#Anyway I'm Not Counting On Having Tuesday For The Paper

[xaykwolf]

My final for the class I have this semester is a paper wherein we’re supposed to act as though we’re a licensed psychologist called into an organization to consult on a problem and give recommendations. My prof suggested a former prac site because we’re likely to know quite a bit about the day-to-day operations and problems that grunt workers face. And well, after the last year I just had, there’s no way I’m touching that without a hazmat suit and years of therapy (haha irony), so this assignment’s really not the place to do any of that processing.

No...instead I chose RT. And I gotta say, it’s been pretty cathartic to type out the history of the company, to see how it developed in its entirety, the good, the bad, and the ugly (though it’s been mostly those last two, even with a nice bit of perspective on what I liked about the company). I get to talk about the ethical and diversity issues next, which is gonna be a treat and a half for my poor brain, and then how I’d go about evaluating the company, how I’d conceptualize everything put together, then give recommendations. I’m already 4 full pages into the 12-15 requirement, and it’s not due till December 1st :b

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 17- No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

Summary: You and Javi are continuing to make progress on building your new house, until a few distractions are thrown your way that you definitely weren't expecting.

Word Count: 12.3K (how bad is it that I'm like, wow! What an average length for a chapter! Well done, me!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), HELLO, STRAP IN EVERYONE. unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), romantic? ANAL (you guys, I'm sweating), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (f receiving), rimjob (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, insecurity but Javi being our consent KING and literally taking such good care of you (but would we expect anything less?!), Javi with dogs (hehehehe), everyone say thank you to our favorite village idiots Carter and Miller for helping out Javi and Osita (you'll see!!)

A/N: If there are two words to sum up the plot of this chapter, it is butts and dogs (if you watch Bluey, yes, the puppy is named after Muffin LMAO) 💀 I am so sorry this chapter took FOREVER, 1) Life has been crazy busy (parent teacher conferences sucked the life out of me for like a full week), and 2) I would be lying if I said I was not shakin' in my boots to post this bc I have never written legit butt stuff smut (say that 3 times fast) before and I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't wanna read this chapter/skip the smut I will not be offended at all!! Also for my non-American friends, Home Depot is like a giant hardware store (that also sells hot dogs that absolutely slap) Okay, that's all, love y'all more than words, forehead kisses for all of you!! 😙 also please laugh at the name of this chapter I thought it was funny as hell, I'm crackin myself up

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“Okay, we have paint samples, countertop samples, carpet samples, sheets of drywall, toilets that are ordered can come get picked up on Tuesday, and we can let Danny know they finally have those screws he’s been looking for back in stock. That’s everything, right? Please say that’s everything.” You sighed, going over your home project to-do list for what felt like the 47th time before exiting out of Home Depot for what also felt like the 147th time this week. 

What had started as a plot of land and and a head full of ideas was slowly but surely becoming reality as progress on your new home came to fruition- as winter faded into spring, your house began to grow and change with the seasons, bare bones wooden beams and dirt of a few months ago now becoming walls, floors and roofs of the new place you’d spend forever in. While it was exciting to move into the stages of actually deciding what the inside of your home should look like (not just shape and size), it felt like you and Javi had been making a million and one decisions every day related to something to do with the house, and unfortunately, this Sunday night was no exception. 

“No, I think that’s everything.” Javi nodded, scanning over the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands once more. 

“We might as well just start changing our permanent address to this Home Depot. I’m pretty sure the employees are convinced we live here at this point.” You laughed, resting one hand on your hip, the other full of the sample swatches you and Javi needed to look at when you got home. “You sure that’s everything? Honestly, even if it’s not, let’s face it, we’ll be here some point later this week anyways. At least now it’s getting to the fun stuff- Paint and floors is a lot more fun than plumbing and electrical.” 

“I know. We’re almost there, Osita. Danny said 8 to 10 more weeks last time I talked to him.” 

“Over/under on how many more trips we make to Home Depot between now and then. I’m gonna say 56.” 

“You’re such a dork. I fucking hope it’s not 56.”

The two of you made your way out to the parking lot with hands full of goods, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the other buildings of the shopping center- a Chinese restaurant, a laundry mat, a building that had been under construction since your frequent trips to Home Depot began, and a pet store. 

You and Javi had tried the Chinese restaurant once, a few bites in simultaneously agreeing it was 100% the worst food you had ever had, never needed to go to the laundry mat, and god knows what the mystery building was getting turned into. You had, however, always wanted to go into the pet store, knowing it would be fun to walk around and look at the animals since it was something you loved doing as a kid with your brothers. But by the time the two of you were done with your hardware shopping, your brain was too fried to ever ask Javi if he wanted to go in and check things out as an entertaining thing to do. Tonight probably would have been no exception to the rule, but that was before you noticed the big sign posted in front of the store reading “Dog Adoption Event Today!” 

You and Javi had both agreed you had wanted to get a dog- that was something the two of you had easily agreed upon early on in your relationship- but like most things nowadays, you were waiting until the house was finished and you were out of the apartment before looking into getting one. You knew that going to look at dogs before the two of you could really do anything about it was a bad idea, but the longer you stared at that sign, the less and less willpower you began to have to keep yourself from running over there. 

“Jav.” You nudged, the two of you almost to Javi’s truck before stopping in your tracks, gesturing over to the pet store. Javi paused next to you, taking a moment to read the bright bold letters of the sign, letting out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Baby, you know we can’t get a dog right now. Believe me, I want one too, but we gotta wait until the house is done first.” 

“I know. Can we just go look? Please?” While your puppy dog eyes were no match compared to Javi’s, you pouted your lip just about as far as it could go, batting your lashes at him with a pitiful frown on your face. You had no idea how Javi was ever going to be able to say no to your kids if he was already immediately caving from your silly, overexaggerated begging, let alone his own sweet brown eyes staring back at tiny versions of him. Regardless, right now, Javi’s lack of iron will was working in your favor, letting out another small sigh, contemplating for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. 

“Fine. But just looking, okay?” He muttered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. 

“Yes! Thank you! I promise, just looking… Probably.” You grinned, changing directions and speed walking across the parking lot towards the pet shop. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he followed behind you. 

“I heard that.” 

As you walked through the front doors of the pet store, you were greeted with the sounds of high pitched barks and yaps, joining the few people gathered by the pen set up to contain the litter of what looked to be a mix of cattle dogs and something shorter and stumpier, the brown and cream speckled puppies bouncing and playing with the toys, blankets, and other littermates in the cage with them. You audibly let out a gasp as you looked down at the pure adorableness of the sweet little balls of fluff below you, squatting down next to the pen to get a better look at the group of puppies. 

“Oh my god, they’re so cute. Javi, they’re so freaking cute. Hi lil babies, aren’t you the most precious things ever?” You cooed, holding the back of your hand up to the cage for the playful puppies to sniff, their tiny bodies toppling over each other to smell you. 

As much as Javi wanted to be tough and strong willed to try and prove a point, you were right- these puppies were the cutest things he’d seen in a long time. Crouching down next to you, he glanced over, giving you the I told you this was a bad idea look that you knew you were bound to get from him the moment you saw the puppies. 

“They are really fucking cute.” Javi sighed in reluctant agreement, bringing his hand down by yours to try and pet some of the puppies through the cage. 

“Oh hi there! I see you two found the puppies!” An employee, an older woman with curly gray hair, smiled down at the two of you, gesturing towards the pen full of tiny, yapping pups. “Are you interested in adopting one?” You and Javi looked up at her, each of you letting out a deep breath before speaking at the same time, your answers lacking unison. 

“No.” 

“Maybe.” You quietly whispered under Javi’s no, letting out a little shrug, eyes darting away towards Javi to spare yourself from the eye roll you knew he was giving you from your response. “No, we’re not…” You finally agreed, giving another pouty, sad look to Javi. “We really want one, but we’re in an apartment right now and are moving into a house soon. We’re waiting until then to get one. Although these guys are making it very hard to keep it that way.” 

“I can understand that.” The woman laughed, a playful grin spread across her face, clearly sensing your willpower about the situation was much weaker than Javi’s. “Well, even if you’re not interested in adopting one right now, you’re more than welcome to pick them up or play with them! It’s good for them to practice being handled anyways.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Immediately, you stood up, bending over the edge of the pen to pick up one of the puppies closest to you, cuddling it against your chest as it squirmed and wiggled in your grasp. You sat bag down on the floor, cross legged as you cradled the puppy, eyes almost as wide and sweet as the dog you were now holding. “What’s this one’s name?” You asked the woman, carefully setting it down between your legs to let it bounce around. 

“That one is Muffin. He’s a feisty one, but a sweetheart.” She beamed, slowly bending down to pick up one of the stuffed toys in the cage, handing it over to Javi. Before you knew it, Muffin was scooting out of your lap and bolting over to Javi and the plush rabbit he was holding in his hands, making the both of you giggle at his goofy, floppy gallop. Javi held out the toy in front of him, a smile spreading across his face as Muffin bit down into the rabbit, shaking it in his mouth, tugging back at Javi’s grip on the stuffed animal. Any shred of stubbornness Javi was trying to hold out on was long gone, smiling and snickering just as wide as you as Muffin hopped into Javi’s lap, curling up with his toy in his mouth. 

Javi was like a little kid, practically giggling as he grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it along the floor, watching Muffin slip and slide across the linoleum before pouncing on the toy and trotting back to Javi with it in his mouth. 

“Good boy! You’re smart, aren’t you?” Javi grinned, tugging at the toy before looking back at you and your look, screaming, So much for just looking, huh? without having to say a word. “He is really cute.” Javi admitted, trying his best to keep his composure from completely crumbling. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, giving each other the look that made you seriously contemplate if you were going home with a puppy today, until you looked back down at Muffin, now hunched over Javi’s foot, pee dribbling down his shoe. 

“Oh shit!” You grimaced, reaching up to pick up Muffin mid-stream, scooting him over to finish peeing on the floor instead of on Javi. 

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” The woman gasped, grabbing some towels next to the cage, handing them off to Javi for him to wipe the pee off his shoe. “That is the thing with puppies, the potty training does take a while.” 

You were trying your best not to burst out into laughter as you picked Muffin back up, putting him back in the pen with the rest of his brothers and sisters, giving Javi and apologetic shrug at his current circumstances, knowing it was not helping your in any way shape or form to bring a puppy back to your apartment. “No it’s all good, no worries.” Javi smiled, wiping off his shoe with the towel and giving it a quick shake with a reluctant sigh, grounding him back in reality. 

“Can’t be any worse than stepping in a pile of cow poop.” You teased as Javi looked down in disappointment at his shoe, finally beginning to shake his head and laugh along with you. “Alright, you win, Mr. Reasonable. Muffin has made a very good case for no puppies at the apartment.” 

“Eventually baby, I promise.” Javi smirked, giving you a little nudge, the two of you waving goodbye to the cuteness corralled in the kennel behind you, finally making your way back to the car after your detour. 

Well… So much for that plan.  

“What about this one?” 

“Baby, I don’t know, at this point, they all just look like the same color.” You sighed, slumping your hand in your face, resting your elbow on the kitchen table where you and Javi sat, paint swatches spread across the wooden surface, among scattered samples of carpet, countertops and backsplash tiles. “I don’t think my brain can make any more house decisions tonight.”  

“Me either.” Javi huffed, reaching across the table to organize the paint sample cards into a pile next to the stack of other house things that now seemed to have a permanent home with you during dinner time. “I had no fucking idea there were so many goddamn shades of beige.” 

“It definitely doesn’t help that we’re trying to just pick through different shades of brown instead of fun colors.” You laughed, gathering the samples in front of you and stacking them in Javi’s pile as he stood up, pushing in his chair and making his way to the other side of the table where you sat, coming behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you leaned your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his to pull him closer. 

“Fun colors? What, you wanna paint the house purple, Hermosa?” Javi smiled, giving you a little shake in your chair making you giggle. 

“No, you dork. I was actually thinking more hot pink or neon green.” You retorted, giving Javi a nudge back tiling your head up towards him. “No, I don’t know, I know we want something neutral through the house but like, it’ll be fun to pick cute paint colors when we have kids and stuff.” 

Javi squeezed you a little tighter, his heart warming at the thought of when they’d get to do this again when there were actually kids in the picture to fill the empty rooms of their house. No matter how many times you and Javi talked about it, he was sure he’d never get over the fact that you wanted to have a family with him. It was a dream that had come and gone for him all those years ago, resigning himself to a life of simply surviving, even after he had returned home to Laredo. But now, the fact that dream was in reach, and undoubtedly in the near future had him beaming, knowing there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life and build a family with beside you, and that for some reason he still couldn’t quite comprehend, you felt the same way. 

While you had agreed that you would wait until you were married and your house was completely finished before you started trying and your birth control made its permanent home in the trash, with every day that he got closer to marrying you, finalizing your house and starting the newest chapter of your lives together, Javi couldn’t help but feel a want, no, a need, to start a family with you- to fulfill a purpose he so desperately craved to be a father. 

“Well…” Javi grinned, leaning back down to kiss your neck, his pecks becoming much more tender and slow with each press of his lips, “you could let me put a baby in you right now, and we could pick out fun paint colors along with the borning brown ones. Got a lot of rooms we need to fill and paint, Osita.”

“Javier Peña! You are a menace! You have to stop with the baby talk, or I swear, you’re about to make me cave in and crumble. You are testing every ounce of willpower I have.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked up, entranced by Javi’s sweet brown  eyes and their powerful effects. 

While you and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever ever since you had gotten engaged, there was something about knowing you were about to have your own house with 4 extra rooms, solely built for the purpose of being filled with your kids that drove you, and even worse, Javi, absolutely crazy. In the past few weeks, the house had taken shape enough to finally have rooms that actually looked like rooms, Javi making it a point every time the two of you went over to check on progress, to point out just how good the spare bedrooms looked, like he was the most proud of those 4 extra rooms more than any other space in the house.   

The irrational part of you would have given him a baby yesterday, but the rational part of you knew you wanted to be married and have every last inch of that house finished before you brought a baby there. But every time Javi saw those bedrooms, looking at you with that big, goofy grin on his face for his children that didn’t even exist yet, oh god, did it make you want to say fuck it to every ounce of rationality you had left. 

“I think you have baby fever worse than I do, Jav. And that’s saying something.” You teased, reaching up to scrunch his cheeks. With another little giggle and content sigh, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, coming around the back of it to get the slightest running start to jump on him, full koala style, wrapping your arms and legs around his broad back, making the two of you burst out in laughter as he spun you around while you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, covering him with little kisses. “I love you so much. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you know that?” 

“I love you too, Osita. I hope I am. I want to be.” Javi sighed, a hopeful half smile pursed between his lips, causing you to cup both your hands around his face, forcing him to look at you. 

“You will be. I promise.” Tilting your head in, you pressed a soft, tender kiss onto his lips, lingering just a little longer than normal for your added reassurance. “Alright, I gotta get down now though, we have dishes we have to put away, and I have to shower tonight since I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning before school and I don’t wanna have to get up earlier than I need to.” 

“Un beso más (One more kiss).” Javi smiled, gripping a little tighter on your thighs wrapped around his legs, refusing to let go until you fulfilled his request. 

“Solamente un beso más? Por qué no dos? Tres? (Only one more? Why not 2? 3?)” You giggled, one of your hands running through the thick curls of his hair, while the other traced soft circles along his jawline. 

“Me gustaría darte todos los besos, Osita. Te daría cualquier cosa. (I’d give you all the kisses, Osita. I’d give you anything.)” Leaning in, your mouths met again in a soft and sweet moment, a kiss that felt like he meant it- He would give you the world if you asked for it, and then some. 

“God, I could kiss you forever. Alright, Romeo, put me down, we got things to do, and if you don’t, I know for a fact none of those things are getting done.” 

“Fine.” He sighed overdramatically, letting your legs fall to the floor as he released his grasp. “I’ll clean up dinner and you can go take a shower.” 

“I can help with cleaning up, Jav. You made dinner, the least I can do is-” 

“Go get your ass in the shower. I’ll clean it up.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head before gesturing towards the bathroom, making you cross your arms over your chest with an unseriously stern look on your face. 

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell? Rude. Sure you’re not the one who needs to shower after your foot got covered in piss?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying your best not to laugh. 

“Go shower, you dork.” Javi chuckled, giving your ass a playful slap as you parted ways, sticking your tongue out at him as you disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.

After a long, and even hotter shower than usual (considering you didn’t have to account for Javi’s temperature complaints), you wrapped yourself up in your towel and headed back to your room, where you found Javi laying in bed, reading one of the books you had been teasing him about for the past few weeks as it sat on his nightstand, unopened, even though he insisted he really was going to read it soon. As if the fact that him finally opening up and reading the book wasn’t enough to taunt him about, the way his face scrunched as he squinted at the pages certainly was. 

