood try to fix this.”

He said taking an old radio that sat behind him and handed them the needed tools. He then proceeded to leave but not before giving a smirk to his interns that blushed as a reaction.

Daisuke was the first to speak up. “I didn’t actually understand all of it.”

Y/n giggled at the boy and he soon joined too. “Don’t worry… I barely managed to take some notes. Swansea isn’t really the best teacher…”

“But we don’t really have much of a choice”

“Right, so here. You can read some of my notes and umm… i guess start working.” She said handing him her notebook. He started quietly reading all of it as the girl got slowly closer and closer to read with him.

After a while Daisuke stopped and thanked her, then realised how close she’s gotten to him. Y/n panicking apologised as she didn’t notice the close distance between them.

He quickly straightened himself. “No need to apologise! We’re supposed to work together so that eventually would’ve happened, not that i mind anyways…” He muttered the last part.

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t question it. “We should get the work started now.” She said as he nodded happily.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It has been around two hours when the two finally ended their work and were now chatting.

“Sooo… would you be free after dinner tonight?” Daisuke asked nervously, Y/n blushed at the question then smiled. “I mean… there’s not much else to do so yes. Why do you ask?”

The boy grinned and answered. “Well, i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now. Would you like to play on my gameboy with me? We can take turns! And then we can eat all the sweets that i have and stay up all night!” He exclaimed out of breath.

Y/n was surprised to hear the boy so excited and soon replied. “Sure, we can do that. We’ll just have to make sure to be quiet or else we’ll wake the captain up.” Daisuke happily nodded as he watched the girl get up and wave at him.

When she left he let put a puff of air he didn’t know he was holding. “Holy moly. She’s like super cool!”

i took the gameboy idea from a daisuke fanfic on here but i dont remember the tag. sorry this is kinda short as i said i have to get used to weiting it’s been like 2 years since i last did it. maybe i’ll write about that sleepover soemtime!! (i swear this looked longer whem i wrote it on my diary)

[hopepetal]

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

@applestruda

“Impulse!”

“Scar!”

Cub scrambled forward, falling to his knees next to Scar's limp form. He wrapped his arms around Scar and pulled the other close. He carefully brushed a hand over Scar's face. “Scar? Scar, man, can you hear me? Scar?” His movements became more frantic with each passing moment, and he gently shook his friend. “Scar, c'mon. C'mon. Wake up.”

Pearl, still in her Watcher form, knelt by Impulse. Her hands ghosted over his body, finding his neck (he had a pulse, good), his forehead (no fever, though she wasn't sure what she was expecting), before she finally searched for magic. 

There was so much. 

It surrounded his body and wrapped around like chains. It stretched up toward his neck and wrapped around him like a collar, with another strand of magic connecting him to Grian. A quick glance told her Scar had similar magical bonds. If she looked more closely, she could see several more magic strands connecting to Grian, stretching out into the distance before fading away. 

Oh, void. 

Stay calm. Don't panic. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In, out, in, out inoutinoutinoutin–

“Pearl? Pearl? Oh goodness, oh, I don't– Cub–!”

Warm hands took her own, Cub shifting out of his vex form as he knelt in front of her. “Hey, Pearl. Can you look at me?” Void black eyes met his. Cub smiled softly, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay, good. Can we match our breathing? In… and out. In… and out. You're doing so well, Pearl. You're doing so well.”

Pearl slowly got her breathing under control. She felt her watcher form fall away, tears making tracks down her cheeks as she gazed at Cub. He was crying, too, though he made an effort to smile. “...I'm so sorry,” she sniffled, “I couldn't– I tried, I couldn't protect them…”

Cub nodded. His hands trembled slightly as he glanced over at Scar. “They're alive,” he whispered, as though speaking too loud would cause their sleeping friends to shatter. “They're alive.” It was a desperate mantra, a chant, a reminder to keep calm, don't break down, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. 

Pearl swallowed thickly, blinking away tears that clumped her eyelashes together. “I know. I– I saw magic. It was like chains and they all connected to Grian. I…” 

Cub’s eyes widened. Pearl paused, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know what's happening?” she asked. 

Cub pressed his mouth into a thin line, nodding. “I think so. One moment…” He shifted into his vex form. His eyes glowed softly as he scanned Impulse and Scar's bodies. “...oh, no. Ohhhh, no.” He pushed his glasses up, sighing heavily. “I was right. They're in a shared dreamscape.”

Mumbo paled. “A what?” he asked, wringing his hands together. “Are they okay?”

Cub gave a helpless shrug. “I don't know, man. I don't know. But shared dreamscapes– basically, Grian's magic pulled them into his own dreams. Judging by the violent nature and everything that's been happening, I doubt it was his doing.”

Pearl nodded, trying to think. “Could I override Grian's magic with my own, then?” she suggested, wings fluttering softly behind her. “Do you think that would work?”

Cub shook his head. “Dreamscapes are tied to the soul, something we don’t really want to damage. It’s probably best not to attempt that.”

“Then what do we do?” Mumbo asked. “Just wait for them to wake up? It can't be that simple. Can it?” 

Cub shook his head. “Unfortunately, unless we find another way to wake them up, they'll remain in the dreamscape until…” He trailed off. The implication was clear. 

“We can't let that happen,” Pearl decided, the others nodding. “Cub, do you know anything else about the dreamscapes? Anything at all?”

Cub hummed thoughtfully, shifting back into his mortal form. “Long ago, there was a civilization that boasted superior knowledge of the dreamscapes and souls. It's where I've gotten all my information from– but given how remote and run down their temples are, not many people have tried to venture in.” 

Mumbo tilted his head. “I think I’ve heard of those before. Aren’t they… well, cursed?”

Cub sighed. “There are quite a few rumors of a curse surrounding these places. I’ve never been to one myself, but I have reason to believe these rumors are due to the incredible amount of ambient magic there. Stay in the area for too long and you’ll probably start hallucinating.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “The connection to the void in these places is strong. We don’t know enough about this civilization to be certain, but I have a few theories that the civilization worshiped the void.”

Mumbo frowned. “So this is the best shot we have for finding something to help our friends wake up?”

Cub nodded. “Like I said earlier, the amount of information we’ve retrieved from these places is minimal. There’s a good chance that you’ll be able to find something in one of these temples– anything would help. From there, we can try our best to work out a solution, but if we’re lucky we might just find one.”

“So we find one of these temples and look for answers, then. Do we know where they are?” Pearl asked. 

Cub chewed on his lower lip, thinking for a moment. “If I had a map of the realm, I could probably give you a rough estimate of where one is. They were pretty secretive about where their temples were, but I got my hands on some books that helped me piece together where the main ones were. I believe the closest one would be about a week's journey from here.” 

“That’s wonderful and all, but, uh, we should probably–” Mumbo gestured at their fallen friends– “probably get them somewhere more… comfortable? Before we continue, I mean. It can't be too nice sleeping on the ground. Or healthy. I mean… yeah,” he finished awkwardly. 

Pearl and Cub stood, the former nodding along to Mumbo's words. “Good idea. Should we move them all into Grian's tent, do you think? It has the most space.” She turned to Cub, wordlessly asking for his opinion. 

Cub nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. We'll move some bedding in there first, and from what I've seen there will still be enough room for us to sorta move around, y'know?” 

Mumbo and Pearl nodded in sync, and the three began to move. It was a quiet task as they worked through the numbness that had settled within them as the panic slowly left. Every now and again, Pearl would sniffle softly, Cub would choke back tears, and Mumbo would mumble something under his breath. They felt hollow. Just this morning, things had been fine– as fine as they could've been, at least– and now they were down three knights, and void knows who else was affected by Grian's magic. 

Once they finished setting up the bedding, it was time to move Impulse and Scar. “I got him,” was all Cub said before he went vex and hoisted Scar up in a bridal carry. 

Mumbo glanced up at Pearl from where he stood next to Impulse. “I, uh– I don't. Got him, that is. If you couldn't tell.”

Pearl gave him a weary smile. “You got his legs, then?” She knelt by Impulse, sliding her arms under his back and shoulders. It was nice to see how much he had improved since the incident several months ago– when they'd first rescued him and brought him back, he'd been starved and fatigued, and had lost quite a bit of weight. He'd slowly regained his strength as he healed, and trained himself back up to where he'd been before. Pearl was proud of him for this. Even if it meant he was a little more difficult to pick up and maneuver. 

“Alright.” Mumbo got himself situated. “We lift on three. One, two, three!” With a soft grunt, he carefully helped Pearl lift up Impulse. Slowly, they brought him into Grian's tent and lowered him down onto the bedding they'd placed.

Cub looked up from where he had knelt by Scar, brushing the other's hair out of his face with a gentle hand. “All good?” he asked, humming softly when he received confirmation. “Okay. Do you have a map of the realm?” 

Pearl thought for a moment. “Mm, I think I should have one in my tent. I'll be right back.” She ducked out of Grian's tent, jogging over to her own and quickly digging through her storage. She easily found what she was looking for– pros of an organized storage system– and hurried back to Grian's tent with the map in hand. “Here.” She handed it to Cub, who unfurled it on the ground. 

“Oh! And!” Mumbo handed him a pen. “So you can mark it down,” he explained. 

Cub tapped the pen twice against a point on the map. “This is where we are right now, you see?” He traced the pen over the map. “And this is where I live. So you're going to start your journey as if you're heading to my place, and then…” He carefully drew the pen across the paper. “You'll be traveling through a forest, then a plains area, before running into a village. I recommend leaving your horses there– you'll be heading almost immediately into a thick jungle. I imagine it'll be about a day's travel before you reach the temple, but it could be more if you get caught up in something.”

Pearl exchanged glances with Mumbo. She reached up to nervously fiddle with the red crystal that hung on a string around her neck– it had become a bit of a nervous fidget for her over the past few months. “And this is the only lead we have. To fixing this whole thing,” she confirmed, frowning slightly at Cub's nod. “I hate to put all our diamonds in one chest, but if it's all we have, then we have to try.”

Mumbo nodded as well. “Yeah. I don't– we can't just sit around and do nothing. That would be absolutely bonkers.”

Cub nodded. “I feel like it could go unsaid, but I'll be staying here to watch over these three. If anything happens, I'll do what I can to help. And of course, I'll be protecting them and keeping them as physically healthy as I can.”

Pearl let out a shaky sigh. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. Cub, mate, I don't know what we'd do without you.”

“Scar's my friend too, Pearl,” Cub gently reminded her. “I know him better than anyone else. I have to look out for him.”

“Of course,” Pearl quickly responded, “I just– still. Thank you.”

Mumbo nodded. “Yeah, mate. You've really done so much, without you we wouldn't have our only lead.”

Cub frowned, anxiety shining in his eyes. “It may not lead you to anything of value,” he admitted, “but it's the only thing I know of that could possibly be of help. Other than traveling into the dreamscape itself, which would be a last resort if anything. Outside interference tends to change the dreamscape, and that could end up damaging not only their souls, but yours as well.”

Pearl hummed softly. “It makes me feel a little better, knowing we have a last resort at all. Two options are better than one.”

“Right on,” Mumbo agreed. “Though, it's still quite nerve-wracking, isn't it?”

