#who's going to stop me? I.T.?

[scorchieart]

PSA from a tired server technician

If you're on a website, or an application, or some hum-dum-diggory 64-bit program and you're clicking a button and it doesn't respond after the first couple of times...

Do not spam click it.

Trust me, it will not fix your problem. It'll only make it worse. I understand it can be frustrating to wait, but patience is a virtue.

[partywithponies]

Listen. Beloveds. I say this gently. But you have got to stop using the "oh yeah? you think it's fine to ship this? trying telling your family members and coworkers about your ship and see how they react 😤" argument in your shipping discourse.

You do realise that to most normies who have never been in fandom, all shipping is deranged behaviour, right? You know this, right?? You do know that even if your ship is the most wholesome and unproblematic thing possible, if you go up to your Great Auntie Barbara or Gary From I.T. or whoever and are like "oh yeah one of my main hobbies? going online every single day without fail and talking to a bunch of strangers about how much these same two fictional characters should kiss. yeah I spend HOURS of my free time drawing them kissing and writing them kissing and editing footage of the show to appear more romantic too", there's a strong chance they are going to think you are unbelievably embarrassingly cringe at best and utterly insane and worth avoiding from now on at worst, right????

Please. Please don't encourage impressionable teens and young adults to think it's okay to bring up any fandom shit at the dinner table or in the staffroom unprompted without the danger of having real social repercussions. Please my loves you are stressing me out. Please promise me you don't do this. Oh baby no.

[anotherwvba]

By Blood or By Choice pt. 9

The soft hum of the servers and faint buzz of the fluorescent lights filled the I.T. Department. At her desk, bathed in the soft glow of her dual monitors, Nicole Gordon was pounding away at her keyboard with an intensity she reserved for the heavy bag. Right now, the video servers were her opponent and she found herself wishing that she could lace up the gloves and let Niki Binary go to town.

“Come on, you piece of junk. Pierce is gonna flip,” she muttered, frustration simmering as she pictured herself pummeling the stubborn machinery that greeted her first thing this morning. “Maybe a good 1-2-5 to the back-up servers…” 

The click-clack of her keystrokes was the only sound aside from the background hums, at least until a hesitant voice spoke up from beside her.

“Uh, Miss Gordon? I got a problem with my email account,” a young intern stammered, approaching her desk as if he were approaching a lioness in her den.

Without looking up, Nicole snapped, "Can't you see I'm busy here? If I don't get the site back up and running soon, Pierce will have my head." Her voice carried the edge of someone who had been staring at her monitor for far too long.

The intern, a lanky young man with glasses named Ethan, stumbled back, his face going white. Great job, Niki. Scare the new guy, why don’t you? Nicole took a deep breath, “Hey, Ethan, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off. Let me just finish up with this server mess, and I'll help you out, okay?" Nicole offered, mustering a smile that reached her eyes.

"Thank you, Miss Gordon. I really appreciate it," his relief evident as he retreated back to his own desk.

“Nicole!” she called out to Ethan with a smile and a chuckle, “It’s Nicole. Not Miss Gordon. You’re older than me for crying out loud.”

Nicole looked back to her monitors and whispered to them, “Alright, you bum. Round two. I’m gonna beat… your… a…”

“Excuse me?” A voice from behind her startled her and she spun in her seat, ready to unleash a torrent of techy sarcasm, but she stopped short. There stood a young man in a suit that looked like he had been dragged backwards through the shrubs in front of the building by his head. He clutched an old briefcase in one hand and a cafeteria to-go bag in the other. And it was clear the to-go bag was his priority.

Centering herself with another deep breath, one of many she’s taken this morning, she realized, Nicole switched gears, “Morning. How can I help you?”

“Yeah. I’m Jason. It’s my first day on the legal team and you’re supposed to have my laptop?” A thick New York accent gave a punchy rhythm to his words.

Nicole turned toward her co-worker, “You’ll need to talk to…” Make that her co-worker’s empty desk. Great. “... me. Looks like you need to talk to me.” With a sigh, Nicole stood up and began to navigate the labyrinth of desks that led to a table on the edge of the room. The table held equipment for new hires to pick up and she quickly found a book bag tagged ‘Jason Jeopardy.’

As she made her way back to her desk, Nicole unzipped the bag and carefully laid the contents out, checking each in turn: a 21” laptop, power supply, compact Bluetooth mouse, keyboard, and headset. Jason's eyes widened as she laid out the items like a dealer at a poker table. "Something wrong?" she asked, noticing his surprise.

Doubt colored Jason’s expression as his eyes darted back and forth between Nicole and the equipment. “All this is new?” 

“Yeah.”

“And it’s for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” 

“What?”

"Never had new equipment before,” Jason said matter of factly, shaking his head. “Always second-hand stuff, maybe, and tech support that's more fiction than fact."

Nicole couldn't help but smile. "Well, welcome to WVBA. We make sure our fighters—and our staff—are well-equipped. Now," she handed him a packet of papers, “here’s your set-up and initial login instructions and right here it tells you how to reach the I.T. help desk if you need anything. We’re 24/7.”

"Thanks, Nicole," he said, something that sounded like gratitude mixing with his natural sarcasm. They parted with polite nods, Jason heading to the door with his newfound tech treasure and Nicole psyching herself up to go another round with the website servers.

Just as he reached the exit, Jason paused and turned back, carefully holding up his cafeteria bag like it was his most prized possession. "Hey, do they always give out free breakfast here?"

"Yeah. Lunch and dinner too, for all the staff and fighters. The WVBA takes care of its own," she confirmed, her pride in the league evident, even as her eyes never left her monitors.

Jason looked around, taking in the well-equipped office and the perks he had just been introduced to. His exhausted face cracked with the slightest of smiles. "I think I'm gonna like it here."

Jason Jeopardy is an OC belonging to @lukasdoodle and is used with permission.

[lulubelle814]

Regards, Loki - Chapter 26

Master List

By late Wednesday, Mel had been in contact with Ms. Porter who said it should be fine, but she needed to clear it with the boss and would let her know once she got his ok.  It wasn’t 30 minutes later when she followed up saying that Mr. Conrad gave the okay.  They would just need to be escorted by Ms. Porter as well as security.  They’d need to agree on when and listed a few options for weeknights and the upcoming weekend.  If an alternate date/time was needed, they could see if they could comply.

Louisa,

I spoke with Ms. Porter.  She checked with the owner and advised we could set up the after hours visit.  She and security will need to be in attendance for liability purposes but will keep a respectable distance.

Here is a list of dates and times they provided (that also work with my schedule) but will work with us if needed.

Please let me know when you have a chance.

Regards,

Mel

Louisa read over the email, feeling relieved that they’d actually get to do this.  With it being her only option, at least she’d get a head start on how it’d feel to be back in the environment.  Her therapist could then help her with ways and ideas of how to cope with issues she may have once actually returning to work.

The next evening, she and her therapist met outside her office building.  Louisa already felt the anxiety start just looking at the building.  Mel could see it.  “We don’t have to go inside if you’re not ready.”

She shook her head.  This was something she had to do.  She needed her job.  “No, it’s ok,” she lied.  They went inside and were greeted by Ms. Porter at the door.  “Mr. Conrad wanted to join us, but I told him it would be better if it were just us ladies.  He’s just a phone call away if you decide you’d like him to be here.”  Louisa shook her head.  This was already hard enough.  Ms. Porter and the security guard escorted them inside.  The further they got into the building, the more anxiety Lou felt.  

Mel wanted to visit her desk as well as the restroom where she was taken.  If things went okay, she wanted to visit that conference room.  Louisa put on a brave face as they approached her desk.  Sitting down in her chair, she felt mostly alright.  After spending a few minutes there, Ms. Porter led them to the restroom Louisa exited when the incident occurred.  Looking at the door itself made her anxious, but she shoved it down.  They went into and back out of the restroom.  Mel asked how she felt.  “It’s just so surreal being here.”  She was anxious, but she knew the next stop would be the worst.  

As they approached the back conference room where Mr. Price had taken her, anxiety gripped her tight, slowing down as they reached the door.  Memories started flashing through her mind, and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

Mel reassured her.  “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Ms. Porter stepped forward.  “Mr. Conrad is having this turned into a storage room.  We’d talked about it before, but since the incident, he’s eager to get it done.  We realized that I.T. would need a separate place to work, and the servers needed to be in a larger room.  Shelving is being put up to store tech and such.  The back of the room will have some long term storage so that it can be kept onsite.”

Louisa looked around the room.  The table was gone, and she saw the shelves that were being built as well as a wrapped desk on its side.  Servers were against the wall, and wires were hanging from the ceiling.

She felt the memory of her head being hit, the phantom pain in the back of her head.  Her hand reached back to touch it, feeling the scare forming where she’d been hit and began feeling overwhelmed, her breathing becoming stunted.  Mel and Ms. Porter led her back out and into a nearby chair.

“Place your head between your knees and take a deep breath.”  Lou did as she instructed, and Mel rubbed her back.  “It’s okay.  He can’t hurt you.”

Ms. Porter tried to help reassure her.  “Mr. Conrad has been working with our legal team to throw the book at him.  He has no patience for people like Mr. Price, and frankly neither do I.  If Mr. Conrad has his way (and I hope he does), Mr. Price will never see the light of day again.”

Louisa could barely hear them, focusing on her breathing.  The security guard was kind enough to get her a glass of water when her therapist asked.  Melanie handed it to her, telling her to take small sips.  Once her breathing was under control, she slowly sat back up.

They talked for a bit.  Her therapist was proud of how well she handled it, all things considered but could tell her client was hiding something.  Rather than bring it up now, she opted to wait until their next session.  Security locked up behind them, and Louisa got into her car.

When she got home, Cora was waiting, knowing this was going to be hard on her.  When she came through the front door, she was obviously shaken.  Cora led her to the sofa to sit before she passed out.  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

Louisa took a few breaths before responding.  “It went a little better than I thought.  I was relatively okay until we reached that conference room.”  Tears started falling before she was aware of it.  Cora gently placed her arms around her friend, giving her a comforting hug.  “It’s ok, Lou.  I promise.”  

They had a low-key night, ordering pizza and watching tv, eventually falling asleep on the couch.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke

[dootiexcupcake]

𝚈𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚊𝚠 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚖

Seventeen and stray kids law firm AU (minor monstaX chankyun)

Warnings: male feminization (I think?) [minghao is called a “headmistress” and Hyunjin is affectionately called a “bimbo”], abuse of power, misrepresentation of a work environment

Pairings: none but it’s sorta hinted that Joshua and Jeonghan sleep with their female clients to get what they want

Here is an unfinished headcanon of Seventeen and Stray Kids law firm au I was working on in February but lost motivation for 🤣👏🏾

Senior Partners: Joshua and Jeonghan

Office Manager: Zu Minghao

Computer Department Manager (IT): Wonwoo

Associates: I.M, DK, Wen Junhui,

Law Clerk: Boo Seungkwan, Kim Mingyu

Legal Assistant: Lee Jihoon

Legal Secretary: Chwe Vernon

Receptionist: Hwang Hyunjin

Data Entry Clerk: Lee Chan

꧁———————————————꧂

Joshua Hong and Yoon Jeonghan

it is IMPERATIVE that you say their names together because you truly cannot have one without the other

Both graduated at the top of their law class and bar exams

Now they run a huge law firm with the best of the best working under them

Yes I said working “under” them because these two have quite the ego to them…

All those cases they’ve won, the money they make, the connections they have..it deeefinitely went to their heads. Just a little bit

THEY ARE THE ONLY MEN ALLOWED TO BE COCKY AND A LITTLE MEAN‼️

Joshua, such an approachable man ~ he offers you a bottle of water as you both take a seat at his desk

You smile at him and feel the nervous coil in your stomach begin to die down when his warm gaze sets over you

You go over your case in detail and finish off with a sigh, happy to get everything off your chest so you can get this big misunderstanding taken care of

“I know you did it.” He deadpans. His small smile still etched on his face

Your stomach drops and so does your smile

“D-did what?”

“I may be pretty but I’m not stupid, lady.” He chuckles

“It’s Y/N”

“Look, I would love to sit here and play this game with you but, this is a pretty big homicide case you so kindly dropped in my lap. So let’s cut the crap.”

Your pretty sure you look like a deer in headlights now. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ You think to yourself. How did he know that the story you came up with you “accidentally killing your husband” was fabricated?

And to think you were a pretty good liar too…

“Don’t get me wrong, you came to the perfect place! I can get you off and make it look like your neighbor did it…but,“ he trails off.

“But what? I can pay for it! I-I have money!”

“Oh sweetheart…I’ve got plenty of it. I’m gonna need something more than that ~”

꧁————————————꧂

Minghao

v v strong headmistress vibes from him. Down to the pointed stares and the glasses sitting low on his nose

Is constantly bumping heads with Hyunjin who barely does any work and only gossips with Seungkwan

Because of his long time friendship with Josh and Hannie, he is essentially in charge of hiring and firing people in the office

But with that said, everyone knows he has a soft spot for Hyunjin

So the bimbo can stay ♥︎

Total clean freak

While cleaning duty technically isn’t his job requirement, he can’t STAND to work in a filthy office and the cleaning crew doesn’t do much of a good job in his opinion

Walking into his office is more intimidating than walking into Joshua or Jeonghans office tbh

Though he does have a bad habit of nagging, it takes A LOT to screw up so bad that he demands you to come up and see him

10/10 would not recommend getting degraded and yelled at by Minghao (…or maybe I would)

꧁————————————꧂

Wonwoo

eyyy I.T guy WOOOOOO

So laid back and chill like,,,this dude literally powers every IMPORTANT PERSONAL MACHINE THAT CAN MAKE OR BREAK A CASE AND HAS STOPPED A DEVASTATING CYBER ATTACK ON THEIR OFFICE SYSTEMS AND IS JUST LIKE

“Yeah 🧍🏻‍♂️”

He’s also insanely smart too

But because of his nonchalant/aloof attitude, many other companies and firms turned him down thinking he was some inexperienced college kid that would only cause problems

Buuut it’s a good thing Minghao has the ability to literally look into peoples souls and see past their surface because boy oh boy dID HE SMELL GENIUS A MILE AWAY

Minghao put in a good word for him is what I’m trying to say…

Being in the computer room all day is mind numbingly boring, so the best way possible to waste time is by watching k-dramas

Should he be doing that on office hours? Absolutely not.

Is he going to stop? NOoOoOoo mA’aM noOoOoO Ma’Am

Bonus points for the days when Dino comes in and they can binge watch Secretary Kim together

On those special slow days at the office, Wonwoo likes to wrangle the gang™️ together (Vernon, Seungkwan, Dino, and Mingyu) and play a quick round of Mario party with them before Hao comes and shuts it all down

Has affectionately given Minghao the nickname “Holly Blue”

iykyk

Overall, cool older brother

꧁————————————꧂

Associates

Chankyun

ooooh ok LETS GO

Chankyun takes himself waaaay too seriously lol

He’s in his Miles Edgeworth era 🤪

Comes in wearing expensive suits and shoes

Hair slicked back

Cold attitude

You name it

…this dude literally just got out of college

Even tho he’s a bit stuck up, he is actually a pretty competent attorney

It’s his dream to be able to run his own law firm and be an equity partner with DK

Dokyeom

DK

DK is genuinely a pretty cool dude in and out of the office

Seeing how cut throat the law business is, many people are surprised when DK

—————-

And that’s it. That is legit how far I got LOOOOOOOL yeah but y’all ain’t miss anything I promise 💀. Who knows, I might complete this headcanon one day. I did a little research on law firm terminology just to write this lil thing so I might as well put it to some good use yeah? But this is it for now 🤷🏾‍♀️

main m.list

svt m.list

[snxpdragons]

plz tell me abt ur wips

Im assuming this is about my art wips but!!!! I can't share those because its a birthday present and the person looks at my blog occasionally lol. All I draw/write about these days are ocs though. Theres at least 20 different sketches of lucifer specifically floating around. I did this whole thing last month where I kept drawing him as photos of awsten knight lmao

In terms of my writing though, I'm mainly working on three things right now [again all original work/oc stuff]

- This Time Last Year, its a breakup au between Giovanni [Anxious wreck of an engineer] and Miko [Loud + brash punk cartographer] where of course theyre exes and they're forced to get along during a Bachelorette party + wedding. Lots and lots of shenanigans, Miko is sorta dating Esme [sexy ambassador lady, tho bassist in this au] in the meantime but she's totally still into her ex, and Giovanni is an I.T guy that somehow became besties with a famous singer. Theres a solid side plot about Lucifer and Damien and them coming to terms with their relationship/them being more than friends with benefits. The first two chapters are actually already on ao3, but im rewriting ch2 and writing ch3 simultaneously.