“You doin’ alright over there, Grandpa? Jav, you just have to give in and get glasses, you know you can’t see anything, stop trying to fight it.” You giggled, your appearance in the bedroom catching Javi’s attention, making him rest his open book over his stomach. 

“I don’t need glasses. I can see just fine. I’d look stupid in them, anyways.” He grumbled, refusing to admit that you were right even though he knew just as well as you that his eyesight was definitely not what it once was. He let out another sigh, dogearring the page of his book and setting it on his nightstand, his grumpy demeanor quickly shifting as you gave him that playful smirk you always did when you wanted to rub something in to prove your point. You let out another laugh as Javi rolled his eyes at you, shifting himself on the bed to lay on his side, face resting in his palm with those sweet puppy dog eyes that never left your sight any time he watched you get ready, even if all it meant was putting on one of his oversized shirts and sleep shorts to go to sleep in. 

“Yeah, okay.” You replied, your voice oozing with sarcasm. “And you wouldn’t look stupid in glasses, you look hot in anything, and I’m sure you would look extra hot with 20/20 vision.” 

“Pendejo…” 

“You love me.” 

The two of you laughed as you shuffled through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out one of Javi’s t shirts to wear to bed along with a pair of underwear and cotton shorts, piling the clothes next to you as you unwrapped your towel drying yourself off once more before letting it drop to the floor so you could change. You could see Javi’s reflection staring back at you, more specifically, your ass in the mirror, an awestruck and lustful look growing in his eyes as you reached over to pick up your shirt. 

“I can literally feel your eyes burning a hole through my ass, Jav.” You sassed, smirking back at him through the mirror as you watched him bite down on his lip. 

“Fuck, I love your ass so much, you know that?” Javi rasped, his tongue gently darting between his lips, eyes still locked on your behind. 

“Yes, Javi, you are very adamant about letting me know how much you love it.” You snickered, slipping his shirt over your head, followed pair your pair of underwear, opting to completely forgo your shorts to play into his comment. You crawled up into bed next to him, nudging him over so his back laid on the mattress and you laid on top of him, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips as his hands roamed down your back, sneaking under the hem of your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your ass, letting out a low groan as your mouths met. 

“Because it’s fucking perfect.” He hummed, gripping his fingertips even deeper into your skin after sliding them under the thin, cotton fabric covering it. 

“Wow, someone’s in a mood about my butt tonight. Didn’t know your giant t-shirt and my plain ass underwear was really doin’ it for ya.” You joked, a little grin spread across your face as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair before sliding them down his face to cup his jaw. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the look on Javi’s face had quickly turned from one of lust to deep thought, his brow scrunched and nostrils flared, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. “You only get that look when you’re really thinking hard about something, or you have to fart and you’re trying to hold it in, and I’m really hoping it’s not the second one.” 

Your comment was enough to snap him out of his own thoughts, making him shake his head as the two of you laughed, Javi still holding back slightly as his eyes shifted down towards the mattress, practically hearing the gears in his brain turning, when all of a sudden, it clicked with you. 

Oh shit. 

The combination of his stare down and silence told you everything you needed to know. 

You tilted his chin back up towards your face, a curious smirk stretched between your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You wanna fuck my ass, don’t you?” 

Your voice was sweet and sultry, immediately making Javi’s face go blank in shock that you had connected the dots before he had even said anything. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest almost as loudly as Javi’s, a nervous swarm of butterflies filling your stomach as you waited for him to respond. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. There had been plenty of times that Javi had put a thumb or fingers in your ass when he fucked you from behind, and holy shit, did it feel good whenever he did it. You’d honestly debated bringing it up before, but there was a part of you that could never bring yourself to do it because you never had, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about it. 

It wasn’t that you didn't trust Javi- You’d trust him with your whole life without a second thought. There had never been a time since the moment you first had sex that your comfort wasn’t always his first priority. But with how full Javi felt inside you with just a thumb or a finger, couldn’t help but make you feel a little worried with how big he’d feel with his whole dick inside your ass. 

You also couldn’t help but feel a preemptive guilt if it ended up being too much and you had to ask him to stop, not that he would ever make you feel bad about it, but still, you couldn’t help but play out worse case scenarios in your head. But something about that look in his face as he stared you down in the mirror and head turning deep in thought was enough to spark that little flame of confidence you had brewing and beat him to the punch. 

“Hermosa…” He paused, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing as he gulped, taking an anxious deep breath. “Baby, I-” 

“Do you?” 

The tightened grip of his fingers in your ass, gentle nod of his head and the low groan releasing from his chest was all you needed to know to figure out the answer to your question without even needing Javi to say a single word. His free hand mirrored yours, cupping your cheek as the two of you locked hungry gazes with each other, Javi now finally working up enough confidence to respond. 

“I want to so fucking bad.” Javi rasped, his dark brown eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need for reassurance. “But if you don’t want to, I don’t ever want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I promise, I won’t be upset about it at all.” The confident facade you had been fronting quickly began to crumble, your body flooding with a combination of nerves and excitement. 

“I do, I just- I- I’ve never done it before.” You weren’t sure how your voice had gotten so small and meek- maybe it was the reality of what you were about to do setting in at a rapid pace. Something about the sweet, soft innocence of your voice already had Javi hard as a rock, using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure, considering how even just the thought of even getting to put his dick in your ass already had him on edge. 

“That’s okay. Like I said, it’s only if you want to, baby. We can take it slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop, no questions asked.” 

You could feel your head beginning to gently nod in agreement as Javi’s thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, a little smirk forming between your cheeks while your heart raced at a million miles per hour, almost feeling as worked up and nervous as the very first time the two of you had sex all that time ago. 

“I want to.” You whispered, letting your lips meet his in a tender and ferocious passion, muted moans escaping from each of your parted mouths. 

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to say yes just because I want to.” And fuck, could you feel how badly he wanted to, his fully hard dick straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, heavy against your thigh. You were no better despite your nerves, the cotton fabric of your underwear absolutely drenched already without Javi even touching you. 

“I’m sure. I promise.” 

A low groan rumbled deep in Javi’s chest as your mouths met again, Javi flipping you over so your back was flat against the mattress, letting his hands roam along your body while his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Gonna take my time with you, okay? I promise I’ll make sure you’re ready.” 

“Well I appreciate you just not going straight to shoving your dick into my ass, very gentlemanly of you.” You joked, trying to calm your nerves with your sarcastic wit, Javi practically snorting at your comment. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi whispered to himself through his laughter, resting his head on your chest as he looked up at you in amusement. 

“Sorry, I’ll stop and let you get back to business.” Javi lay frozen, still staring up at you with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. 

“Osita, you know I love you very much, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“And that since we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot of things about you? 

“Also yes.” 

“So you know I can tell when you’re nervous about something, right?” 

You let out a defeated sigh, crossing your arms in stubborn defiance, not wanting to admit that you knew Javi’s suspicions were correct. You waited a moment, and with a little frown pursed between your lips, you finally gave in. 

“...Yeah.” 

Javi rolled over next to you, draping one arm over your waist, the other holding his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up against the mattress, his tender gaze locking with yours, filling you with a sense of calm and reassurance you were convinced nothing else in the world could. “Osita, talk to me baby. What are you nervous about?” 

You flapped your arms up before planting them over your face, burying your head in your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled from underneath your palms. “What am I nervous about? Not to stroke your ego any more than it needs to be, but you have a huge dick, Jav. I’m also guessing this isn’t your first time, and it is for me, and you being the first giant dick to ever enter my ass has me a little nervous.” You rambled, your thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than your brain could process them. “I really want to, I just don’t want it to not be good for you or for you to be upset if we stop or- I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad about it if I’m the reason for- I- I’m probably overthinking it, I’m sorry.” You let out another deep exhale, averting your gaze from Javi’s staring down at the bed. 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to connect the dots, taking a moment to wonder why you were so worried about making him upset before putting the pieces together, his prediction making him clench his jaw in frustration. “Paul wanted to do it and you said no and he was a fucking asshole to you about it, wasn’t he?” 

Your head instantly shot up, swiveling around towards Javi’s agitated grimace, your face almost as shocked as Javi’s was when you had asked him if he had wanted to do this in the first place. “How… Javi, how did you-” 

“That motherfucker… he didn’t hurt you did he? I swear to God if he did, I’ll fucking fly up to Chicago right now and I’ll-” 

“Jav, Jav, cool your jets, killer.” You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his cheek to try and ground him before he really was on the next flight to Illinois. “No, he never did anything. He said that he wanted to and it kinda came out of the blue- I didn’t really want to at the time, especially not with him. He kept asking and asking and I would tell him no and he got so mad about it. Turns out that was around the time he started cheating on me anyways, and became an even bigger dickhead than he already was. But I always felt so guilty, and that it was my fault he was upset because I didn’t want to. I don’t know- I- I guess maybe this has stuck with me way more than it probably should have.” You could feel your voice shrinking, your eyes darting away once again, mortified by the fact that you completely ruined the moment by bringing up your shitty ex and his blatant lack of respect. “Sorry, I don’t know why we’re talking about this I-“ 

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Javi’s lips were on yours, swallowing the rest of your words as your mouths met with a passionate intensity, letting his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer, caging his chest against yours. “Hermosa, you know I would never be mad at you about something like that, right? I love you, Osita, you have nothing to apologize for. All I ever want is to make you feel good, baby. Fuck, that gets me off more than anything else. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” 

“I trust you, Javi.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, lips grazing over his, giving him a gentle nod of reassurance. “I want you to.” 

You could audibly hear the gulp Javi had let out, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he let out a low groan, tightening the grip he had around your waist. “Want me to what, sweet girl? I wanna hear you say it, baby.” His lips began to travel down your jawline towards your neck, hot and wet presses languidly making their way to your collarbone as he tugged at the end of your shirt, snaking his hands up the soft skin of your stomach. You could feel the heat building in your core, letting out a soft moan as his hands palmed at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between the tips of his fingers. 

“I want you to fuck my ass, Javi.” 

With that, his hands were shuffling your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed before letting his kisses make their way down your newly exposed skin, letting his tongue flick along each nipple before letting his gaze lock with yours, a small smirk spreading across his face. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Hermosa. Gonna take good care of you, baby, I swear.” 

“I know.” You nodded, staring back at the hunger pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, practically squirming in the sheets of your bed from the throbbing between your legs, feeling the slick almost dripping down your thighs from just how turned on you were. The grin on Javi’s face had become devilish, biting down on his bottom lip as he snaked his hand down your front, tugging at the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs before running a finger through your slit, already drenching him with your arousal. 

“Turn around, baby. Hands and knees, okay?” You could hear the subtle smugness in his tone, giving you a playful squeeze as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over face down on the mattress, making you squeal. You did Javi one better, laying your chest flat against the sheets, lifting your ass up in the air and giving it a little shake, Javi’s hands instantly kneading at the soft flesh in front of him, digging his fingertips deeper into your skin, feeling his hot breath hovering over your cunt. 

Suddenly, you felt a long, wide strip of his tongue through your folds, pressing hard and intensely along your clit before diving in like a man starved, lapping you up as he began to eat you out from behind. Each stroke of his tongue was more persistent than the last, the grip of his hands on your hips pulling your heat closer to his face as he licked and sucked at your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs. His feverish pace already had you fisting at the bedsheets, whimpering and moaning as his mouth worked along your dripping core, making you gasp even further when you felt his tongue begin to travel up towards your tight ring of muscle. 

“Oh holy fuck- Javi, oh my god, baby. Fuck me, oh shit.” You whimpered as Javi’s tongue swirled along your puckered hole, dancing around the edges before dipping inside, the sensation making you shudder in pleasure, feeling Javi’s low hum of approval deep in the back of his throat. If that wasn’t enough, one of the hands that had a tight grip on your ass was now collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, his fingers tracing through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit, the added stimulation immediately making the tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. As he worked at your hole, the pads of his fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves you could feel your breath becoming ragged, letting out a few more shaky exhales before your orgasm crashed through you, crying out into the soft fabric of the sheets, pleasure and euphoria flooding your body. 

As you came down from your high, Javi let his hands slide gently up and down your sides, pressing soft kisses along your back until he had made his way up your shoulder blades and neck, whispering tenderly into your ear. “Such a good girl for me, Osita. Came so hard letting me eat out that pretty little ass of yours. You want me to keep going?” 

“Fuck yes, oh my god Javi, please.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically as you looked back at Javi, already sitting back on his knees to lift his shirt over his head before sitting up to kick off his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free, precum glistening and weeping from his tip, considering how painfully hard he had been since even the thought of getting to fuck your ass. 

You could feel his body hovering over yours, hands sliding up and down your sides before grabbing at your ass again, placing tender kisses on each cheek before leaning over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, pulling out the bottle of lube and setting it next to him. His hands roamed to your core once again, two fingers dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the soft, spongy spot inside you that already had you moaning again. 

It wasn’t long until his fingers were substituted for his cock, running his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal along his length before slowly pushing inside your pussy, already so wet and worked up, that even with sweet sting of his stretch, he still slid in with ease, setting a steady, even pace as one hand dug into your hip, the other reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, popping open the cap with a click and letting the cool liquid drip over your tight hole, making you gasp. You could feel the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance to your ass, gently teasing you open with one finger, breeching up to his knuckle, the combination of both his finger and cock inside you making you whimper in pleasure. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re already so fucking tight around my finger. You want another one in there, baby?” Javi mewled, prodding his finger deeper into your hole as he continued to thrust into you, his strokes slow and steady, but still punching deep into your g-spot with each thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs. 

“Yes- oh fuck- yes, oh my god.” You weren’t really quite sure how your brain was still even managing to form words at this point, the warm feeling that had been growing inside you spreading to every inch of your body. The pad of Javi’s second finger teased at your tight hole, collecting ample amounts of you slick and lube before pushing in to join the first, the thickness of both of his fingers making you clench even tighter around his cock and digits as you cried out in delight. 

“Shhhhhh, I know, sweet girl. Relájate (relax) baby, I’ve got you.”  

You could already feel your second orgasm starting to build again, heat beginning to bloom in your belly from the rhythmic pounding of Javi’s dick punching against your g-spot and his fingers prodding at the nerve endings of your ring of muscle, already feeling so full from the stretch of both holes. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh fuck- Javi, I’m gonna cum again, fuckahhhhhhh-” You cried out, letting your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, clenching down around Javi’s cock and fingers as you grabbed at handfuls of your bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of your pleasure ripped through you. 

“There you go, Hermosa. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Did so good for me.” He cooed, gently pulling out both his cock and fingers, the emptiness making you shutter as Javi pressed tender, soft kisses down your back before making his way up your neck and nipping at your ear. “You think you’re ready for me, Osita? If not, it’s okay, I only wanna do what you want, mi amor (my love).” 

You took another few ragged breaths to compose yourself, unsure how your brain was even managing to function at this point as you came down from your high, trembling in delight. You nodded before you could speak, Javi letting out a low groan as he sucked at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy against your skin. 

“Need to hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” 

“Fuck my ass, Javi. I want you to fuck my ass, please baby.” You whined, whimpering your words against the soft fabric of your sheets, desperate for more, needing to feel all of him inside you in a way you hadn’t before. 

Javi let out an audible groan as he pulled back, letting his hands roam up your body and back to the lube resting on the bed, once again, popping open the cap and squirting some of the liquid into his palm as he fisted his dick, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your tight hole. “You promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” 

You shook your head rapidly, fingers already gripping into the pillow in front of you as you braced yourself for Javi to enter, feeling his tip press against your tight ring of muscle. Suddenly, you could feel the sensation of Javi breeching your entrance, making you gasp at just how full you already felt as he had barely made his way inside you. Javi pushed further in, leaving you practically breathless from the stinging stretch of his cock filling you as he paused halfway, leaning over to check on you. 

“Oh fuck me- You okay, sweet girl?” 

“Mhhmmmmmm. Fuck Javi, you feel so big. Holy shit, baby. Oh fuck.” You gulped, squeezing around Javi’s length as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit and cunt throbbing as he filled you, the newfound sensation making you see stars. You were so focused on how you were feeling, you had barely noticed how tightly Javis fingertips were gripping into the soft flesh of your ass, like he was bracing himself for dear life as he sunk further and further into your tight hole. 

While Javi had found himself in this position with other women a handful of times before, he had never come close to feeling the same way about anyone the way he did about you- He had been dreaming about the day that you agreed to let him fuck your ass, and now finding himself inside you, knowing he would be the first and the last to ever have you like he was right now, had him on the brink of busting any second if he wasn’t careful. Javi had never been more thankful that you couldn’t see his face, because he knew he looked absolutely wrecked and was struggling to keep the ounce of composure he had left as you gripped around his cock like a vice. 