Pearl let out a breathy laugh. “Just a bit.”

Cub smiled gently. “It's going to be alright, you two. Now…” He turned back to the map. “Where was I… the jungle. I've traveled this far, went right up to the village. The only reason I'm really giving any credit to this option at all is because I sensed a strong source of magic in the jungle. I wasn't able to make it there, but I know…” He tapped the pen against the map before circling an area. “The temple should be around here. Pearl, you'll be able to see the magic as a Watcher, I'd imagine, so I'm not too worried about you two getting lost. It'll still be quite the long journey, and you may run into danger along the way.” Mercenaries went unsaid. 

“I won't let anyone hurt you,” Pearl promised Mumbo. “We'll be alright. Even if we're down three knights, we're still strong. We're still– we're still knights.”

Cub handed the map to Pearl, giving her a weary smile. “I recommend you start packing for the journey. It's going to be a long one, and you'll need to be well prepared.”

Pearl and Mumbo nodded, both standing up. Pearl carefully pocketed the map as Mumbo ducked out of the tent. She glanced back at their sleeping friends before exiting the tent. 

It was quiet in camp, quieter than it had been in quite some time. As the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off, the weight of their situation truly began to settle on the three still awake. 

Pearl's hands shook as she carefully packed medical supplies. What if they never wake up? 

Cub hesitated as he carefully wrote notes about the sleeping knights' health. What if he made a mistake that he couldn't fix?

Mumbo tried to stay calm as he worked on sorting items to take for the journey. What if his lack of strength caused them to fail?

It took the two knights about an hour to finish gathering everything they'd need for the journey, and by then the sun was beginning to set. Mumbo took Pearl's hand and led her to where they always sat and watched the day give way to night. The two stood, silent and grieving, and Pearl wished she could wrap a wing around Mumbo and hold him close. She settled for giving his hand a slight squeeze, returning the teary-eyed smile he gave with one of her own. 

“It'll be okay,” she whispered. “It has to be, eventually.”

Mumbo nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I certainly hope so.”

The two slept in Pearl's tent that night, desperate for the comfort of each other's presence, clinging to the familiarity that they had come so close to losing altogether. Their sleep was dreamless, and they woke up with the sun the next day. 

“Good luck,” Cub wished them, pressing a potion of health into Pearl's hands and one of regeneration into Mumbo's. “Be safe.”

“You, too,” they responded in sync, unable to hold back smiles at that. 

Pearl quickly ducked into Grian's tent to check on her brother (his fever had gone down, at least) and say goodbye. Then it was time to leave, and the two knights mounted up. 

“I don't know if it's just me,” Mumbo pointed out as they rode out from their home, “but we seem to be a magnet for trouble.”

Pearl let out a weary chuckle. “Nah, it's not just you. Never a dull moment around here, is there?”

“You could say that again,” Mumbo muttered. 

Silence fell over the two, the only sound being the horses' hooves against the ground and the soft chirping of the early morning birds. Pearl couldn't help but be reminded of Grian, with how he would sometimes instinctively respond to the birds with little chirps and trills. 

Mumbo seemed to notice how the mood sombered. He delicately cleared his throat. “Weather's been nice, lately,” he said quite awkwardly, and Pearl started giggling. “What? I was just– I was trying to lighten the mood, is all! It's good to try and keep our spirits up!” 

Pearl shook her head, blinking away tears as she laughed. “No, no, thank you, I just wasn't expecting that. Consider the mood successfully lightened.” 

Refusing to just wait around and hope for the best, the two knights began their journey. 

“The king has collapsed!” 

Doc strode through the palace halls, following the harried footsteps of the servant. “Tell me more,” he instructed briskly. “What happened?”

“The king, his advisor, and the head of the royal guard have all collapsed after an extreme magic surge that broke past all warding sigils. The royal medic and magical specialist are on their way,” the servant explained quickly, panting slightly. 

“And who else is aware of this?” Doc pressed, rounding the corner with the servant. Up ahead was the door that led to the main meeting room, and the servant paused before entering. 

“Only those I listed, sir. As well as you and I.” Their eyes flicked nervously up to Doc's before they quickly looked away. “I'm magically sensitive, sir. I was nearby when I felt the surge.” 

Doc nodded curtly. “Listen here. You will tell no one about this,” he instructed. “If word got out that three high ranking officials– including the king himself– had collapsed after a possible terrorist attack, there would be chaos. You will be compensated as necessary.”

The servant's eyes widened as they shook their head. “Oh, no sir. I don't need compensation. Just… is his majesty… will he be alright?”

“Only one way to find out.” Doc pushed the door to the meeting room open. 

Just as the servant had told him, the three had collapsed. Martyn's nose was bleeding slightly, likely from the extreme amount of magic that had been involved in the attack. Ren had slumped over in his chair, and BigB had fallen to the floor beside Ren's chair. 

Doc strode over to Ren. He gripped the king’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. “Hey. Hey, man. Wake up.” He heard a soft, shocked inhale come from the servant, likely at the casual form of address he used with Ren. They had dropped the formalities with each other a long time ago, becoming close friends as Doc advised him and helped work on inventions together. 

“Sir, I don't think…” the servant began hesitantly, “I don't think they're going to wake up. Whatever magic that caused this is strong. I can't tell any more than that.”

Just in time, the magic specialist burst in through the door, followed closely by the royal medic. From there on out things became a blur. Ren, Martyn, and BigB were moved to the private infirmary, and Doc eventually found himself standing in front of the council. 

“As of right now, the king is incapacitated. As your acting regent, I will take his majesty's place.” Murmurs of assent and concern rose from the council, but Doc quieted them with a raised hand. “All you need to know is that the king is alive and healthy. I’m sure you’re all aware that the public must not know of this. There would be chaos, and we cannot afford for the kingdom to be in disarray at a time like this.”

The meeting concluded shortly after, and Doc left to go check in with the royal medic and magic specialist. “How are they?” he asked quietly, glancing over at his friends' sleeping forms. 

The magic specialist pursed their lips, before sighing. “I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. The magic used is more powerful than anything I've ever seen. As of right now, they are unharmed, but have effectively been put into eternal slumber.”

Doc frowned. “And is there anything we can do to help them?”

“Keep them under close watch. I'll continue to carefully study the magic affecting them, and call in those from the guild who specialize in these kinds of spells. Other than that…” The magic specialist shook their head, shrugging slightly. “All we can do is wait.”

The forest was unusually quiet as the queen of the fae stepped out from the shadows. She had been drawn to her husband by a sudden surge of foreign magic. Looking around, Lizzie was quick to find Joel. He lay on the ground, limp, surrounded by his dogs. 

Geraldine, who was pressed up against Joel's side whimpering and nudging him gently with her nose, looked up at Lizzie. She wagged her tail once, twice, before nuzzling against Joel's side with a whine. 

Lizzie quickly made her way to Geraldine, flowers blooming at her feet as she walked. “Oh, Joel…” She knelt by him and gently felt his forehead, then glanced over at Geraldine. “What happened?” she asked, and brought her hands up to rest against Geraldine's soft fur. “Tell me, my darling.”

Geraldine closed her eyes, and Lizzie saw. 

She saw Joel walking through the forest. She saw magic, surrounding him and binding him, pulling him to the ground. Her heart ached at his fear, at the expression of terror on his face right before he collapsed. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. Tears made warm tracks down her face as she pulled herself from the memory, “I couldn't protect you.”

Geraldine whimpered, placing her head in Lizzie's lap. Lizzie gently stroked her soft fur as she took deep breaths. “Good girl,” she murmured. “Thank you for staying by him.” She carefully picked her husband up, closing her eyes and bowing her head. 

In a flash of light and shower of flower petals, Lizzie and Joel, as well as his animals, disappeared. Whisked away to the fae realm, where Lizzie could keep them safe, and wait out whatever curse had taken her beloved. 

Iskall had been cleaning the counters when three of his patrons– one of his best friends included– collapsed after a rather terrifying explosion of magic. Dropping the rag they had been using, Iskall ran to where they had fallen. “Etho!” He grabbed his friend's shoulder and roughly shook him. “Etho, are you–?” They cut themselves off. Carefully, they turned Etho over and checked for a pulse. 

Okay, good. He had one. Now for the other two– Cleo and Bdubs, Etho had introduced them to him earlier. They had pulses too. That… was good. Okay. 

What now?

“I should move them somewhere more private,” Iskall muttered to themselves. “Yeah. Good idea.” 

It certainly took more than a little effort to move all three to a room– thankfully, there was an open one on the first floor, and Iskall heaved a sigh of relief when they had gotten everyone settled in a bed. “Now… what do I do?” they asked no one in particular, before sighing. “Probably call a doctor. I'm not qualified for this.” 

In the end, all Iskall could do was wait. 

Zedaph was having… a day.

He would've called it a good day on any other occasion. Skizz had found him! Somehow, the mountain guide had managed to track him down and bust into his super secret science spot, which Zed swore he'd hidden quite well. No matter. Skizz was a friend!

A very angry friend, who, given what he was ranting about, had a very good cause to be upset. 

Something had happened with Impulse– a demon had possessed him, apparently, and had come very close to dying. When Pearl (one of Impulse's new friends, Skizz had explained) sent out letters contacting the rest of Team Z.I.T.S, Zedaph had never gotten his. Most likely because he practically lived in a cave, hidden away from the world. 

(Tango had lived in a cave, too, but he had recently moved in with a friend after a creeper incident.)

“And look, man,” Skizz was saying, talking more with his hands than anything, “I'm all for living out in nature. But c'mon. We needed you!”

“I'm sorry,” Zedaph apologized, “but everything's fine now, right? Impulse is alive and safe?”

Skizz hesitated. “Yeah, he is. But I'm still mad at you, because that was a real jerk move of you. Y'know, the rest of us kept in contact! Somewhat! You just dropped off the map to do your crazy… experiments!”

“It's not crazy, it's science.”

“Oh, you–”

And then there was magic, purple and screaming and swirling around Skizz. Zedaph felt something tug at his core, but it slipped away before it took hold. Skizz wasn't as lucky, and collapsed. 

Then there was silence.

Zedaph blinked. “Oh, that's fascinating.” And slightly concerning. Actually, mostly concerning, if he thought about it.

He should get Skizz some blankets. He didn’t want one of his friends sleeping on the floor, after all!

“Alright, you two, follow me…”

Jimmy and Tango did as Scott instructed, walking down a carefully manicured path to the large structure in Scott's yard. They'd come to buy flowers for their place in the city– it would liven the place up, Jimmy had promised, so Tango had reluctantly agreed to come along. Scott grew flowers as a hobby, so they'd made the trip to his cottage. 

They stepped into the greenhouse, Scott closing the door behind them. “Come right this way. Did you have any preference on the type of flower, colour, size…?” 

Jimmy shook his head. “Probably shouldn't be too big, though. I'm not trying to grow a whole tree here.”

Scott laughed. “Shame. Trees are quite lovely this time of year.”

“With how often Sparky over here starts, well, sparking, I don't think trees would be a good idea.” Jimmy nudged Tango, who groaned. 

“I don't spark that much! And things don't catch fire, Jimmy!” he protested. 