- The Aptosis of a Supernova; Zombie au, my magnum opus that is still not written somehow. It has like one billion pages of plot in my brain. I can't possibly summarize it, but its mainly about Giovanni, Miko, and Damien, their struggles, and their relationships, and it cycles between their povs. Giovanni has to figure out how to reasonably survive as a pacifist in a zombie apocalypse, Miko learns to stop getting everyone collectively into danger, and Damien learns to let himself be around others and lean on people. Theres also a decent amount of content about Cynthia [Giovannis sister] and Alice [Mikos mom], and Lucifer, though he doesn't make an appearance until way later. Lots and lots of found family, people die, people murder, tragedy occurs, etc etc. Its a zombie apocalypse bad stuff happens. The first half of the story is about Miko/her moms traveling across the country to find her brothers who were shipped off to a military camp pre apocalypse, and they pick up Giovanni + his sisters along the way.

Im working on chapter 1 of it right now, and its almost done actually! Its super fun. I think Giovanni getting shot is the least eventful thing that happens in it.

- The third thing is just a fun lil Lucifer lore thing. I can't say a whole lot about it because its meant to be confidential [and alas the people who can't know about it also follow me][hi drrp] BUT its super fun to write. Lucifer in general is a fucking blast. Hes an asshole and a lunatic. I mean, being a daredevil is his entire shtick after all.

Im sure like none of this means anything to you because you have little to no idea who any of these characters are. but erm. I can also explain that too if anyone wants <3 I could go on for days about any of these guys really. But tysm for asking!!! <33

[titles-for-tangents]

I’m bringing this up because this seems to be the only article I’ve read so far that really addresses how much of human history we’d be losing. To quote:

“Musk himself acknowledges that Twitter is a public forum, and it’s this fact that makes the potential loss of the platform so significant. Twitter has become integral to civilization today. It’s a place where people document war crimes, discuss key issues, and break and report on news.

“It’s where the US raid that would result in Osama bin Laden’s death was first announced. It’s where people get updates on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. It’s where news of the downing of flight MH17, a Malaysia Airlines plane that was likely shot down by pro-Russia forces in Ukraine in 2014, first surfaced. It is a living, breathing historical document. And there’s real concern it could disappear soon.

“‘If Twitter was to “go in the morning”, let’s say, all of this—all of the first-hand evidence of atrocities or potential war crimes, and all of this potential evidence—would simply disappear,’ says Ciaran O’Connor, senior analyst at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD), a global think tank. Information gathered using OSINT (open-source intelligence) has been used to support prosecutions for war crimes, and acts as a record of events long after the human memory fades.”

The article notes how even the Library of Congress tried documenting stuff on Twitter for eight freaking years and simply had to stop in 2018 just due to the sheer deluge of information. Think about just how much has happened post-2017 in particular, post- the #Me Too movement. The #Black Lives Matter movement. How many crimes actively caused by the police that people captured on camera and help fuel #Defund the Police. How former President Trump would howl random insanities, instructions, and declarations in a complete breach of protocol both security and otherwise and Twitter was instrumental in deplatforming him, and not only did we get to have five minutes of peace for once, suddenly it opened up the conversation about how large social media sites can and should deplatform hate speech. Twitter is where we all noticed someone cracked into the CDC’s account in one of the first of many moments where the public’s trust in them began to wither and crumble during a pandemic. According to William Kilbride, executive director of the Digital Preservation Coalition, “There’s no indication that those formal records of government agencies have ever been archived, or indeed how they’d go about doing that.”

If you use Twitter for any reason, please find a way to back up your data now. The article goes on to say, “Many users have taken it upon themselves to independently back up their data, while the Internet Archive can be used to permanently store snapshots of Twitter’s webpages in a more reliable place than Twitter’s own servers. But both methods are not without their own issues: multimedia often isn’t stored alongside such methods of archiving tweets—something that would impact the vast numbers of accounts posting images and videos from Iran’s revolution, or documenting Russia’s invasion of Twitter—while accessing the information easily requires knowing the exact URL of any given tweet to access it. ‘You may have trouble finding that if it’s not already been preserved in some way somewhere else on the internet,’” says Eliot Higgins, whom the author notes as the “founder of open-source investigators Bellingcat, who helped bring the perpetrators of the downing of MH17 to justice.”

Storage already was a very real problem, and the recollection of that data is going to be far, far hairier if possible at all. I’m not on Twitter so I’m sure someone much more versed in legal and I.T. issues would be able to clarify if users will be able to get their data back. Don’t get me wrong: watching Elon Musk go bankrupt and his empire burn all around him has been and will continue to be cathartic as hell, especially over the class action lawsuits coming against him. But that will be just the first half of the parade before people try to get back their records of lost art, lost journalism, lost quotes, lost photography and films, lost records of how people have been faring during the pandemic across all walks of life. There’s a very real chance we’re not going to get those back. Yes, much of Twitter is full of brainrot. It’s also full of celebrities, artists, and organizations where their accounts can be as professional as they want it to be. Think about how many tweets you see copy-pasted to Tumblr and copy-pasted Tumblr posts get retweeted back to Twitter. Think about how Eli Lily just had to confront their horrible insulin prices this past week alone and how once again, the conversation turns to accountability and how life can simply be better than this dystopian, sick age we’re living in. This is arguably bigger than even the loss of Vine; I would say it’s a wee bit closer to the burning of the Library at Alexandria.

While there absolutely is worth in having community corkboards, the next social medial empire that will fall like Facebook is going to care even less about you and wipe out even more important moments in human history. Social media sites like Twitter are (again I need to use this word) instrumental as fuck for helping to instigate very real social change, even if they’re created for dumb and/or fun reasons and get quickly grandfathered into serious issues simply because they’ve been popular for so long they’ve just stuck around long enough to see them. Sites like Twitter have allowed people to get out the message out to vote and directly interact with politicians for better and worse. Sure, something will take its place, and Mastodon is already there to try to do just that. We should have healthy competition and no one should run a monopoly to encourage their status as billionaire (we shouldn’t have billionaires in the first place for that matter, but that’s a discussion for another day). The point is the fate of this closing era is going to be at the whims of a very particular twit this weekend, and the window of time to save what we can from the already burning pyre is rapidly closing.

I really, really don’t want to see Twitter to go up in flames. The best outcome for this would be to see all of its employees get much better-paying, unionized jobs and Elon Musk continues to peel and reveal himself for the insufferable jackass that he is.

[disneyreactor]

what-if: the muppets season 2

EPISODE 201--SIDELINED LOVE

When Kermit and Miss Piggy return from Thailand, they discover that the studio vandalized. Meanwhile, Scooter starts searching for a place of his own.

____

Kermit sits in his car, staring at the sterling wheel. "I'm up a little earlier this morning because I'm picking up Piggy to go for breakfast, and it's, uh, it's going to go well. I can feel it. But first, we're going to check out the studio and see how it's holding up." He stares at the cameraman in the passenger seat.

[the muppets theme card]

Miss Piggy sits in the passenger seat, fixing her hair to her signature style. "How's Robin?"

Kermit smiles at the thought of his nephew. "He's okay considering what happened."

"He's growing up too fast for me."

"Tell me about it," he stops at the redlight and takes the time to appreciate Piggy in her morning attire. "Has anyone told you that you look beautiful in the morning?"

Piggy smiles at the frog. "Other than you? Everyone."

He chuckles as he continues to drive on. "They have great taste then."

The pair sit in the car ride for another thirty minutes, give or take with the multiple redlights.

Piggy, then, looks in front of her and mutters, "Oh my God."

Kermit stares at the sight of the studio exterior vandalized with hate messages.

Cancel the pork!

Pigs belong at the farm, not on our screens!

CAMERA INTERVIEW:

"I thought people were past this sort of thing when I left Sesame Street," Kermit says with a sigh. The camera pans to Piggy reading the messages. "I know Piggy's strong, but exactly how much can a pig take?" He shakes his head. "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this."

END OF CAMERA INTERVIEW

Kermit's face contorts into an angry stance. "Let's check inside."

The two make their way inside to find the interior studio untouched.

"Boss, what happened? There's a lot of, uh, things outside." Chip, the I.T. guy asks, holding up his glasses.

"Angry ABC workers," Sam waltz in. "There's footage of the whole thing. I think it may have something to do with you two."

Kermit stares, dumbfounded. "As in, Piggy and myself?"

"Precisely."

Piggy looks around the studio. "I need coffee and time to think." She doesn't waste any time to head to the coffee station to do just that before heading to her dressing room.

***

Scooter sits at Color-Me-Mine with his computer in hand.

"Hey, Scooter," Susan, a fellow artist asks. "What're you up to?"

"Looking for a new apartment. I really can't take another day of Kevin's 'You're my sneaky-poo' to my mother. " Scooter replies.

The younger mother adores his mother. she's his best friend, but Kevin is one questionable...thing. He secretly thinks he's some alien from another galaxy. Don't tell him aliens don't exists--he hangs out with the Electric Mayhem too much.

A few minutes later, the camera turns to reveal Rizzo who runs to him with a stack of papers.

"Aye, yo, what's up?" Rizzo asks.

"Looking for a new apartment, why?" The gofer says.

"Well, you're in luck because I have some ideas." Rizzo slams the stack onto Scooter's computer.

Scooter eyes the stack. "The last time I took something from you, I was nearly arrested for fraud."

"...But it's different now, I promise and that's a Rat promise."

Scooter takes that into consideration.

CAMERA INTERVIEW:

"I know I shouldn't trust Rizzo, but he made a scout promise and those never get broken."

END OF CAMERA INTERVIEW

"Alright, I'll take a look at them."

***

Uncle Deadly sits on her recliner with his feet propped up as he holds a glass of margarita. "Piggy, dear, I cannot express how sorry I am for this unforgivable behavior from some scum- infested beings. "

Piggy turns to him with a sad smile. "Thanks, Deadly."

"What's the matter, deary?"

She shifts so she's now sitting up and leaning her head against the couch cushion behind her. "I just started to feel okay with the fact that I'm a pig, and now this happens. It's hard for women to make it this far on their own, but I did it; still, it's even harder if you're a woman and a pig."

"If they refuse to accept you for you, that's their issue. You are you, and that's enough for anyone who truly loves and respects you."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course, I am."

CAMERA INTERVIEW:

"It's a childish act to plaster hate on a building and call it art. I'll tell you what it's called, it's--" He starts to let out something colorful but is stopped. "Oh, I can't say that? How unfortunate."

END OF CAMERA INTERVIEW

"You know where to find me, love." Deadly says and bids his goodbye as he walks out the dressing room and Kermit walks in after him.

"You alright?" Kermit asks.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking about all the publicity." She sends him her signature smile.

"Sure."

***

Scooter looks inside an apartment, and it looks fairly decent for anyone living on their own for the first time. Rizzo walks behind him.

"What do you think?" Rizzo asks.

"It looks great and within my budget." Scooter says and explores the rest of the apartment.

"So, the landlord says you can move in as soon as you give the first month's rent and security deposit which runs you about $500." The rat explains.

"What's the monthly rent again?"

"$400 a month."

Scooter smiles and nods. "Let's do it."

[stickysad]

It’s April 8th, you would have turned twenty nine. I started a new job and I find myself talking about you. I haven't figured out how to navigate saying the words "she died" to strangers, so at the office building on Drummond Road you're still alive. I choose this weird lie over the inevitable feeling that I've said too much once it’s spoken aloud, like I've imposed a reminder that humanity can be bleak under the lunch room’s shitty fluorescent lighting. People don't like confronting life's devastations while wearing business casual. I know the societal rules of polite conversation enough to keep topics low stakes, like how expensive yogurt is these days or the morning traffic on the boulevard. Somehow, the I.T. guy’s shockingly bad political takes are fair play, but we steer clear of death and how it changes us. Despite knowing the etiquette of unfeeling small talk I can’t stop myself from bringing you up so…you're alive and well in this unsuspecting corner of Northeast Philly. America's purgatory of strip malls and industrial complexes if you’re unfamiliar. Look, it was the best I could do. Handle your own resurrection next time, kid. I'm moving soon and it will be yet another apartment you haven't stepped foot in. I’m running out of where to feel you, of people who knew you. The only place left is the house on Allentown and god knows you wouldn't go back there in the flesh let alone in spirit. God knows I don't. I still go into the restaurant to try to catch even a glimmer of you, but the employees have changed and the chairs are different and I heard they painted over our scribbles on the walls in the back. Instead, I stick to my cliches and pretend you're nature and lightning and every tchotchke of a carousel at the thrift store. I visit you through every phase of the moon. I stare up at the sky, slow blinks like I give to the cat, praying you get the message. Or I’ll whisper to you alone in my room and trick myself into believing any sensation in my body must be confirmation you can hear me. As if you respond as a tickle in my fingertips. I'm starting to grasp that missing you is endless, but in that way so is loving you. I'll forever love you, talk about you, think of you. Every day that I miss you makes you infinite. I’ll keep writing about you; heartbroken in run-on sentences. I won’t stop counting the carousels. I’ll take small comfort in that, that through me you still are. I guess that's all I can do, unless you change your mind on the resurrection thing - let me know.

Happy Birthday, little sister. 

[nosleepfoxtales]

I do i.t. for the supernatural. Today I met the off-brand three stooges.

"So, ah, what did you do once the slime had, um, given birth to you?"

I sighed. My therapist was doing her best with what I was giving her. It's hard when one person is thinking metaphorical and the other literal. 

"Well. I still had it's many children clinging to my jacket and slacks, so I shook myself off like a wet dog," I wasn't even sure this therapy was helping me. To her, I was just having some very fucked up dreams. 

I didn't lie to her. But when someone tells you they were eaten and birthed by a giant green cube, it's hard not to have a little doubt. 

"Hmm. And what did you feel then? Free? Unburdened?"

A snorted chuckle was all I could muster because to be honest, I felt PISSED. Less like the ham stuck in a poorly designed 1960's jello mold, but still pissed. Was it ham? What the hell were they putting in that jello, anyways? Who's idea was that? The original creeped me out, so I definitely didn't have any love for it's apparent descendant, cube mother. 

I held back the sigh this time, "Like I need to address my problems head on." 

and find that bastard Eli and get some answers, I added in my head. 

After our session, I went straight to Moe's, my favorite hookah bar. No relation to the simpsons, I assumed, as it was run by a jovial Indian man named Gaurov. I had been trying for two years to pronounce his name and was still butchering it, but he was always very nice about it. 

"Pi-pi!" his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, golden irisis filled with mirth. 

"You have to find a better nickname, Gau."

"Okay, I'll GO right now!" he laughed, a deep belly laugh and slid a red hookah from the counter beside him, "Pi-pi, this flavor is called Sex on the Beach. If you're not getting it, you can at least taste it."

I scowled at his grin, shaking one fist at him while using the other hand to snatch the hookah. 

"Who wants to fuck on the beach, man? Do you want sand in your nethers? I didn't think so," I plopped a guard on the tip of the pipe and took a good breath in, "Not bad, though."

"What I can do for you, miserable lady?"

"I need to talk to Eli. He's not picking up my calls and the last job he sent me to is going to be the most challenging case of my therapists career."

He laughed again. 

"Haven't seen him, milady. You've got some jello in your hair, did you know?" he picked a piece out of a shock of hair next to my ear, "Someone was hungry."

My face was going to get stuck in a scowl if I didn't stop, so I smiled at him, making some excuse, and we chatted for a bit about his grandkids and his various Nascar bets. 

"You know you're the only non-white trash person who watches Nascar, right?"

He pouted, shook his head in mock sadness.

"White people can't have nothing nowadays, can they?"

Once I left the bar, I intended to just keep calling Eli until he picked up, but not even 20 paces past, I was jerked off the street into an alley. I stamped my boot in a puddle and got mud all over my jeans.

"Dude!" I yelled, unceremoniously. 

"I'm not a dude." the voice was deep, harsh, bubbling, "And no one can hear you, so screaming is a waste of both of our time."

I gaped up at the man who was speaking. He was broad-shouldered, in a deep grey suit and shiny black shoes. His hair was nicely tucked against his head, an ebony matte, very sleek looking. 

I didn't say "You look like a dude to me," because one, well, I'm nonbinary so who am I to assume people's gender. 