“Javi, oh shit- Javi, you can move baby.” You moaned, adjusting to his fullness, the initial pain quickly transforming to burning hot pleasure as you gave Javi the green light to keep going. After a few seconds, when Javi had said nothing and hadn’t moved at all, you spoke again, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you. “Javi, I’m good, you can-” 

“I know, I know, fuck- sorry, baby. Jesus Christ- you’re so fucking tight, Hermosa, fuck me. Give me a second or I’m gonna fuckin’ bust right now.” Javi replied, halfway between a whimper and a moan as he firmly grasped your hips, carefully setting a slow pace as he began to thrust in and out of your ring of muscle, shocked to feel how quickly heat was beginning to bloom in your belly once again, his length languidly sliding in and out of your asshole, filling you and striking new nerve endings you had never felt before making you quickly begin to come undone. 

Your legs began to tremble, grasping at the mattress to brace yourself as you felt your clit throb and cunt clench as the coil in your belly tightened further and further, the lewd noises of your moans and grunts filling the room. 

“Javi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, baby I’m so close again, holy fuck.” You cried out, as even just the slightest pick up of Javi’s pace had you reeling closer and closer to the edge of your release. Javi freed one of his hands, snaking it between your legs to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, already swollen and pulsing from your first two orgasms, and now even more responsive as the pads of his fingers circled against it. 

Javi wanted desperately to hold out for you and make you cum as many times as you wanted to just like this, but he knew damn well the moment you came and clamped down even harder around his cock than you already were, he was a fucking goner and going right along with you. He needed to give you one more before he also came embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Fuck Osita, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer either, baby. Need you- oh shit- need you to give me one more, pretty girl. Cum for me, Hermosa, I’ve got you.” 

With only a few more strokes and circles around your clit, you were cumming so hard, you were honestly convinced you had blacked out. Your whole body shook as you wailed in delight, squeezing around Javi’s dick so hard it was only seconds before he was following suit, letting a ragged groan escape through his gritted teeth as you milked him of every last drop, Javi bracing himself for dear life with the grasp he had around your hips as he finished. 

Javi slumped over you, the two of you breathing so heavily it sounded more like you had just finished a triathlon more than anything else. He let out a deep hiss as he pulled out, taking a moment to admire his work as he watched his spend drip out your tight hole as your body collapsed onto the mattress. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been laying there before you were finally able to wrangle the brain power to speak again, and even then, the only words that you were able to manage were a quiet “holy fucking shit…” 

Javi flopped down, laying on his back next to you as you rolled over, both of your faces bright and blissed as you stared at one another, almost unsure of what to say. 

“Are you okay?” Javi asked, gently cupping your flushed cheek in his palm. 

“Am I okay? Javi… Holy fuck. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my entire life. I honestly thought I blacked out there for a second. Baby… That was, fuck, that was insane.” You half laughed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fucking great. Holy shit. Sorry I couldn’t last longer, I didn’t think I was gonna go that fast but you felt so fucking good. Thank you, Osita.” 

“Thank you? For what?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful poke on the chest as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“For this. For trusting me.” 

“Javier Jesús Peña…” You smirked, propping yourself up on your arm to get a better look at him, “I trust you with my life. More than anyone I’ve ever met. I should be the one thanking you for so graciously taking my butt virginity. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there besides you.” 

The two of you burst into laughter, Javi practically letting out a snort as he rolled his eyes at your ridiculous comment. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. C’mon, let's go shower before your cum sits in my asshole any longer and I get pregnant with your butt baby.” You snickered as you rolled off the bed, making your way to the bathroom. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… Butt baby? Seriously?” He snorted, following behind you, giving you a playful smack on your ass, scooping you up to hike you over his shoulder and fireman carry you to the shower, making you squeal. “You’re so fucking weird.” 

“Weirdo you love enough to put your dick in my ass and make your wife, so that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled as Javi set you down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, giving him a little shrug before reaching into the shower to turn on the water. 

“And what a fucking lucky man I am.” 

Ever since starting his job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department, Javi had been able to count on a few things every morning when he got into work. Sheryl at the front desk would greet him with a half hearted “Good morning, Javier” , the smell of shitty work coffee would be brewing in the break room, and Agent Carter and Miller already arguing about something stupid at their desks instead of working on anything that actually needed to get done. That’s why when Javi made his way into work on Monday morning and was not greeted by any of those things, he knew his day was getting thrown for a loop- he just wasn’t quite sure how yet. 

“It was their idea, not mine, believe me.” Sheryl grumbled, rolling her eyes as she nodded towards the path to Javi’s office, holding her hands up in defense as if to prove she had nothing to do with whatever was going on beyond her desk. Javi paused, tilting his head and scrunching his brow in confusion at Sheryl before letting out a sigh, and hesitantly making his way back to find out what in the world she was talking about. 

He was surprised by the lack of Miller and Carter’s presence in their desk chairs, and the unusual silence filling the office as Javi turned his head, wondering where everyone was. He peered over the cubicles, looking for any sign of life, until a strange sound caught his attention from behind the door of his office. 

Woof, woof, woof! 

Javi shook his head, convinced he must be hearing things until the low bark repeated, followed by a hush of anxious voices whispering around the corner. 

“Oh no, shhhhhh! Shit, I didn’t think he was gonna bark.” 

“Well it’s a fucking dog, Carter, what the hell did you think it was gonna, do, meow?”

“Maybe he didn’t hear it.” 

“I highly doubt that, dumbass. God, he’s gonna be fucking pissed.” 

“Your idea, not mine.” 

Even though he couldn’t see them, Miller and Carter’s worried whispers were enough to let Javi know he wasn’t imagining the barking coming from behind his office door. Letting out a deep sigh, which sounded a lot more like a groan, Javi carefully twisted open the doorknob to his workspace, only to be greeted by a large, shaggy and very dirty Golden Retriever staring back at him with big brown eyes, happily wagging its tail and shaking excitedly at Javi’s presence. Although Javi had heard the bark from behind his door, it didn’t stop him from doing a double take from the dog now residing in his office, running his hand over his face in a confused frustration as to how and why Miller and Carter had already managed to make his Monday morning a pain in his ass. 

“Why the fuck is there a dog in my office?” Javi half shouted, making Carter and Miller sheepishly appear from around the corner with guilty looks on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Javi as he glared through the two of them, wondering how the hell they were going to try and talk themselves out of this one. 

“Hey Peña, uh, I uh… Listen Miller was the one who brought him in, and he was so cute that I wasn’t not gonna do anything about it and-” 

“Oh, way to throw me under the fucking bus, Carter!” Agent Miller huffed, cutting Carter off in attempts to let the blame completely fall on him. “You agreed we should keep him here so that we could-” 

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck there’s a dog in my office.” Javi groaned, cutting off Carter and Miller before they found themselves in a pointless arguing match about how and why there was now a dog happily leaning itself against Javi’s leg, his tail shaking back and forth, completely enamored by Javi. 

It was taking everything in Javi not to reach down and pet him to try and prove a point to Carter and Miller that they had astronomically fucked up the rest of his plans for the morning, but the dog was sure as hell adorable and sweet as could be. 

“Okay, well, I was driving into work this morning, and as I was making my way down that back road past the cattle ranch a few blocks down from here, this guy ran out in the road. Thank God I saw him when I did. I stopped, got out, and he came right up to me, but there was obviously no one with him. He looked relieved that he’d found me. Poor guy is dirty and skinny as hell. He hopped right into my car and ate the rest of my McGriddle which I was kinda pissed about, but I can’t blame ‘em.” Miller sighed, now crouching down to give the dog some scratches on the head before continuing on with his story. “So I went to some of the houses on the street and no one had ever seen this dog before. I called Webb County Animal Control to see if anyone had reported  a missing dog that looked like him, but no one had. I asked if I should take him to the shelter to see if anyone would come for him, but the lady on the phone said if no one’s reported him missing, they probably wouldn’t come for them.” 

“Well tell him what else, Miller.” Carter encouraged, trying to aid in Miller’s defense as he rose back up, standing next to his partner. 

“When I called the animal shelter to ask them what to do, the woman I talked to said the shelter is so full, that if we brought him in and no one claimed him within the next two weeks, that they’d…” Miller trailed off, him and Carter both grimacing, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he looked down at the gleeful, furry face staring back up at him. “Well, let’s just say that things weren’t gonna look so good for him. I couldn’t bring myself to drop him off, and I wasn’t just gonna fucking leave him, so, I uh- I brought him here.” 

Javi let out a deep sigh, burying his hands in his face for a moment before rubbing his temples, understanding why Miller had done what he did, but nonetheless, still frustrated that now he had become wrapped up in solving a missing dog case. 

“So what? Are you gonna keep him?” Javi questioned, finally giving in to bend down and give the dog a few pats on his side, feeling just how skinny and boney he was as his hand met his belly. 

“Oh no, I can’t keep him. Apartment doesn’t allow dogs. I would if I could.” Miller admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling guilty for his lack of helpful response. 

“What about you? You keeping the dog?” Javi asked, looking over at Carter, giving him a little shrug, hoping he was the solution to his temporary canine problem. 

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m allergic. He’s cute as hell but my eyes have been itching ever since he got here.” 

“So what, he’s just gonna live here? C’mon you guys, really?” Javi grumbled, now crouching down next to the dog, getting a better look at his begging eyes and goofy grin under his panting tongue, giving Javi a few licks on the face in excitement as his tail began to wag rapidly from Javi’s closeness. 

Javi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as the dog lapped against his face, wrapping his hands around the dog’s head and giving it a playful rub to get the dog to stop before staring back at the sweet, sad eyes staring back at him. He scratched under the dog’s chin before it was snuggling up next to him, comfortably plopping himself down over Javi’s feet and letting out a content little grumble as his tail continued to thump against the floor in joy. 

Javi closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. A deep sigh. Not because he didn’t like this dog. Hell, not even because he was really that mad at the two office idiots for bringing the dog here this morning. Javi let out a long, exasperated sigh, because he could feel the willpower he had preached to you about holding out on a dog until the new house- a conversation he had just had with you last night- was absolutely crumbling. 

He couldn’t come home with a dog, right? He had just spent all of last night convincing you that the apartment wouldn’t be a good place for a dog. But… that was for a puppy. This was a full grown dog. A calm one, at that. A fucking cute one at that. God, it had been 5 minutes and this dog was already attached at the hip to him, and it was probably fair to say that Javi had gotten just as attached, if not more. Carter and Miller were right, with the shape the dog was in, it really did look like no one had been taking care of him, or had any plans to come and find him, and Javi couldn’t bear the thought of sending the dog off to the shelter, knowing his inevitable fate. 

Fuck.

“Okay, well, do you know anything else about him? Are you sure that there’s no one looking for him?” Javi grunted as he pushed himself back up to stand, trying to keep his cool as he looked over at Carter and Miller, their eyes still peeled to the ground in hopes the lack of direct eye contact would lessen their chances of a complete reaming from Javi. 

“No, boss. Only other thing we could find about him was the little tag on his collar, which wasn’t helpful at all, because it only had his name.” Carter shrugged, peeking up at Javi, surprised by the even keel of his tone. Javi bent back down, the dog immediately rolling over on his back and exposing his belly for Javi to pet as he reached towards the dog’s neck, gently tugging at the tethered collar under his tangled fur to read the poorly engraved tag attached, letting out an even bigger sigh and shaking his head in disbelief at the name. 

Bear. 

Of fucking course. As if the universe needed to send him another sign. Of fucking course the dog’s name was the same as his nickname for you, Osita- little bear. 

Javi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, running his hand over his face once again. “Shit. You sure no one’s looking for him?” 

Both Carter and Miller shook their heads, crossing their arms over their chests in sad disappointment at Bear, laying sprawled across Javi’s feet. Letting out one last reluctant exhale, Javi looked back at the pair, nervously awaiting his response before he spoke. 

“If… If no one calls looking for him by the end of the day… I’ll take him home with me.” 

Carter and Miller’s faces lit up in shock and delight, staring at Javi, dumbfounded by what they had just heard. “I mean… Fuck, well… that was way easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Miller half grumbled to himself, glancing over at Carter, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I obviously don’t have any dog shit at home so I’m gonna have to leave early today to get some, so you two idiots are gonna have to finish up the rest of the paperwork I needed to do this afternoon, we clear?” 

“Yeah, yup- Absolutely. Will do.” The two nodded in agreement, still in shock that the worst they had gotten from their boss from dropping a stray dog off in his office was the rest of his paperwork for the day. 

“Fuck me. Alright, c’mon Bear.” Javi sighed, pushing open his office door, Bear, happily trotting along behind him, tail wagging in delight as Carter and Miller stared back at each other, frozen in shock that they, with very little convincing, had gotten their boss to happily take their furry problem into his own hands. 

If the fact that Bear wasn’t cute as can be was enough to win over Javi, he was also the sweetest, most relaxed dog he’d had ever met. Bear was perfectly content to lay down next to Javi’s desk, letting out content grumbles and sighs as he slept and Javi worked, sprawled out across the floor. Bear also seemed to love everyone he met, joyfully making his rounds around the station with Javi after a failed attempt at leaving him behind in his office, immediately caving to Bear’s sad, lonely whines and big brown eyes from behind the glass of his office window. Around 2:00 PM, after Javi had given Bear the better half of his turkey sandwich for lunch, he found himself just as hungry as that poor dog probably was this morning, deciding to cut his day short to get himself some food, and gather whatever else he needed before bringing Bear back to the apartment. 

Javi thanked whatever higher power that the woman working at the pet store this afternoon was not the same woman he had adamantly convinced last night that he was not coming with a dog, because in the back seat of his truck, sat a dog he was now bringing home. The woman working at the store had helped Javi to find everything he needed for Bear and probably then some, Javi more than thankful for her patience and advice, feeling overwhelmed by what to get for a dog that had landed in his care only a few short hours ago.  

After 2 trips up your apartment stairs to drop off the bed, food, treats and toys Javi had gotten, he made one final trip back for Bear, who had glady hopped out of the truck and followed Javi back to your place after a quick pee on the bush in the parking lot, leaving Javi very thankful the dog had found a spot to relieve himself that wasn’t on his shoe. 

“Well, welcome home, I guess.” Javi chuckled as Bear busted through the apartment door, tail wagging at a propeller like speed as he meandered through the space, sniffing and exploring around the kitchen and living room, before wandering back to the bags from the pet store Javi had set on the ground, giving them a little prod with his snout before sitting next to them, looking up at Javi as if to ask if he could have the food and treats that were inside. “Well… I guess a little more food couldn’t hurt, right?” 

There were very few times where Javi was home from work before you, and when he did, he normally told you before he left, or called you at work to let you know- so when you pulled into the parking lot to see Javi’s truck next to your empty parking space, it was safe to say you were a bit perplexed. You quickly unpacked your bags from your car, making your way up to the apartment, trying to rationalize with your confusion and nerves as to why Javi had beaten you home. As you unlocked your door, you gently pushed it open, now even more confused by the muffled grunts and swearing coming from down the hallway. Dropping your things at the entryway, you quickly began working your way through the apartment to figure out what was going on before you almost tripped and fell over a large dog bed now in the middle of your living room. 

“What the hell…” You murmured to yourself, your brow scrunching in bewilderment as you caught your step over the soft, plushy surface, doing a double take to realize that what had almost taken you to the ground was a dog bed. Looking over, you then noticed the several bags from the local pet store, now even more puzzled as your attention shifted back to the end of the hallway, hearing Javi’s voice as well as the sound of running water and frantic splashing. 

“Goddamnit, will you just stay still please? We’re almost done, bud.” 

Almost sprinting to the bathroom, you pushed open the door to find a pile of towels spread across the floor, Javi kneeling over the side of the tub, shirt absolutely soaked as he held the shower handle towards a goofy, wet, golden retriever dancing around in the other end of the tub as he saw you. 

“Uhhhhhh, Javi… Why is there a dog in our bathtub?” You stood stunned in the doorway, your presence startling Javi as he spun around, dropping the shower handle, making it spray over the walls, leading the dog to playfully bark and shake as it hopped over the ledge of the tub to greet you. 

“No, Bear! Come back here! Fuck. I uh- I can explain, I-” Javi stammered, scrambling to grab the flailing shower head before reaching for the dog to try and wrangle him back into the shower, the rest of his thought cut off by Bear taking one more step towards you before bracing himself for a giant shake, absolutely drenching you as you burst into laughter, wiping your now soaking face with the palms of your hands before reaching down to pet the cheerful dog, wagging his wet tail as he leaned up against your leg. 

You couldn’t help but let the smuggest grin spread across your face, now putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Bear, huh? You come up with that one?” You giggled, crouching down to greet who you now were presuming to be the newest resident of your household, rubbing his hands over his drenched, furry body, squealing as he licked all over your face. “I thought we couldn’t have a dog in the apartment, Jav, and I hate to break it to you, this is definitely a dog… very much in our apartment.” 