Jimmy was about to respond when he felt a sudden surge of… was that Grian's magic? “Hold on, what–”

Pain flared in his head, and Jimmy cried out. Tango called his name, but Jimmy couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. He felt blood trickle from his nose, and then…

Magic.

He barely had time to cry out Tango's name before something tugged on his core, and Jimmy collapsed. The other two soon followed. 

Three fell asleep in a flowerbed, untouched and unseen, with only the flowers as witness.

[tikosblogg]

BESTFRIENDS pt 2..

Summary: Noah comes home from a bad day at the studio. You decide to help him take out his frustrations.

Warning: oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss. Let me know if there is anything else.

A/N: you guys asked for it and I delivered!!! I really hope you guys enjoy it!!❤️

I laid across the couch watching my show, when the front door slammed open then shut causing me to jump out of my skin. I quickly sat up seeing Noah barge in, and stomp up the stairs to his room, clearly pissed. Noah and the guys were at the studio today, recording a song. They weren’t supposed to be home for another two hours. Confused, I stood from my seat, grabbing the remote and cutting off the tv. The front door opened again, and the rest of the guys walked in.

“What’s going on? Is he okay?” They all turned to me, jolly being the first to speak. “He sounded a tiny bit hoarse today, and he’s pissed off. You know how he is. Everything has to be perfect.” I nodded my head, looking back towards the stairs. Noah is always so hard on himself for no reason. “Poor guy….” I frowned, thinking about all negative thoughts probably racing through his head right now.

I crossed my arms over my chest, walking over to them as Nick spoke up. “Yea we’ll give him some space. Let him cool off.” I nodded in agreement. Noah and I haven’t really talked much since the other night. It’s not that it’s awkward or anything. He’s just been so busy with meetings, and going to the studio. We haven’t really had time. Jolly nodded towards the front door, breaking me from my thoughts. “We’re gonna head out, maybe grab some food and hangout. Wanna come?” They all turned towards me awaiting my response.

I smiled before politely declining. “Thanks for the invite, but I gotta shower and get to sleep. I have work in the morning. You guys have fun.” I gave them each a hug as they walked out the door. Locking up and heading upstairs, I stopped midway into my room looking over at Noah’s door. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just check on him? I walked over, knocking twice. After a few seconds his door swung open.

“Jolly I told you I don’t-“ he stopped mid sentence, realizing it was me. “Oh hey, sorry.” He moved back, silently welcoming me into his room. I walked in, walking straight to his bed taking a seat. “What’s going on Noah?” He huffed plopping down into his computer chair, resting his face in his hands. “I sounded awful today. My throat is hoarse, and couldn’t find the right pitch.”

“Noah you couldn’t sound awful if you tried. You have an amazing voice. Even if it’s a little hoarse.” I gave him a small reassuring smile, as he sat up meeting my eyes. “Thanks sweetheart ….I just hate when things don’t go right. I’m so frustrated.” An idea instantly popped in my mind. Was it a good one? Maybe not. But it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.

I slowly slid off the bed onto my knees, crawling the short distance between us to right between his thighs. He froze, as his eyes widened. My hands running up each of his thighs, giving them a light squeeze. “What are you doing y/n?” He made no move to stop me, so I continued. “Well you helped me when I was frustrated…I feel it’s only right I return the favor.”

I softly rubbed my hands up down his thighs, waiting for his response. “Baby you don’t have to-“ I quickly cut him off with a smile. “I want to.” He slowly nodded his head, as I went straight for his belt. His dick was already stiff, growing more the closer I got to it. I pulled the belt open, unbuttoning his jeans and finally pulling him out.

I’ve never seen a dick in real life, but I can guarantee his is this most beautiful one I’ll ever see. He’s also huge. He gasped as I finally wrapped my fingers around it. He was so thick my fingertips barely touched. I slowly pumped him a few times looking up at him. He threw his back against the chair releasing a moan. His tip was angry red, and already leaking.

I bent down, and gave it a few kitten licks. He groaned bucking his hips up. “Fuck..” I felt my stomach erupt in butterflies. I parted my lips finally wrapping them around him, taking him in as far as I could. I instantly gagged, pulling back up. His hand flew to my cheek, lifting my face to his. “Don’t force it baby…take your time.”

I nodded my head, pumping him a few more times before taking him back into my mouth. I sucked the tip, and his hand flew to my hair tangling it into his fist. I moaned around him, as he softly tugged it. I could feel my shorts getting soaked. I decided to forego panties tonight, since I planned on showering anyways. Looks like it worked in my favor.

I slid my hand down into my shorts, applying pressure to my aching clit. I took him further into my mouth, until he hit the back of my throat. I fought hard not to gag again, and bobbed my head up and down. The sinful noises leaving Noah’s mouth, only made me wetter. I rubbed my clit faster, moaning around him.

Noah grabbed my arm, removing my hand from my shorts, and pulling me up to him. “Is sucking my cock making you wet baby?” His voice just above a whisper. I whined at his filthy words, nodding my head yes. He stuck his tongue out, running it slowly across my lips. I whimpered leaning in, finally pressing our mouths together.

We shared a heated wet kiss. He shoves his tongue in my mouth, and I softly sucked on it causing a grown to leave his throat. He took my bottom lip between his teeth, softly biting down. My breath hitched, as he released it pulling me to my feet. “C’mon.” He walked us to his bed, pulling me onto it with him. He laid back, making me kneel on the bed beside him,

I leaned down, quickly taking him back into my mouth. “Fuck baby…your mouth feels amazing.” He groaned, running his hand through my hair. I gripped the base with my hand, taking the rest of him in my mouth. He placed his other hand on my ass, gently rubbing and squeezing it. I moaned around his dick, bobbing my head faster.

He bucked his hips up, his tip meeting the back of my throat each time. He moved my shorts aside, running his fingers up and down my slit. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet…you love my cock in your mouth don’t you?” I pulled off of him, continuing to pump his dick. “Fuck Noah….yes.”

He finally slid his two middle fingers into my soaked pussy, slowly pumping them in and out. I whined, arching my ass higher in the air, his fingers hitting deeper. He grabbed my throat gently, pulling me into another searing kiss. I was panting at this point. I needed more. “Please Noah…I want you.” His fingers halted, directing my eyes to his.

“Y/n we don’t have to do this….I don’t want you to feel pressured.” I felt my heart flutter, as I pecked his lips softly. “I don’t….please Noah.” We continued staring at each until I tried again. “Noah…I need you.” His eyes were almost black, as he quickly pulled his fingers out of me, flipping us over.

He hovered over me, planting his lips on mine. He sat up straddling my thighs, quickly tugging my oversized shirt, and shorts off of me. He shoved his face into my neck, licking and sucking as many marks as could onto it. “Oh fuck Noah.” He peppered kisses down my neck, until he reached my tits. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, pinching and pulling on my other one with his fingers.

I arched my chest into his face, clawing my nails down his back under his shirt. He released my nipple with a pop, groaning at my nails digging into his skin. “Fuck baby keep doing that.” He sat up, pulling off his shirt. I spread my thighs as far as they’d go, as he laid between them. “Tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

I cupped his cheeks in my hands, pecking his nose. “I will, I promise.” He lined himself up with my entrance looking at me one more time, before slowly pushing in. I gasped loudly at the big stretch, the air leaving my lungs. Noah stopped, turning my head towards his, with a worried expression. “Talk to me baby..” it didn’t even really hurt, it was just a dull ache.

But the new feeling was almost overwhelming. “Keep going.” My strained voice was just above a whisper. He nodded his head, and continued slowly pushing in. When he was fully in, I felt so fucking full. He gave me a few seconds, before slowly thrusting his hips. In a matter of minutes, I was moaning whimpering mess.

I’ve never felt this amount of pleasure in my life. He kept his slow pace, grunting in my ear until I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Faster Noah, please. I can take it.” He captured my lips in a sweet kiss, moving his hips faster and harder. “Oh fuck yes.” I gasped, shoving my face into his neck. “Shit baby, your pussy is so fucking tight.” I felt his dick twitch inside of me, as I was so close to finishing.

“I’m….Im gonna cum.” I whimpered, as pounded into me harder. “Go ahead babygirl, cum on my cock.” That was all I needed, as my orgasm crashed over me. “Just like that, good girl.” He pounded faster, until he pulled out. He stroked his dick a couple times, before releasing all over my chest and stomach. “Fuck.” He dropped his head down, before leaning forward placing a kiss to my forehead and getting up. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked over into his bathroom, coming back out with a wet washcloth. I laid there my body spent, feeling like jello. He wiped the remaining mess, and threw the rag into his hamper. He crawled back onto the bed settling down beside me. “How was it sweetheart?” His voice sounded so small. Almost like he was afraid of my response.

I looked over at him, the biggest smile on my face. “Fucking amazing.”

QA/N: sorry to kind of leave you with a cliff hanger, but I’m almost tempted to turn this into a mini series….or at least do a part 3. Idk what do you guys think???

[reysdriver]

Piggyback | R.L.

Remus gets jealous after you spend an afternoon with James, but you sweetly assure him he has nothing to be worried about — remus x fem!reader fluff with a hint of angst

warnings: jealousy/insecurity, some foul language

words: 1k

You held on tight from behind him, arms wrapped around the broad shoulders of James Potter. He held your thighs steady as you dashed through the halls of Hogwarts. 

He laughed when you let out a squeal every time he turned a corner, fearing he would lose control and run into a wall — even though you know he would never do that. He has too much Quidditch experience and he knew his best mate, your boyfriend, Remus Lupin would kill him if he ever hurt you. 

Speak of the devil, James turned one more corner into the library hallway and you saw Remus' familiar silhouette at the end of the hall walking away. James didn't seem to notice him and was about to run another direction, but you moved your hand onto his arm to direct him one way. 

"Jamie, wait, Remus is over there! Run down the library hall." You told him. 

"Alright, let's go see your Moony." He replied, obeying your instructions and heading towards Remus. 

Once you got closer, you called out Remus' name, which caught his attention. He turned around and looked slightly shocked at the sight of you on James' back, both of you running at him. James came to a jagged halt when you reached Remus, causing you to let out a giggle. 

"Let me down please, Jamie." You asked of the boy carrying you. He once again obliged, bending down and letting you get off his back. You thanked him softly and turned to Remus. 

"Hi, Remmy." You said, pulling him down by his tie so you could kiss him. You did so, a sweet kiss on the lips, which James looked away for. 

"Hi, love." Remus greeted you back. "What were you just doing?" 

"Oh, Jamie was just giving me a piggyback ride around the school while you were busy in the library. But, now you're out, I guess, so here we are." 

"Yup, here we are." James said with a shrug. "So, I guess I'll be on my way, probably to go find my lily flower. I'll see you two later." 

And with that, he started to walk away, heading towards the library to check for Lily there first. 

"Bye, Jamie! Thanks for the ride!" You said just before he left, and he did a little salute in return, then kept walking.

You turned back to Remus, hoping to spend time with your boyfriend after he'd been in the library all day working. 

"So, you and 'Jamie'? Where did that little nickname come from?" He asked before you could say anything. 

"Oh, I just sometimes feel like I'm imposing on your friend group when I call you by your Marauders nicknames, so I'm just trying out some other ones." You told him with a smile. "What do you think of it?" 