But second and more importantly, the two figures beside him were definitely not human. Crouching back in the shadows, hunched over and poised with a restlessness that said they were ready to spring at a word, lackeys was the only word that could come to mind. A human man wouldn't have paranormal lackeys hanging on his every word.

They were both horrible, but in opposite directions. One was fat and unkempt, his clothes loose and his face stuck in a scowl.

See? I thought manically, It does get stuck that way.

The other was like a business slender man, far too tall and gangly, hunched over and seeming to lean on the wall for support. They both wore the same style of suit but it didn't fit either of them like it did the main guy, hanging loosely in some places and clinging tightly to non-human shapes in others. I couldn't make out either of their faces very well, besides noting the displeasure in both.

I had been alternating between gaping up at this guy and nervously sliding glances towards his henchmen for 30 seconds, so I cleared my throat and tugged my shirt down, Picard style.

"Uh, what can I do for you, big guy?"

"I am not a 'guy', either. You are a human," his voice was deadpan.

"uh, yes, i, um, am," my glance slid for the first time toward the street, which was odd for me since I'm always looking for an exit plan. I guess I was just flabbergasted by being accosted by Benny and the jets in broad daylight.    But a shimmery filter seemed to separate me from the street. Even the light in the bubble we were in seemed replicated, like warm fluorescent lighting. 

"You have been playing with a man named," he paused, seeming to think as my attention was snapped back to him, "Eli? Is it?"

He took a step towards me, and I hit the wall of the alley taking one back as well. 

"Uh, I'm not sure playing is the right word," I stammered, one hand flat against the wall behind me. The long skinny form behind him growled a low growl, seeming to vibrate. He shoved off the wall and began clambering towards me. 

Fuck. Of all the times to be unarmed. My therapist got nervous whenever I brought blades into the office, especially since the ones that I'd need for protection were pretty sizeable. Plus a lot of them had 'sacrificial' in the name, which she also wasn't a fan of.

I squeaked and leaned as far back against the wall as I could, but Boss man gave him a cold over-the-shoulder look and he stopped dead. He muttered miserly, before slowly returning to his awkward lean against the brick.

"He has been here too long," he sent a wistful glance to our left, into the main street where dozens of humans strode along the sidewalk carefree, "He needs to go home."

His glance flicked back to me and the entire power of his cobalt blue gaze hit me all at once. His eyes would have been attractive had he been human, but the light green ring around the outside of his pupil gave him away. Olive colored and sapping darkness from the deep blue iris, the ring constantly moved, shaking as it circled the pupil. As it was, it just made me feel like prey being played with by a predator. 

"You will refrain from contacting him or there will be consequences. Is that understood?"

He seemed like the kind of guy who was used to his questions being rhetorical, even the idea of refusing comical. It lit a small fire in me, chasing the cold of fear out for a moment. 

"Listen, not-dude and not-guy, I'm a contractor, okay? I go to who pays me. Keep your quabbles between you," my voice started strong but shrank bit by bit until I was almost whispering the last word.

The goonies behind him had seemed to swell half their size, and the light in the bubble slowly transitioned from the dull blue to a light glowing pink as he stared steadily down into my face. 

Feeling like a coward but not really caring because I, you know, like to live, I started sputtering.

"Look, there's a thousand other people on this block alone that can do what I do. Taking out ONE of his techs isn't going to get him to do what you want. Honestly, I'm not sure what will, he's the most stubborn dud- uh being I've ever met. If you're having issues, I know a great therapist," I finished weakly. 

"ENOUGH," Slender business man screamed loud enough for me to flinch and cover my ears like a kid at a concert. He slammed his fists into the wall to shove off and began rushing towards me, his clambering steps bouncing his small gangly head. 

I noticed a smell I hadn't before, which I wouldn't have recognized without Eli's interference. I mean, honestly, how many of you know what brimstone smells like? It really didn't give me much help for the current situation, but I filed it away for just in case I survived.

Before I could move a muscle, the man in front of me snapped his fingers and slender business man exploded. Like, full on, inside out, exploded. Pieces of him rained down as I stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the gory rain coming down around us. 

"Ah!" I flinched back as a piece landed on my arm and burned it's way down. I frantically wiped it on my pants, the true victim in all this, and suddenly I noticed why his stride was so imbalanced. 

In his wake, his footprints were imprinted into the cement. He appeared to be melting through the concrete with every step, the footprints cutting off right where he exploded. 

"Okay, bud," I started, "And I don't care if you're a bud or not. Either explode me or let me go because I promise you, you're not getting to Eli through me. He's not even picking up my calls."

"Hmm. This might be more troublesome than I first thought."

Beginning to deeply regret my haste, I backed towards the street, the frizz from the barrier pulling my hair to stand on end. 

His penetrating gaze bored into me, and as I placed a hand up to the barrier, I saw someone walk by, barely sparing a glance into the alley. But they did look, nonchalantly, and then back to the street. She couldn't see me, I realized, my heart dropping. I was truly alone with this malevolent being and who knows if they'd even leave my body? I was going to just vanish without a trace.

I turned back to see him, hands in pockets, striding towards me calmly, his jacket tails waving casually around his forearms. 

I searched my brain for what I could possibly say to him. I didn't even know what he was, let alone how to negotiate for my life from him. 

As I was debating my willingness to pray to the ether, he had come up just about chest to chest and I stared up at him, trying to puff myself up. Not sure why, he's not a bear. I guess it's human instinct to try to make yourself look big when cornered. 

"You should have listened, Woman."

He raised his hand and I closed my eyes, not wanting to catch sight of any of myself exploding around the alley. Before I could even squeak again, something soft banged against the back of my knees, causing my legs to buckle underneath me. A flash of silver popped up in front of me, topped by a familiar growth of onyx curls.

I let out a short shriek as I landed on my ass, moaning and rubbing my hip. 

"She's not a woman, she's a non-binary," Nathan explained simply. 

I swore and, ignoring my swollen hip, snatched him backwards. 

"Nathan," I hissed, "get the fuck out of here. What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're not supposed to say 'Fuck'," he said. 

"You're not supposed to say fuck, Nathan. I say fuck because I have very good reasons. Now-"

"How come you're not calling me squirt anymore?" he asked, sulking. 

My emotions could not have been more upheaved at this moment. Nathan is Eli's nephew, whom I had been tasked with babysitting not long ago. With how obsessed this guy was with Eli, this was the absolute worst place for Nathan to be. My resignation at being taken out by an anime character was quickly replaced with a fresh batch of fear. 

"Squirt, please, blink back home and I'll come visit you, soon, okay?" I was pleading with him, clutching him by his slender shoulders. My shaking voice was not going to be able to summon the mom voice by the time this kid was a splat against the concrete. 

"Olgir?"

Nathan did a 180, gazing up at mr. scary eyes and squealing with glee. 

"Uncle Sloane!"

I groaned loud enough for people outside the bubble to hear, and the man mirrored me to my surprise. 

"You've gotta be kidding me." I moaned.

"How do you know my nephew?" Sloane asked, then dipped his head, "Ah, obviously. My brother put you together."

"Brother?" I squeaked, furious, "You were going to kill me so your brother would come home for a freaking visit?"

He lifted his chin, looking down his nose at me. 

"I wasn't going to kill you, stupid human. I was just going to put you in another universe where you wouldn't be in my way," he sniffed and adjusted his jacket, pulling down his sleeves. 

I was incredulous.

"Oh, okay, well that's fine then," I said bitterly, and somewhat shockily. 

"Uncle Sloane, that's mean," Nathan frowned up at him, "Auntie Piper is my friend."

"Oh, Auntie Piper is it?" he asked, bemused, his enourmous hands shoved back in his pockets. 

"Where is Uncle Eli, Olgir?" Sloane asked, particular poison in the words Uncle Eli. 

"Uncle Sloan," Nathan elongated his name, emphasizing it, "Up here, you call me Nathan. 'You can call me Nathan', right, Auntie Piper?" 

He was beaming at me but I could only stare at him in a stupor, alternating my gaze between him and Sloane. 

"Is there anyone in this family not trying to kill me? Just curious," I pushed myself up, brushing the stray pebbles from my pants, before heaving a huge sigh and placing my hands on my hips. I was out of emotion, I had wrung myself dry between being snatched by Senpai here and thinking, for the second time this month, that I was about to watch this kid die. 

Sloane scoffed.

"My brother would never let a woman die under his care."

"She's not a woman, she's a-"

"I don't care about your petty human politics," he spat, his former ruthlessness bleeding through, "and neither does my brother. He's tolerating it because you're of use to him. Don't let your tiny human mind become confused into thinking he cares for you."

"Okay, Jordan Peterson," I replied, chuckling at his confused expression. Now that he was scowling, I definitely saw the resemblance to Eli.

"How many times must I remind you, I am not a dude, and I am not a guy, and I am not a Jordan Peterson."

"Okay, Sloane, first off, I was never under the delusion that he 'cares for me'," I bunny quoted with my hands even though I doubted he knew that particular piece of human culture, "I've still got fucking sentient jello in my hair."

He cocked his head, clearly still confused, and I decided tutoring whatever he was in the human world was beyond my abilities at that moment.

"And second of all, I'm just hired help, okay? I'm not the one keeping him here, and away from," I gestured wildly, "wherever it is you're from. You need to talk to him, not me."

"Hmm." he said in a sound of dismissal. 

"Come, Olg-," he sighed in disgust, "Come, Nathan. Let's go see if we can find Uncle, hmm?"

Nathan gave me a friendly wave and skipped off, hand in hand with my would be executioner. Or...travel agent, I guess? I peeked around them and saw the fatter of the lackeys melting into mist, leaving a pile of soggy clothes to rot in the alleyway.

Frazzled but out of energy to think about it, I watched them stroll away before returning to Moe's and checking my phone. Six missed calls from Eli. 

"You better be dead," read a text from him. 

Oh, don't you worry, Eli, I thought, this was a call I couldn't wait to return. 

[secretpajamas]

Partners

a Steve x Javi fic

pairing: javier peña x steve murphy (narcos)

genre: modern AU, coworkers-to-lovers, smut, comedy, undercover-as-a-couple

rating: explicit (smut ahoy). if you would like to know specific content tags before reading, scroll to the end.

note: this is a modern-day AU set in southern california featuring a made-up drug cartel (The SoCal Seven). been working on this forever and finally managed to finish it!

words: 11.2k

also on AO3

–

The first time Steve saw Javi kiss a man, he was absolutely gobsmacked.

Sure, he’d seen him kiss female informants before—and overheard him do far more when he was wearing a wire. Hell, the whole office knew he slept with hookers for information. But always women. At least, Steve assumed they were always women.

But from the way Javi kissed this guy, it sure as hell didn’t seem like his first time doing it.

The informant slipped a piece of paper in Javi’s pocket before pulling away from the kiss. Javi gave the guy’s ass a firm squeeze in appreciation before the mystery man slipped back in to the dive-bar-slash-brothel-slash-drug-distribution-center—one that was on the SoCal Seven’s payroll.

Steve startled when Javi turned around to face the jeep. He felt like he had just been caught staring—but Steve’s job was to be the damn lookout in this operation, so he was supposed to be watching. Steve made the pointed decision to stare at the steering wheel until he heard Javi rap at the window.

“Got it,” Javi said with a grin, flashing the scrap of paper.

–

Back on the road, Steve sat stock-still behind the wheel.

“Awfully quiet there, Murphy,” Javi remarked, drinking a beer that had been rolling around in the backseat for god knows how long.

“Who’s quiet? I’m not quiet. Shut up, Javi,” Steve spluttered.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with me kissing a man back there, would it?” Javi said.

“Well, I just—you’ve never—” Steve coughed. “Done that before.”

“You know full well I’ve done more than kiss informants, Murphy.”

“Not male ones,” Steve said.

“Ahhh, I see,” Javi replied, “remind me what century it is again? The 21st? Pretty sure I can suck a dick if I want.”

Steve reeled, swinging his head to stare wide-eyed at his partner. Oh fuck, partner, that was a gay word, right?

“Hey, watch the fucking road!” Javi barked, snapping Steve back to attention. Steve got back in his lane as the SUV behind him honked loudly.

“You sucked his dick?” Steve practically squeaked.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Javi sucking a—

“No,” Javi said with a shrug, “just a lot of necking and hurried hand jobs. He only gets a thirty-minute break, so we gotta make it quick.”

“Your blowjobs take over thirty minutes?” Steve teased—or at least tried to get the teasing tone back in his voice. Tried to get back to two partners—uh, coworkers—giving each other shit. “Don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.”

Javi chuckled. “I elevate it to an art form,” he teased back.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Things were back to normal.

–

Things were not back to normal.

Not for Steve, anyway.

He couldn’t help but notice things about Javi he’d never noticed before. Sure, Steve had seen Javi covertly check out their boss’s ass before, but she was a woman with a propensity to wear too-tight pencil skirts. He wasn’t expecting it when their I.T. guy Andrew bent over to pick up a pen he’d dropped. Steve saw Javi stop to take a good long look before going back to his paperwork.

Steve gulped, and had the absurd thought that it was a shame his own ass wasn’t much to look at. Then he scrunched up his eyebrows—why the fuck did he care what Javi thought of his ass? God, he needed to get laid. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Connie, and they divorced a year ago. If her Instagram account was anything to go off of, she was having a great time being single in Miami. Maybe Steve needed to try the Tinder thing. That’s what people did these days, right?

“Murphy!”

Steve jolted—he hadn’t noticed Javi hovering over his side of their shared desk.

Javi quirked an eyebrow. “I asked you a question.”

“Um, yeah, could you repeat that?” Steve asked.

“Are you up to scope out this place with me tonight?” Javi flashed that fateful piece of paper in his face again. Steve snatched it out of his hands—on it was “JACK’S PALACE” in a messy scrawl with an address underneath.

Steve didn’t recognize it. “This is?”

“Another one of the Seven’s distribution centers,” Javi said, shifting his weight to stand with his hand against his hip. Steve tried not to notice how nicely his jeans clung to him. “My C.I. says they’re getting a shipment tonight. It’s a club—not high class, but not a dive bar, either.”

“Fits their M.O.,” Steve said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “When does it open? It’ll take at least an hour and a half to get there in traffic.”

“Nine,” he said. “I’ll drive. I know how bad your road rage gets.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Javi moved to sit back down at his side of the desk.

“Oh, and Steve?” Javi piped up, his head peeking out from the side of his desktop computer.

“Yeah?”

“It’s a gay nightclub,” Javi said. “Don’t freak out if you see men kissing again.”

“I don’t—it’s fine if—people kiss,” Steve stuttered. “Totally fine.”

Javi snorted. “Alright, buddy,” he said, “just making sure.”

Steve was so fucked.

–

am I gay quiz

what does it mean when ur gay but u also like girls

guys who fuck men and women

list of porn genres alphabetical

BISEXUAL

“Who’re you texting?” Javi asked.

Steve flinched and dropped his phone on his lap. “Nobody!” He yelped before stuffing his phone in his pocket. “I just forgot the word for something.”

Javi folded his arms across his chest. “You’re telling me you’ve been hunched over your phone and passionately googling?”

“Uh,” Steve said, “yes?”

“Whatever you say, Murphy,” Javi tutted, “but you don’t usually turn five shades of red when you’re doing research.”

Steve leaned back in the passenger seat with a sigh. No getting out of this one—might as well redirect. “Connie,” he lied, “I was—I was gonna text Connie. Decided against it.”

“Good,” Javi said, “don’t poke that hornet’s nest. Years ago I drunk-dialed my high school sweetheart, it didn’t go well.”

“The one you left at the altar?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Was it because you’re...” Shut up, Steve, you moron, stop running your mouth— “bi... sexual?”

Javi looked at Steve wide-eyed for a moment before throwing his head back and howling with laughter.

Steve put his hands up. “Or maybe you’re not! Maybe it’s a gay-for-information thing! I mean, I dunno if I could do it, but—”

Javi finally caught his breath. “Calm down, Murph,” he said, still suppressing laughter, “yes, I like men. And I like women. Has nothing to do with why I chickened out on my wedding day—that’s my fear of commitment.  According to the department shrink, anyway.”

Javi shrugged before continuing. “Didn’t even start fooling around with guys until my 20’s. Grew up in a kinda small town—moving to the city meant a little more freedom in the romance department. Because back home, everyone knew everyone else.”

“West Virginia was a bit like that,” Steve said. “Everyone knew everyone else’s business. But we didn’t really mention it.”

“Imagine there’s not a lot of gays in hillbilly country,” Javi teased.