Javi let out a snort, rolling his eyes at you as he reached over to shut off the water, resting his back against the edge of the tub, propping his arms up over the sides as he braced himself to try and explain his current situation to you. “Well…” he grinned sheepishly as Bear paced back and forth between the two of you, his tail swaying side to side as he dripped puddles across the bathroom floor, “I got into work this morning and the first thing I saw was a fucking dog that Carter and Miller had dropped in my office after Miller found him on his drive in.” 

“Which I am assuming is this dog?” You laughed, gesturing towards the giddy Golden Retriever jaunting around the bathroom. 

“Yeah, this one. Miller said that he found him on a dirt road. Called animal control and no one had been looking for a dog that looked like him, and that when he called the shelter, they were so full, that if someone didn’t either come to get him or adopt him in the next couple weeks, that, well… they probably would have to… Fuck, Cater is allergic and Miller can’t have dogs at his place, and I- he’s so sweet, and I couldn’t just let him go so-” 

“So you bought out the better part of the pet store so he could live here with us?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow at Javi as Bear happily sat himself down in his lap, making Javi grunt at the weight of the dog plopping himself down across his legs. 

“I mean… I uh… I-” Javi mumbled, sheepishly looking down at Bear before looking back at you, doing your best to contain your laughter and giggles. “What, Hermosa?” Javi phrased it as a question, even though he already knew the answer- You were never going to let him live this down for the rest of his life. 

“And you thought you needed to be worried about me bringing a dog home without asking.  Does this mean we have a new member of the Peña family?” You smirked, making your way over to Javi and Bear, squatting down on the soaking bathroom floor next to them, pressing a playful peck onto Javi’s cheek as you gave Bear a big scratch. 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

“You’re lucky he’s cute, and you’re lucky you’re cute, too. Yes, of course it’s okay with me. Welcome to the family, Bear Peña.” 

The two of you smiled at each other as you sat on the bathroom floor, a damp and soggy Bear spread across your laps with the happiest and goofiest grin spread over his face, too. While coming home to find Javi wrestling a stray dog in your tub wasn’t exactly how you pictured welcoming the newest member of your family into your lives, in some strange way, it couldn’t have felt more perfect. Getting to grow and share your life together with Javi was all you could ever really ask for, even if that meant a Monday night, soaking wet from a dog bath gone wrong. 

“Okay, well, we should probably dry this goofball off and get his stuff all situated. Poor guy is probably exhausted after all of his adventures today, aren’t ya bud? Do you think we should put the dog bed in our room? I don’t want him to get scared during the night, but I’m not really sure if we should have him up on our bed, ya know?” 

As you pushed yourself up to stand, you waited for Javi’s response, only to be greeted by double the amount of big, brown puppy dog eyes now staring back at you as you turned around. Javi still said nothing, a guilty look growing across his and the dog’s, as you let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the world you were going to build up your immunity to another sweet face that made you crumble. 

“You already let him on the bed, didn’t you, Jav?” 

“.... Maybe.” 

“Like I said, the two of you are very lucky you’re cute.” 

Taglist:

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[soapymansuds]

Eternity and Counting

Pt.3

(Pt1, Pt2)

(I am SOOOOOO sorry I didn't post on Tuesday. Full honestly, I forgot. But today's chapter is a touch longer than usual as an apology. And by just a touch, I mean almost double the length of both previous chapters<3)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.Keep reading

~/\~

Since that day, my life, or afterlife I suppose, has been relatively simple. When I'm not resting in the garden, I'm running small errands for Michael. It's easy enough to avoid recognition here, but for the sake of my peace of mind, I wear a cloaking spell whenever I'm out. Simeon agreed not to tell anybody about my presence, and in exchange, he asked that I let him join me on my errands, even if he doesn't recognize me. He claims I could have any face in all three realms, and my presence would still bring him comfort. Sometimes he brings me updates on how the others are doing. Usually, he talks about Luke and his growth. He often avoids talking about the Devildom, and whether that's because he doesn't want to upset me or because he simply can't face them knowing what he knows, I've yet to figure out. It's a nice thought, him trying not to remind me of the best part of my life. But it's not overly helpful, given that, even if physical representations of our bonds weren't burned into my skin, everything I do reminds me of them anyway. I know it's selfish of me to make him keep my secret. But to be fair, I decided nearly a year ago that I am an inherently selfish creature, and I've come to terms with it.

Now that I'm on my own, things are easier. Nobody relies on me for much more than fetching papers or goods, and any failures that occur are mine to handle alone. It's simple. It's lonely. But it's simple. And it's good.

I suppose all good things must come to an end though. As I follow my long-since memorized path through the Celestial Palace, I can't help but wonder why I've been summoned. Usually, if Michael has a task for me, he simply brings it to me. But today he asked I meet him in the throne room, so here I am.

I'm greeted as soon as I swing open the door. "MC! Thank you for coming so quickly."

I'm nearly caught off guard by the use of my real name in public. For the sake of secrecy, Michael and Simeon have taken to calling me a fake name for the duration of my stay here.

"How can I help?" I nod as I close the door behind me. I take notice of Simeon's presence and he looks nervous. Never a good sign.

"I have some paperwork I need run to the Devildom. Usually I'd send Simeon, but I need him for another task today and this is rather urgent." Michael grins at me, likely in an attempt to sweeten the plan he's certain I would protest if given the chance.

I'm nearly nauseous at the idea of it. "You're joking, right? I mean this so genuinely, have you lost it?"

There's a flash of amusement on his face before he responds, "I would never make light of your trauma, no I am not joking. You have your cloaking spell, and all you need to do is hand the papers over to Barbatos. Maybe if he's busy, you'll have to hand them to Lord Diavolo himself. But then you can just come straight back. Simple and easy."

I stare at him, dead eyed and confused. "Yeah, seems super simple." I groan, sarcasm laced in every letter. "There's no getting out of this, is there?" I glance desperately at Simeon who seems to have loosened some of the tension in his spine at my pseudo acceptance of the whole ordeal. He shakes his head.

"Fine." I sigh. "Open'r up." with a lazy wave of my arm.

Michael nods, same fatherly grin plastered on his face as always. I'm sure he's convinced he's won some sort of mental battle, and maybe he has. Either way, he summons the portal, and I steal my nerves to step through. "I'm getting two days off when I get back." I call, lunging through the portal.

On the other side, I take a quick moment to make sure my cloaking spell hasn't warn off before looking around. I'm right where I had assumed I'd be. The courtyard's grand arches and elegant gazebo bring a chilly feeling of recognition to the back of my mind. How many gallas and celebrations had I spent out here, in search of some form of peace from the hustle and bustle? How many times had I stumbled upon Levi, or him upon me, in search of the same thing? I think for a moment that I wouldn't mind him stumbling upon me now.

I shake the thought from my mind as quickly as it occurs. Just deliver the paperwork.

I begin the path to the castle without a thought. The trail ingrained into my very psyche. I almost laugh at the thought. I abandoned this place, yet it never left me. What is it Djo said about men and cities?

I never allowed myself to dwell on it from the comfort of Michael's garden, but God did I miss the sky here. Something about the ever present swirling of purples and blues splashed across the stars is purely... divine. Not to say that the Celestial realm wasn't stunning. But there was always this sense of perfectionism, even in the natural landscape. It never felt right to me. Not like this at least. This has always been chaotic, but in the way a toddler helping in the kitchen is chaotic. Sure, shit's a mess and you're near certain it's going to end poorly, but if you take just a moment to watch it unfold, there's beauty in it.

I wish I could have been reborn as a demon.

No. No I don't. Living out the rest of my days, infinite as they may be, facing them with my own selfishness. I'm sure it would kill me a second time.

I'm utterly lost in thought and the view of the sky as I follow the path. So much so, I nearly miss the tail swishing on the ground in front of me. Luckily for me, it bats my ankle gently before I manage to step on it. Double luck, the contact doesn't wake it's sleeping owner.

Belphegor snores softly in the grass next to the path, curled up with his back to me. Something in me instinctively wants to curl up with him, but I know I can't. So instead, I sit. Divine garb be damned, I'm sitting on the dirt, watching him sleep. I consider making a run for it, but the subtle pull he's always had keeps me calm and still. Even in his sleep, even with our pact burned away, his presence still lulls me like a child.

I shake my head as if I were actually dozing off. Was I? Regardless, I stand up, settling to move him out of the trail, just a little. For the sake of the hazard he poses to himself and others. He's as warm as I remember as I press him further into the grass, tucking his tail over his leg before quickly stepping away and back to my task.

A warm feeling I can just barely remember washes over me and stops me in my tracks. How could I, after over a year away, fall so quickly back into routine. Not only how could I, but how dare I? I made my decision, and I've got no right to just wander in here and return to my position, doting and fawning over them. I truly am a selfish creature.

I tried to explain it to them, time and time again. But they simply refused to believe me. I cared so much, not because of them, but because I needed to. I needed to care for them to feel useful. Asmodeus once told me that I was a "pleasure sub". I told him I was willing to rip my own heart out to please him, but mostly because i never much cared for it anyway.

(As always, thank you soooo much for reading. If you'd like to be tagged in future uploads, please comment to be added to the list!)

-Your Friend, The Author

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Young and Beautiful

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) x Reader

Synopsis: DS Y/N Warner uses DI Alec Hardy’s flat for some late night work

Word Count: 4890

Tags: fem!reader, fluff, smut, praise, sweet, very sweet smut, if your name is Becca look away

She didn't even bother to knock, not knowing or caring if he was in, she just slid open his sliding glass door and let herself inside. Then she plopped the case files on his sofa, pushed his coffee table to the side, and laid them all out in front of in her. He'd come round about an hour later, when all the papers lie in their own stacks across his rug, Y/N in the middle eating a slice of toast with a wild look in her eyes.

"Warner, what're you doing here?"

"There's something we're missing, there has to be, and I'm so close to it!" She said, her baby hairs frizzing wildly as her hair came loose from her ponytail. She either didn't care or didn't notice as she stood up, a paper in hand. DI Alec Hardy stood in his own doorway, flabbergasted to his DS rambling in his room at half past 4am. "I think it has to do with Aaron, it's got to be. His alibi doesn't make sense, he won't tell us where he was, and he knew Sophia well enough. At least more than some of the other persons of interest. I've tracked down the local cab company and one of the drivers says he remembers giving a bloke a ride late that night, said the lad was proper out of breath and not exactly chatty. I've already got him lined up to come in tomorrow for more information. As for the trace amounts of DNA in the victims mouth we don't have a match yet but the lab did say it wasn't as disintegrated as they'd initially thought which gives me hope! I've got -" 

"Warner!" Hardy shouted, interrupting her speech. "What the hell are you doing in my house half past 4?"

She gestured around her as though it should be obvious, "working."

"And you can't do that at your own flat?"

She giggled, and continued to ramble. When she was really tired, like proper one second away from passing out tired, like she was now, she couldn't shut up. It didn't matter if the person she was talking to didn't want to hear it or wasn't listening or couldn't hear it - having a deaf cousin worked to her favor in these instances - she would continue to prattle on about what she needed to, "no. My roommate's got her boyfriend over and they were proper loud. Could practically hear the bed rattling, and it wasn't doing me any good. You don't sleep anyway so I figured I could use the space to lay it out. I didn't think you'd not be home. Why're you dressed nice? Did you come from a date? Is that what this is? Is there some woman waiting outside?"

"No!" DI Hardy looked halfway offended at the suggestion. "I've just got back from work. Was gonna make a cuppa then keep going til you showed up."

She squealed and went for something on the floor, lifting it up then crawling to a different paper,"I take two sugars."

"I know your bloody order. Shouldn't you go and sleep?"

She waved a hand, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. What I really need is for the world to be open 24/7. If I could only call this bloke right now and half my questions could be answered. You know my order? That's sweet."

He scoffed, "it's not unique. Warner, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uhh, I slept a few hours on Tuesday. Why do you look all high and mighty? You don't sleep either, don't eat. You're practically a miserable little skeleton carting your life way through life."

"I am not -" he stopped taking. Partially because she hadn't stopped either, continuing to chatter about whatever her heart desired. And partly because he didn't know if he was going to refute the miserable part, the little part, or the skeleton part. Or if he even could refute it. He snorted, well he wasn't little. He was over 6 foot. And he could eat more, he knew that. But he often forgot about food until he had to.

"I know a fellow who took nine sugars. Can you imagine that! Nine sugars! You're drinking piss flavored juice at that point. Pardon mh French, sir. He was very strange... called himself Witchfinder as though you couldn't search on the web magic shops. Maybe we should start calling ourselves Crimefinders. Criminalfinders? That doesn't roll off the tongue, now does it?"

DI Hardy realized Y/N wasn't going to answer any of his questions in this state, so he shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea. He took his coat off, tossing it on whatever available counter space there was with a yawn. He wanted to sleep, knew he probably had to, but he'd probably dream of something he didn't want to dream about. Lately it'd been odd mental pictures of his coworkers all hurt, Y/N choked, Ellie crying, hell even Brian made the scene with a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know why he had these thoughts, he'd never considered himself a particularly caring individual over his coworkers. But it had haunted him off from sleep for the foreseeable future.

He made two cups of tea, disposing two sugars into Warner's as she said. Then he walked back over to his living room and sat down, elbows on his knees as he scanned her work.

"Thank you!" She said, grabbing her mug and take a large gulp of it. "What do you think of this, sir? He doesn't strike me right. Can't place it."

"The name is familiar," Hardy admitted. He went to his laptop and started typing away, trying to place the name. "Ah, he's been arrested for aggravated assault. Both charges dropped, looks like some brawls in the pubs."

"I s'pose that doesn't suggest he murdered a girl."

"Doesn't rule him out either, if he's willing to punch a stranger in a pub what would he do to someone he knows?"

She giggled and scrambled for her pencil, "I should write that down for my novel!"

"You're writing a novel?"

"Mmhmm, started it tonight. 'Adventures of Harner and Wardy.'"

Alec set his mug down, and took hers from her hand as well. "Alright, time for bed now."

"What? No! I've got more novel to write and crime to solve! We've not even started discussing the potential that Louise is lying about her husband's alibi. I mean really? She says he binged Big Bang Theory with her all night and I'm all for binging telly but of all the shows you choose that one? The laugh track is funnier than the actual show half the time - is this your bedroom?"

Hardy had helped Y/N to her feet and led her to his bedroom in the back. She was still rambling about the most irrelevant things when he guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn't often make it, so he was glad to note that it was done up well. Warner hadn't slept in almost a full 48 hours and he knew that even with a brain as sharp as hers, it was dull as Katie's without sleep. He got on his knees before her, carefully untying her shoes and sliding them off her feet. He put them by the door and helped her out of her coat jacket.

"What're you doing?" She finally asked as he hung the jacket on the back of the door. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? I -"

"Because if you are hitting on me that's totally okay, but I should warn you I'm getting sleepy so I might not be the best lay. But you are proper good looking so I wouldn't say no." She made a face, "my boss wouldn't like that would he? Noooo, can't call someone proper good looking. I'm not trying to be a knob, just communicating that you've got no problems in the looks department. None, like ever. Personality maybe but you took my shoes off for me so that gets you at least a few brownie points."

Alec felt like he was malfunctioning, his arm stuck out, frozen midair from her words. She just called him attractive. And not just good looking, but good looking enough she'd want to sleep with him! He'd never been used to such straight forward compliments and didn't quite know if he believed it. So he just worked on autopilot, helping tuck her into bed.

"Go to sleep, Warner." He flicked off the lights and closed the door. What the hell. What the hell. Alec blinked rapidly like that would make any of what just happened make any sense at all.

He stood awkwardly outside the door of the bedroom. Should he - is he- what's the proper procedure with this? He should know, he was married once, had enough sex to have a child! But it seemed all that knowledge left the moment Claire stole back the pendant, fizzling his marriage, his life, his career. Now he was left taking uneven breaths as the sun crept up, an employee who's attracted to him sleeping in his bed after 40+ hours of not sleeping.

He found himself back at his laptop, slowly typing out what to do when someone admits to fancying you. But the results were not his thing, videos of very forward men and women moving very quickly into other actions. Alec was not opposed to the action, sex. But he couldn't fathom how to get there. So he sat in his kitchen drinking old tea, and staring at his door.

An hour later he crept in to grab a different tie for work, and saw Y/N completely passed out. She was curled in a ball, cradling his pillow and lightly snoring. She looked content. It made him smile against his better judgment. He left her in there, scribbling a note on a piece of paper he taped to the bedroom door before he left for the station.

Y/N Warner woke up nearly 12 hours later. It was practically dark when she opened her eyes. She blinked away the sleep that threatened to creep in around the corners of her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows to survey the scene around her. She didn't recognize the room she was in, blank walls and bland sheets. There was no personality to it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten a hotel room and just had no memory of it.