"It's cute." He said curtly. 

You could tell at this point that something was bothering, and you knew Remus well enough to know that he wouldn't just tell you unprompted. 

"Then what's wrong?" You asked, looking up at him. 

"What? Nothing's wrong." He answered, though you knew it was a lie. "Let's just go back to the common room."

"Well, clearly something is wrong, and I don't want to go until we figure it out." 

"How could anything be wrong? I just finally finished my essays and you had a great afternoon with Jamie." 

The way he sneered at the nickname you gave his best mate is what made you realise what was upsetting him. 

"You're jealous." You stated, fighting back a grin because of your realisation. 

"What? No, why would I be jealous? No, let's just go." Remus said with a scoff. Taking her soft hand in his, Remus started to walk away with you, now completely silent. 

"You know, I know you're not jealous." You started curiously. "I know it's impossible. But, hypothetically, if you were jealous, I would say that it's okay. Even though I was just being friendly with James, it's a totally normal emotion, especially in a young relationship, and I would really be proud of you for sharing your feelings." 

You paused for a moment, then looked up at him to admit the next part. "I might even find it a little cute, if we're both being honest here." 

He looked down at you, still walking down the corridor alongside you. "You would?"

"I would." 

"Well, it's too bad that I'm not jealous." He added with a sly smirk. 

He knows what he's doing. Annoying, adorable, stubborn arsehole.  

"You know, I bet Jamie gets jealous sometimes." You told him, trying to break Remus into admitting it finally. "I'll go hang out with him for the evening, and I'll ask him." 

Obviously teasing him now, you let go of his hand and started to walk in the direction James went in a minute ago. You only made it about a step and a half before he took hold of your wrist, gently stopping you. 

"Or," Remus started, his mood clearly changed from before. "I could admit that I might have been jealous for a minute, then I could give you a piggyback ride to Gryffindor tower, and we could hang out, just us, in my dorm."

"I'd like that very much, Remmy." 

"Then, hop on, love." He bent down so you could climb onto his back, then stood up to his full height once you were settled. 

"See? You're even taller than James, so the view from up here is much better. I love it."

You could tell even that simple bit of flattery had brightened his mood even more, though he was trying not to let it show. "So, are you ready to go now?"

You leaned your head down slightly so you could give him a sweet peck on the cheek. "To your dorm, Remmy!”

[valhalla-calls]

Relativity Falls headcanons- My Version Pt.3

Making a part three because apparently, I wasn't done.

My Au isn't exactly one for one in terms who replaces who and what events happen. However, there are close to it.

Kind of off track, but Canon! Stan would cry if he saw any Relativity Falls AUs. The thought that any of the Pine twins going through at least half of what he did while he was homeless would destroy him. Doesn't matter if it's Dipper or Mabel, it would destroy him.

Back on track, I can see Mabel's scams sometimes consisted of match making and fake love potions. She got a lot of angry customers when the match wasn't good or the love potion surprisingly didn't work. It caused a few injuries along the way. A few times, she was stabbed and didn't have money to go to the doctor to get it stitched up. Good thing she knows how to sew thanks to her making sweaters.

After a particularly bad run in with some people she owed money to, Mabel had to rewrite a letter to Dipper, because blood smudges kept appearing on the letter. Eventually, after the hundredth time, she just covered those spots with glue and glitter. No, Dipper doesn't know that bit until probably much later.

Mabel does have the scar on the back of her shoulder like Stan did! How it happened was a little different, she had a stab wound she stitched up on her upper arm when Dipper sent a post card for her to come. In the middle of their "Concerned for each other" scuffle, he grabbed it by accident, Dipper let go when she screamed, which caused her to fall onto sigil.

Dipper's had his fair share of hurt here too. He had the whole bleeding eye issue that Ford did in canon. I imagine if he was possessed by the Axolotl, it would take a toll on his body too. A big entity like that, I don't think a human body could handle well. Then, there's the whole doing things to Dipper while being possessed thing. He has a few scars from those moments too.

Speaking of Axolotl, I feel like it would take Dipper a while to warm up to being friendly. Not that he wouldn't be fascinated and tricked at all. Because, we saw what happened with Bill doing the Sock Opera episode, he would. However, I think at first, he'd proceed with caution. He was only started to be mystified by the Axolotl when the Axolotl began to feed into his loneliness.

I'm cool with either Candy or Pacifica taking Fiddleford's place. It makes sense for either. If it's Pacifica, she could fund it and if's Candy, she could build it.

Mabel kept making the fake love potions to sell in the Mystery Shack. One of them fell on Stanley and it caused him to have a misunderstood panic attack when he saw Fiddleford and nothing happened. Not because he was worried he didn't like Fiddleford. No. He was told at one point, probably by his mom, that if a love potion didn't have any effect after seeing another person, it meant he was already in love with the person. After, what Stan thought were failed attempts to woo Fiddleford (Because, you know, he honestly believed the potion worked so, got commit to the bit.), Mabel cleared up the misunderstanding. Which she found hilarious.

Since Bill is in Pacifica's place, Stan, not only has a rivalry with Gideon, but he has a rivalry with Bill.

I can see Dipper and Mabel picking on the fact that Stanley is being abused by Filbrick at home. There are many routes like when it comes to this AU that people take with that issue. My favorites though are where they find out and don't let the boys go home at all and teach Stanley that Filbrick doesn't love him. Also, Ford finally understanding some things and is completely on board. They would not care who Filbrick is to them. They would risk it.

[vidavalor]

Hey there :) I love your metas and would like to know why you think they decided to show satan as an actual being, but not god? Or do you think we will see god in the final episode?

Hi there! 💕Thank you & very interesting questions. *rubs hands together* This'll be fun. I know God is big on reminding people to not avoid salads but I also have chocolate cake so we can have a bit of both, yeah? *gets plates*

To answer your questions, I've got to share some ideas about The Voice of God that I've had lately that I think could come about in The Finale. If it winds up anything like this, it might not just change how we see God in the series but also completely upend our understanding of the novel at the same time...

So, throughout Good Omens the tv series so far, we've had what appears to be three beings who are the ones in charge of Heaven and Hell: The Metatron, Satan, and, kind of out here in her own world a bit, God. The Metatron claims to be the spokesperson for God but that is in doubt in a lot of people's minds, my own included. I think he's a fraud who cannot speak to God and whose power is dependent upon the angels believing that he can. I'm pretty sure that The Finale will see the main characters challenge him on this and expose his deception, leading them to be able to overthrow him and create a better system in Heaven.

Satan and The Metatron are dependent upon one another for power so if one of them goes down, they both do. Exposing The Metatron would cause the angels to realize that God didn't judge the demons-- The Metatron did. This would mean that the angels and demons would realize that they're all just angels and that they are on the same side against both The Metatron and Satan. I'm pretty sure that's why those two villains were working together to get rid of Aziraphale and Crowley in The Final 15 and want Gabriel dead-- they don't want the angels and demons to talk to one another long enough to figure it out and start a revolution.

So, let's say that all of that is close to (or is) accurate and we get to a point in The Finale when we find out that Heaven is a sham and The Metatron can't talk to God. This then brings up a big question that the characters in Good Omens aren't really seen asking a lot but that will suddenly be as big to these angels as it is to us humans:

Does God exist?

We might think we already know the answer to this, right? Of course she does! She's the ball of light that sounds like Frances McDormand! She's narrated S1 for us and she's talked to Crowley and Aziraphale and Job! When you ask if I think we'll see God in the finale, this is the being that you're probably asking about, right? The God we listened to who narrated S1 to us was crazy about humanity, yes? You'd think she'd want to participate since, as God, she'd know that would be what living really is. Does she, as you ask, have a body? Is she a living being? We might think she really does exist because we've heard what she sounds like but I think we might not quite yet have the full picture on that, as you'll see...

We can see what they're doing with The Metatron and Satan more clearly right now, I think. These two are two sides of an evil coin. Heaven and Hell are equally terrible. Neither has any sense of individuality, boundaries, or bodily autonomy. They are full of toxic, harmful ideas and are inflicting horrific abuse on the angels and demons. How they are presented to us as beings also reflects those horrors.

The Metatron is the only supernatural character in the story who does not have a full human corporation. He is just a floating head and that is the, well, pardon the pun, but the most meta thing in this story imaginable. He presents himself as above the other angels and nearer to God by virtue of the fact that he just needs a head to get around and doesn't deal with having a human body. His presentation is saying to the other angels that they couldn't ever possibly live up to his standards of holiness because they might all be magical but they have bodies, which are, by definition, unholy. They aren't supposed to feel or need anything that requires a body and what's extra fun for them is that everything does so the angels are made to feel like they cannot win from the get-go.

Fuck it up and wind up in Hell? Now, you are evil and belong to Satan for eternity. Violence, torture and assault from which there is no escape awaits you. I'd argue that while Satan is an actual being, as you put it, because he was an angel before, that we might not have actually seen that true form yet.

In 1.01, he attacks Crowley while being basically vapor and using the voice of Freddie Mercury. (That's definitely the most bizarre-sounding sentence I've written this week lol.) In 1.06, he is coming to claim Adam and Adam is told by Crowley and Aziraphale right before that this is what's about to happen so I think that Satan appeared as Adam would think The Devil would look like. He was eleven at the time, so, a giant, angry, horned, red devil cliche beast that sounded like Benedict Cumberbatch was probably about accurate. Satan has so far appeared not necessarily as himself but as whatever being might be most torturous to the person he's showing up to or whatever being might meet his end goals-- which is how he is appearing as The Metatron With A Body in 2.06. He's coming to tempt Aziraphale to Hell and Aziraphale would only ever think the offer genuine if he thought it was coming from The Metatron so that's who Satan made himself appear to be.

Both Heaven and Hell are, as Crowley puts it in 2.06, toxic.

But when you bring The Voice of God into this, things start to really interesting.

While it's not hard to see both Satan and The Metatron as evil, God is a little more difficult. This is some of the basis of the theory that The Metatron cannot communicate with God. One of the things that makes the theory have weight is that it's very difficult to see this God that is narrating the story to us in S1 as someone who would actually be behind the atrocities that Heaven claims are her will.

I think most of us like The Voice of God. She is very sharp, very dry-witted, and she's curious about people. She clearly loves all her beings. She really doesn't seem like a vengeful God that could be behind drowning people or casting all these demons to Hell or wanting to murder a laundry list of living beings around Job. The God we heard in S1? She wouldn't believe that Job's children belonged to Job in the first place, let alone want to kill any kids, let alone to do so only to win a bet with Satan.

There's a moment in S1 that I think solidifies that The Voice of God isn't a villain and that's when Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor with baby Adam. God's narration introduces to us the baby swap plot about to go down by telling us (paraphrased) that it's helpful to understand that events in human history do not happen as a result of people being good or bad but just as a result of people being people. When she says this, Crowley is participating in the misunderstandings of the scene, alongside the humans in it, and God is counting him among the people of which she is speaking.

That's basically the moment that it becomes impossible to see The Voice of God as a villain because here she is, seeing Crowley as human. Here she is, narrating his and Aziraphale's story, and we the audience, for much of S1, really want to tell Crowley and Aziraphale that she is, right? If anything, this is the one thing we're angry with her about...