Steve shrugged. “I mean, we all knew Rita down the road was a lesbian, but we never talked about it. Wasn’t as interesting as... everything else.”

“Well, don’t stop there,” Javi said, “everything else?”

“She was crazy. She’d shoot squirrels and hang their skulls up on her fence like trophies...” Steve illustrated with some crude gestures. Javi curled up his nose.

“Anyway, it was a sad day when her lady left her,” Steve continued, “not because we felt bad for Rita—Anne made the fuckin’ tastiest rhubarb pie you ever had, and we all mourned that loss.”

Javi nodded. “There’s something otherworldly about lesbian baked goods. Ever had Sophia’s lady fingers?”

Steve nearly choked on his own spit. “Her what?”

“Lady fingers. Y’know, the little sponge cake things.”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I meant? That Sophia, our very lesbian coworker, stuck her fingers up my—”

“Javi!” Steve squirmed. “Stop.”

Javi chuckled. “Never took you for the blushing virgin type, Murphy.”

“I am far from a virgin,” Steve shot back.

“Bet your asshole is as pure as the driven snow.”

“My—” Steve coughed. “My asshole is not up for discussion,” he said, voice cracking.

“You were the one who brought up assholes in the first place.”

“Actually, you were.”

“You inferred it.”

Steve opened his mouth, about to fire back, when a movement in the alley caught his eye. He slapped Javi on the shoulder and gestured with his head.

Javi pulled out his binoculars and held them up to his face. “Shit. That’s Garcia.”

Javi handed the binoculars to Steve.

“It sure looks like him,” Steve said. It was dark out, but the back entrance to the club was lit well enough to see.

“We should call Messina,” Javi said. “This is higher profile than I expected.”

“Garcia never does on-the-ground shit like this,” Steve said. “And where’s the coke, anyway?”

Tommy Garcia wasn’t one of the titular Seven, but he kept the operation running like a well-oiled machine. He scheduled all the deliveries to distribution centers in three different counties, coordinated with dealers and made sure they coughed up their share of profits, and often dealt directly with the cartel in Mexico.

What was he doing at a rundown club—empty-handed, no less?

Steve watched as Garcia pulled a flip-phone out of his pocket and typed out something.

Steve squinted. “Looks like he’s sending a text. Burner phone?”

“Gimme those,” Javi said, grabbing the binoculars.

While Javi stared out of the binoculars, Steve pulled out his work phone and dialed their boss.

She picked up on the third ring. “This is Messina.”

“We’ve got eyes on Garcia,” Steve said.

“Garcia? Tommy Garcia?”

“In the flesh. You want us to arrest him?”

“Everything we have on him is circumstantial or hearsay,” Messina said. “Not admissible in court.”

Steve groaned. “But we know he’s Delgado’s right-hand man. If we get him to flip—”

“He’d hang himself in his cell before we got anything out of him,” Messina continued. “Listen, Murphy. Where are you?”

Steve paused. “At a club.”

“A club?”

“A... gay club,” Steve hiccuped.

Javi grabbed Steve’s phone from him without even looking away from their target. “Messina, I’m not sure he’s here on business. He’s playing tonsil hockey with some twink.”

Steve jolted. “Someone’s with him?”

Javi passed the binoculars to Steve. Steve took a look at Tommy Garcia passionately making out in the doorway with what he could only assume was an employee of the club. He felt his face flush at the display.

“Yes, boss. Got it.” Javi ended the call before handing Steve’s phone back to him. “Messina wants us to go in once the club opens, keep an eye on him. He might be here on business, we don’t know.”

“Are you sure?” Steve said, incredulous, watching as Tommy Garcia trailed kisses along his lover’s jaw.

“My C.I. is trustworthy,” Javi replied. “If he says this place is a distribution center, I believe him.”

Steve watched as Garcia and his mystery man ducked into the club. “We’re not going to know what they’re up to until this joint opens...” Steve checked the time on his phone. “It’s eight-thirty.”

“Well, we’ve got another half hour to spend in this car,” Javi said. “Not long enough for one of my famous blowjobs, unfortunately. ”

Steve snapped his head towards Javi, his heart beating in his throat. “Umm, ah—”

Javi patted Steve on the shoulder. “Relax, Murphy. It’s a joke.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t have enough room to maneuver in here, anyway.”

The backseat is bigger, Steve almost said, and immediately felt his face grow even hotter.

“Um, I need some air,” Steve said, rolling down his window.

“Hey, as long as the window’s open, you mind if I smoke?” Javi reached across him and opened the glove compartment, grabbing a lighter and a half-empty box of cigarettes.

“Open your window if you’re going to smoke,” Steve said.

“Alright, alright,” Javi replied, opening his window a crack.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were trying to quit.”

“I am,” Javi mumbled around the cigarette as he lit it. “Down to three a day.”

Steve gulped as he watched Javi manipulate the cigarette with his mouth. He took a long drag before blowing it out the window. Smoke curled out of his nose and mouth and Jesus Christ, Steve should not be turned on by his partner smoking.

Javi flicked some ash out the window before raising an eyebrow at Steve. “I thought you quit,” he said with a smirk.

Why was Javi asking—oh. Steve was ogling at Javi’s mouth while he smoked—Javi must think he was jonesing for nicotine. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I did,” he said. “Mostly.”

Javi’s smirk turned into crooked grin as he passed Steve his cigarette.

Which has just been on his mouth.

“Um,” Steve started.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re a germophobe,” Javi chuckled. “You don’t even wash your hands after you piss.”

“Shut up,” Steve said before taking a drag. He tried not to cough as Javi watched him intently from the driver’s seat.

–

As Steve and Javi passed the cigarette back and forth like some kind of dirty little secret, patrons of the club began to trickle in. The mystery man from earlier was collecting cover charges at the back door alongside a big, burly bouncer. Steve could hear the dull thump of music begin to emanate from the building.

When the parking lot was half-full, Javi stumped out his cigarette in an empty soda cup from the backseat.

“You go in first. Go around to the front door. I’ll check the perimeter and then come in through the back entrance,” Javi said. “You got cash? I think they’re cash only.”

“Yes, Javi, I have cash.”

“Sidearm?”

“When have I ever left my sidearm?”

“First day in the field, you—”

“Oh, will you let that go?”

“Never.” Javi flashed Steve a shit-eating grin and slapped him on the back. “Go get’em, tiger.”

Steve high-tailed it out of the car.

–

Steve had no trouble getting through the door. He payed the cover charge, walked right in, and nobody batted an eye.

In fact, as he moved further into the joint, none of the bar’s patrons gave him a second glance. He glanced down at himself—comfortable jeans, worn-out shoes, a black t-shirt long enough to cover the concealed carry holster at the back of his waistband...

He looked like every other straight man in existence.

Great.

Nervously, he puttered over to the bar, taking a seat at the far end. He scanned the entire place for Garcia but failed to spot him. He noted a hallway that he assumed led to the back door of the club.

“What do you want, honey?”

Steve snapped to attention as the bartender addressed him. The man was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top with “JACK’S PALACE” printed on it in glittery letters, his abundant chest hair peeking out over the top.

“Um, uh, yeah. Can I get, uhhhh...” Steve scanned the various neon signs and liquor bottles that decorated the back wall of the bar. There was a door next to the shelves marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY.” Steve wondered if that was where Garcia was holed up.

The bartender cleared his throat. Steve sat up straighter and took a look at the beer selection. He didn’t really want anything that was on tap, but he did see one of his old standby beer brands in the mini-fridge of bottles. “I’ll have a Corona.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender replied, procuring a bottle and popping off the top. He slid it over to Steve who anxiously grabbed it and took a big gulp.

“Put that on my tab, Antonio,” a man said from behind him.

The bartender just laughed. “You haven’t even asked him, Mikey.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man—Mikey—cleared his throat and sat next to Steve. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, petting Steve’s forearm.

Steve’s heart was beating in his throat. “Um, I, uh—thanks—but I’m—um—”

Mikey gave Steve’s arm a squeeze. Steve tried not to flinch.

“What’s the matter?” Mikey said, looking Steve up and down. “This your first time?”

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder then. A different hand. He panicked for a moment before noticing the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and aftershave. The hand wandered down, affectionately rubbing his chest. Mikey’s hand immediately vacated his arm.

“This man bothering you, baby?” Javi cooed, leaning into Steve’s ear.

“Sorry,” Mikey said, “Didn’t know you were taken. You were sittin’ alone at the bar and all—”

“I was just, uh, waiting for him to show up,” Steve said.

Mikey raised an eyebrow, eyeing the two of them with scrutiny. Javi spun Steve’s barstool around and lifted him up by the elbow. “Come dance with me,” he said, the deep rumble of his voice making Steve’s stomach flip.

Steve let Javi lead him to the dance floor, walking through the club to find an open space. There was a small crowd of people dancing—mostly men (one wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a leather harness and a pair of lime green booty shorts—Steve gulped), but he noted two women with vibrantly dyed hair and sinfully short dresses.

“Stop looking like a lost puppy,” Javi said. “You nearly had us made back there.”

“Sorry,” Steve said. “Just... getting a lay of the land.”

“There’s an employee room across from the bathrooms in the back hallway,” Javi said, close to Steve’s ear.

“There’s one behind the bar, too,” Steve said, doing his best to be heard over the music.

“Let’s wait and see if he shows,” Javi said. “Now dance with me. Make it convincing.”

Javi put his hands on Steve’s hips then, and Steve felt his heart pound against his chest.

He wasn’t sure how to respond. Steve looked at how the other patrons were dancing—some close together, some just jumping up and down, others practically dry humping. Steve hesitantly placed his hands on Javi’s shoulders seconds before Javi slipped his knee between Steve’s thighs and ground his hips in a circle. Steve’s mouth went dry.

“Fucking go with it,” Javi hissed into Steve’s ear as he gyrated his hips again. This time, Steve tentatively gave his hips a pathetic little swivel of their own. Javi rolled his eyes and gripped Steve tightly by the belt loops. He crashed their bodies together, leaving absolutely no space between them.

Javi pulled Steve down by the neck, and for one breathless second, Steve was sure Javi was going to kiss him. Instead, he growled in his ear. “Don’t blow our cover over your fear of dick,” he snarled.

Steve frowned. Out of pure spite, he hoisted one of Javi’s legs up by the thigh and obnoxiously ground his crotch into Javi’s. Javi startled for a moment, eyes wide, but soon relaxed into his usual no-nonsense expression, business as usual.

“Was that so hard?” Javi huffed as the two of them moved to the music.

“I’m not the one who’s hard right now,” Steve quipped, nudging against the bulge in Javi’s jeans.

“That’s my phone, you moron,” Javi bit back before grabbing Steve’s hip and rocking them to the rhythm. Javi’s thigh was brushing dangerously close to Steve’s dick, which was not getting the message that this was Javi, not the hot chick with the purple hair across them on the dance floor. Steve focused his gaze on her, watching her tits bounce and her hips shake, and tried desperately to ignore the heat radiating off of his partner—the breath on his neck, the hands skirting up and down his sides, the touches leaving scorch marks in their wake.

Fuck.

The fast, thumping music ended, starting to taper into something slower, something sweeter. Javi set a more languid pace, moving his hands to a more traditional dance position—one hand on Steve’s shoulder, the other holding his left hand. Instinctually, Steve moved his right hand to the middle of Javi’s back, leading him in a simple two-step sway.

A strange fluttering took hold in Steve’s stomach as he slow-danced with Javi—not unlike the butterflies he got when he first asked Connie to dance at that dive bar in Miami. He tried to shake it off—it was the familiarity of the dance, the proximity to another human body, it’d been too long, it was not about wanting Javi, not at all, not his stupid mustached face—

Suddenly, Javi tensed. “Murphy,” he hissed.

Steve frowned. “What?”

“Garcia at your six,” Javi said in his ear. Steve started to turn his head and was promptly greeted with Javi’s hand jerking it back forward. “Don’t look at him! Jesus.”

Javi proceeded to play the gesture off as sensual, running his palm down Steve’s cheek to his neck, still continuing this couples’ charade. Steve tried not to shiver.

“You’re sure it’s him?” Steve asked, barely loud enough to hear over the music.

“Damn sure,” he said. “Fuck, he just—”

It took all of Steve’s concentration not to look back.

“He’s going to the back room with that guy from before,” Javi said.

“We gotta follow him,” Steve replied.

“He could be armed. This place is full of civilians.”

“We’re armed,” Steve said, “We have him outnumbered.”

“Not if his contact is armed too,” Javi said through gritted teeth.

“Loverboy? I doubt it.” Seeing that Javi was unconvinced, Steve continued. “This is our biggest chance at new intel in months, Javi. Let’s fucking go before we miss it.”

Javi bit his lip before nodding. “Fuck it.”

Javi let go of Steve and grabbed his hand instead. Steve followed quickly behind.

To anyone else on the dance floor, it probably looked like a couple that wanted to get away to someplace more private. The back hallway was just about as good as any. Steve wondered for a moment if they would run into any other happy couples hooking up near the toilets and if that would blow their cover, but luck was on their side tonight—nobody in the hallway, just the door reading “EMPLOYEES ONLY” open ajar and muffled voices arguing inside.

Javi let go of Steve’s hand and pressed up against the hallway wall. He brought his finger up to his lips—shh—and motioned for Steve to stand next to him. The thumping of the music was slightly less overpowering in the hallway, and he could just make out the words being said. Or, rather—yelled.

Garcia’s voice came first. “Quit your bullshit, Carlos!”

“Baby, please,” the other voice—Steve assumed this was loverboy from earlier. “Lo siento! It means nothing, I swear!”

“You fucking another man is supposed to mean nothing?!”

“But I don’t love him! I love you!”

“You love my coke,” Garcia spat.

“No, no—”

“I’m leaving,” Garcia snarled. “And you can kiss the distribution deal goodbye. I’m taking it to the Cobra.”

“You’ll be back.”

“Don’t count on it,” Garcia said. “Pinche pendejo.”

“Don’t walk away from me!”

Steve heard stomping footsteps approaching.

“We gotta get out of here,” Steve whispered harshly.

“No time,” Javi bit out before grabbing Steve by the shoulders and pressing him against the wall.

“The fuck are you—”

“Shut up.”

Then, without warning, Javi’s mouth latched onto Steve’s neck and sucked. Steve gasped and clutched onto Javi’s shoulders—whether to push him away or pull him closer, he didn’t know.

At the same time, the door to the employee room swung open. Tommy Garcia stormed out, making a beeline for the exit. He didn’t give Steve and Javi a second glance. Carlos followed soon behind him, chasing his lover and crying a never-ending string of apologies.

As soon as they both exited the club, Javi pulled away from Steve’s neck.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve gasped.

“Sorry,” Javi said, “but the least suspicious thing in a gay club is two guys hooking up in the back hallway.”

Steve tried to catch his breath. “Well, it sure worked like a charm.” He rubbed his neck where Javi had bit him. “If I have a hickey tomorrow, you’re explaining that to Messina.”

Javi snorted. “Oh, I am? Just tell the office you got laid.”

“On the night we cased a gay bar?”

“Hey, there are girls here.” Javi gestured with his head toward the two women in the club. They were currently dancing in a manner that could not in any way be described as platonic.

“Pretty sure they’re not batting for our team,” Steve quipped.

Javi rolled his eyes. “Baseball metaphors. How original.”

“Alright, Javi, shut up. We’ve got our intel. The Cobra, whatever the fuck that means. Now we just get out of here and report back to the boss. Alright? And I still gotta pay for that beer—”

Steve tried to move out from under Javi, but Javi’s thigh was still shoved between Steve’s legs and his arms still bracketed him against the wall. The movement made his thigh brush against something hard in Javi’s pants—definitely not his phone. Steve held his breath.

Javi’s eyes widened, and Steve could have sworn Javi was blushing. He swiftly removed himself from Steve’s embrace, putting his hands in his pockets and looking away.

Steve crossed his arms. “I’m gonna, uh,” Steve started, “the beer. Pay. For the...”

Before he could make a complete ass of himself, Steve turned and hustled out of the hallway, snaking through the throng of dancers and heading to the bar.

He grabbed the first bill he found in his pocket, a ten, and slapped it on the counter. “Keep the change,” he said before continuing his path through the club to the front door. He then remembered they were parked in back, and turned around, awkwardly shuffling through the crowd again before returning to Javi in the back hallway.

Javi was holding back a laugh. “We’re parked out back, dear,” he said.

“Shut up,” Steve mumbled.