Then she smelt a familiar, faint scent. She couldn't place it or really describe it other than she liked it, it was warm. Stupidly, she let her face fall into the pillow to inhale the scent. Oh my god.

She shot up quickly, realizing where she was. The memories of last night flooded her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit." A hand flew to her brow as she tried to process. She'd come here to work because her roommate was fucking her boyfriend into the oblivion. DI Hardy came back, made her a cuppa. She wouldn't shut up, kept rambling about the Big Bang Theory (why?) and Witchfinders (how?) before he guided her here. Then she - "no." She said audibly, she did not make a pass at DI Hardy in his bed, late at night and practically drunk on exhaustion. Her eyes flit around the room before landing on the one piece of decoration, a framed photo of Hardy and Daisy, his daughter. "No." She said again, as though it could stop her ramblings.

Y/N rushed out of the bed, scrambling to find her shoes before she saw them neatly lying next to the door. She was usually very professional, if not a little eccentric. But no one could fault you for being a lot when you were good at your job and solved cases. She brought justice to people, she knew she did. And she might have risked it all because she worked herself too far and hit on her boss. Regardless of how stupid attractive he was, that was still work place harassment.

She shoved her shoes on, forced her arms into the holes of her suit jacket and ambled out into his living space. There were papers everywhere. They covered the floor like a new rug, slouched over the chairs and clung to the walls by hall dead pieces of tape. She looked for her mobile, patting her pockets. Shit, she must have left it in the bedroom. When she turned she spotted a note on the door.

'At the office. Feel free to not come in.'

Oh she was dead. She'd lost her job forever, she would never work again. This stupid blasted career she'd worked so hard on gone.

She ran back and found her mobile among the sheets, shoved it into her pocket and ran to leave the home. Then DI Hardy stood awkwardly at the front door, bags of Chinese hanging from his hands and a weird not grimace not smile expression. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he didn't want to kill her. Good news, right?

"Sir, I am so sorry about last night-"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand, coming in to set the food on the counter. He got a lot of it.

"No, I can't not worry about it. I came into your home, made a mess, took your bed and propositioned you-"

"Warner, we've arrested a man for the murder of Sophia Garcia. It was Aaron Baker, his dad's golf clubs, just like you'd said."

Her mouth fell open, "shit, really?"

Alec gestured to the mess of papers while he spoke, "you'd mentioned something about the cabbie last night. When I went in I gave them a ring, and while there was a driver who picked up a grumpy lad it wasn't Aaron. Sounds like a Christie book but it was his twin. Aaron was cross town cleaning up the scene."

"Not good enough," Y/N said softly.

Alec nodded, "not good enough."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said again, her voice still quiet and meek.

He didn't answer her, just stared for a beat before gesturing to the food, "I didn't know what you liked so I bought two of everything."

"All this is for me?"

"You solved the case, Warner."

She shook her head, "I ... you let me sleep in your bed? I ransacked your house, I propositioned you, and you let me sleep and brought me food?"

Alec scratched the back of his neck. He did not like how often Y/N asked questions. It stressed him out, like he had to have an immediate answer to every single one when he figured his actions spoke. But she looked so confused. He just gestured to the food and went to grab plates.

She sat down in surprise, blinking quickly as she watched him come over. "Just a, uh, an egg roll and cho mein please."

He nodded and shoved two of both onto her plate before giving it to her. He didn't put anything on his plate. Y/N sighed and scraped off half of hers onto his.

"Eat, sir. Please."

He blinked, "wot?"

"I've known you for years and never seen you eat. Just eat the egg roll."

He stared at the greasy food. He can't eat that, he thought and was about to say as much when she shot him a dirty look. Tentatively, Alec took a bite of it. He cringed, he didn't quite love the taste but Y/N seemed pleased he was eating so he finished it off just for her.

When they both finished he cleaned up, and she stayed seated. Then he moved past her to the bedroom, undoing his tie and tossing it, along with his jacket, onto a chair in the corner. He started to roll his sleeves up round his elbows when Y/N waited by the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"No need-"

"Let me. Thank you, sir. For the food and the sleep and, uh, well thank you for everything."

"Of course, Warner. I take care of my people." Not typically this much care, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. He focused on sliding off his shoes, shoving them out of his sight.

Alec jumped - well, Alec never really jumped just blinked harshly and cocked the one eyebrow - in surprise. Y/N was now closer to him, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. She was shorter than he remembered.

"I-If I may, sir?" She asked, lifting a hand.

He had a feeling he knew what she was asking, but didn't know for certain. But all the same he nodded. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, going onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He hadn't been kissed in a long time, and the surprise of her initiating it made him stand there and accept her soft lips against his. When she broke, he could see the fear in her eyes as though she had done something wrong. Alec hadn't kissed in a while, and he felt the anxiety creep in that he didn't remember how. But the look in her eyes made it worth the fear.

He plunged forward, grabbing the back of her neck gently while his other hand came to cradle her jaw. Her skin was soft under his touch, melting as he held her. Y/N's hands came up to hold his jaw, scruffy and itchy in the most delightful way. Her mouth melded with his as his tongue licked along her bottom lip.

She cherished the way his jaw scratched against hers slightly, sighing when he broke to trail soft kisses down her jaw and the length of her neck. The scratch was enough to make her giggle like a schoolgirl, holding his shoulders. He shot back up, hair slightly wild but nothing compared to his eyes as he looked into hers deeply. He needed to be absolutely certain. There was no time for messing about and hurting anyone.

She smiled. He was so handsome to her, but in an understated way. She took the moment to run a finger on his sculpted jawline, along his freckled cheeks and down his crooked nose. No, not everyone might look at those features and call it handsome. But to her, he was everything. Smart, kind, and good-looking as sin. Her finger fell upon his lips, slightly open and let out harsh breaths as he searched her eyes desperately. Alec always wished he could read expressions better, he was terrified he'd make the wrong decision somewhere down the line.

But Y/N smiled, and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before taking a step back. Then she toed off her own shoes, shucked off her own jacket, and began to undress.

He followed her lead, removing his shirt and pants. Eventually, they both stood in front of one another naked. Y/N felt that pang of anxiety in her chest at being bare in front of a man. She'd made it very clear to Alec that she found him to be hotter than hell, but did he feel that way about her? She wasn't ugly, she knew that, but she wasn't a showstopper.

And yes, she could see the surprisingly length of him hardening before him. But didn't every man get hard when sex was on the table?

Alec came forward and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her forward as his eyes took in every inch of her. He ran a hand along her stomach - an insecure area for her - and up between her breasts, before settling it on the base of her neck. The simple action left her breathless.

His eyes were still on her body before he brought them up to hers. She was struck by how deep his were, how warm and brown, they seemed to go on forever.

"Look at you," he said hoarsely, his accent suddenly get thicker. "You're gorgeous."

"You think so?" She felt stupid asking it. She should be confident, she should pose seductively and tell him to strap in the way girls do on the telly. But this felt real and raw, and raw didn't shy away from the insecurities. Insecurities laced with cellulite and hair, parts that feel too pudgy there and too concave there. Never quite where it needs to be, never "ugly" enough for the world to tell you you have a right to complain.

"'Course. 'Course, look at you. You think I'm g-good too?" He asked back.

Y/N smiled, "thank you for saying that, most men don't."

"Don't they?" Alec asked in surprise, figuring that was just a part of the experience.

She shook her head and let her gaze trace along his body as well. He was lean and tall, with thin legs and arms wrapped in gentle muscle. His stomach was slightly pouchy and soft, beneath it his length was already hard at the sight of her. She ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest, mimicking his actions, and let it stay on his heart. Beneath her touch it thumped violently. Then she looked up to see his face, her favorite feature. His eyes were warm and gentle even when they didn't mean to be. "All of you is handsome to me, all of you."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, "you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And if it isn't too crass to say, I'd fuck every inch of you."

It was too crass to say, and even a little cheesy, but it made her blossom with a smile. She threw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into one of his all encompassing kisses she was starting to like the taste of too much. Alec's lips were firm but not overpowering as they engulfed her, setting a tingle from her toes all the way up to her head in a heady giggle. His hands held onto her waist, grasping the flesh there with a sweet intensity. His lips parted with a deep groan.

She walked backwards to the bed, leading Alec until he was over her. His arms were poised by her head, his neck brought down as he peppered open mouth kisses along her neck. She laughed lightly at his scruffy beard, moaning when his lips found the spot between her neck and shoulder that shot straight through her. Y/N writhed under his touch, heat searing her skin. His hands were everywhere, branding her, skating up her waist to grab a handful of her breast, down her back to cup her bum, and feather like fingers traveling over the top of her thighs to the place in between. She gasped as he ran a finger down her slit.

"So wet..." he murmured, not expecting her to be so aroused by him. He'd barely done anything for her, hadn't touched down there at all. Yet she was slick to the touch, heat and arousal. Alec loved the way her chest flushed, her eyes closed tightly as she savored his touch on her skin.

He ran his fingers down, keeping his touch light as he experimentally nudged around. When he found her clit she gasped, her whole body tensing and focusing on the nerves right there against his finger.

"So responsive," he murmured, starting to work gently against her clit as she took shaking, uneven breaths. Alec went to speak again, then stopped. Tess never liked when he spoke in bed, said it distracted her from her climax. So he'd learned to stay silent and focus on his partner's body, her mouth as she fought her body's reaction to grind violently against his fingers. He kissed her sternum, biting at the flesh gingerly. Despite himself, Alec growled into her as she bucked her hips to meet his ministrations.

"Keep talking," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Wot?" Alec asked, taken aback.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes heady with need, "your voice is hot. If it's okay to ask, please keep talking, sir."

Alec grinned his charming, crooked smile. He bent down to kiss along her stomach as he quickened his pace on his clit, driving her faster to a climax then she was used to. That deep Scottish voice rang our praises, some loud enough that she could hear them and clench her thighs, others murmurs against her flesh that made her head feel light and airy. She giggled at the thought of all the beard rash she'd have along her body from him. All the same he told her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was, how lovely she looked squirming underneath him.

Then, as her back began to arch and she could feel the orgasm just a hair's breadth away, he stilled. Y/N whined. Actually felt herself whine in protest. He chuckled, clearly meaning to edge her, using his large hands to keep her legs wide open.

"A-are you ready?" Alec asked, his usual confidence lost to the arousal he was trying to keep at bay for her. His hands were large and warm, holding onto the space between her hips and thighs with a firm yet gentle touch.

Y/N's eyes gazed down to his cock, hard and ready. It looked about ready to burst, but Alec squeezed her thighs to look up into his eyes. They were warm and kind. Asking for consent even in a position like this. It made her all the more sure of her answer.

She reached up for his face, grabbing his jaw and planting a warm kiss on his mouth as he started to guide himself inside of her. He was slow, letting her gasp and adjust to the length inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. Alec paused. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, pulsing desperately for friction.

She nodded, kissing Alec again. She'd never had a kiss like that, so strong and comforting. Kisses were never her thing, she hadn't understood the fuss over them. Just two sets of lips pressed against one another, the taste of the day infecting it. But with Alec it was more than the cho mein or egg rolls, and it was more than chapped lips pressed against one another. It was full of desire, trying to communicate all that words couldn't. She drank it in fully, gasping against him as he started to move inside of her.

Alec was bigger than she expected and bigger than he was used to, and she wiggled her hips to the feeling of being stretched so full like that. He cherished the feeling of her gasps and moans, dipping to kiss every inch of skin near him.

"So beautiful, so gorgeous..." he thrusted in quickly this time and saw her body tense from surprise. "You're taking me beautifully, Angel."

Y/N could listen to his voice all day. Even before she realized he was far from an ugly bloke, she fancied the way his voice poured over her in sexy waves. Deep, guttural, it was honest and raw. He didn't lie, he didn't cover it with some pretense to be sexy. Even when his voice would break, small gasps from the sensations breaking up his sentences, she found it all the better.

Alec leaned back, not wanting to stop kissing her not wanting to miss the view. He'd pulled her hips down to the edge of the bed, him standing and her legs spread wide and resting on the small of his back. With a gentle pace that started to grow more desperate he thrust into her, watching her body flush and squirm beneath him. Y/N threw her arms up, arching her back to take him deeper. Alec was enamored with the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he grumbled, snaking a hand down to stroke her clit. He could feel that he wasn't going to last as long as he would have liked, but by the way Y/N let out little moans by his feather light touch, he figured she didn't mind all that much.

Y/N was in her own world, feeling his voice slide off her skin like oil as she chased her high. His denial of her orgasm earlier made this one all the more powerful. It seemed to slam into her, causing her to gasp wildly as Alec kept firm ministrations on her clit. Then he too reached his climax, grunting in a low voice before pouring out in a shocking spurt.

Then he pulled out, falling beside her as they both gasped for breath. Y/N quickly ambled out of the bed and used the restroom before she came back in, feeling like her limbs were absolute jelly. Alec brought her back to the bed, laying next to her. His hand held hers, thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

"That was incredible," he finally said.

"You could say that again."

"That was incredible." They both paused, turning to look at one another, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

[runnning-outof-time]

Love, I Just Need to See | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: In which Tommy needs glasses and (Y/N) has an opinion about every type of frame that's offered.

Warnings: language, smoking

Word Count: 2281

A/N: this was just a fun request to write...I think it’s one of my favorite stories of mine. Oh to be doing domestic things with Tommy Shelby *sigh*. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories that are similar to this one!

(Y/N) was able to hear the sounds of frustrated mumbling coming from inside Tommy's office as she walked past its slightly ajar door. "Tom?" she questioned as she peered her head in. Squinting her eyes to try to get them to adjust to the dim lighting of the room, she was able to make out that he was sitting at his desk.

"Yes?" he asked as he looked up from his papers, surprise clear on his face. He wasn't expecting her to be at his door.

"Everything ok?" she asked, taking his response as her ok to enter the room. If he hadn't wanted her in there, he would have told her to leave.

"Yes. I, uh..." he paused, his eyes glancing around his desk as he tried to find what he was looking for, "I'm just having a hard time balancing the logs is all," he admitted to her.

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows as she walked even further into the room. Once at his desk, she extended her hand and waved her fingers at him, her nonverbal way of asking him for what he was working on. He understood and neatly compiled the papers before handing them over to her. "Doctor said that you shouldn't be overworking yourself like this," she commented as she looked over the work he'd done so far.

"Yeah? Well fuck what the doctor says," Tommy grumbled, focusing himself on lighting a cigarette before he looked at her once more. (Y/N) sighed at his response, knowing that she should've expected something along those lines. But she tried anyway, wanting the best for her husband and his health.

"I think I know what your problem is," she announced after a few minutes had passed.

"What's that?" he inquired, his eyebrows raised.

"Your numbers are wrong," she told him, glancing up in time to see his face fill with confusion.

"That's impossible," Tommy shook his head, not wanting to believe that something like that would be the cause of the error.

"It's what's wrong," (Y/N) insisted as she moved around the desk so that she could be standing right next to his chair. "See, lookit...you've got 119 pounds listed here on the intake and then, for the same day's totals, you've written 109 pounds. You're never going to get the correct numbers if you don't have them consistent everywhere," she explained, glancing over at him before she trained her eyes on the books once more. "Do you have the initial papers you've copied this off of?" she asked then. Tommy nodded his head. "Can I see them?" was her next request. Silently, he grabbed them from his pile and handed them to her. It only took her a few moments to find yet another problem: "these aren't even the correct numbers, Tommy."

"What do you mean?" he questioned, his brows deeply furrowed as he took the paper back from her and then looked between it and the log on his desk.

"What day are you doing the totals for?" she asked him.

"Thursday."

"And what day does that say on the paper?" was her next question.

"Thursday," he responded with confidence, but (Y/N) shook her head.

"That says Tuesday, love," she corrected him before pointing to the paper in his hands, "see? T-U-E-S..."

"I know how to fuckin' spell, alright?" he cut her off with aggrivation in his tone.

"Then why don't you have the days right?" she asked him, not realizing how accusatory her question sounded until she said it.

Tommy inhaled deeply and then exhaled his breath in a long sigh. "It's because the words are blurry," he answered, his voice coming out in a low mumble.

"What's that?" she asked for him to repeat what he'd said.

"I can't tell what's what because the words on the fucking paper are blurry, ok?" he repeated himself, his words stressed and his agitation evident.

"Ok," she nodded, agreeing with him in a soft voice. She wanted to say that she was shocked by his admission, but honestly, she was expecting something like this to happen. He did just come back from his extended hospital stay, where he suffered a cracked skull and internal bleeding around his brain, among other injuries. The fact that he didn’t have many lingering effects or problems from it surprised her greatly.