When Crowley is talking to God alone in his flat and not getting any response, we're angry at the God we also like because we know that she loves Crowley but he doesn't feel that and is suffering. We want her to tell him. We want her to be more clear with Aziraphale, too, after just appearing outside Eden. Even still, though, she's likable in her narration and seems separate from The Metatron and Satan.

There is the feeling that, if The Voice of God is God, that she believes that the universe is the dominion of her creations and that she cannot interfere because to do so would be to force them all to follow her will. She doesn't want to rob her creations of their free will. There is no plan from God but for them to all be free. This would make her a just god and go along with her narration so it allows us to be understanding about the fact that she cannot actually talk that much to her creations directly or stop any terrible things from happening-- because it's up to them to do so, not her.

That may all well be true but, as we will see, there might be some evidence that The Voice of God might have a more complicated identity than we might originally have thought.

If the main characters overthrow The Metatron and Satan in The Finale, it's going to be as a result of the characters talking and realizing that none of them-- including Gabriel and the archangels-- have ever spoken to God. As a result, they will all know that they don't know how to reach her.

They've only ever reported to The Metatron. God didn't even turn up for Gabriel's trial-- a big deal in Heaven, since he was The Supreme Archangel. All of this will lead them to the realization that The Metatron is a fraud but these characters are angels. They believe that they were made by the God they haven't ever actually interacted with entirely for the purpose of serving that God.

When they find out that The Metatron cannot contact God, they're all going to be wondering if God exists and it might be here that we'd think that Crowley and Aziraphale might share their experiences of hearing The Voice of God, yes?

Except...

...think about those known experiences for a moment...

The Voice of God has only appeared (key word: appeared) to speak to three characters: Aziraphale, Crowley and Job. In the first scene we see in which she speaks to a character, it's to Aziraphale, when he is alone outside the wall of Eden, right?

In this moment, Aziraphale has just rebelled more than he probably ever has before. He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword and helped Crowley get out of Eden and now, here he is, standing outside the walls of Eden, having escaped himself and both thrilled and terrified to start a journey of exploring the Earth. He's been having an internal crisis as to whether or not he did the right thing. He knows that he did by his own moral compass but it's all very much against how Heaven works and he's unsure what it is that the God he believes made him and whom he serves actually wants him to do.

This is the exact moment when The Voice of God appears and has a short little chat with him about it-- dryly dubbing him "The Angel of The Eastern Gate" and asking him what he did with the flaming sword. This scene is fun because we all figure that, if this is God, surely she knows what Aziraphale did with the sword, but we get to watch as he lies straight to her ball of light. We think that she approves because nothing ever happens to Aziraphale as a result of this.

However, there's no real proof in this scene that The Voice of God was ever actually talking to Aziraphale. Aziraphale is the only other character in the scene and one could theorize that he has imagined God talking to him more than God actually talking to him.

We tend to never question the fact that, while God doesn't seem to be talking to anyone else in the story in S1, that she does briefly talk to Aziraphale. This makes sense to us because Aziraphale's role in Eden was a big deal in the whole series of events on Earth and we already feel like God feels that Aziraphale and Crowley are important because she's narrating their story. Not only do they appear to have been chosen to be in Eden to help jumpstart human life on Earth but they're important enough in everything for God to be telling us their story as she chats with us. Because they're our main characters we don't see anything off about God seeing them as main characters, too.

We actually use Eden in our minds as some of the foremost proof that God exists in Good Omens. These angels act like she must and Aziraphale's spoken with her so it must be true, yes?

Except... what if it's not?

What if Aziraphale was having a crisis of faith in Eden and basically imagined speaking with God?

What if The Voice of God isn't The Voice of Actual God (if God even exists) but rather The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head?

We've never seen any proof that any of the angels or eventual demons have ever actually spoken with God, including prior to the creation of Earth. We assume that God is real because they all talk like she is but we've never been shown any concrete proof that they aren't all just believing they work for someone they've never met.

But, wait, you might say, what about Crowley and Job hearing her in the Job minisode, right? Isn't that proof?

Well... that's a bit suspect, too, and I'll show you why. It's largely hinted at in the sound mixing and context of that scene.

Like Aziraphale was outside the wall in Eden, Job was a man of faith in the midst of a massive crisis when we saw him. He and Sitis had been weathering what they believed was the wrath of God. Job's whole world was under siege and his children were in danger and his wife was begging him to go ask God for answers. When Crowley and Aziraphale come up on Job appearing to speak with God, several things are contextually important that suggest that this isn't quite what it appears to be.

Diluting the visuals is that, in this scene, the post-storm, dawn sun is starting to come through the clouds a bit, much in the way it was after the storm clouds of Eden were clearing when God appeared to Aziraphale in Eden. Job was under the light, praying and appearing to be communicating with God. Crowley and Aziraphale stop far back from Job and, when we're near them, we cannot hear God clearly. The key is in the sound mixing in this scene. When we're near Crowley and Aziraphale, God sounds like she's speaking in a wind tunnel ten miles away. We can catch snippets of words on the breeze but there's nothing tangible there. It would have been literally impossible for Crowley and Aziraphale to hear a single, complete sentence of any of this... and, based on what Job tells Sitis afterwards, he doesn't hear it, either. To add to this, Crowley is unreliable where this scene is concerned because, when it happens, he's drunk enough that we're shown him having trouble walking.

These two were drunk on food and wine in the midst of having moral crisis and watched a man pray under stormy, dawning daylight a half-mile away and think that, maybe, he might have been talking to God. That's it.

Job was in a state of madness and thinks he heard his own Voice of God when asked what happened the next day by Sitis. Crowley and Aziraphale think, from what they can see, that God really is talking to Job-- but they're so far back that they cannot hear basically anything that she's saying. They are both different kinds of intoxicated and likely seeing light and sound from the dwindling storm/emerging daybreak highlighting a man experiencing a kind of religious ecstasy and taking that for possible truth.

We hear her accurately when the camera gets closer to Job... but this all influenced by Aziraphale remembering these events as he reads them in his Bible in the bookshop, so the real is overlapping in this moment with the Biblical account... and it's also clear that Job doesn't remember much of anything he thinks that she said. He returns the next morning and tells Sitis that it was all too wonderful for him to comprehend and something something whales and ostriches. Basically, Job went a bit bonkers and convinced himself that he heard God and she was going on about different animals.

So, look at what we're saying here...

...if Job cannot remember what God said and Crowley and Aziraphale didn't hear it because they heard sounds on the wind and Crowley was drunk and Aziraphale thinks God had spoken to him before but was, that night, only speaking to Job... then from where, in the Good Omens universe, did the Job passage that is supposedly what God said to Job and was recorded in The Bible actually originate?

Who wrote it?

Who is the real Voice of God, when it comes to the Job passage and, likely, in general?

Who wrote the line that prompted Aziraphale to think back on the Job minisode in the first place-- the one that was the only thing which Gabriel could remember at first?

You know why this is all Gabriel can remember and why he looks awfully distraught at the recollection of it? Because Gabriel doubts the existence of God. He's been The Supreme Archangel for thousands of years and she's never spoken to him and The Metatron's a total bastard and God didn't even show up when Gabriel was thrown out of Heaven. What has he been clinging to all these years regarding her existence and his own sense of what the right path to take is? He's been clinging to the bit in The Bible that detailed what it was that God apparently said to Job.

Gabriel not only clings to this as proof of God's existence but he clings to it as proof that he is right to think what he does. Gabriel's own moral compass is at odds with The Metatron and Heaven, just like Crowley and Aziraphale's is. He is The Supreme Archangel of Heaven but he doesn't believe that the demons are all evil and beneath the angels. He actively works to keep angels and demons alike from The Metatron and Satan finding out that they are talking to one another. He wants to believe that God is not a villain and that she approves of this mentality and, as proof that she does, Gabriel clings to the line from Job where God told Job wistfully that she was there "when the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy." He sees this as God supporting his mindset that the angels and demons are all angels of God and to mistreat the demons is wrong.

But... if The Voice of God is The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head, then when we hear Frances McDormand, we're hearing Aziraphale.

When it came time to write what it was that God said to Job, though, it was Crowley and/or Aziraphale who actually wrote the passage below, which is why it sounds so much like how they view things:

Job, you've got questions for me? I've got questions *for you.* Do you know how I created the Earth? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth, Job? Were you there when all the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy? Do you know the rules of the Heavens? Did you set the constellations in the sky? Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you? Did you give wings to peacocks, Job, or teach the ostrich to run?

What is credited to God here are actually things that Crowley and Aziraphale did, as suggested by the Before the Beginning scene, when we see that Aziraphale was involved in the creation of Earth and Crowley designed the stars. The line to which Gabriel clings is one that God didn't say-- Crowley and/or Aziraphale wrote it, explaining Crowley's hesitation when he says to Aziraphale: "your, ah, boss... said that to Job" in response to Gabriel quoting it, as well as what it is that Aziraphale wants to talk about when he says "Crowley" upon finishing reading the bit of The Bible recounting the Job minisode-- most of which was actually written by he and Crowley.

Ok, so, if The Voice of God is really more like Aziraphale's Voice of God? This explains a few things...

It explains why we haven't heard Frances McDormand's voice speaking to any other beings besides Aziraphale and ones who are otherwise unreliable. The only being who reliably hears her is Aziraphale and that's because she is how he imagines The Voice of God. She is the one that lives is in his head and talks to him.

It also explains why her conversation with Aziraphale in Eden opens the 1.03 Cold Open and why the two instances where she shows up to Aziraphale are both very early on chronologically in Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. It's showing that Aziraphale's Inner Voice of God is something that is always within him-- because she is him-- but that hearing The Voice of God in his head was something that was probably happening with more frequency in the earlier part of Aziraphale's story-- back when he was more on his own for long stretches of time and before he had Crowley more frequently in his life to talk with about how he felt about things.

Interestingly, the last scene of the Job minisode begins with Aziraphale sitting under the sun/light of God alone, afraid that he's about to fall, echoing some of the scene outside the wall at Eden... but ends with the shot of Crowley sitting with him, after supporting him and their mutual admittance that they're both lonely without the other. The Voice of God can be seen as something of a feature of Aziraphale's loneliness but maybe he has those conversations with her/himself less frequently from the Job minisode on because both his perspective on Heaven/Hell has changed and, just as importantly, he has Crowley to talk to.

After all, remember how we said that she showed up as Aziraphale was having a whole inner crisis in Eden? The same was true in the Job minisode. Not only was Aziraphale having a whole moral dilemma over what to do about Job's kids when he apparently hears The Voice of God speaking to Job but he's just recently seen Crowley again and they are basically on a little date.

Aziraphale, in the hours prior to hearing God in the Job minisode, has just tried food for the first time-- a lot of food lol-- and is flirting his way closer to sex. He's literally taking a romantic walk with his demon love when Frances McDormand cameos so the possibility that, while he's having a very nice night, he's also internally having a bit of an ox ribs and lust guilt delusional freakout seems kind of high.

So, now, think about what else happens if Frances McDormand's Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God... Gabriel has some scenes in S2 that could be seen as playing around with this a bit.