–

As soon as they got back in the car, Steve pulled out his work phone and dialed Messina. Before Steve could hold it up to his ear, Javi reached over to set it to speaker mode and stuck it in the cupholder.

After a few rings, Messina picked up. “Please tell me you have something good.”

“Garcia is going to the fucking Cobra,” Javi said. “That’s his next move.”

“The Cobra?” Messina sounded incredulous. “He specifically said Cobra?”

“Uh, yes, boss,” Steve said.

“Really,” Messina said. “Haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“He doesn’t work for the Seven,” Steve said, “unless I missed that memo.”

“He used to,” Javi said, “two years ago, before you came to LA.”

“He was a dealer,” Messina explained, “Got shot during a raid but still somehow managed to crawl away. Never saw him again.”

“Guess he’s back from the dead,” Javi grumbled. “Anyway, that’s all we’ve got, boss.”

“Thanks, you two. See you in the office tomorrow.”

Steve ended the call and turned to Javi. “You never told me about this Cobra guy.”

“Thought I didn’t have to,” Javi shrugged. “He got shot. He ran. He never showed up at any hospitals nearby. We all just assumed he was a goner.”

“Well, I imagine you can hire just about anybody with drug money,” Steve said. “Including trauma surgeons.”

“Or he just got damn lucky,” Javi mumbled, “and it missed his vital organs.”

“Maybe.” Steve rubbed at his neck, wincing when he touched the mark Javi left there.

Javi turned. “You want a bandaid for that?” He asked, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Just shut up and drive, Javi,” Steve grumbled.

–

The next day, Steve wore a blue dress shirt buttoned all the way up to the top button. The collar was just high enough to hide the mark Javi left last night—as long as he didn’t move his neck too much.

“Looking rather formal today, Murphy,” Javi quipped from his desk. “What’s the occasion?”

Steve glared. Did Javi just wink at him?

Before Steve could formulate a response, Messina poked her head in.

“Agent Murphy, Agent Peña,” she said. “My office, please.”

–

“The Cobra is dead,” Messina said.

“But I heard him say Cobra,” Javi said. “We both did.”

Steve nodded his agreement. Messina pushed on.

“Apparently, after he escaped from the raid, he assumed a new identity in Reno,” she said, “but was promptly taken out by the established dealers in Nevada.”

“Oh,” Steve said.

Javi suddenly sat straight up in his chair. “Wait,” Javi said. “Oh, fuck. Wait.”

“Care to share with the class, Agent Peña?”

“We’re thinking of the wrong Cobra,” he said. “The Cobra is a gay club in San Diego. Garcia’s just taking his coke distribution from one club to another.”

“That... certainly makes a great deal more sense,” Messina said.

“Let me talk to my C.I.,” Javi said. “He’s connected with the club scene. Might know something.”

“Good. That seems to be it for today. In the meantime, please try to catch up on your paperwork,” Messina said. “You too, Murphy. You have three months’ worth of backlog.”

“Yes, boss,” Steve said.

“Yes, boss,” Javi echoed, already out of his chair and heading to the door.

–

Paperwork usually put Steve to sleep, the delirious tedium of it all driving him to new depths of boredom.

Today, however, he was completely on edge.

He couldn’t stop sneaking looks at Javi from across the desk. Watched as he typed, his adept fingers gliding along his keyboard. Watched him pop a Nicorette into his mouth and chew on it slowly. Watched as he stretched his arms over his shoulders and hearing the crack of his joints—and the little moan of relief that ensued. Steve swallowed thickly, sticking his hand in his pocket and covertly adjusting himself.

Why the fuck was he getting hard? This had to just be some cosmic hiccup, some random no-reason-boner, like the ones he used to get in high school. There was no way this was Javi turning him on. He was at work, for crying out loud.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Javi stood up.

“I’m going to get coffee from the break room,” he said. “Need anything?”

“Uh,” Steve started, his voice breaking a little, “can you grab me a water?”

“Sure thing, Murphy,” Javi said, patting Steve on the shoulder. The contact made Steve practically jump out of his skin.

Javi raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yup!” Steve said, almost too loudly. “Totally fine.”

Javi just rolled his eyes and walked towards the break room.

Steve stared at his partner as he walked—the tight jeans that Javi wore worked magic on that otherwise tiny ass of his. As Javi disappeared into the break room, Steve wondered what his ass would look like without those jeans... with nothing on at all.

Steve groaned and ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. What the hell was happening to him?

After a minute, Javi came back into view, holding a cold water bottle from the fridge and a mug of coffee. He handed the bottle to Steve, their fingers brushing in the process. Steve shivered. Javi noticed, quirking his eyebrow again.

“It’s not that cold,” Javi said.

“Thanks, Javi,” Steve said in a rush before uncapping the bottle and chugging.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Javi remarked before sitting down and sipping his coffee.

Steve put down the bottle and swallowed. You have no fucking idea.

–

By the time Steve had made a decent dent in his paperwork, the sun was beginning to set. Javi had left to “get some fresh air,” his code for taking an illicit smoke break. Steve’s ill-timed boner had subsided by now, thank God, but he was still itching to drive home and get as far away from Javier Peña as possible before he did something atrociously stupid.

Unfortunately, Javi was not in his usual smoke spot out front, but sitting on the ledge of the brick planter in the parking lot. He sat directly between Steve and his car.

Shit.

“Hey, Murphy,” Javi said around his cigarette. He patted the spot next to him. Steve reluctantly sat down.

“So, I’m thinking I’ll talk to my C.I. on Monday, and we can case the Cobra sometime during the week,” Javi mused, twirling his cigarette.

“Another gay club,” Steve said with a little nervous laugh. “Who knew?”

Javi shrugged. “There’s more money to be made at the Cobra. It’s a much more popular club, and coke tends to be the drug of choice there. Well, that and poppers. And MDMA. And acid.” Javi chuckled. “But definitely coke.”

“A-as long as we don’t have to go undercover again,” Steve joked. “I’m not a good dancer.”

“I think you did fine, Murphy,” Javi chuckled, affectionately resting a hand on Steve’s knee, the contact running through him like an electric shock. Steve pulled his leg away, embarrassed at his body’s reaction.

“What’s wrong with you today, Murphy?” Javi looked at Steve, puzzled for a moment before some sort of recognition sparked in his eyes and his expression hardened. “Right, I forgot. You know I’m a faggot now.”

Steve’s stomach sank. “No, no, Javi, that’s not—”

“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious,” he spat, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe before storming off.

“Javi!” Steve called after him. “Jesus, man, I—”

“Save it,” he called over his shoulder as he headed to his car.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”

–

Steve stumbled through the door of his apartment, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning the suffocating top buttons of his shirt.

He fucked up. He fucked everything up.

After shuffling to the kitchen, he opened the fridge and stared at its contents. He sighed at the sight of only one beer bottle left of the six-pack he bought earlier that week. It would have to do. If he got truly desperate, he could break out the shitty tequila that Colleen had gifted him at the office Secret Santa.

As he wallowed on the couch and nursed his beer, his fingers itched for his phone. He needed to text Javi an apology.

Steve sighed. An apology text? Stop being a pussy.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and hovering his thumb over Javi’s number in his speed dial list.

He bit his lip and called someone else instead.

–

“What is it, Steve?”

“Hey, Conn,” Steve said, his voice exhausted.

Connie’s voice turned worried. “Shit, are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Nothing like that, I’m not dyin’ or anything,” Steve mumbled. “I just... I fucked up, I really fucked up, and I don’t know who else to—”

“Calm down, Steve,” Connie said, “and tell me why you’ve called me at midnight.”

Steve checked his watch. It was nine, which meant—“Oh, shit, time zones. I forgot. I’m sorry, Connie, this was a stupid idea, I’ll hang u—”

“No, Steve,” Connie sighed, “I was up anyway. Long shift at the hospital.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, remembering how tough her job was. In some ways, it was harder than his. And her long shifts at the hospital combined with his nearly week-long assignments away from home—some incredibly dangerous—made their marriage impossible to save.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Just how the job is.”

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“Listen, Steve,” Connie started. “You’re not my husband anymore, but I’d like to think you’re my friend.”

“Of course you are, Conn. I’d drop everything if you needed my help. You know that.”

“It goes both ways, Steve. If you’re in trouble—”

“No, it’s just...” Steve realized what an ass he was being, calling his ex-wife about this. “It’s nothing, Connie.”

“I can tell when you’re lying to me. I can do it in my sleep,” Connie laughed. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I...” Steve took a deep breath. There were multiple parts to this fiasco. Might as well start with part one. “I think... I’m... bi...sexual.”

Was that... did Connie snort? “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What do you mean—”

“Steve, I was married to you for almost five years. I noticed things.”

“Like what?”

“Like the big fat crush you had on the pool guy, for one.”

Their apartment complex in Miami had a pool, and the man who maintained it was—well, he was something else. Always had his shirt off and his headphones on, dancing to music while he worked. Steve found him oddly captivating, charming even, but he wouldn’t necessarily call his behavior a crush—well.

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess,” Steve said with a shaky laugh.

“It doesn’t make our marriage less real, or how I felt about you—”

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Steve said. “I loved you, Connie. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

“I loved you too,” Connie sighed.

“Yeah,” Steve nearly whispered. “Guess it just wasn’t in the cards for us.”

“Maybe in some other time,” Connie said. “Some other place.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. The silence stretched out between them.

“So...” Connie broke the lull in conversation. “Who’s the guy that’s got you all worked up?”

“I never said there was a guy!” Steve protested.

“You’re calling me late at night with a sexuality crisis. There’s gotta be a guy,” Connie said.

“Okay, fine, there’s a guy. M-my... partner.”

“Oh, this is juicy.”

“Shush, Conn. I’m serious. My fucking partner. And I think I fucked it all up today. I—I acted like a total ass, and he took things the wrong way, and I—I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good partnership. Like I ruined ours.”

“Steve, our divorce was mutual,” Connie said. “And I’m sure whatever you did, you’re blowing it out of proportion.”

“I may have, uh, started getting jumpy around him,” he said. “Because I was... feelin’ things. And it was pretty soon after I found out that he was into men, and I think he thought that I thought it was—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Steve. Just talk to him.”

“Easier said than done.”

“So grow a pair and call him.”

Steve smiled despite himself. “You always know just what to say, Conn.”

“Of course I do.” Connie said.

Steve sank further into the couch, staring at the picture of the beach in Miami he still kept on his coffee table. It was a reminder of that era of his life.

“Connie?”

“Yes, Steve?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Are you happy?”

There was a pause before Connie responded. “You know, I have my bad days, but yeah. I’m happy, Steve.”

“Good,” Steve murmured.

“You deserve to be happy, too,” Connie said.

After another long pause, Connie spoke. “Talk to your partner,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

–

It was getting on towards ten-thirty and Steve still hadn’t called Javi. Hadn’t changed out of his work clothes, hadn’t even moved from his spot on the couch.

Steve pulled out his phone and opened up his contact list again.

Texting him an apology was the coward’s way out. And if he was being honest, calling him wasn’t much better.

Fuck it. He had to do this in person.

He had to make things right.

–

Steve ran up the stairs of Javi’s apartment complex, his mind racing. What do I say? How do I say it? How do I keep from fucking this up even more?

He got to Javi’s door, and for a moment, he wanted to call this off, to just run away and come to the office on Monday and they could both pretend like nothing ever happened.

But he had to do this. He needed Javi to know.

So he knocked, and kept knocking, because Javi’s doorbell had been broken for ages and he doubted he’d fixed it in the time since.

Suddenly, the door jerked open, leaving Steve’s fist hanging in the air mid-knock. He dropped his arm down immediately.

“Javi,” he breathed.

“Murphy?” Javi stared at Steve, eyes wide. “Jesus, it’s late, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Steve looked at the floor, unable to face Javi’s gaze. “Javi,” he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat, gathered his courage, and looked Javi in the eye. “Javi, I’m so sorry.”

The tension in Javi’s shoulders suddenly dissipated. “You drove all the way here to apologize? Jesus, the way you look right now, I thought somebody died.”

Steve shook his head. Javi sighed.

“It’s nothing, Murphy. I overreacted today. Go home.” Javi started to close the door, but Steve shot out his hand and stopped it.

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I need you to know. The way I acted today, it isn’t—it ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

Steve took a deep breath before continuing. “Well, I mean, now that I think about it, it sorta does, it kinda really does have everything to do with you, but not like that, not in the way you think—”

Javi looked at Steve like he’d grown another head.

“Oh, hell,” Steve muttered before grabbing Javi by the shirt and pulling him up for a kiss.

Javi let out a startled little oof before pushing Steve away.

Javi stared at him for one painful eternity of a minute before clearing his throat and speaking. “What the hell, Murphy?”

Steve felt his stomach drop. “Um, sorry, fuck. I don’t know what I’m—I’ll just—”

Steve turned away, ready to sprint for his car and spend the rest of the night drowning in terrible tequila and his own shame. Before he could leave, Javi grabbed Steve’s shoulder and dragged him into his apartment, slamming the door behind them.

Steve’s heart was about to leap out of his chest. He was not looking forward to Javi yelling at him, or worse—letting Steve down gently, with sympathetic brown eyes and a pitying smile. Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Javi, I—”

“Shut up,” Javi said before shoving Steve against the wall and kissing him breathless.

Steve stood still, shocked for a moment, before grasping Javi’s shirt and kissing him back. The tickle of Javi’s mustache against his lip was an entirely new sensation, but Steve loved it, the friction sending a thrill down his spine. When Javi licked into his mouth, Steve let out a little whine in the back of his throat. He pulled away, mortified, but Javi just stared at him hungrily, licking his lips.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he confessed, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb back and forth along Steve’s cheekbone.

Steve sucked in an unsteady breath. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you big blonde idiot.”

“How long?”

Javi bit his lip and broke eye contact. “Don’t make me answer that,” he murmured.

Steve’s eyes widened. They’d been partners for a year now. “You never...”

“Never what? Came onto you? My partner?” Javi shook his head. “My straight, just-divorced from his wife partner? Yeah, wasn’t gonna happen.” He chuckled, completely devoid of humor.

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t really know men were an option for me until...” Steve swallowed. “Last night.”

Javi looked down to where Steve’s collar was open, the hickey in plain view. Javi ran his fingers over it, pressed his thumb into the purpled skin—the ensuing ache making Steve hiss.

“Yeah?” Javi murmured.

“Yeah,” Steve rasped.

Javi kissed Steve again, all teeth and tongue, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve didn’t know where to put his hands—they wandered from Javi’s neck to his shoulders down to his sides, but settled at his hips, pulling their bodies flush together. Javi smiled against his mouth, grinding his hips in a slow circle against Steve’s, exactly how they danced together in the club last night.

Steve broke their kiss, then, moving his lips to Javi’s throat and biting down.

“Fuck,” Javi groaned.

“Now we’re even.” Steve tried to sound unaffected, but his voice came out all giddy and eager. Javi smiled, eyes flittering from Steve’s mouth to his eyes and back.

“Let me take you to bed,” Javi said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Please.”

–

Steve lay on Javi’s bed completely shirtless, having lost it along with his shoes and socks somewhere on the floor. Javi was similarly undressed, only wearing jeans as he braced himself over Steve, gentle hands roaming everywhere. Steve’s breath hitched as the callouses of Javi’s fingers caught against the smooth skin of his belly.

Javi moved his hand further down, beginning to fiddle with the button of Steve’s jeans. At the same time, he kissed along his throat, open-mouthed and wet. Steve shivered.

“Let’s take these off, baby,” Javi murmured against his neck. Steve wanted to object at being called baby, but it practically made his stomach do somersaults. He obediently lifted his hips, letting Javi tug them off and throw them to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. Steve was left wearing only his gray boxer-briefs.

“That more comfortable?” Javi mumbled as he mouthed at Steve’s neck.

“Uhhh-huhh,” was all Steve was able to manage. He was about to fall apart and Javi hadn’t even touched his dick yet.

Javi kissed him on the mouth again, lazy and slow. Steve should have known Javi would be an utter tease of a lover. Impatiently, Steve bit down hard on Javi’s lower lip, making him groan and grind his denim-clad cock against Steve’s thigh.

Steve couldn’t take the teasing anymore. He snaked one hand down to tug at the waistband of his underwear. Javi got the message and helped pull the fabric down Steve’s legs before tossing it over his shoulder.

Now Steve was under Javi, stark naked, hyperventilating and hard as a rock.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, Murphy,” Javi said, genuine concern tinging his voice. He pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead as he stroked his hand along his side. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Steve said, voice strained, “M’sorry, just—haven’t been this nervous about fuckin’ since junior prom.”