Tommy sighed again and dropped the paper onto the desk before he ran his hands through his hair. He then dropped his face into his hands as his elbows rested on the desktop. "What am I supposed to do now, eh?" he finally questioned after a few moments of silence had passed. He then looked up at (Y/N) with an expression on his face that gripped at her heart. She'd only seen Tommy Shelby's desperation a handful of times, and a similar reaction was elicited from each.

"Well..." she trailed off as she sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, "I suppose we should take a trip to an optometrist," she suggested.

Tommy nodded silently as he took in what she had to say. It was pretty obvious to him that he needed to seek help with his vision problem. It was impeding on his ability, which in turn made him extremely frustrated. "Ok," he agreed with her, nodding once more, "I know someone who probably has a person he goes to. I can ask him who he'd recommend for me," he then laid out his plan for getting this problem fixed.

"Good. I suggest that you get it done as soon as possible," (Y/N) was happy to hear that he was willing to get some help with this issue.

"I will," he assured her, "but for now, can you help me with these logs so that I can get them finished for tonight?"

She agreed to his request within seconds. "Of course, Tom. I'd be happy to help," she answered with a smile before she managed to drag one of the empty chairs over to his desk so that she could sit and help him finish his work.

"I've got that appointment today," Tommy mentioned as he entered the sitting room (Y/N) was occupying.

"For your eyes?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes," he nodded, chuckling slightly at her obvious intrigue.

"Oh, that's great," (Y/N) said with a smile before an idea came to mind. "Say, can I come with you, Tommy?"

"For what?" he was confused. In his mind, a trip to a doctor's office seemed like a bore.

“Because I want to be there when you pick out your glasses,” a smile formed on her face as she spoke.

“And you’re so sure that I’ll need glasses?” Tommy shot back.

She sent him an ‘are you serious?’ look as an initial response to his question. “I think that was made pretty obvious the other day,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Tommy shook his head as he tried to stop the smile from forming on his face. “Can I, Tommy...please?” she asked him again, putting on her best ‘puppy dog pout’.

“Fine,” he agreed to her ask after taking less than a minute to contemplate it. What bad could come out of his wife attending his appointment with him?

(Y/N) jumped off of the couch with a newfound excitement, and she quickly ran into the foyer to ask Mary to grab her coat and purse. Soon enough, she was ready to go, and Tommy had met her outside in the car that he brought around.

Tommy quickly realized that something bad could come from his wife attending his appointment.

“What about these frames, Mrs. Shelby?” the doctor asked as he came in with yet another option to look at. After about the fourth time, he stopped asking Tommy and decided to begin appeasing the woman in the room.

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she examined the thicker-framed glasses that held an oval-shaped lens in the middle. She then held them up to Tommy, who wordlessly tried them on without having to be asked to. She then tapped her chin as she stared at him for a few moments. “I don’t like these either. They’re too bulky,” she finally gave her opinion, her words simultaneously making Tommy sigh and the doctor nod profusely.

“That’s just what I was thinking...I couldn’t see such a stately man wearing lenses like these. I’ll go see what else I have in stock,” the doctor was quick to agree with the woman, and Tommy silently cursed him for egging her on. He then quickly hurried out of the room to get another pair. Soon enough, he was back with more options. This time he held two in his hands. “I brought both sizes of these. Let’s see what you think,” he said as he sat them down on the desk.

(Y/N) grabbed the first pair and looked them over. The frame was thin and gold and it once again held ovalic lenses. “Try these on,” she told Tommy before handing them over to him. Tommy nodded and went through the motions of placing the glasses on his face. Once again, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she took in his appearance. “No...I think they make you look like Scrooge from that one Christmas book,” she gave her opinion on it, her words making Tommy sigh.

“I don’t care about what they look like on me, love, I just need to see,” he finally voiced his exasperation, effectively showing her that his patience was running thin.

“I’m the one who’s gotta look at you though, so I’d at least like to find something that suits you well,” she challenged his statement, her words making him exhale a sigh. He knew that this would be a losing battle for him, so he just kept his mouth shut. “Try these on,” she told him then, raising a pair that looked almost identical to the last up for him to look at. The only thing that had been changed was that the lenses were smaller and circular.

“How are they, Mrs. Shelby?” the doctor then asked after it’d been quiet for a few moments. He was eagerly awaiting her opinion on the frames.

“I like these,” she said, nodding her head slightly before she doubled down on her statement: “yes. These are the ones you should get, Tommy.”

“Finally,” Tommy let out a breath of relief at the fact that the trying-on portion of the appointment was over before he turned to the doctor, “I’ll take these.”

“Very good choice, Mr. Shelby. I’ll have those made in the proper specifications as soon as possible for you,” the doctor nodded his head, a pleased smile on his face. “You’re free to go now,” he then told the couple before he stood from his chair and shook both of their hands.

The rest of the day passed by without further talk of the glasses that Tommy would now be using. It wasn’t until he entered their bedroom for the night that (Y/N) decided to bring them up once more.

“Are you excited about your new glasses?” she asked him from behind her book as he got himself changed into what he’d be wearing to bed.

“What kind of question is that?” he responded with a question of his own, his words holding no malice or condescending tone, “of course I’m excited to be able to read properly again,” he blatantly stated, his vocal tone making (Y/N) giggle.

“No, I mean are you excited about how they look?” she specified her question once her giggles had subsided.

“I honestly don’t care what they look like, love,” he gave her his honest response as he got into his side of the bed, “I just needed to be able to see.”

(Y/N) frowned slightly at the absence of desire he had to talk about the topic. She leaned over and set her book down on the nightstand before looking back at him again. “I think you looked really good with the glasses on,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone as a grin formed on her lips. “I didn’t think that anyone would be able to make frames like that look attractive, but you certainly did.”

“Yeah?” he asked, certainly amused by her sudden statements.

“Oh yes,” she answered, then rolling onto her side so that she’d be closer to him. “You made all of those frames look attractive, but this pair....this pair is special.”

“Well I’m glad that you think that,” he grinned at her as his arm wrapped around her from underneath, making her move even closer to his chest.

“And just when I thought that you couldn’t get any more perfect...” she trailed off, placing her hand flat against his chest so that she could sit up slightly. Her grin widened as she leaned down so that her face was closer to his, “I can’t wait until you get them delivered so that I get to see them on your handsome face again,” she whispered against his lips before she closed the gap and kissed them.

Tommy only exuded a chuckle in between the kisses she was giving him. He had a quick-witted, cheeky comeback prepared to give her, but it got lost in the feeling of her lips dancing across the skin of his jawline. So he decided to let her keep going, already knowing that her affection towards him would be increasing tenfold the moment that he was wearing those glasses again.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicallovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75

MASTERLIST

[alovesongtheywrote]

Heyyyy I just read Nightmare Academia, and I LOOOOVE IT!!! You're such a talented writer!! 🩷🩷🩷

♥ Summary: I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying the fic :D In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, your author presents you a series of vignettes about you and Reid sharing an office. In other words- you and Reid share an office. Shenanigans ensue.

♥ Warnings: none? that i'm aware of?

♥ A/N: heyyyyy, what's uppppp, it's meeee. sorry this fic took 20 years, lmao. finals hit, im sure you understand. ANYWAY, enjoy the chapter. it's like, 3,000 words, i hope that makes up for it lol

♥ Word Count: 3,336

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Working out of Spencer’s office was strange.  It wasn’t difficult, as one might expect.  You did not struggle to exist in the confines of that office- if anything, the opposite was true.  Working with Spencer was easy.  Being in his space and working by his side was as easy as breathing.  Despite the pranks, the general bitchiness, and your lingering guilt after the stabbing incident, you and Spencer were a good team.  You could put aside your feelings and get work done when it mattered.  

It was all very fucking weird.

That said, when it didn’t matter, absolutely no constructive work could be completed within your office.  By inviting you into his space, Spencer had unlocked a new universe of pranks for you.  You knew the password to his computer.  You had the key to every cabinet.  Everything you could ever dream of stealing was within reach.

You behaved accordingly.

-

Where most normal laptop-havers set their desktop images to pictures of family, friends, and/or big-tittied anime girls, Spencer left his desktop image on the factory setting.  It was the same default shit that came with any piece of new tech- but this hunk of metal and wire wasn’t new.   He’d had it for years and it was still the same image.  Boring.  Blank.  Impersonal and unrevealing.  Honestly, you weren’t sure if Spencer knew he could change the image, but that didn’t really matter.  Whether or not he knew, you would take the liberty of changing it for him.

You had to move quickly and strike carefully.  Despite being a technophobe, Reid wasn’t the type to leave his shit lying around.  You had to wait patiently for an opportunity, and when one arose, you had to make the most of it.  Spencer Reid would not have a sweet image of capybaras in an onsen.  He would not get a desktop image of sweet sleeping dogs.  That motherfucker would not be on the receiving end of anything wholesome or sweet.

You picked an image in advance.  You waited patiently- and when the window of opportunity finally swung open late one Tuesday afternoon?

You almost missed it.  It wasn’t your fault.  When Reid finally got up and left the room, you were a touch busy stealing one of the books off the shelf behind him.  By the time you noticed he was gone, you’d already placed some horny chunks of text bound by a tasteful cover in its place.

You could hear his footsteps down the hall.  You had to move quickly.

Every inch of your body seemed to crackle with a sort of electricity.  Your heart pounded in your chest, urged by the knowledge that you could be caught any second.  Your fingers raced over the keyboard as you found your chosen image.

When Reid returned to the room, you were back at the bookshelf, scanning the titles and pretending you hadn’t done anything wrong.  It was kind of hard to do when you were staring your smutty novels in the face, but still, you managed.

Your teeth grazed your lip as Spencer stepped into the room.  You could hear him place something on his desk, but you refused to look at him.  His eyes burned holes in the side of your head, you could feel it-

“Here,” he reached out to you, paper cup in hand, “I got you a coffee.”

“What?  How?  Why?” You stuttered out, completely failing to hide your shock.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “Coffee.  With money.  Because it’s late and you’ve been working all day.  You know, the traditional thing to say in this situation is thank you.”

“I- Thank you,” you accepted the coffee, wrapping your hands around it tightly as if you could squeeze out your shame.

He smiled, smug and smarmy.  Your shame immediately dissipated.  This fucker deserved the cursed bullshit you’d set on his screen.

“You’re welcome, (L/N).”

He turned away from you, switching on his laptop and entering his password.  You watched him, silently sipping on your coffee.  It was perfect.  He’d memorized your coffee order.  Of fucking course he had.  That didn’t mean anything, right?  Spencer could memorize anything, it was all a part of the eidetic memory package.  He probably memorized every coffee order of every person he’d ever stood behind in every coffee shop he’d ever been to.  The fact that he knew your order meant-

“GOD-” Spencer pushed back from the desk, almost pushing his office chair right into your leg.  You looked up, a grin crossing your lips as you saw what had caused his outburst.

A hydra-like creature with a long fleshy body, several long slender necks, and multiple Furby-style faces stared out at you from the glowing screen of Spencer’s computer. 

It was the worst thing you could find, a terrible monster from the very depths of the internet- and it had the intended effect!  Spencer glared at his screen with horror and confusion, his face contorted by whatever rush of emotion he felt upon seeing the cursed thing in front of him.  A sense of euphoric joy spread through your body, burning away all the shame and confusion you felt.  

“You really can’t act like an adult for two seconds, can you?”

“Apparently not.  Thank you for the coffee?”

-

Whenever Spencer got on your nerves, you reorganized his files.  You hid folder upon folder of paperwork in the wrong place.  You switched files with other files on purpose.  You didn’t re-label anything- you weren’t a monster- but you did create such a mess that Spencer had to stay late for a few nights.  He didn’t mind, really.  In messing up his files, you had made a little mystery for him to solve.  He liked little mysteries.

Besides, on the nights he had to stay late, you stayed with him.  

On the floor.

That wasn’t too uncommon, honestly.  Reid’s office didn’t come with two desks- therefore, when one of you needed space, the other usually offered to take the floor as their dominion.  Re-arranging files took lots and lots of space, hence, you often found yourself on the ground.

One such late night, you sprawled yourself across the floor and angled your head to get a better view of Reid’s sorting.  His eyes darted across the page at a speed that some would call inhuman.  (You wouldn’t call it inhuman.  You would just call him a speedy boy.)  As he flipped through the papers before him, those eyes of his turned to you.

“Hi!” you greeted, “How goes the search?”

“You know you don’t have to stay late, right?”

“I know!  But I like watching you work.  Besides, the floor is comfortable.”

“I doubt that,” Spencer said, turning back to his sorting, “If you ask me, you’re here because you feel guilty for making me stay late.  I told you it’s fine, I-”

“Yeah, you like a paper trail, I know.  But I promise, Reid, I do not feel guilty.”

“Then maybe you just enjoy my presence?”  He looked back up at you, a shit-eating smirk painted on his face.  You wanted to smack it off of him.  Or maybe kiss it off of him?  However, if you were to kiss it off of him, you would definitely do so with unnecessary aggression.  Perhaps violence.

You let out an unconvincing laugh, “That’s ridiculous.  Be less ridiculous, Reid.”

“I don’t think I’m being ridiculous.  I think you’re in denial, (L/N).”

“Pft, denial.  You’re silly.  You’re a silly little guy,” you stood up, pulling yourself up and brushing yourself off.  You didn’t notice the way Spencer’s eyes followed your every movement, didn’t catch his gaze lingering on the small patch of skin that revealed itself as your shirt rode up.  

He almost snapped his neck when you turned back towards the desk.  He couldn’t let you catch him staring the way he was.

“My dear, dear Spencer Reid, I do not stay with you because I feel bad for making you work late,” you placed your hands on the desk, “Nor do I stay because I enjoy your presence.”

You pulled yourself up onto the desk, perching atop it.  This time, you noticed where Spencer’s gaze went and how it lingered on your thighs.  You had never felt more powerful in your life.  With a smirk, you reached out and placed two fingers beneath his chin, forcing him to look at you.  He took a deep, nervous breath, and you could feel him breathe beneath your fingers.  

“So why-” he choked, “Why do you stay here?  Just to try and flirt with me?”

“No,” you said, objectively flirting with him, “My darling doctor, I stay here because the floor is really fucking comfortable.  And I have work to do.”

His brows drew together as the cutest little pout crossed his face, “I don’t believe you.  There’s no way it’s that simple, I am sure you have an ulterior motive.”

You did.  You had several.  You felt bad for making Spencer work late, and you enjoyed his presence, and above all else, you wanted to make sure he got home safe and un-stabbed.  You weren’t gonna let Spencer know about that, though.

“Aw, pretty boy.  If I have any ulterior motive, it’s that I get to watch you suffer,” you lied.

With a huff, Spencer pulled his face from your grip and returned his focus to the mess you had made for him.  You smiled, but the grin on your face was nothing more than plastic, porcelain, fake material posing as real joy.  

“I still don’t believe you.”

Fucker.

“If you want to live in a world of delusion, that’s your decision.  All I can do is sit here and watch.”

He smirked, “Wow, (L/N).  I never pegged you as a voyeur.”

You responded to his quip like any reasonable mature adult would- you made a little sound and swatted some of the papers off of his desk.  Spencer just smiled and let his eyes move to a new paragraph.

You were going to kill that man.  Not that night, nor the nights that followed, but you were sure.  One of those mother fuckin nights, Reid would meet his end by your hand.  Or maybe by your thighs.

-

Spencer Reid might’ve been a renowned doctor with multiple PhDs, but he still wasn’t smart enough to hide his property from your thieving gremlin hands.  Before you had moved into his cozy little office, your acts of petty theft were limited to small things.  Mugs, for example.  Or books.  Now, though, you had access to all his worldly possessions- or at least all the worldly possessions that he kept in his office.

You’d taken his keys a few times.  The first time you’d done that, he practically kicked down the office door in a panic.  He’d searched the office desperately, throwing papers around and checking every drawer, only stopping when he saw your smiling face.  

The most recent time you took his keys, he’d just sighed and stared at you expectantly, his hand open and waiting.  You were super tempted to lick him, but you held back.  You just gave him back his keys.  

Mugs, books, and keys weren’t the end of it, though.  You stole chess pieces, office supplies, a desk lamp, and at one point, you nabbed one of Spencer’s fucking degrees.  (It was just hanging on the wall, taunting you.  You had to take it.)

Your favourite incident of theft, though, was a scarf.  During the colder months, Spencer usually wore a purple scarf, but this one was different.  He didn’t wear it as frequently- it was long, generally tan with stripes of orange, purple, and green.  The wool that made it up was unbelievably soft beneath your fingers.  You never wanted to let that scarf go.  So you didn’t.

You took it.  

And you kept it.  

You were cold, your neck was scarfless, and he left a lovely soft scarf right in front of you for you to grab.  So you grabbed it.  And you wore it.  And you looked hot.  And you were hot- literally.  