The first is Aziraphale bringing up the concept of an author when talking with Gabriel about the book organization project. While there is humor in the fact that Gabriel can't remember what an author is-- how could he when he can't fully remember who he is?--- there's also something else at play here, too.

Gabriel's idea for how to organize the books sounds balmy but it's secretly kind of brilliant-- especially when taken as a metaphor for how to view people. Gabriel can't be bothered with categories, genres, types, labels, or titles. All he's interested in is the first letter of the first sentence on the first page of every book. While we're laughing at this because we know that he's going to end up with most of the books just clumped together under a few sections like the one we see him spending time in-- the "I" section, full of "it's" and "I" beginnings of books-- that's also the point.

We have more in common than meets the eye and Gabriel is insightful enough to bypass the labels we put on others and ourselves and just get to the common origin stories and experiences. Aziraphale asks if his plan is to sort the books alphabetically by author and Gabriel says he is by the first letter of the first sentence-- ironically, Gabriel is sorting by author, really, but he's matching up authors based on what they've written, not by their similar names.

Why this matters is because we now have this scene between Gabriel and Aziraphale where the concept of an author is in play. Gabriel can't remember what the word means but his project is based around what is actually a really deep understanding of one. At the same time, Aziraphale knows what the humans refer to as an author but is struggling to claim authorship of his own life. The word author was also at the core of this struggle for him in S1 when he prayed for help in stopping Armageddon. What was it that Aziraphale said he was looking to reach when he prayed?

"A higher authority."

Aziraphale was looking to reach God or anyone with the power to stop Armageddon and his efforts to find someone else to be that higher authority were unsuccessful and that is because we are all the authors of our own lives.

We are God.

Aziraphale is his own higher authority. He is the author of his own plan-- his own life.

And, if The Voice of God in the series that we hear is really Aziraphale?

Then look at that moment when Gabriel pulled a book off the shelf of the bookshop-- one without a title or an author, though someone has written it-- and it turned out to be one with which we're very familiar:

As Gabriel works on his book organization project, we get this trippy moment when he opens up and reads from the first page of a copy of a book that we all know as Good Omens. There is evidence that this is different from just the "lol Aziraphale is a Doctor Who fan" joke elsewhere in the season. This Clue comes in the shot showing us the book itself from multiple angles in Gabriel's hands-- and the fact that the cover is not the same as our copies of the book. It is a red clothbound hardcover with no dust jacket and no visible title or author printed anywhere on it.

The show has already established that Terry Pratchett and that other guy exist in the Good Omens universe because their solo books are visible at different points in the series. When it establishes that the novel Good Omens exists within the Good Omens universe, though, it does so only by establishing that the text of book we know does. The title of it is not visible and neither are any evidence of its authors in our world, despite their existence in this fictional one.

Moreover, by showing us the first page of what we know to be the Good Omens novel, they're showing us a part of the book that we've already heard before, near its beginning. This bit highlighted on the screen to us-- the opening sentence and first, full paragraph of the novel-- were God's narration over the end of the Eden scene in the first episode. Most of the narration of The Voice of God in S1, as we know, is taken from passages of the Good Omens novel and the show establishes in S2 with this Gabriel scene that the text of Good Omens exists in an unmarked book in Aziraphale's bookshop.

I think it's all saying pretty emphatically that Good Omens, in the Good Omens universe, was written by Aziraphale.

The only way that works then is if the voice we've been hearing both read this book to us and seeming to speak to Aziraphale is of Aziraphale's own creation, which would then mean that Frances McDormand is also, essentially, playing Aziraphale. She is just what God sounds like in Aziraphale's head. She is what Aziraphale imagines God to be. She is, effectively, Aziraphale.

This then suddenly makes everything about God's narration make a lot more sense, right? God's love of humanity and her interest in behavioral science and her cheeky, dry-as-a-bone humor is all very Aziraphale. God's love of Crowley and the way that she approves of him and Aziraphale's relationship and sees them as people like her other beings is what Aziraphale believes would be true of the loving God that he believes in and is fundamentally true of how he views their relationship and Crowley himself. God's ability to speak Crowley and Aziraphale's language and the novel being written in it becomes less that God can do so because she's God and more because she's really just Aziraphale.

The whole novel itself takes on quite a different perspective if you look at it as the book above that Gabriel found when he was organizing the books. The one that, as of S2, it was too dangerous to have labeled at all but that we can theorize was written by Aziraphale and is wrapped up and bound in Crowley's signature color and that color of love-- red.

The book we know as Good Omens is, in the Good Omens universe, a book that Aziraphale wrote for Crowley in which they are two of the characters.

This is, more than anything else we've seen so far, the real book of life.

I think that it's saying that if you were to finish the series and find this to be true, you could then go pick up the novel again and read it as if Aziraphale wrote it, with the narrative passages maybe in his Voice of God Frances McDormand voice but with the knowledge that The Voice of God is really Aziraphale himself.

I love this idea because it means that the tv series that keeps giving us more information that reframes our prior understanding of things might wind up ending with a twist where the nature of The Voice of God in the series is such that it won't even just make rewatching the show a extra fun (although it will) but it'll make it so that you'll be able to go all the way back and read the novel in a different way as well, now with the perspective that Aziraphale is meant to be its author.

This also would be fun because it'd then be viewing the tv series as the canon and the book as what Aziraphale wrote happened and any discrepancies and changes as Aziraphale's writing choices. It means you get to read the passages in the book that are descriptive of Crowley or of he and Aziraphale together from the viewpoint that Aziraphale wrote them, which honestly makes them even funnier.

This would mean that God, as she's been presented to us so far in the series, is an actual being because she's Aziraphale and that we will see her in the finale because she's been a part of our main character all along.

So... there's then just one question left... and it's the same one we had earlier on in the meta:

Does God exist?

If The Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God then is the story going to suggest that a real God does exist or is it going to suggest that she doesn't or is that going to be left as an open question?

There are a couple of paths that they could take-- two that I can see and likely some I haven't.

One is Agnes Nutter. I know a lot of people have theories that she's actually God. They could suggest or imply that a bit. In some ways, they might already have done so, as others have suggested.

The other path is the one that I think they might take, though, regardless of what they do or don't suggest with Agnes, which is to leave it so that Aziraphale is The Voice of Frances McDormand God and it's an open question as to whether or not an actual God exists.

The reason why I think it's that path that they're going to take is that Good Omens has a lot of themes around recognizing and claiming personal power and living to your own moral code. It's also very much aligning these supernatural beings in its story with the humans in it and it might just be the writer in me but I think it would be a stronger ending to have the angels and demons wondering just as much as the humans if God exists than it would be to definitively give an answer.

They're all going to know that The Ineffable/Great/Divine Plan in the sense that Heaven was saying existed for eons doesn't exist but the angels and demons will be left wondering along with the humans if they have a creator and if that creator made them for any particular reasons... just like how we wonder those things, too.

As much as the story is a religious satire, it's also a romance, and I can't see an ending of this story doing much to say that Crowley is wrong for his romantic notions that he and Aziraphale were made for each other. It's probably going to just leave the existence of God as an open question.

The story is already going to provide the characters with some much-needed peace from the fact that they'll know that what they endured was a judgement of The Metatron and not God. That and the resulting more peaceful system in Heaven will allow Crowley and Aziraphale to go live their life together without as much fear and they will do that. They might be able to put a name and a title on that book and own the authorship of their story. Even if some might label it as fiction, Gabriel, at least, sees it as belonging alongside the other, human-penned books on the I shelf in the bookshop, and he won't be the only one by the end of the story.

Not knowing then if God exists at all will yield just as many questions... but, if they had all the answers, where would be the sense of wonder in that? It will certainly give them some things to talk about for eternity together. 😊

[slutforsilverfoxes]

What Happens in New York…

You took in a deep breath as soon as you crossed through the back door of the restaurant and into the parking lot, arms outstretched while you enjoyed the brisk New York air, and declared, “I gotta get me a new job.”

“What?” Sean, your best friend and roommate of several years, taunted from behind you, making up for your head start in a few long strides. “Waiting on rich people not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Waiting on rich, crusty old white men and their wives who seem to drop in age each year isn’t cutting it anymore,” you corrected his statement. “Now gimme that helmet,” you demanded with grabby fingers. “I wanna go home, watch Marvel movies, and finish that bottle of wine we opened on Monday.”

“Speaking of old white men,” the blonde started with a laugh, tossing you your helmet before sitting astride his motorcycle and strapping his own on, “my brother’s in town. Mind if I stop by to say hi?”

“Ah, yes, the G-man,” you nodded all-knowingly, tucking your legs up under you and getting settled behind Sean’s lithe body. “Is he seeing anyone?” Sean purposefully revved the bike and pretended like he couldn’t hear you, so you tapped aggressively on his visor until he turned to give you the stink eye. “I said is he seeing anyone, you dick?”

“What’s it to you, huh?”

“Well, the way you describe him, he’s probably got a nice pension and benefits going with all the hours he works. I could make a cute housewife!”

“Funny,” your best friend deadpanned. He used his foot to raise the kickstand before guiding the bike out to the main road. “Too bad for him, ‘cause you’re my cute housewife.”

“Gross.”

His ensuing laughter got lost in the New York traffic.

—————

“Do you wanna come in with me?” Sean asked as you hopped off the bike and stretched your legs outside of the precinct.

“Nah,” you shook your head in response and pulled out your phone. “You go ahead and see big bro. I’m taking full advantage of my allotted yard time.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re a riot. Be back soon.”

“Don’t get in a fight,” you called out lazily amid a yawn, breathing in the cold winter air to ward off your exhaustion.

Several minutes later, you were scrolling idly through your phone while you waited for your friend, leaning against his bike for support and stifling yet another yawn when the hairs at the nape of your neck stood at attention, and you suddenly felt the clarity of alertness.

“Hey there,” a voice called out from nearby, and you studiously ignored the lackluster greeting. It was followed by a whistle that was evidently supposed to woo you, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, stuffing one hand into your pocket and letting out a disgruntled noise when you weren’t rewarded by your headphones. “This your bike, little lady?”

“Why, you in the market?” you barked back, finally raising your gaze to meet that of an NYPD officer.

“Maybe I am,” he responded with a smile that set you even more on edge. “Wanna take me for a test ride?” His buddy behind him laughed at the innuendo, and this time you did roll your eyes.

“Hard pass.”

“C’mon, baby, you look like you could use some fun in your life,” he continued, and when he took a step closer, your hackles rose. Deciding that my best friend’s brother is an FBI agent wasn’t going to cut it, you answered coolly, “My boyfriend’s an FBI agent working in your office up there, and I don’t think he’d take kindly to you propositioning me outside your precinct. Honor and integrity and all that, right?” You forced your mouth into a smile that dropped when the officer removed the badge pinned to his jacket.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart. And I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere.”

“Turn around.”

The rumble of an unfamiliar voice had you looking over the officer’s head to find the frowning visage of a handsome brunette with striking features. Sean came to your side protectively, murmuring, “Hey, you okay?” as the officer turned to look up at the imposing older Hotchner and stammered, “I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was with you.”