Javi rubbed soothing circles along Steve’s hip. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Steve gave a jerking nod of his head. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Javi captured Steve’s lips again, slipping his tongue into his mouth and making Steve’s head spin. Steve grabbed at Javi’s hair, running his fingers through it, tugging on it when Javi bit his lip.

Javi moved his mouth down Steve’s neck, paying specific attention to the hickey he had left there, soothing it over with his tongue.

Then, one hand grasped Steve’s cock and gave it a tug. A moan tumbled from Steve’s throat, turning into a whine as Javi’s grip tightened.

“What do you want, baby?” Javi murmured, voice low and filthy in Steve’s ear. “Want to fuck me? Want me to suck you off?”

Steve trembled as Javi stroked him, his grip firm yet agonizingly slow. He wanted it all, he wanted everything, but he was so overwhelmed he didn’t know where to begin.

Until he remembered something.

“Well,” Steve began, trying to even out his breathing, “I’ve h-heard you elevate blowjobs to an art form.”

Javi grinned before planting one last kiss on Steve’s lips. He shuffled down on the bed, his arms bracketing Steve’s hips.

–

Steve was beginning to regret his request, because Javi was driving him absolutely crazy.

He had started by nuzzling at the blonde curls at the base of Steve’s dick, then placing wet kisses along his thighs, but never stopping where Steve wanted him most. Steve even moved his hand down to touch himself, but Javi swatted it away.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” Javi joked. Steve’s cock jumped at the idea, and holy shit, he had had enough sexual revelations for one night.

Steve shook his head and saved that for later. “Hurry up, then,” he complained, trying to buck up his hips, but Javi held them down.

“Behave yourself,” he chided, nipping at Steve’s hipbone before moving his mouth closer to Steve’s dick, his hot breath so, so close—

Javi then pressed a chaste little kiss to the underside of Steve’s cock and pulled away.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Steve growled.

“Watch your language, Agent Murphy,” Javi said, all pleasant nonchalance, before leaning back in to take Steve’s dick all the way to the back of his throat.

“Fuck!” Steve cried, thrusting up into Javi’s hot mouth. Javi hummed, hollowing his cheeks and dragging his lips slowly up Steve’s shaft. He let go with a wet pop, a trail of saliva connecting his mouth with Steve’s dick. The sight nearly made Steve come right then and there.

Javi then moved down to Steve’s balls, rolling them with his tongue, sucking one of them into his mouth. At the same time, he used his thumb to rub at the head of Steve’s cock. It was too much stimulation and not nearly enough. Steve kept trying to grind up into Javi’s touches, but Javi held him down with his forearm, keeping Steve utterly at his mercy.

Steve kept cursing under his breath and letting out little high-pitched moans, each one embarrassingly louder than the last. Every time he would reach the precipice, Javi would slow his pace.

Steve reached down, carding his fingers through Javi’s hair. Javi took Steve’s cock into his mouth again, sucking hard and slow, too goddamn slow.

Frustrated, Steve grabbed Javi’s hair and yanked hard. All that did was make Javi moan around his cock and grind his hips against the bed.

“Oh, you like that?” Steve huffed out, a little surprised.

Javi pulled off his dick. “Shut up, Murphy, I’m trying to suck you off.”

Feels like you’re tryin’ to torture me, Steve wanted to say, but then Javi went down on him again, and all that came out of Steve’s mouth was another desperate moan. He pulled on Javi’s hair, urging him to move faster, and finally, finally, he did, bobbing his head up and down, using one hand to hold Steve’s hips down and the other to tug at Steve’s balls. The tension in Steve’s body ratcheted up higher and higher, almost ready to tumble over the edge, when Javi slowed his pace slightly. He moved one hand further down, rubbing against the sensitive skin behind his balls, further back—

Steve sobbed as Javi rubbed his thumb against his asshole with just the slightest pressure. He reached out and grabbed Javi’s hair, tugging him off his dick with an obscenely wet noise.

“Too much?” Javi asked, his voice gravelly and hoarse. But he didn’t stop rubbing against Steve’s hole. Steve canted his hips, seeking more of Javi’s touch.

“No,” Steve gasped out. “M’just—I was gonna come.”

“That’s the idea,” Javi said with a wicked grin.

“Not yet,” Steve pleaded. He wanted to come so badly, but—“I want—I want—”

Javi took the head of Steve’s dick back into his mouth and rolled his tongue along the underside, making Steve groan and throw his head back against the pillows. Javi pulled away again, the damn tease. “What did you want?”

“I want—” Steve bit his lip, almost too embarrassed to ask. “Can you—your fingers—”

Javi repositioned his hand so that two fingers were stroking against him. “Inside?”

Steve nodded, unable to speak.

Javi kissed Steve’s hip. “Just a minute,” he said, reaching over to open the drawer of his nightstand. Steve tilted his head to look—Javi rifled through a messy assortment of notepads, chapstick, condoms—Steve held his breath for a moment as the image of Javi’s dick deep inside him flashed in his head—eventually grabbing a small bottle of lube. He coated his fingers with it before setting it on top of the nightstand and nudging the drawer closed with the back of his hand.

“Knees up a little,” Javi said, and Steve tentatively obeyed. At the first touch of Javi’s slicked-up fingers against him, Steve hissed at the cold sensation.

“Sorry,” Javi said with a sympathetic scrunch of his eyebrows. “It warms up fast.”

Javi rubbed at Steve’s hole, not pressing in yet. “Have you ever done this before?”

Steve wanted to laugh, but all he could manage was a quiet wheeze. “I thought we, uh, established that this is new territory for me.”

“Hey, some straight guys like their asses played with,” Javi pointed out.

“I think my straight card flew out the window as soon as your mouth touched my dick,”  Steve quipped.

Javi chuckled. “Pretty sure it was when you kissed me.”

Steve groaned, grinding against Javi’s slick fingers, wanting more of Javi’s touch but still wanting to win this damn argument. “What was I supposed to do? You were being such a goddamn cocktease at the club—”

“Whatever you say, straight boy,” Javi said with a grin.

“I think the current situation proves I’m not exactly—shiiiiiit!”

Javi had shoved both fingers inside, a little roughly—but Steve liked rough, thrived on it, and fuck, of course Javi could tell. He was smirking down at him like the know-it-all he was, and Steve wanted to slap him if it weren’t for the fact that he was clawing the sheets for dear life.

Javi’s fingers were barely halfway inside him but they still felt huge, the stretch an aching spark of pleasure. It stoked the fire in his gut, making his cock weep, his hips rocking into the sensation.

“Fuck,” Steve said, oxygen having finally returned to his lungs, “aren’t you—ah—s’posed to start with just one?”

Javi kissed the inside of Steve’s knee. “You’re a big boy, you can take it.”

“Fuck you,” Steve said.

“I’m trying,” Javi replied, easing his slicked-up fingers in and out, bit by bit, making Steve writhe and gasp. Eventually, he had both fingers up to the knuckle.

Steve got up on his elbows to look down, and the sight of Javi’s fingers inside of him sent a thrill up his spine. He collapsed back down onto the bed with a moan, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, Javi,” he said, reaching down to slowly jerk himself in time to Javi’s movements.

“That feel good?” Javi asked, a little smug, trailing kisses along the inside of Steve’s thigh.

“Yeah, Javi, don’t stop,” Steve babbled.

“I think I can make it better,” Javi murmured, sliding his fingers in deep and crooking them up—hitting a spot inside Steve that made his whole body light up like lightning.

“Oh fuck!” Steve yelped, his hips jerking up wildly, both hands moving to grasp at the sheets again, “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck—”

Javi stilled Steve’s hips with his free hand. He didn’t let up, just kept rubbing that spot, making every nerve ending in Steve’s body sing.

“What the fuck,” Steve gasped out in-between desperate, high-pitched moans, “the fuck are you doing to me, Javi?”

“That, Murphy, is your prostate,” Javi said, matter-of-fact.

Steve took a deep breath, trying to will his body to relax a little. “Jeeeeesus.”

An absurd amount of precome was leaking from Steve’s dick, and Javi leaned in to eagerly lick off every drop. Steve shut his eyes tightly, the sight of Javi mouthing his cock becoming too much. He wanted to savor every last moment of this, Javi inside of him, fucking him, and it felt too damn good.

Suddenly, Javi’s fingers stilled inside Steve. “You okay?” He asked, voice serious. He knelt up on the bed a bit, bringing his free hand up to cup Steve’s face, looking into his eyes with concern.

Steve hadn’t realized he was crying.

“Yeah,” he said, voice breaking. “It just—feels so good—Javi, please,” he begged.

“Yeah, okay,” Javi whispered, wiping away a tear with his thumb before moving that hand back down to Steve’s hip. Javi moved his fingers again, and Steve threw his head back, feeling more hot tears run down the side of his face, his thighs starting to tremble with the effort not to come.

But as soon as Javi took Steve’s cock in his mouth again, he was gone.

“Javi—I’m gonna—”

Javi pulled off, stalling Steve’s orgasm for a moment. “Shh, I’ve got you,” his voice little more than a rasp, reaching to pry Steve’s fingers off the sheets where he was still holding them in a death grip. Javi linked their fingers together before going back down on him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard.

Steve came with a shout, white-hot pleasure crashing through him in waves. Javi just kept sucking, kept stroking against his prostate, wringing out every last bit of pleasure, every little moan and gasp, until Steve was tugging at Javi’s hair, silently begging him to stop before it all became too much.

Javi pulled his mouth off Steve’s cock and slid his fingers out of him gently, but Steve still hissed at the overstimulation. As Steve came back to earth, he looked at Javi through bleary eyes, affection fluttering in his chest. And then he realized—Javi hadn’t gotten to come, he hadn’t even taken his pants off yet. He reached for Javi’s belt loops, tugging at them.

“Lemme touch you,” he said, his voice a syrupy-slow drawl in his post-orgasm haze. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah,” Javi replied, touching their foreheads together. “I want that.” Steve kissed him, a stumbling press of lips, breathing into each other as he fumbled with the fly on Javi’s jeans. He pushed his hand into Javi’s pants, expecting to find more fabric, but his hand brushed against hot, sticky skin.

Steve looked down to see his hand touching Javi’s hard-on. “Shit,” he said. “Guess that answers ‘boxers or briefs.’”

“None of the above,” Javi said with a grin.

“Fuck,” Steve said, ogling Javi’s thick, heavy cock in his hand, stroking it with reverence. “I want—I think I wanna blow you.”

Javi groaned. “Then do it.”

“I—might be bad at it,” Steve said, sheepish.

“A blowjob’s a blowjob, Murphy,” Javi said, “even the bad ones are great.”

Steve let out a nervous laugh. “True,” he said.

They both got Javi’s jeans off the rest of the way, discarding them with rest of their clothes. Javi sat against the edge of the bed as Steve knelt on the floor in front of him, resting his hands on Javi’s thighs.

If you told Steve a week ago he’d get on his knees for Javier-fucking-Peña, he wouldn’t have believed you. But here he fucking was. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he was too busy staring at the jut of Javi’s cock, mouth watering.

Tentatively, Steve ducked his head down and licked at the head. Javi hummed appreciatively, stroking Steve’s hair in quiet encouragement. Feeling a little more confident, Steve licked a long, firm stripe from base to tip. Javi’s hips twitched up a little, chasing Steve’s mouth.

“Okay,” Steve said to himself, “I got this, I got this,” and Javi started to laugh, but it was quickly cut off with a groan as Steve took Javi’s dick as far as he could.

Steve gagged as it hit the back of his throat, and he pulled off, coughing. “Fuck,” he choked out, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Javi reassured him. “Go slow. Breathe through your nose.”

Steve took a deep breath and tried again—went slower this time, pushing past the discomfort and swallowing against his gag reflex as he took Javi all the way down. His nose brushed against the coarse hair at the base of Javi’s dick.

Javi, bless him, kept his hips very still. He reached out to tuck an errant strand of Steve’s hair behind his ear. “Fuck, baby, that feels good,” he purred. The praise made Steve shiver. Carefully, he slid his mouth back up, sucking hard as he went. Javi moaned, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair, staring down at where his cock met Steve’s mouth. Steve took a deep breath and went down again, pausing just short of the base of Javi’s dick before pulling back up.

“You’re doing so good,” Javi breathed, giving Steve’s hair a gentle tug.

“Yeah?” Steve said, looking into Javi’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Javi said, hissing when Steve took him in his mouth again.

This time, Steve wrapped his hand around where his mouth didn’t reach, moving his hand in tandem with his mouth, working up a steady rhythm. Javi began to move his hips to meet Steve’s mouth, murmuring dirty little words of encouragement. Experimentally, Steve let his tongue drag against the slit at the head.

“Fuck,” Javi cursed, fisting his hand tighter in Steve’s hair.

Steve took that as a sign to keep going, his hand firmly pumping Javi’s dick while his tongue laved relentlessly at his cockhead. Javi panted loudly, his hips grinding into Steve’s mouth. Realizing he hadn’t touched them yet, Steve tugged at Javi’s balls with his free hand.

Javi’s hips stuttered as he groaned, loud and obscene. Steve felt a little burst of pride in his chest at the wanton noises coming from his partner, and all he knew was he wanted those noises even louder, so he inhaled a steady breath through his nose before taking Javi all the way to the back of his throat again.

“Fuck, Murphy—Steve—”

Steve moaned around Javi’s cock, gagging but barely even registering it, letting Javi hit the back of his throat again and again, just hearing Steve ring in his ears, how desperate and lustful and—affectionate it had sounded—

Javi grabbed at Steve’s hair, pulling him off his dick. “I’m gonna–” Javi said, his voice strained.

Steve fisted Javi’s cock, jerking him fast and desperate. “Do it,” Steve said, “come on me, Javi, come all over me, please—”

“Fuck!” Javi shouted as he came, the hot, sticky mess of it coating Steve’s face, dripping over his mouth and chin. Steve kept his hand moving, twisting his hand on the upstroke, drawing it out as long as he could before Javi batted his hand away, completely spent.

Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, streaking it with Javi’s spunk. Curious, he licked it, getting the salty-bitter taste of it on his tongue.

“Fuck,” Javi said between harsh pants of breath, “that’s hot.”

Steve couldn’t help but giggle, still trying to rub the sticky mess off of his face. “It is? I thought it was kinda gross, man.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Javi said with an affectionate, exasperated eye-roll.

Steve stood up on unsteady legs and walked over to their pile of forgotten clothes. He picked up a shirt and started to wipe his face with it.

“Is that my shirt?” Javi said.

Steve looked down at the shirt in his hands. “Uh, yup.”

“Oh, fuck you, man. Give it here before you ruin it.”

“What, you gon’ make me?” Steve teased.

Javi got up from the bed and went up to grab his shirt from Steve, but Steve stood on his tip-toes and held the bunched-up garment high above his head. Javi pawed for it, even gripped Steve’s shoulder for leverage, but couldn’t reach it.

Steve grinned down at Javi. “What’s the matter, Javi?”

“Give me my damn shirt,” Javi growled.

“Ask nicely,” Steve cooed.

“Give me my damn shirt, please.”

When Steve wouldn’t relent, Javi swept his foot against the inside of Steve’s ankle, causing him to lose his balance. Before he tumbled down, he held on to Javi’s arm, sending them both to the floor in a heap, Steve flat on his back.

Javi went for the shirt again, but Steve chucked it across the room. Javi moved to stand, but Steve grabbed him by the knee and flipped their positions so that he pinned Javi to the floor.

“Ow,” Javi grumbled.

“Don’t be a pussy,” Steve teased.

“Give an old man a break. My back is killing me.”

“Old man? You’re what, 40?”

“42.”

“Yeah, you’re ripe for the retirement home.”

Javi just rolled his eyes and pulled Steve down for a kiss, rough and biting, and Steve couldn’t help but smile against Javi’s mouth.

–

The next morning, Steve woke up and panicked. Javi wasn’t in the bed next to him. Did Javi freak out and leave in the middle of the night?

Wait. He was in Javi’s apartment. And upon further awakening, he noticed the smell and sound of bacon sizzling on the stove.

Pulling on his boxers, Steve shuffled into the kitchen and announced himself with a yawn.

“Mornin’,” Javi said, using a fork to move around thick pieces of bacon in a cast-iron pan.

Completely in the nude.

Steve couldn’t help but stare, his gaze lingering for a moment on Javi’s broad, muscled shoulders, before settling on his ass.

It was tiny, round, and absolutely perfect. Adorable, even.