It was a good thing that you’d nabbed the scarf when you did.  The very next day, the heating system that kept the campus warm during the colder months mysteriously broke down.  You came into work expecting the usual warmth only to find that everything was fucking freezing.  You were fortunate.  You still had the scarf in your bag.

Without another thought, you wrapped it around your neck and curled up into a tiny ball behind the desk.  

Spencer was not so fortunate.  You see, dear reader, our sweet former FBI agent hadn’t realized his scarf had been kidnapped.  Upon returning home the night before, he noted the lack of scarf and assumed that he’d left it in his office.  That’s right.  The man with the eidetic memory just assumed he’d forgotten something- not just something.  The nerdy scarf that he’d spent months working on.

Please forgive him, he’s secretly like, half a himbo.  A half himbo in disguise.  A halfbo incognito.  Anyway.

His assumption left him scarfless, and that morning, Spencer burst into the office, desperate and searching once more.  And then, he saw you wearing his scarf.  The Doctor Who scarf.  The scarf he’d knit himself, the scarf that had spent hours and hours in his hands, that scarf wrapped around your neck.  He froze.  The panic he had felt in the moments before faded away to nothing.  

No.  Not nothing.  It just faded to a different kind of panic.  An, “Oh my god, my cute co-worker is wearing a scarf I made,” type of panic.  A, “Holy shit, my mortal enemy is wearing something rope-like that I made around their neck what kind of day IS THIS,” type of panic.  

An, “Oh god, oh man, my cute co-worker is wearing something I made around their neck to keep warm in the cold,” kind of panic.

Put another way, Spencer went from one kind of panic to several kinds of panic, all before you looked up from your paperwork to catch his wide-eyed gaze.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you said, reaching up to tuck the scarf tighter around your neck, as if you could hide it with such a simple gesture, “How are you?”

“I-” he stood there for a few moments, staring at you and willing the blush on his cheeks to stop burning.  It didn’t.  It burned harder.  Finally, Spencer choked out something, “Is that my scarf?”

“Perhaps,” you drew out the word, curling further into the chair and away from Spencer, “Why?”

“Well, first and foremost, the temperature is thirteen degrees lower than normal-”

“Did you check the thermostat?”  Your words were quiet, mumbled underneath your breath as an expression of genuine confusion rather than a petty, bitchy quip.

“Secondly, my scarf- my scarf that looks suspiciously similar to the one you’re wearing now- is missing.  At first I thought I misplaced it, but then… well,” he gestured vaguely to you, to the fabric draped around your throat, “I managed to put the pieces together.”

You pulled back further.  Spencer just rolled his eyes and stepped into the office.  He slapped his hands down on the desk, letting a loud bang echo through the room.  He smirked at the tiny squeak that escaped you.  Fucker.

“Well?” you asked, voice quiet and hands tight around the scarf, “Care to share, profiler boy?”

He scoffed, though the smile on his lips was genuine, “It wasn’t that difficult.  I came to work missing my scarf and the first thing I saw was my scarf wrapped around your neck.”

“Ah.  The case solved itself,” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek.  Another shiver ran through you, “I suppose you’ll want this back?”

Before you could move to remove the scarf, Spencer held up a hand to stop you, “Keep it.  At least, for now.  It’s cold, and I’ve got a sweater around here somewhere, and you-”

“Are a sweaterless bitch, yes, that’s an accurate take.”

Spencer choked and spluttered, his pink-toned cheeks burning an even darker red, “I- I wouldn’t put it like that-”

“That’s cool,” you shrugged, unfurling your body from the confines of the office chair, “I put it like that.  I am a bitch sans-sweater.  Sweaterless bitch.”

He put a hand up to his face, covering his eyes as he whispered a tiny little curse word.  You just smirked, pulling the scarf tighter around your neck as you stretched your legs out beneath the desk.

Spencer was pretty sure he was going to combust at this point.  You weren’t aware of this- but even so, you still managed to make his day harder.

“So, where did you get this?  It’s soft as fuck, I want, like, fifteen of them.”

Somehow, Spencer managed to avoid choking again, “I, uh, I made that.”

The smile that crossed your lips was blinding, “No shit?  Fuck.  You’re more talented than I thought, Dr. Reid.”

“Thank you?” He paused, awkwardly shuffling into the room and setting up for the day, “So, do you watch Doctor Who?”

“Oh shit,” you looked down at the scarf as it cascaded down your body, “Is this a Doctor Who thing?”

“It’s a replica of the scarf worn by Tom Baker who portrayed the fourth doctor from 1974 to 1981.  The original scarf was actually twenty feet long- the woman who made it wasn’t told how long the scarf needed to be, so she used all the yarn she was given.  It was only shortened slightly for the show’s production, but overall, the end result was very well loved by- oh,” he cut himself off, “Sorry.  I’ll-”

“Wait, why did you stop?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “Because I’m rambling?  And I’m sure you have work to do?  And you don’t watch the show, so-”

“Work?  Work is boring.  Give me the scarf lore.”

“The scarf lore for a show you don’t even watch?”

“Yes!  Look, I’ve always taken a more Rocky Horror route when it comes to sci-fi, but I might have to get into Doctor Who because of this.”

“You should!” Spencer lit up, practically glowing with excitement as he took a seat on the desk, “Especially the newer stuff, I think you’d really like what Russell T Davies has to offer as a showrunner.”

“Do you?” you leaned forward, trying not to grin, trying not to show that you were just as excited as he was.  You failed, “Tell me more, then.”

He did.  The two of you whiled away that morning, ignoring the cold in exchange for an impromptu lecture about British television.

-

A few hallways away, Professor Belker (the head of the criminology department) sat at her desk.  Before her, in two chairs, sat professors Peters and Evans.

“So…” Evans began, rubbing his arms as a weak defence against the cold.

“So,” Belker agreed.  None of them needed to state what they were agreeing upon.  Peters stated it anyway.

“Spencer and (Y/N) are fucking, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It’s practically a guarantee at this point.  You don’t share an office with your mortal enemy unless you and that enemy are having… relations.”

“Wow, ‘mortal enemy.’  That’s intense, Belker,” Evans’ eyes got wide.

“It is.  I’m quoting them directly,” Belker replied, her body weighed down in a way that told the other profs that she had heard that quote a million times.

“Well, it was a good move to shut the heat off.  I saw (Y/N) with Spencer’s scarf, so…” Peters gave a large and unsubtle wink.

“I didn’t shut the heat off.  I thought about it, but-”

“It couldn’t have been you, Belk,” Evans interrupted, “I saw the preliminary report.  The power shut off in the middle of the night.”

“Huh.  That’s odd.”

“Odd indeed.”

A few more hallways away, a book fell off one of the many shelves in your office.  Your office.  The haunted office.  The ghost was getting her way, and lord help anyone who tried to stop her.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @currentfications, @ilse235, @emagen, @foolishwaitersblog if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 3 - Family Fun Night

Merry & Bright Masterlist

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kid fic, Karens

Summary: Bucky and Steve go to their daughters' school play.

(If your name is Karen, I'm sorry and sending warm hugs)

Bucky’s been able to ignore the encroaching Holiday season for longer than usual this year. 

Between the warm-ish fall weather and his continuing therapy appointments, the ceaseless calls from his publisher and that guy from Warner Brothers, and the move and the overwhelming demands of a newborn, it’s just hard to believe that it could already be Thanksgiving next week.

Steve’s next text coming through just about drives a bulldozer through that delusion:

Steve: Hey, I’m at the store right now. You want me to pick anything up for this ‘Friendsgiving’-extravaganza? I know Jarvis said he’s got it handled, but I feel like we should have backups for the girls? Just in case Tony’s picked out some sort of weird, avant garde menu? Becs really has her heart set on pumpkin pie. And Sarah, well …

Bucky: You could ask Pepper. I think we’re safe as long as there’s mac ‘n’ cheese and rolls. Anyway we’ve got over a week to sort it out.

Steve: … Babe, today’s Tuesday. We’ve got two days. 

Bucky immediately checks his phone calendar, and sure enough, Thanksgiving is this week, not next. Fuck. 

“Ohshit,” he breathes, eyes bugging out of his head as he realizes that this means tonight is the school play, not next Tuesday. “Fuck. Shit!” In his hands, his phone chimes.

Steve: So, pie?

Bucky texts back a harried ‘yes’, thinking that he’s got to get his butt back to the tower immediately. He very suddenly has only about nine hours before his children need to be fitted with their (as of yet not even near-to-finished) homemade costumes. Becca’s paper mache drumstick still needs spray painted, and Sarah’s supposed to be a scoop of mashed potatoes that Bucky still needs to find something to act as the pat of butter on top.

“Jarvis, help.” Bucky says as he hoofs it back in the direction of the tower. 

 Jarvis’ voice emanates from his phone: “Mr. Rogers. How can I be of assistance?”

Bucky rattles off the craft supplies they’re going to need. “And if you know anyone on Stark’s payroll who’s good with a needle and thread, that wouldn’t hurt either.”

It seems like only yesterday they were dressed up as Buzz and Woody, letting Bo Peep and a very bossy Jessie drag them around from house to house. They’d trick-or-treated in the Cobble Hill neighborhood where they technically don’t live yet but will soon, once the house is finished being refurbished. Bucky had carried Gabe strapped to his front as one of the Little Green Men alien squeaker toy thingies, and Steve had pulled a wagon along for when one or both of the girls inevitably became too tuckered out to—

Anyhow, point is: it feels like they were trick‘or’treating all of two seconds ago.

And now Thanksgiving is in two days? What the everloving fuck?

Bucky spends a very brief amount of time that afternoon being irrationally mad at his husband, as if it’s Steve’s fault that his pregnancy brain has apparently extended into the postpartum period and allowed him to lose track of time. He grumps privately that Steve should’ve somehow magically known that he was mentally operating in the wrong week, and should have thus alerted him that the holiday was imminent! Stupid Steve. What the hell is the alpha good for, anyway?

Later that evening of course, he realizes how ridiculous that is. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s actually upset with himself—partly because of the mad scramble he’s left with to get ready for Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy’s family fun night, but even moreso because of the 5k he now has to face up to in less than forty-eight hours. (What real, qualitative difference one more week of jogging in the park was really going to make, Bucky can’t say, but he’d been counting on it to help him work his confidence up about the whole ordeal.)

It’s not like he wouldn’t back out of it if he could, but he absolutely cannot back out. This is the first ever Brooklyn Bridge American Heroes Turkey Trot, co-sponsored by Stark Industries and Barnes Prosthetics (yes, Bucky is the genius who thought it’d be fine and dandy to plan a 5k less than half a year after giving birth). Together, he and Tony have started a foundation for veterans and civilian victims of the regime years, to help provide them access to the high quality, bio-integrative prosthetics that Bucky’s company makes.

Since it’s not exactly cheap to weld a robot arm onto somebody, Bucky and Tony have partnered with Wounded Warrior Project for this charity run; done to raise funds for vets who don’t happen to have a spare ninety grand lying around to fund their surgeries. The limbs themselves are, of course, all provided free of charge by Barnes Prosthetics, and the overall costs are at least somewhat ameliorated by various amenities provided by Stark.

As the visible face of the charity, Bucky’s got no choice: he needs to show up, show off, and show support. He’s expected to be there to make nice with all the other amputees who’ll be running, and to show off how happy and perfect his life is now that he’s got the Asset IV prototype cybernetic implant attached to his body. It is a bitchin’ arm, and Bucky is excited to get to hand one of those gigantic cardboard checks over to the Wounded Warrior guys, but he really, really wishes he’d thought to postpone the Foundation’s first run until next Thanksgiving. 

At least he’ll have Steve there with him, he thinks. His Alpha has promised not to outpace him to any embarrassing degree, Darcy is fine with keeping Gabe until they get back, and Tony has even arranged to have the girls set up for the Macy’s parade with a disgustingly VIP viewing situation on Central Park West. But aside from those few hours on Thanksgiving morning, Bucky’s daughters will remain under his purview for the holidays this year. 

And the hubbub begins with Family Fun Night that evening. 

Bucky alone has to deal with Sarah’s anxiety problems leading up to the curtain call for this stupid fucking school play. “Hold still, Honey,” he begs, speaking past the safety pin he’s got held between his lips as he kneels there and uses both of his hands to try and do a last minute costume fix. “Sarah I said hold still.”

“Fix it daddy, fix it!” 

He’s crouched next to his youngest daughter in the school’s hallway, trying to better secure the pat of “butter” (a folded yellow tea towel) to the top of her not-so-great mashed potato costume. Steve is off somewhere with the drumstick, helping her to not be scared about walking out on stage. “Baby, please. I can’t fix it if you keep moving around,” Bucky growls, but his frustrated tone only makes Sarah get more hysterical about her role in the play being messed up by a floppy tea towel. She starts to cry about how she doesn’t want to do this anymore. 

“Sarah Winnifred, I swear to God, if you don’t hold still, you’re gonna have a new hole poked in your head!”

He and Steve sit proudly in the fourth row back and watch the play that their children’s overpriced prep school is putting on before it lets out for Thanksgiving break.

At the end of the final song, when all of the students are lined up on the stage like a demented paper-mache buffet of human-sized food items, bowing hand in hand, Steve and Bucky rise with all the other parents for a standing ovation, humongous smiles plastered on their faces. Steve tries to do a finger whistle with middling success, then he leans over to Bucky’s ear and cheerfully whispers, “That was so dumb!”

Bucky laughs, still clapping and beaming with absolute pride for his daughters. “Yeah it was friggin’ awful!” 

The curtain falls, and he and Steve exit the auditorium to go backstage and congratulate the girls. A very excited drumstick and mashed potatoes run up and start talking over each other to tell their fathers all about the play that they just performed. “Papa! Daddy! Did you see me?! Did you see my song?!!” 

“What about meee?!”

“Sure did, Becs. You were really good!” 

“The best turkey drumstick ever.”

For being such excellent thespians and to celebrate their acting debut, they present the girls with two foil-wrapped tulips that they bought out in the lobby. Becca especially, seems very proud of her flower, twirling in her drumstick costume and holding it to her nose again and again. Bucky’s smile wavers with emotion as he gets that warm, shot-of-whiskey feeling once again, and he remembers that Life is Good. He catches Steve’s eye from over top of the mashed potatoes, and they share one of those silent “I Love You” moments. Steve shoots him a wink.

It being family fun night, Darcy appears as planned and ushers the girls away to go change back into regular clothes before they head over to the kids’ party in the gymnasium. Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky go to the reception that’s been put together for the parents. Bucky isn’t super keen on attending, but he promised the girls that they could play games with the other kids for at least an hour, so he and Steve make an admirable attempt to mingle amongst the other parents.

Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy is an exclusive elementary school on the Upper East Side. Due to its sheer proximity to Stark Tower, and since bussing the girls all the way to Brooklyn for an entire year would’ve been too much of a hassle, Steve and Bucky chose to enroll them there. It’s only temporary, until the renovations on the Cobble Hill house are complete and they’re able to move back to Brooklyn. Bucky is looking forward to being able to walk his children the two picturesque blocks between their house and the neighborhood school each day.

But until then, it’s the more snobbish parents and overzealous PTA moms of Coulton-Chestor that he has to navigate at functions such as tonight’s. Bucky’s been taking some time off work ever since things got very pregnant-and-miserable in about month eight, but he still considers himself a working father, and as such there is an awkward disconnect between him and the more … involved stay-at-home parents who surround him at the reception.

At least there are hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, which give him something to do with his hands. Steve starts chatting with a few of the parents who are running the silent auction, and Bucky avoids getting drawn into bidding on overpriced theater tickets by heading over to the refreshments table. He’s just finished loading up on a bunch of mini quiches and cocktail weenies, when the one person he’d hoped to fully avoid at this function makes her attack. Bucky turns around with his little plate of foot and startles as he’s suddenly faced with a familiar, blonde-haired woman. 

“James!” She’s got a tea-length dress, an overly-whitened smile, and a ponytail that’s been curled to within an inch of its life. It’s Karen.

(No, her name is literally Karen.)

And in Bucky’s limited experience with her, she has an uncanny ability to make every social interaction the exact opposite of what Bucky would like it to be. It’s just a gift some people have.

She swoops in with two other omega parents by her sides, introducing them as “Jill” and “Nate.” Bucky plasters on a smile to match hers while she air kisses his cheeks in that way that rich people who think they’re cultured always do.

“You made it,” she coos, acting pleased to see him. In all fairness, she might be. Bucky’s never point blank told the woman that he finds her insufferable, and she always seems to make a beeline for the more well-to-do parents. Ever since she found out that Bucky and Steve not only rub shoulders with Tony Stark, but are actually living with him, she’s been eager to make Bucky one of her besties. “It’s been too long. How are you, darling?”

“Oh, you know,” Bucky says, gesturing with his plate of cocktail weenies. “Hanging in there.”