The brunette tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, and the air around him positively crackled with power. Quietly, he challenged, “And why should that matter?” As the officer opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, he took a step closer and dropped his voice even lower. “Go home to your wife, Officer-” His eyes darted over to the name tag before continuing, “-McNally, and be ready for a disciplinary hearing at some point this week, because I will be speaking to your supervisor directly.”

He nodded deferentially, refusing to make eye contact, and tried to scurry away, but Sean’s older brother barked, “Officer McNally! Isn’t there something you’d like to say to my girlfriend?”

“Sorry!” he called sheepishly, heat rising to his cheeks despite the chill outside. “Sorry, ma’am, won’t happen again.”

Sean and his brother watched until the officer and his friend had turned the corner, then directed their attention to you. “I hope that wasn’t your introduction to New York’s finest,” the older Hotchner remarked with a frown, holding his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron. Your boyfriend, apparently,” he tacked on, lips twitching to fight a smile.

A blush crept across your cheeks as you took his hand. “Y/N, Sean’s best friend. Sorry about all…that,” you said through a laugh, gesturing broadly at the scene that had just taken place.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s nice to be name dropped for a good reason,” Aaron responded warmly, this time allowing his mouth to turn upward in a genuine smile. Sean coughed pointedly beside you and you hurried to pull your hand from his brother’s grip, your face growing even warmer at the realization you’d been standing there holding his hand for several seconds like an absolute buffoon.

“Home, Sean- we should- gotta go,” you stammered out, wincing at your brain literally short circuiting from a single touch.

“Wow,” Sean breathed out through a laugh. “You actually broke her, Aaron.” Turning to you, he faux-whispered, “So you really do have a thing for older guys?”

“Woah, hey!” You yell to be heard through laughter in the present. “You did not say that,” you call your best friend on his bullshit, pointing a fork threateningly in his direction. Aaron gently lowers your wrist as you continue, “And I wasn’t that awestruck, okay? He was handsome, but I wasn’t like, drooling, guys, c’mon-”

“Maybe just a little,” your fiancé teases, eyes widening playfully when you turn the silverware on him next.

“Derek.” You turn to Aaron’s friend and declare, “You’re getting upgraded to best man and young Hotchner over there is being relegated to flower girl.”

Sean winks at you from his temporary spot on the floor where he’s regaling your friends and families with the story of how he introduced you two- at least, his version of the story. “Just so you know, I happen to look cute in a dress.”

“Have some more champagne, honey,” Aaron instructs with a smile as he refills your flute. You dutifully take a sip and mumble around the glass, “You’re not giving this speech tomorrow, Sean.”

“Speech?” Your best friend barks out a laugh, and you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. “Baby girl, I’ve got a whole PowerPoint documenting your journey into the family, don’t you worry. Pictures and everything.”

“Aaron,” you whine. “Make it stop.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em,” Aaron laughs before pressing a kiss to your pouting lips.

“Clearly,” you grumble. “You Hotchner men will be the death of me.”

—————

[A/N: Why did I write this? Who’s to say? I love a lil brother vibe, might have to explore more of Sean’s bff as Aaron’s girl 👀 Hope somebody enjoyed this crack]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey! Hope you're having a fab day <3 I came across your lil Daemon/Matt 'crackfic' and it gave me such a giggle...plus also got me thinking about a similar scene with Aemond/Ewan..! Obviously no pressure to write this, but what about a sorta Aemond x reader scene where they're maybe filming a sparring scene? Fight training/flirting vibes? Doesn't have to be anything spicy, maybe just fluffy flirty good times but also realistically aemond x reader sparring = *sexual tension* so lol, take from it what you will. As I say, no pressure at all to write this. I love your blog so much and am such a fan of your work! Wishing you a wonderful weekend xoxo

Choke 'Em

Ewan Mitchell x Actress!Reader (low key Aemond x Reader)

Summary: You and Tom were very much convinced that Ewan is good at everything, so you had a bet that even if you took Ewan surprise in one of your sparring takes, he could 100% overpower you. Things don't necessarily go as planned.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, drama instigator!tom glynn-carney, puppy!ewan, idk how to choreograph action 😞, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: YES IN A MILLLION LANGUAGEs, i watched like this one of 3 actors from the last kingdom saying they think ewan is good at everything or something along the lines, and then theres this gif set of tom glynn-carney saying that he was going to bite ewan and ewan was basically "aw yeah!" and ASFHLASHFHASFHFHA PUPPY im love him, anyway, i had those stuff in mind when i wrote this i hope you like it my love floofdeloop. i did an express pass on your req cos i have been writing rpfs lol also this gif T_T HES SO ??????????? HOT ????? HELP ME WHY DO I THINK THIS OF HIM ???? HWELP? Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

"No!" I exclaim, shoving Tom from the floor we were sat on. He nearly chokes on his salad as he falls to his side and laughs. His hand darts out to keep him upright, his laughter dies down when he turns to me.

I continue, "I can't attack him outside of the choreography we practiced!"

"I'm not telling you to do that!" Tom says, raising his voice in amusement, "I'm saying maybe just-" he breathes out through his nose, "go a bit harder than normal? Or-or add a few licks to-"

"Tom," I deadpan.

"Oh, please," he blows a raspberry, "against him? You're dead meat."

"He's not immune to accidents, lame brain," I take the final bites of my sandwich.

"All I'm saying is, Ewan is probably, like, secretly a swordsman."

"Dude," I point, "there's nothing secret about that."

I look out to the set, watching as Ewan, who quickly finished his lunch to rebuff on our choreography, twist the prop sword in his hands with much ease and mastery.

I chew slowly, "maybe I could tell him I'm doing extra attacks beforehand."

Tom, who stuffed some salad into his face as he too watched Ewan from afar, turns to me, perking up in intrigue. He speaks with a mouthful quite excitedly, "yes, yes, yeth, weth!"

I give him a look then purse my lips as I shove a tissue to his mouth

When we got to filming the dialogue part of our scene, we already set a pretty high bar for our consequential fight sequence, and so when I offered the idea of adding an extra few jabs in my sword fighting, not just to Ewan, but to our fight choreographer and director, they were all on board with it.

"I was thinking I could," I start, raising my imaginary weapon up, pointing at Ewan, "try to jab at you by your throat, then," I slowly step forward, twirling the way we did in practice, "once you evade me, I could elbow you," I bring my arm by his chest and slowly push him back, "and shove you against the wall."

Ewan, following my train of thought and movements, steps back and leans back on the wall. He nods, looking down at me with a soft smile, "I like it," he turns to the choreographer, "I think it adds to their tension."

I turn to our choreographer and director, nodding, "then we could add the dialogue we scraped off cause there was no room for it."

The director claps his hands, "I love it," he motions to us, "then you can grab her, and try to make her confess."

I turn to Ewan, leaning back into him a bit so that he could bring his arms around me. I turn front then look down at his arms that were coming around me. I pull him tightly around me like a jacket.

Ewan has no choice but to lean into me; my back was against his chest and I could hear his breathing. He was a welcome presence in all honesty. Quickly, I relax against him and he seemingly does the same against me.

"Well obviously not like that," the director calls, "you look like a married couple if you do that."

We break into a laugh. I lean against him, "it's not too late to change the script. She and Aemond could away together."

Ewan hums, as though he was in character, "I think he would like that."

I snort, turning to Ewan and his eyepatch, "I would like that."

Ewan's eye darts down to me quickly. He purses his lips, holding back a chuckle. I pull away from him when I see the pink in his skin, laughing a bit louder.

"Shall we give it a go?" the director asks.

One nod later, and were back in our marks, ready to tryout our added choreo.

"You lied to me," I heave, "you told me you would release my father if I gave you the information you needed.

Aemond walks over to me, hands behind his back, "I said I would think about releasing your father."

My expression drops, my nostrils flare, "liar."

He hums.

"Craven!"

He chuckles.

"MONSTER!" I lunge towards him and the next second, Aemond has his sword unsheathed. We go against each other, weapon against weapon, then he overpowers me, sending me reeling back. I push against the crates behind me, as the prince calls out, "let me offer you another deal you surely cannot refuse."

I fume, groaning, "I think we're past deals, oh prince."

"Oh, but I-"

Aemond's eye widens as I press forward a few lines too early. Like clockwork, I attack him just like we practiced earlier, except, he was clearly taken off guard and reacts a bit too late.

Once I have him pressed against he wall, he looks down at me, shocked, heaving.

He's forgotten his line.

I make up for his silence, "perhaps you are prettier up close."

"CUT!"

I pull away from Ewan, turning to him, dropping my prop. I reach out to his cheeks, giving him a worried look, "are you okay? I didn't injure you, did I?"

"I-" his hands come up to my wrists, "no, no," he chuckles under his breath, "I was just a bit floored by how fearsome my lady is."

My face contorts into a smile, "my lady, am I?"

"I-" he opens his mouth, "well, I mean... yes."

We both break into a chuckle. It seems we both had blood rising up our necks now.

"That was amazing!" the director calls, walking up to us, making us pull away, "I like these turn of events more than what we had planned."

"What if they have more contact?" Ewan pipes up, coming in front of me, "in this part, instead of being turned back," he looks at me intently, "you can lift your sword to my neck then choke me."

I gasp when he takes my hand and places it by the base of his throat. It was quite softly spoken, but it seems it was not soft enough, "damn, that's kinky."

Ewan's jaw slacks.

I break into a chuckle, playing it off, just as the director laughs, proceeding to say, "I like it! The more sexual tension the better." He turns to me, "choke him real good."

Ewan begins to stutter. My own jaw slacks as I feel my face heat up. I awkwardly nod and salute, "will do."

[mikkomacko]

Only Devils in the Building

Episode One: Elevator from Hell

Nico Hischier x Reader, Platonic Jack Hughes x reader

Warnings: none

~

99 Hudson was the residential center of Jersey. It’s the epitome of wealth and elegance. Anyone who is anyone in Jersey lives at the 99 Hudson. From rich businessman to local celebrities to Hoboken models, 99 Hudson has got it all.

Including an absurd amount of New Jersey Devils.

Three weeks into living at the 99 I met Jack Hughes. AirPods tucked into my ears, I hit play on the Buff City Boys podcast, the familiar voice of Tony Granzia flooding through. It was probably a bad idea to be listening to the work of my former employer only three weeks after being fired but I couldn’t help it. It was the mosquito bite I had to itch, the acne spot I had to pick at, the chapped lip I couldn’t stop gnawing on.

I needed to hear everything from him.

I didn’t hear the man come up behind me, I didn’t even see him until the elevator had reached the 69th floor and his presence crowded behind me to get in. He was impatient and fidgety, standing directly in front of the closed doors and tapping his foot impatiently.

The Yankees logo on his backwards hat caught my attention first, my lips pursing with distaste at the sight. Then I noticed the way his ears stuck out, elvish and funky with his curls tucked behind them.

The elevator continued its descent and I finished eyeing him up and down just in time for him to turn over his shoulder and look at me. Icy blue eyes locked into mine, and a crooked smile took over his face for a moment before his thin lips opened to speak. Almost instantly, I realized who he was, familiar with the face of the middle Hughes brother that’s caused envy in every New York hockey team. I watched him speak, hiding my amusement when he titled his head, confused with my lack of response.

Cheeks turning pink, his already youthful face looked even younger with his flush of embarrassment and I finally pulled an AirPod out of my ear, halting the podcast.