So that’s what it looks like.

Javi turned his head to look at Steve with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Steve hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. “I like your ass,” he mumbled ineloquently.

“Why, thank you,” Javi snorted, flipping over the bacon piece by piece. “I’ve been told it’s not much to look at.”

Steve walked over to Javi, settling his face at the crook of Javi’s neck and his hand on Javi’s butt. “I like it,” he said, voice thick with sleep, “s’cute.” He gave it a squeeze.

Javi chuckled, and Steve could feel the low rumble of it through his body. Steve smiled, then yawned again.

“Coffee’s hot if you want it,” Javi gestured to the coffee pot on the countertop.

“If it’s better than the shit we have at the office,” Steve mumbled.

“Of course it is, Steve,” Javi said.

Steve. He smiled into Javi’s shoulder. He wasn’t just Murphy anymore, he was Steve. Steve practically giggled.

“Good to know, Jav,” Steve replied, reluctantly pulling away from Javi and moving toward the coffee pot.

Javi looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Jav?”

Steve just smiled sleepily. “Considering I’m finally ‘Steve’ to you.”

Javi looked sheepish. “Ah,” he said, looking away. “Fair enough.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“Okay, Steven.”

“Oh, hell no. You take that back.”

They were both laughing now, their easy banter warming Steve’s bones.

Either that or the coffee. Which was much better than the shit at the office.

–

–

–

Content: Steve has a brief sexual identity crisis, one single use of a gay slur (by Javi disparagingly referring to himself), a smattering of angst, kissing, love bites/hickeys, blowjobs/deepthroating, anal fingering

[tamakissimp]

I.T- some of us are whores

summary: Iida doesn’t want you to express your whorish thoughts.

warnings: sugestive stuff? 

wordcount: 617

prompt 17: 'Oh, I'm sorry mister 'I-safe-myself-for-marriage', some of us are whores.'

200 FOLLOWERS PROMPT LIST

request: by anon. see here

a/n: haha oops this is very short but yolo, these prompts where meant as blurbs anyways

"Come on," Mina says as she nudges you in your side. You simply shake your head. "Admit it."

"He isn't cute," you say. Mina clasps a hand over her mouth as she pretends to be hurt. A small pout forms on her lips.

You laugh at her as you snatch the phone out of her hands. You quickly open google and type in an all to a familiar name.

"Timothy Chalamet is fine or whatever, but he is nothing compared to," you say before handing the phone back to Mina. "Him."

Mina looks at the phone screen with confusion written all over her face. "Isn't he the dude from Twilight?" she asks. You nod at her before leaning over to look at the screen along with her.

"Yes, but he is still fine as fuck," you say. You lean back into your chair a bit as you close your eyes, imagining the guy standing before you. "I will let him spit in my mouth, rail me and snap my neck like a glowstick and I would still thank him."

"What?!". You turn to where the sudden yelling is coming from. You see Iida standing, hands on his desk as his eyes are as wide as saucers. He quickly stomps over to your table.

Mina throws her phone down on the table. She clasps her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggle. "That kind of language is not appropriate in the classroom," Iida says as he animatedly talks with his hand.

He has now pulled the attention of the entire class towards you. "You cannot say such lewd things during school hours and especially not in class. As the class president, I need to stop you from using such words.".

All you do is nod as him as you let him continue to ramble on about the importance of a 'safe classroom environment'.

"I will need to go to Aizawa-sensai and make sure you get detention for your words-".

You raise your hand up to stop him from talking, effectively shutting him up. "Oh, I'm sorry mister 'I-safe-myself-for-marriage', some of us are whores.".

Iida's jaw practically drops to the floor at your words. Denki cheers you on from his table while Bakugou burst out in laughs.

"I mean," you say. "Mineta can be all pervy and shit but I can't say what I want a man to do to me? That's hypocritical.". Mina finally breaks as she bursts out in giggles along with Bakugou.

Aizawa, who's still laying in his sleeping bag, is keeping his mouth shut and watching along. He would be lying to say that he doesn't live for this kind of drama.

You at your elbow rest onto your table so that you can rest your chin in your palm. "I mean," you say as you look Iida up and down. "You can definitely get it too.".

Iida's cheeks grow bright red right before he bursts out in another lecture. You simply smirk at him as he talks on and on.

"You cannot say that kind of thing to someone, especially a classmate. It doesn't matter if I liked it or not i-it's lewd," he says. You nod at him while continuing to stare straight into his eyes.

Iida squirms under your intense gaze as lewd thoughts start clouding his mind. Did you really think that he could get it?

He stops in the middle of his lecture as he rushes back to his table. He grabs a book and buries his face in it to hide his bright red cheeks. You simply smirk look over your shoulder once before smirking at Mina. "He could still get it-"

"No!" Iida yells.

[golbrocklovely]

Im going anon because last time i submitted an ask to another fan acct on here, word got out to reggie and he blocked me on twitter.

Based on stuff that has been said and now deleted i believe certain people were not okay with Sam and Colby just expecting them to drop everything and film with them, or participate in stuff of theirs but when they asked for the same stuff in return the former were aways busy or just not interested. Reggie was doing late night twitch and “not sleeping enough” and getting stuff to edit short notice. After this was said or claimed, Colby said reggie was not going to edit for them so he can focus on his own stuff “twitch”. Right after this it was known by another former friend that they sat down Kevin and had issues with him always filming. Suddenly Reggie unfollows Sam, Colby unfollows Reggie, and then Reggie unfollows Colby. Reggie & Kevin became close to the KnJ group, there is an actual video of those guys making fun of them for always being around and eager. Reggie became all those guys i.t guy for twitch (not to mention Cassie & Devyn started hanging out Jcs house with Reggie and Kevin). Suddenly Jake becomes super distant from sam and colby, he just stays in his room and does twitch and would tell Tara we cant do this or That and would do the weirder shit to impress KnJs friends (this was all live on twitch) while you could hear Sam and Colby and Kat hanging out outside his room. Little bit after this is when Corey and Jake moved out, Jakes actual announcement to moving out was kind of like he was poking fun of the situation.

Its no coincidence they lost 8 friends all at once. They didnt grow apart, something happened. Not to mention Sam actually called them fake friends during one of their lives during 2020 because no one called him or checked in to see how he was.

(figured i would add all of your asks together.)

👀👀👀

this all just sounds like everyone got slightly upset with one another and instead of being adults and talking things out, they all just decided to be petty and not speak and give each other the silent treatment.

i LOVE that 🙄

i will say the kevin thing i knew about bc of the mike situation that happened recently, but everything else i didn't know about.

it seems as if there is a lot to the story that we don't know about. and i'm okay with that bc it ain't our business anyway. but my only problem is they ALL got the fans into their friendships. and while i don't expect them to tell us what happened, they could at least pretend to not dislike each other lol

or address it if it's really not that much of a problem. even just saying "hey i'm not close to xyz anymore, so if yall could stop asking about them, that would be great" would be better than awkwardly ignoring the person's name (usually snc's lol).

as someone who is easily annoyed by confrontation that could be easily solved by talking/petty situations, this whole thing is irritating and ngl i'm kinda over it lmaooo

[jennsmischievousmind]

Chaos Therapy

Session #4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You were assigned to a field mission, with particulars co-agents, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. One mission turned into multiples. After each missions you are debriefed by a therapist, Dr Noach just as Sam and Bucky. Thing is, they don’t know that you are much more than an agent.

Warnings: pining, bit of angst, Buck/Sam bickering, violence (fights against enemies), mild swearing (still real bad at warnings)

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

“Lettonia?” You fastened your weightlifting gloves looking back at Bucky.

“We have a lead on Zemo.” his face fell a little

“Hey” you searched for his eyes “kick his ass for me,”

His smile returned a hearthy chuckle leaving his lips, hesitantly his hand reached your forearm brshing down to your fingertips, he took a step forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, your eyes closed on their own and you squeezed his hand in yours, he let his forehead rest against yours.

"See you in a few days," he whispered, you nodded and he took a step backward,

"Don't kill each other," 

"noted,"

You watch him go, his broad back passing the gym door. Your stomach immediatly churning, "Buck!" you ran out the gym, he was waiting at the elevator, "Bucky!" he panicked seeing you ran to him.

"Doll,"  your fingers interlaced with his dog tags, you stopped the motion your face inches from him, his eyes fall on your lips. A tug on his dog tags and your lips collided, his arms circled your back, a hand splayed on your waist the other   slowly going up your spine to your nape as your free one caressed his face, feeling the pricks of his beard under your delicate fingers.

“Bucky, I .. “ the ding of the elevator distracted both of you for a second “I’ll have to tell you something,”

“you’re okay ?” the worry in his eyes had you tongue-tied, your hands tightened on his shirt. “Yea, yea just .. be careful out there,” the smile you gave him unknitted his brows, his hands brushed your arms.  You couldn’t bare to tell him, not now, he will know the truth soon enough anyway. He hesitantly leaned in pecking your lips before getting on the elevator. 

“What’s going on ?” Sam squinted his falcon eyes at Bucky who did everything to avoid his scrutinous look.  “Oh, oooh you and Y/n finally!!” Sam let out a proud laugh, clasping Bucky’s shoulder.

  “Y/N what do you make of their duo?”

“It works somehow. I know it seems unbelievable especially when you see them from the outside. The thing is, they both lose Captain Rogers, the person that believe in them both and now they can only count on each other and believe in each other that’s why it works. Sam believe in Bucky being able to heal and get redemption, while Bucky believe in Sam being worthy of the Shield. The constant bickering is their way of showing their affection. They have a strong teamwork.” you conclude.

Noach nods, all the while analyzing your features.

“Thank you, they’re another mission coming up_”

“Yes ma’am. But I’m not allowed to join them for this mission,”

“I know, I’ve talked with the Director, that’s a shame, it’s a big one,” you both stand up and she walks you to the door “Y/N” she stops “I’m planning on ending the therapy when they come back from this mission.”

“What is it?” she says seeing your face fell.

“You know exactly,” you passes your badge on the elevator sensor. 

“It was necessary,”

“They won’t like it,”

“They? Or he?” you gave her a grave look, “You want me to say that I shouldn’t have engage anything with Bucky,”

“No, I don’t blame you, you’re both human attraction is normal. Though now a long discussion with him awaits you.” Your head tilt back knowing too well she was right.

Sam and Bucky were back from Lettonia, you had some undone work back in the cave you didn’t have the time to greet them yet.

“Now, in order to round off our work here, I needed a closer look at your teamwork and general relationship,”

“You bugged us, Doc?” Sam scoffed, you facepalm behind the one-way mirror.

“Not exactly. I need you to know it was necessary to prove that your duo was fit for combat,” she turned to the mirror behind her nodding. Your cue, clenching your hand on the door handle, the voices inside increased as you pushed it.

“Agent Y/F/N mission was to evaluate your compatibility and capacity to work as a team, outside those therapy sessions. Agent Y/L/N beside her I.T work is a trained therapist,” 

“That’s some fucked up therapy,”

“Mr, Wilson,_” you blocked their discussion as you were focused on Bucky’s reaction. His clenched fits on his thighs, his locked jaw and his gaze fixated on the wall before him. You jumped slightly as he stood up and left the room. Noach and Sam looked at you stopping their discussion. “I’ll be right back,” quickly walking out, you breathe in deeply. Bucky’s back facing you, the tension in his stance visible.

“Bucky,..” he glanced on the side

“I’ve been lie too for a longtime Y/n, ..” taking a step forward carefully you observed his side profile “I guess you can hurt me in the end,”  his voice melted with anger and sorrow stopped you, the lump in your throat getting bigger, the prickling in your eyes accentuating.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to find your voice back. Like approaching a wild wolf, you were on edge yet cautious, reaching his shoulder you softly pulled on it “Please look at me,” he turned around but his eyes never reached yours, his hands on his hips you took them gently, interlacing your fingers with his. Against what you thought he didn’t reject you. His eyes still cast away, you rested your forehead on his chest, closing your eyes, you felt his hands twitched in yours, his chest heaving a little faster.

“You have to understand,…” your murmured feeling your throat tightened.

“you could have told me!” he spoke quietly yet the tightness in his voice showed his anger.

“Really though,” an anxious smirk reached your mouth for a millisecond “it was my mission Buck. I .. I didn’t plan on falling for you, it changed a lot of things.” He stayed silent at your confession; panic took over, his silence giving you the chills. Clearing your throat after an odd silent long second, you let go of his hands, taking a step back, and took your most serious professional voice “Please come back in the room, Dr Noach has some more questions.”

Noach arched an eyebrow seeing you enter the room alone, you sat next to her, facing Sam. Like Noach predicted Sam was “easier” to get by, he was still reluctant obviously but not closed to discussion. Bucky never came back in the room, before leaving Noach gave you gentle smile squeezing your upper arm.

“You won’t have to see much of me now, don’t worry,” you said to Sam who slowed down to a stop next to the elevator.

“Well, we’re not through it yet, the director of intelligence asked to see the three of us,”  you stepped into the elevator with him.

 “As you know the image of super-heroes is not at his best. After the few events with the flag smashers and the chaos in Lettonia” he looked at the boys gravely “the governments are not willing to brush this away as nothing happened. Moreover, rumor has it flag smashers are still quite upset about the docks operation. I suggest you lay low for a few days, weeks maybe. I can’t have you fighting flag smashers around the country, and cause much more mishaps,”

Sam clapped is hand all of sudden, turning to you and the silent Bucky next to you “Mi casa es su casa,”

You look at them wondering, Bucky avoiding your eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” you left the room after the director dismissed you.

Starting your way to the elevator you paused hearing your name, “Sam’s house is safe, and you will be safer with us,” Bucky’s concerned warmed your heart.

“Hurts me to say it but tincan’s right,”

Although you knew they were 100% right, spending 24/7 with them, moreover around Bucky, it would have been great if it wasn’t for the fact that he totally despised you at the moment.

Passing by your place you grabbed a backpack and shove a bunch of random clothes in it. Sam and Bucky were waiting in the car. Seating down on your bed, the exhaustion caught up with you, your mind going blank, staring into the void.

Bucky look in the rear-view mirror “She’s taking too long,” Sam hummed. “Maybe we should check on her,”

“Maybe,” Sam looked at Bucky, pushing up his sunglasses onto his nose, reclining his seat and crossing his arms. Bucky rolled his eyes opening the door with a bit too much force that it cried out.

A knock on your door made you jump, blue eyes met yours, he was standing there at your bedroom door. He looked around taking everything in, if you were both in another mindset it would be thrilling.

“We have to go, the longer we stay here_ “ 

“I know, sorry,” grabbing your pack you slide down your bed, opening on your drawer near the door you grabbed the gun in it, slipping in your pants. Bucky eyed you, hands in his pocket. 

He didn’t budge as you passed by him. His aura embracing you, overwhelming your senses. Daring a glance behind at him, his eyes were lost on you, his lips moved as he was about to say something but as soon as he refocused his jaw clenched a second. “Let’s go,” he walked to the door, you squint your eyes unwilling to see him past you so coldly. A warmth enveloping the hand holding your bag brought you back, his flesh hand brushed yours as he grabbed your pack, then left without looking back.

“So, we’re just going to follow orders?”

“It cannot hurt,” Sam glanced in the rear-view mirror “we all need some time off...” The ride was so awkward Sam was trying to loosen up the mood every so often, you tried to keep up with him but at one point you were too exhausted and fell asleep.

Bucky kept glancing at your sleeping form curled in the backseat. “When we get there you two will talk!” I’m not spending a week or more with a depressed cyborg and a torned beautiful woman!” Bucky frowned at Sam, “I haven’t dealt with that kind of problem, in a while.” he sighed the all sentence.

“Well, get with it!” Sam’s voice woke you up, “Good timing, we’re here!” The light blue and white big house appeared before you. “Sam that’s a really nice place!”

“Thanks, in the family for generations!” he was rightfully proud of the building.

“Rooms are upstairs,” he turned around letting his duffle bag hit the ground, the both of you standing awkwardly 2 feet apart.

“I don’t want to hear anything…” his look paused on you then Bucky his look insisting. You rolled your eyes at the insinuation. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” You drag yourself up the wooden stairs.

“Dinner at 9, Everyone pitch in to cook, house rule,”

“Believe me Wilson, you don’t want me near fire and sharp knives.” You yelled from the landing, missing Bucky hiding a smile as he joined Sam in the living room.

“Here,’ Sam walked down the pier, handing a bottle of beer to Buck who was watching the sunset.

“You know she had to keep it from us,” Sam calmly said, his VA side resurging.

“I know,”

“And that she wouldn’t feel so bad if she didn’t care about you,” Seeing Bucky staying silent his brows knitted, Sam stood up “Man, you got to talk to her, she reached out it’s on you now,”

“You realized it’s not that easy,”

“It is, you walk up to her, show or tell her what’s on that cyborg brain of yours, and that’s it, avoiding her it’s not the right way to do it.”

After a good shower you sat by the window overlooking the pier, the boys were on the dock enjoying a beer. “It’s gonna be fine,” you pep talked yourself eyes trained on Bucky’s silhouette.

Session #5

MASTERLIST  

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol. 1 Annual 1985

Mon Jan 04 2021 [11:38 PM] Bocaj: Wooo annual [11:40 PM] Wack'd: Enjoy this adorable invading robot

[11:41 PM] Wack'd: It hasn't really done anything yet but people are scared and so the police have been contacted [11:41 PM] Wack'd: *tugs collar* [11:41 PM] KarkatTheDalek: Isn’t that Crimson Dynamo? [11:41 PM] Wack'd: It is not. It fell out of the sky [11:41 PM] KarkatTheDalek: Maybe he was in space [11:42 PM] Wack'd: I'm pretty sure it's older brother here is a TOM from Toonami

[11:43 PM] Wack'd: Shooting at the green one just makes more green ones. One cop remember something about this robot from when he was just a kid and runs off to call the Fantastic Four [11:44 PM] KarkatTheDalek: My god [11:44 PM] KarkatTheDalek: Robot Madrox! [11:45 PM] Wack'd: It's another deep cut

[11:45 PM] Wack'd: This guy is from the 60s. I don't really remember him that great [11:45 PM] maxwellelvis: It's not a robot at all! It's a little green man in a can! [11:47 PM] Wack'd: So I.T. can't talk, but they can use their antennas to project images [11:48 PM] Wack'd: Basically Skrulls came to their world seeking trade. IT's folks, having no concept of weapons, produce this

[11:49 PM] Wack'd: Skrulls assume they're being mocked and launch an invasion. And now the Fantastic Four are the only ones who can stop it [11:50 PM] Bocaj: Sure! [11:50 PM] Wack'd: Oh also Skrulls are having a civil war because their seat of power got blown up [11:51 PM] Bocaj: Yeah that makes sense [11:52 PM] Wack'd: So it turns out this was all a set-up by this sect of Skrulls. They're pretending to be IT and their race to lure the Fantastic Four into a trap and prove that they should be the new rulers because by successfully destroying them [11:52 PM] Bocaj: .... Sure [11:53 PM] Wack'd: Reed called this all in advance...somehow...so the Four go in expecting a fight [11:53 PM] Wack'd: And get one [11:54 PM] Wack'd: Sue gets to do leader stuff now I guess

[11:55 PM] Bocaj: Its that Woman in the name. It gives all kinds of stat bonuses [11:56 PM] Wack'd: "I made a buncha guesses about how this species worked like 260 issues ago, and I knew something was up when I encountered evidence that proved me wrong"

[11:58 PM] Wack'd: "I like my theory better, which is that I'm not an idiot and this issue was just poorly written"

[11:58 PM] Wack'd: Reed "Racist" Richards

[12:00 AM] Bocaj: Reed is also incredibly wrong [12:00 AM] Bocaj: As racists are [12:00 AM] Bocaj: Since Captain Marvel is dead by this point it means that the nice Skrull princess already appeared on the page [12:00 AM] Wack'd: Anyway the Skrull lady is talking a big game about how if her plan fails the Universe will collapse so the Four are gonna see what's up [12:01 AM] Wack'd: Another sect of Skrulls is going to set off a "Hyper-Wave Bomb" that will destroy the Universe. Because reasons [12:01 AM] Bocaj: That seems counterproductive [12:02 AM] Wack'd: Turns out the Avengers are all ready on this end of the plot [12:02 AM] Wack'd: Two superhero teams + reasonable suspicion of Skrulls = fight fight fight [12:02 AM] Bocaj: Oh cool, sneak peak for me maybe [12:02 AM] maxwellelvis: This is an annual, so probably not [12:03 AM] Wack'd: Steve "Cap" Rogers decides to resolve this by asking something only the real Four would know [12:03 AM] Wack'd: "How's the Baxter Building?" [12:03 AM] Wack'd: And since Steve knows it's a trick question it must also be the real Steve [12:03 AM] Bocaj: This crosses over or overlaps with an Avengers Annual [12:04 AM] Bocaj: Marvel may have started doing that thing or flirting with the idea where all the annuals in one year tell one badly told story [12:05 AM] Wack'd: I do not know who this man in a stripey bowtie screaming at Skrulls is but it's a great image

[12:06 AM] Wack'd: Anyway Monica "Cap" Rambeau does something to the bomb to make it only work on Skrulls [12:06 AM] Bocaj: Monica, don't do a genocide [12:07 AM] Wack'd: Don't worry Dezan, in like twenty years you'll be indistinguishable from every other Skrull

[12:07 AM] Bocaj: This feels like a twilight zone or outer limits twist [12:08 AM] Wack'd: It is literally a 60s Twilight Zone twist, yeah [12:08 AM] Bocaj: He also looks like slightly disheveled british Beast Boy with a weird chin [12:09 AM] Wack'd: So the bomb does not kill Skrulls [12:09 AM] Wack'd: It just mode-locks them in their actual faces [12:09 AM] Bocaj: So thats how that happens [12:09 AM] Wack'd: Is Johnny gonna go home and see Lyja waiting for him? [12:09 AM] Bocaj: Ha [12:11 AM] Bocaj: Apparently: "The Hyper-Wave Bomb explosion affected all Skrulls by trapping them in whatever form they were in when the bomb went off, as seen in Silver Surfer Vol 3 #6. Prince Dezan only returned to his true-form because he willed himself to do so just as the bombardment began. The Skrulls begin slowly restoring their shapeshifting abilities following the events of Silver Surfer Vol 3 #27. This also goes to explain how Lyja wasn't exposed as a Skrull either." [12:11 AM] Wack'd: Sure [12:12 AM] Wack'd: Oh okay close reading reveals this is indeed what happened in this annual as well [12:12 AM] Wack'd: My bad [12:10 AM] Wack'd: *cough*

[12:12 AM] Wack'd: Anyway tomorrow perhaps we finish Bryne and also pick off that pesky GN [12:12 AM] Wack'd: But for now I think this is it [12:13 AM] Bocaj: What a span of issues today

[vampiregirl1797]

First Days With Your Boyfriend’s Cardigan

Spencer Reid x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist

Word Count: 2,199

Summary: Y/N is starting her first day at the BAU as a technical analyst working alongside Penelope Garcia. She turns up wearing one of Spencer’s beloved cardigans to offer her some comfort on a particularly anxious day. How will the others react when they make the connection between Y/N and Spencer?

Requested by: @synthemo 

I took a deep breath as I stared up at the FBI building in Quantico, Virginia. My boyfriend, Spencer had gotten me a job working alongside the BAU’s technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. I still had absolutely no idea how far his influence had contributed towards me getting the job, all I knew was last Wednesday at 9am I’d had a job interview with Garcia and the unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. The latter had been a little intimidating, but I’d been prepared for that thanks to Spencer’s forewarning. Thankfully, Penelope had been bright, bubbly and had made it impossible for me not to relax in her company. The interview had passed in a blur, and I’d received a call three days ago telling me I had got the job and I started today. Spence had gone in before me— he’d been called in for a child abduction case in L.A, and after rushing to get ready in under five minutes, he’d left me with a kiss and a quietly murmured ‘good luck today honey.’

I’d fallen back asleep within minutes, but when my alarm had gone off this morning, the nerves had woken with me and had been getting progressively worse since. So I’d grabbed one of Spence’s cardigans on my way out of the door— he’d worn it all day yesterday so it smelled of him, and the soft, warm fabric made me feel almost as safe as I did when I was in his arms. I was hoping no one would notice, though it was pretty oversized on me, but I could have easily bought it this big on purpose. Even if they did, I couldn’t bring myself to be too bothered by it; Spence was my boyfriend, he made me feel loved and safe, and I wasn’t going to be embarrassed for needing that today. 

I found Garcia in her bat cave pretty easily— she’d given me a tour after my interview last week and she brightened up as soon as she saw me and gave me the biggest hug, immediately making me feel more at ease. 

‘Y/N! You’re here, I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been looking forward to this since your interview last week, I knew then that you were my missing I.T. soulmate, the yin to my computer yang.’ She paused for breath, noticing the understanding smile on my face, ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ I nodded, settling into the wheeled chair she pulled out for me and taking in the many screens that were clearly my set up, because they were the only ones in the room that were blank. While Garcia’s were lit up with programmes, search results and surrounded by so many bright, fluffy objects that instantly made my mood brighten just that little more.

‘So where do we start?’ I wondered, wrapping Spence’s cardigan tighter around me as I listened to the information Hotch had asked us both to gather.

‘Okay, so apparently our newest resident sicko is someone in this family’s life. His preference is teenagers and due to the fact that Kellen David disappeared without a struggle, the team thinks that the kid knew his abductor,’ Garcia started, handing me a list of handwritten names and sectors for me to search.

‘Got it, what permitters am I searching for?’ I asked, loading the system that I created onto my set up— I’d had it ready to go for days so it only took a few minutes to set up.

‘Any man who seems involved in the David’s lives, relatives have already been cleared, so anyone from outside blood relations who appeared when Kellen was coming out of infancy.’ Garcia reeled off, typing on her computer as she spoke.

After a moment, I joined her, both of us working silently, well up until my phone rang and I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise. Garcia laughed at my reaction and nodded towards the headset next to the phone. With a sigh I slid it on and hit answer.

‘You’ve reached one of the two technical analysts for the BAU.’ I murmured into the phone, nerves clearly present, but they disappeared when I realised who I was talking to.

‘Hey honey,’ Spence said, his voice soft and I felt my anxiety completely diminish, ‘how’s your first day going?’

‘Good, I’m over half way through the list Garcia gave me and I haven’t found anything yet.’ I told him, discreetly inhaling his scent from the cardigan I was still wearing as he spoke; with the sound of his voice and his aroma that was imbedded in his clothing, my anxiety didn’t stand a chance of re-appearing.

‘I’m glad to hear it. I’m actually calling to ask you to search something for me, would that be okay?’ He asked, sounding almost timid and it made my heart soften in his chest. He was always so considerate with me, always asking me something in a way that was clear that I could say no if I wished.

‘Of course it is. What do you need, Doc?’ The nickname slid past my lips without much thought, but I did smile when I noticed Spencer’s change in tone, hinting at the flustered state that always followed that particular endearment.

‘Can you check where Garrett Harold was around the time of the abduction?’ He said, and I knew if I could see him right now, he would be blushing and his eyes would have darkened from their usual light cinnamon to chocolate in his desire. Depending on his mood, that particular nickname could make him beam with pride, blush bashfully, or make him so overrun with desire that we would both be naked within minutes. It was unfortunate he had the latter reaction when I was thousands of miles away from him. 

‘According to credit card statements Garrett Harold was only a few blocks away from the David’s house fifteen minutes before the abduction. He bought a large caramel latte, and he even purchased a flight to Paris from his phone but there’s no record of him being in France.’ I told him, crossing my legs as I tried to dampen my own desire that always arose in response to his.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He hung up and Garcia and I fell back into the comfortable silence we’d become accustomed to very quickly. 

I didn’t know that Garcia had been half listening to our conversation, and that hearing the relaxed way I spoke to him had allowed her mind to remember where she’d seen the cardigan I was wearing before. On the resident genius, Spencer Reid. She grinned and turned back to her work, wondering how long it would take the other profilers to realise what she’d picked up on in under an hour.

//

‘How long until they’re back?’ I asked Pen for what must have been the hundredth time, but I couldn’t help it, I’d heard that Spence and Derek had to talk down the suspect. I was beyond proud of him for saving Kellen David, but I after I’d heard Garrett had fired a shot at my genius because he wanted to be shot dead and not go to prison, well I needed to see him with my own two eyes to make sure he was okay.

‘They’ll be here in a few minutes, Derek just texted me and said they’re in the elevator.’ Garcia said, typing a response to Morgan and squealing when I grabbed her arm and pulled her with me to the elevator.

When the doors finally slid open, I offered everyone else bright smiles but made a beeline for my resident genius and threw my arms around his neck. I could hear exclamations of surprise from behind me, but I didn’t care and nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, my eyes fluttering closed at how much stronger it was coming from him than the cardigan I’d been holding hostage all day.

‘Hey honey,’ he chuckled, holding me just as tightly and I smiled when I could hear him inhaling after he’d buried his face in my hair, ‘I’m okay, I told you I was.’

‘I know, but you could have lied to stop me from worrying,’ I replied, not even bothering to open my eyes.

‘Well... you’re not wrong.’ His tone was sheepish.

‘Did you get hit?’ I pulled back, my eyes taking in his appearance as if I could see any injuries that would be hiding underneath his soft cardigan, shirt, tie and dress pants.

‘No I moved out of the way, he shot the wall and Derek shot him.’ His eyes were soft as I linked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me back into the elevator.

‘Don’t you have paperwork?’ I wondered, but couldn’t stop myself from subconsciously holding him tighter at the prospect of him leaving me.

‘No, I finished it on the jet, had a feeling we’d both need each other’s company tonight.’ He smiled, caressing the side of my face and bringing my lips to his as my eyes fluttered closed at his touch. 

I didn’t notice the surprise on five of the six agents faces as they saw our familiarity that clearly hinted at a romantic relationship. The sixth agent was grinning at seeing Reid so comfortable and clearly unbelievably happy around me, well, that and the sight of the shock on her family’s faces. I was too wrapped up in how Reid’s lips felt against mine; warm, soft and comforting that I couldn’t have told you my own name if you’d asked me in that moment. As the doors slid closed, Spencer broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine as we both regained our breath.

‘I think the cats out of the bag,’ he murmured, his eyes glittering with mirth.

‘They didn’t know?’ I frowned; I’d figured Spence had told them who I was when he’d suggested me for the job.

‘No, I wanted you to know you got the job because of how amazing your technical analyst skills are, not because of your connection to me.’ He explained, his hands moving through my hair as he spoke.

I felt my eyes soften and I was pretty sure I felt my heart fall a little bit deeper in love with the brilliant, wonderful, considerate man in front of me. I noticed he was avoiding my eyes, probably because he was afraid of how I’d react at his team knowing we were together.

‘I love you, Spencer Reid.’ I murmured, smiling when his eyes met mine, the brown having melted to syrup as they softened, ‘and I don’t care that the team knows, you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met, why wouldn't I want everyone knowing that I love you?’

His eyes closed for a moment, and when he spoke I could hear the emotion that he was trying so hard to control in his voice, ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

He kissed me again, this kiss was different than the relieved kiss we’d shared earlier. This one was full of love, happiness and the adoration we shared for one another. We pulled away as the elevator came to a stop, and walked out into the lobby and out of the building hand in hand. 

‘Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in my clothes?’ He casually mentioned as we walked to his car— I’d gotten the bus this morning seeing as he’d had to come in before me.

‘Hmm...’ I pursed my lips, pretending to give it some thought, ‘no I don’t think you have.’ I teased, knowing that he told me every time I “borrowed” his cardigans, shirts or T-shirts. 

‘Well I really love it.’ He smiled, caressing my face as he murmured, ‘I love how you borrow my clothes because they smell like me, and because they make you feel safe and remind you that you’re loved.’

I felt tears form in my eyes, once again blown away by his perceptiveness, at how well he knew me. I didn’t know what to say, other than once again tell him how much I loved him, because what was there to say to that? I wanted to tell him how much it meant to me that he knew me so well, that he took the time to understand me in a way that no one else ever had, but I just couldn’t get my lips to form the words. But I didn’t need to, because he already knew how much he meant to me, how much I adored him, how I couldn’t bear to be without him. It was obvious in the way his eyes softened as he observed me, the gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear and the kind but firm way he held my hand. He knew me better than anyone else, and I knew that it was the same for him too. Spencer was my other half, and words couldn’t adequately describe how grateful I was to have him in my world as the love of my life and my best friend.

A/N: @synthemo I don’t know if this is what you envisioned, but this is where I went with it. I know I went a little OTT with the fluff, but what can I say, I’m an addict when it comes to fluffy moments with Spencer Reid. I hope you liked it && I’ll try and get through some of your other requests when I’m off work later in the week! ☺️