Jack made a noise of realization, nodding his head as he laughed to himself. “I was just saying that you’d think they’d make the elevator faster for such a big building.”

That was a weird thing to say, I thought. Maybe not to people who like to make conversation with strangers, but I’m not one of them. Blinking a few times, I glimpsed at the number above the door.

5th floor

My gaze fell back to Jack. “That’s probably why there’s six elevators.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. I tucked my AirPod back in, waiting patiently for him to turn and leave. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, unashamed in their quizzical gaze before he stepped out and I followed. We walked a few feet apart from each other to the front door, his footsteps muffled by my AirPods but I could hear him clearly when I held the door open and he let out a cheerful, “Thanks!”

We broke away from each other after that, him heading towards an expensive looking BMW idling in on the valet and me down the sidewalk to the main street. Even as he climbed in the front seat of the car, I felt his eyes on me.

He’s cute, I thought to myself, in a weird way.

~~~~~~~~

A week later I met Nico Hischier.

Again in the elevator, I had just hit the door close button when a hand snuck into the crack of it and the two doors shot open. The same blue eyes and Yankees cap I’d seen the week before greeted me, Jack’s face splitting into a goofy smile when he saw me.

He stepped in, this time standing in the corner opposite of me. Behind him trailed another familiar face, and I assumed he was a teammate of Jack’s based on the similar gait they had, but I couldn’t quite place the name.

If Jack was cute, then this man was beautiful. He was only a few inches taller than Jack, but his large shoulders and presence seemed to take up the whole elevator. He was already watching me when I met his gaze, large brown eyes drinking me in like I was hot tea on a bitter cold rainy day. His full, pink lips were parted like he wanted to say something before they quickly fell shut. He did that for a couple seconds, lips moving like a fish out of water but he never spoke and neither did I.

He didn’t look nervous though or uncomfortable at all, unlike Jack. No, he looked content, at peace in the elevator that suddenly felt too small.

What does one say to someone who looks as good as him? I didn’t know and frankly I never thought I’d figure it out. Outside of sports, my mind has a hard time coming up with words especially words meant for men with pretty eyes.

Jack stole my attention when he started craning his neck around to look at me curiously. Turning to him with narrowed eyes, I wondered what in the world he was looking for. After a moment he stilled, eyes meeting mine and he smirked.

“Had to make sure you’d hear me this time,” he teased and I immediately pulled the white case out of my coat pocket, flicking the top open. I was never going to actually put the AirPods in but it was funny to watch the way his eyes widened in offense when I reached to pull a bud out.

“Wait! I want to talk!” He argued, reaching over to flick the top shut. I couldn’t hide my amusement that time, smiling in victory as he huffed.

“You’ve got until the doors open.” I said, trying my best to ignore the heavy gaze of his teammate on my face. Was he looking at the acne spot on my chin? Or at my mouth? Or maybe he’s noticing the little bump on the bridge of my nose? Not knowing made me want to throw something at him.

I pressed back into the wall instead, my lungs feeling tight. Unsure of what to do with myself, I focused back to Jack.

“You just move in right?”

I shrugged. “Like a month ago, why?”

“I moved in early this summer, never saw you before. And Nico has lived here forever and hadn’t seen you either.”

Where was he going with this? They were looking for me? “Congrats?”

Jack rolled his eyes. The elevator continued to climb but not nearly fast enough. Six elevators and I still get stuck in the one with him.

“Where’d you live before?”

I glanced at the number. 52nd floor.

“Buffalo,” I said, watching the number move up and up.

Jack made a noise of approval. “You know who we are.” He responded, no question about it. I didn’t conform or deny his words, just looked between the two of them. Nico was still eyeing me with that sparkly glint in his eyes.

“You’ve got a very familiar voice,” Jack continued, taking a step towards me like he was a child with a sweet tooth stepping up to an ice cream counter. “Have we met before?”

“No,” I said and the elevator showed the 65th floor.

“What’s your name?”

I waited for the elevator to ding and the doors to open. “Y/n,” I said quickly, moving in front of Nico and his large presence but refusing to look into those stupid eyes if his again. Before Jack could even begin to say another word I stepped out, heading left towards my apartment and hoping to god his was the other way.

~~~

I didn’t learn Nico’s name until two days later.

A baseball game was playing on the tv, two teams I didn't care about but the Mets were coming up next so I had it on in the background. It was good white noise to have while I worked, or at least attempted to. My laptop sat blank in front of me, all editing and writing projects falling flat. I was spending too much time caught up on Tony Granzia and it was keeping me from moving on. I knew that was the truth but that didn't keep from racking up listens for him.

I would have been annoyed by the banging on my door, loud and insistent, if I had actually been doing something worthwhile. But any attempts at trying to get back on the saddle were failing and I couldn't look at my screen anymore. So I got up and went to the door, answering it because I already knew who was going to be on the other side and I wasn't that annoyed by him anymore.

"Good you're home," Jack greeted, Nico standing behind him looking far more sheepish than he had in the elevator. He still looked at me with those glimmering eyes but he seemed to be chewing on the inside of his lip by the way his jaw moved and his dimple sunk into his cheek.

Jack pushed forward and I barely had time to move aside before he would've quite literally mowed me down. Nico stayed in his place for a moment, wide eyed as his friend moved deeper into my entryway and then he smiled, embarrassed and shy.

"Uh, Nico." He introduced, taking his hand out of his sweats pocket to hold out to me. I reached over and shook it, trying not to think about how his palms were warm and a bit sweaty, but he was strong. So strong that my pinky finger popped when he squeezed his finger and I pulled my hand back in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he mumbled, but I blew it off and just moved further into the side of the wall so he could come in. Nico seemed to shrink into himself, shoulders hunching forward and he stuck his hands back in his pockets like he was trying to seem smaller. It didn't work and I couldn't help but smile when I closed the door and turned to find him toeing off his Nikes by my discarded shoes.

"Hischier, right?" I asked when he was done and his head whipped around to look at me, eyes crinkling with the large smile that broke across his face.

"Yeah!" He confirmed, "It's Swiss."

There was no other way to describe the swooping feeling in my stomach other than swoon. I was swooning over Nico Hischier who so obviously was Swiss if the slight lisp in his accent and his sock clad feet were anything to go by. That and the beanie on his head had a tiny Swiss flag embroidered on the fold.

"You don't say," I giggled, leading him into the living room. We found Jack there, standing behind my couch and watching the tv. He waited for me to sit on the couch and Nico in the recliner next to it before hopping over the back, shoes and all falling on my couch.

Nico shot him a warning look, thick eyebrows lowering in a scolding look and Jack immediately dropped his feet to the rug.

"Orioles game? Really?" Jack muttered, nose scrunching in judgement and I resisted the urge to tell him that his team was looking worse off than Baltimore.

"I had it on while I was working." I said instead, reaching forward to close my laptop. Not before he caught sight of the blank document though and an eager grin took over his face.

Jack looked at Nico with wide eyes, tipping his head towards me as if trying to get Nico to speak. He just looked at me though, sinking into the cushions of the recliner and that peaceful glaze washed over his face.

I bit at my bottom lip, trying my best to stop from grinning like a fool at him. Jack, ever impatient, took over the conversation again. "Looks like you're just as unproductive us which is great because I have an idea!"

"That must be really hard for you." I replied, fluttering my eyelashes innocently when he frowned with offense.

"It is," he played along, "anyway, I googled you and found your old podcast, the one you did in Buffalo that was really good and then you disappeared from and now it's bad. Anyway, we have the whole summer and we think you should start another one."

It took a bit for his idea to sink in. Mostly because I couldn't believe he googled me and I wanted to know what else came up besides my work in Buffalo. But also because I never imagined Jack Hughes would be bursting into my apartment to tell me that I need my own show.

"What?"

Groaning loudly, Jack grabbed ahold of my shoulders and made me look him dead in the eye.

"Do not touch me." I mumbled, shaking off his hold.

He released me, holding his hands up in the air in defense but his gaze remained serious and locked on mine. "You need to start your own podcast, with us, specifically but like it would mainly be yours because we don't know what we're doing?"

I couldn't help it. "What?" I said again. Not that I didn't hear him or understand, I just didn't know what to say. I had worked on Buff City Boys for three years and only had two episodes I could really claim as mine. I had other editing and segment ideas but they technically fell under Tony's name. And when I had tried to go beyond, be more than a background voice and editor, I had been fired. How was I supposed to do this on my own let alone from scratch? Buff City Boys at least had a following when I got there, something to build off of. I have nothing...except two NHL players.

"You're good." Nico cut in, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to be closer to us. "I listened to it with Jack a few times, your football episode was great."

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I met Nico's gaze. He had such expressive eyes, like every thought and feeling he's ever had has bled out of them. Certain and strong, he didn't waver when I helplessly stared at him for a moment.

"I stole your draft team," he added, dimple sinking into his cheek as he shyly smiled "and for the first time since I moved here I didn't come in last. I made it all the way to the SuperBowl."

I couldn't help but laugh picturing this European hockey player listening to my Fantasy Football breakdown episode and modeling his team after it. I bet Jack was furious, he looked like the type to reveal in his friends embarrassment.

"If you can fix his fantasy team, you can do anything."

The tv screen flashed as the Mets game began, and I sat there for a moment watching the starting lineup pop-up. Nico, pleased with his contributions settled back into the plush chair and propped his feet up on my coffee table. I could feel Jack's eyes on me though and I knew any second he'd be bugging for an answer.

"What do you get out of it?"

It wasn't technically an agreement but they could hear it in my voice because Nico's gaze shined with pride and Jack fist pumped just once before reclining back against the couch.

"Chicks dig guys with podcast." He smirked and I snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah ok, as if hockey player isn't already a bright red flag."

I saw him pout out of the corner of my eye, looking to Nico for backup who was watching us like we were his favorite sitcom. "We get to hang out with you," he said, "which would be fun. And I don't know how radio works either so that'd also be fun."

"Podcast isn't really radio." I replied, biting back a giggle.

"You know what I mean," He scoffed, "besides we need a smart friend, teach us to not be red flags or something."

I looked over at him, found him with big begging doe eyes and before I could second guess myself I said, "Okay, let's do it."

Jack and him high-fived, I returned to watching my favorite team on the TV and Jack tapped the top of my head in thanks. The three of us fell silent, comfortable in this new odd friendship and for the first time since I moved to Jersey I felt like I was home.

Nico broke the silence first. "Can you explain the pitches? Because like what?"

"Oh my god!" Jack huffed, pushing himself up from the couch and moving around the back to go dig around my kitchen most likely. I laughed, patting the cushion next to me and Nico was quick to settle in next to me.

"Don't listen to Jack, he's just mad that we have a better bullpen than the Yankees."

Nico's thigh pressed into the side of mine, warm even though the leggings I was wearing and I didn't stop myself from turning my knee towards him.

"Um hello?! We have Gerrit Cole!" Jack yelled from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, snickering with Nico.

"Call me when the spider tack runs out and we'll talk about Cole."

Somewhere behind us Jack grumbled and muttered, saying god knows what and Nico just watched and listened.

Six elevators in the whole building and I got stuck with them. How lucky was I?