“And how is that gorgeous new baby of yours doing?” she asks, nudging Jill to announce, “James is married to Commander Rogers. They have three children.”

Jill and Nate make a polite fuss over that, while Bucky tries to act gracious and think of a way to correct Karen that “Commander” isn’t Steve’s title, and if he ever hears her referring to him as such, he’ll be offended. “How is your family doing?” Bucky asks, more to get the topic off himself rather than due to any real interest. 

Like most of the Coulton-Chestor moms, Karen is married to a well-to-do Alpha, has precisely one child, and spends her time trying to climb as high in Manhattan “Mommy” society as possible. Having a living child at all is automatically a foot up in terms of social standing, Bucky’s learned, and the moms of Park Avenue lord their accomplishments higher than most. Most times Bucky’s met her, Karen’s been wearing diamond solitaires with designer workout clothes and brandishing her own fertility like a damn merit badge. 

Karen brags about her son for a few minutes, and when it seems like everyone in their small group is necessitated to take a turn with regards to their own offspring, Bucky throws some random fact out about how the girls have been doing. Jill and Nate start gushing over Bucky’s grand accomplishment of having three kids, which is practically unheard of. 

“You must be so proud. How lucky to have three healthy children!”

“What were yours in the play?” Jill asks, and she seems friendly enough so Bucky makes an effort to tell her about how he’s responsible for the turkey leg and the mashed potatoes. She giggles and nods and says her son was one of the pumpkins.

“Oh, ha, yeah. They had quite the little dance routine, didn’t they?” 

Bucky’s smile turns annoyed when Karen feels the need to point out, “Yes! And your little Rebecca kept up alright, didn’t she? She seemed able to follow along with the other kids quite well!”

“Yes,” Bucky says peevishly. “She’s very talented.” 

“Isn’t it wonderful here? I just love how inclusive Coulton-Chestor is,” Karen simpers. She turns to the other moms and starts telling them about how Becca is in her son’s “regular” class, and how she’s always so sweet, and so helpful to the other students. She talks about Becca like she’s a little mascot, or a class pet, and it rankles Bucky’s nerve to no end.

Since the fertility crisis began, there’s been more stigma placed on children with any sorts of disabilities, and Bucky’s had to deal with a lot of thinly-veiled prejudice due to his daughter’s special needs ever since he started advocating to get her into the same high-quality school programs as Sarah. The public school system still hasn’t recovered, and with limited slots available in all childcare-related fields these days, people are more ruthlessly competitive for their children than ever before. 

“Yes, we like it here,” Bucky agrees. “Though we’ll be switching to a different school next year, when we move to the new house over in Brooklyn.”

“You’re not leaving The Tower?” Karen gasps, as if that’s the most horrible, ludicrous decision. Given that she makes it sound like Bucky and his family are choosing to move out of friggin’ Buckingham Palace, Nate and Jill predictably get curious and ask:

“The ‘Tower’?”

“Stark Tower,” Karen chirps, excited to tell the other two omegas, “James and his husband live there.”

 Nate’s eyebrows go up. “They live there. In the tower?”

“Oh yes! Didn’t you know? Why, they’re friends with the Starks.”

“Really? Oh, I’ve heard such good things about that Pepper Potts,” Jill gushes. “Seems like a lovely woman. How do you know her?”

Bucky smiles, pained. “Actually I knew Tony first. We work together.”

“You work?” Nate sneers. Bucky ignores him. 

“Yeah, I met Tony back during the, ah … well, during the regime years.”

“Gilead? Oh. Huh.”

(“Wonder what the Starks were doing, back then? Were they married then?”

“You never do hear what celebrities got up to during all that, do you?”

“No, you never do.”)

Bucky hums, not intending to get into a conversation about it, but Karen forces his hand by volunteering, “Wasn’t that all in your book though, James?” 

“Um,”

Karen enthusiastically tells the others, “He was one of those resistance fighters, can you believe it? That’s how he lost his arm.” (Everybody’s eyes not-so-surreptitiously fly to where Bucky’s left hand is sticking out of his sweater, holding onto the plate of hors d'oeuvres.) “And he was a vessel. His husband was one of the commanders down in Washington. That’s where they met!”

“Really?”

“Steve wasn’t a real commander …” Bucky hedges.

“Oh he wrote a whole book about it! You really must read it.” Karen rattles off the title and both Nate and Jill make sounds of recognition. 

“Ooh. You know, I’ve heard of that book.”

“Great,” Bucky mutters. He has to smile along politely and answer them as they start asking him fascinated questions, with Karen supplying details every time he tries to demure and change the topic to something less sensational. 

“He’s just being modest!” she simpers, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm in an overly familiar way. “James, tell them about how you were on the View.”

Bucky reluctantly does, and Jill and Nate nod along, enthused to hear about how he’s been on television and met the hosts of the show. “It really wasn’t all that exciting,” Bucky insists. “I wasn’t the main guest. They had, you know, real celebrities that went after me. Reese Witherspoon and stuff.”

“You met Reese Witherspoon?”

“No, no. I didn’t. I was only there for like, two minutes. It wasn’t even important.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Karen prods smugly. “A little birdy told me that Netflix was trying to buy up the film rights to your book.”

Bucky doesn’t even care, he openly shoots her a withering glare this time. “I can assure you that’s not true.” (It’s HBO, and it isn’t Bucky’s fault if she doesn’t have her details right.) 

Karen continues to gab to the other two parents about it anyway, insisting that some omega heartthrob actor whom Bucky has never heard of would be the ideal casting choice to portray him in the film version of his book. “And Chris Hemsworth. Oh! Wouldn’t he just be perfect to play your Steve?”

“Nobody’s making a movie out of it!” Bucky snaps, fed up with her incessant gossiping. “It’s not happening.” He looks around awkwardly at the end of his outburst, aware of Nate and Jill’s surprised expressions. “Um, I just mean: the studios were shopping around,” he mutters. “But I said no.” 

Of course this is very disappointing to Karen, and she tries to tell Bucky what a mistake that is, talking about how interested everybody would be in the subject matter. “I just saw an episode of the Dr. Phil show where they were talking about it,” she says. “They had wives and some of those vessels on. Even a commander.”

Bucky hums dispassionately. “Sounds like trash tv to me.” He’ll be damned if he lets Karen know he was asked onto that program as well. “Just people trying to make a spectacle out of it.”

Karen titters awkwardly and agrees, but Bucky can tell that she’s annoyed at him for shutting her gossip down. “Well, it’s all very controversial, of course,” she excuses. “And a commitment like that would just be so much more on your plate.”

Bucky nods, glad that she’s dropping it. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“After all, you’re already a working mother,” she says, saying ‘working’ all hurriedly and quietly, as if it’s something not to be mentioned. “I’m sure you just want to focus on your family, now. With the new baby and all.” 

“Congratulations,” Jill gushes. “Did you have a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Gabe. He just turned four months old last week.”

“Oh, how wonderful.”

“Another omega for your family?”

“No, Karen,” Bucky says, annoyance audible in his voice. “We haven’t had him tested. We’re just going to wait and find out the old fashioned way.”

“Oh. I see.”

They all seem taken aback, because it’s very rare for a newborn not to be tested for designation these days. Much to Bucky’s chagrin, gender roles only seem to be becoming more emphasized than ever. Jill chuckles awkwardly and tries to lighten the mood. “Well, that’s so progressive of you. Dan had our little Archie in an alpha playgroup by the time he could crawl, I swear.”

They all titter over that, and Bucky tries to scan the room for any sight of Steve without being too obvious in what he’s doing. He spots him over by the punch bowl. “Um, I’m sorry,” he excuses. “I think I see my husband calling me.” He starts to make his escape, but Karen grabs him just as he’s turning.

“Oh, James, wait! We wanted to ask if you’d help us plan the Winter Gala.”

“Oh, I uh.”

“We’re going to have the children do a nativity scene. And I was thinking a candlelight service. Wouldn’t that just be picturesque?”

Bucky makes a face. “Sorry, Karen. My family isn’t very religious.”

“Oh, no but it’ll be interdenominational!” she insists with a big grin. “You celebrate Christmas, of course!”

“No.”

“... No?” 

“Not really,” Bucky grunts. “I mean, we do a tree and a menorah and all that, but ..."

“Menorah?” she says, and the way she squinches her eyes sets Bucky’s nerves on edge. “You’re not Jewish?”

Bucky pulls his arm back to himself. “Culturally, yes. Steve’s family is Catholic, mine’s Jewish. But we’ve decided that organized religion isn’t what’s right for our family.”

“Oh! But you can still come to the church service!” Karen says brightly. “It’ll be—”

“We’re not religious,” Bucky blurts out, sick of stepping around the issue and having lost his patience. He’s tired of politely fielding other people’s invitations for him and his husband and children to come and check out ‘this congregation’ or that, and figures he’ll just squash any chance there might be of him actually getting roped into planning holiday festivities with the Coulton-Chestor evangelical set. “We’re pretty much raising the girls Atheist,” he tells Karen, watching as her smile flickers like a bulb hanging on by its very last filament. He feels a degree of nasty satisfaction at having perturbed her. 

Disturbingly, the Christian Right has continued to grow in popularity—culturally, if not politically—these past few years, and Bucky has very little tolerance for it (he tried to show tolerance before the regime, and look how that ended up). He knows his family is in the minority, and it’s very apparent how this information makes the friendly light in even Nate and Jill’s eyes dim somewhat.

“I’m sure you’ll plan something great, though,” he excuses brightly, turning around to go and find Steve and see if it isn’t too early to make their escape. “It was nice catching up!”

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

This has been a fill for:

@steverogersbingo

Card: SB3088 || stark-contrast

Square D3: Slice of Life

@marvel-smash-bingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square I5: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

@stuckyversebingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square C4: alpha/omega relationship

[alwaysteveswife]

Ps.: I Always Loved You | Eddie Munson, The Guitarist.

Warnings: Modern!Band! AU, Guitarist! Eddie, Baterist! Reader, Best friends to Lovers.

It's been years since Midnight released their first album, it's also been years since they won their first award, and that certainly means a lot to Eddie. Ever since he was a little boy, he always dreamed of being able to play guitar on stage with hundreds of thousands of people watching him, admiring his effort, and of course, he still loved it. Since they started having a fan club, hundreds of letters with the Gogo signature have come into his hands. They are letters of confessions. Not only of love, of which there are obviously some, but of natural things, his day to day life, his pain, his joy, everything. These letters have meant that, little by little, Eddie has begun to generate feelings for this mysterious person with the nickname Gogo, this person whose face and name he does not know, but he has still managed to understand her emotions and feelings, and he is willing to do anything to find her, even if it means giving up his dream.

"There are times," Eddie said, looking up at the night sky, "when we simply can't control our hearts."

You nodded, knowing that feeling all too well.

"Yes, of course I know that, but why do you say that?"

"Because I'm afraid it's happened to me" a depressing smile made your heart shrink. Eddie had just said he was in love, and it was more than obvious he didn't mean you, "And with the worst person."

"May I know who that is?" you murmured with a slight fear in your voice, knowing the answer would break your heart in two.

"That's the point, honey, even I don't know who she is," he looked at you for a second, his eyes glittering with pain, "the only thing I have from this person are letters, hundreds of them."

Letters, you thought. A thought crossed your mind like a bolt of lightning. You swallowed saliva, your heart in your throat, too nervous to speak coherently.

"And how is the letter signed? Because I imagine it must have one, right?"

"That's right," he reached into his black leather pocket, revealing a neatly folded sheet of paper with the name Gogo in one corner.

For an instant, you couldn't believe it. The blood rushed up to your cheeks and a warmth flooded all over you. That was your signature.

(The purple ones are seen from your point of view, the black ones are narrated from Eddie's point of view). After the epilogue there will be a description of the character that is with Eddie and her name (this is because in the other parts of Midnight series the character appears and could be confused with the reader of that story) anyway, I will avoid as much as possible the important physical descriptions like skin color, eyes, hair, etc.

2016 | Debut.

Sunday 8th | I Want To Know Her.

Monday 16th | Count On Me.

Tuesday 2nd | Time To Think.

Wednesday 6th | Afraid To Fall In Love.

Thursday 18th | Love U, Don't Leave Me.

Friday 4th | I'm In Love.

2025 | Just The Way You Are.

Midnight Masterlist.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I think it also probably plays a role that Vince and Kauri are a bit too similar for comfort, right? Vince is like a reflection of who Kauri really is, all the trauma and escapism and drug abuse — he is just much worse at hiding it both from others and from himself. It probably doesn’t sit right with Kauri just how much of Vince he sees in himself.

Peel away the self-delusion, and Kauri’s life is just as bleak as Vince’s. Even after Kauri’s escape, Vince is still a living reminder of everything Kauri is trying to run away from. No matter how hard he tries, Kauri is still Vincent Shield. He must hate that.

Let me give you a little somethin'-somethin' that I wrote once but never fit into anything so it just sat in my word docs gathering dust...

-

Vince looks up from the papers spread across the table as the door opens and closes. Nat waves one hand. "Don't worry about it, it's Kauri."

"How can you tell?"

"I know what it sounds like when he comes in." She doesn't elaborate and doesn't look up, either. She highlights, bright yellow line across a series of bolded black numbers. "This is the grant we get that helps cover the cost of food. With the recession, they're cutting the amount we receive by about a third."

"Uh-huh." Vince looks towards the doorway, watching, endlessly curious about the strange hostile clone of himself that sometimes sleeps here, more often elsewhere. "I'll cover it. The check can come through Dynastic Blood Technologies, they donate annually to you anyway."

"Vince, are any of your shell companies real?" Nat has a smile in her voice, leaning her cheek against her hand as she makes a note in pen.

"All of them are. Legally speaking. But Dynastic actually is a real research company. Trying to cure hemophilia, I think. I don't remember. I just went in on it as a co-founder, I don't remember much about the day to day. Yulia does all the detail stuff."

"Hm. So-... Okay, moving on to this-"

Vince flinches when Kauri pops into the doorframe from sheer surprise. Those blue eyes skip him entirely, refusing to land, and he doesn't blame him - direct focus tends to make Kauri black out and wake up with one hell of a headache. Or so he says. Vince has only seen it happen once.

"Hey, Nat."

"Hi, Kauri. You staying the night this time?"

"Nah. Just in dire need of a shower and some food that didn't come from McDonald's. Is Jake home?"

"Nope. Class."

"Damn. It's not Tuesday?"

"Wednesday."

Vince blinks. "You don't know what day it is?"

Kauri still won't look at him, but the smile drops off his face. "Can't read, asshole. Counts for calendars, too. Sometimes I lose fucking track of the date. They wiped all that smart shit away."

"Right. Sorry."

"Apology appreciated but maybe just fuck off next time you want to ask stupid questions. That's why I'm here, remember?"

"Kauri, be nice," Nat warns. "To Vince and to yourself." She looks up now, and Vince looks at her while fiddling with the travel mug in his hands. He undoes the lid and snaps it back. Finally takes a sip. The burn down his throat feels good.

Kauri snorts. "Whatever. What about Chris, is he around?"

"He is, but... He's having a hard day. Nightmares and then I did something wrong at breakfast, not sure what, he didn't seem to be able to explain it. But he's a little shaky."

"Oh. Should I... leave him alone, or..."

"No, honey. Go on up there, he'll be thrilled to see you. Just don't turn the light on. I think he's in Jake's room."

"Cool. How long is Sexiest Man of the Year going to be here?"

Vince groans, taking another drink. "Don't talk about that. Someone on my management team off paid People Magazine, I swear."

"Probably."

Vince feels his face warm and stares down at the paperwork on the kitchen table. "... Kauri, listen-"

"Nope."

"Vince and I are finishing up," Nat interjects smoothly. "He should be out of here in an hour or so, and we'll go out to lunch."

"Great. Hey, Vince, I wanted to ask you something."

Vince looks up, and Kauri is looking off to the side, his profile what Vince sees. Nearly identical to his own, years ago, at this age. Just with longer hair and paler skin. "What?"

"Is drinking yourself to death helping?"

He blinks and looks down at his travel mug, then back up. "This is coffee."

"Hm, not all of it though, huh? So is it helping? The liquor? Make you feel better, help you sleep at night?"

Some vicious hurt creature inside Vince lashes out, and before he can stop himself he hears his own voice asking, "Not really. Does fucking everyone who looks at you help you?"

Nat opens her mouth to protest or stop them, but before she can, Kauri laughs. The brittle bright laughter rings through the room, and he turns away, headed for the stairs.

"Can't hurt me by calling me what I already know I am, movie star," He says, carelessly, tossed over his shoulder as he takes the steps two at a time. "Hurts way worse to remember what I'm not."

Vince stares after him, then takes another swig from the travel mug. Whiskey and coffee, the blend of burn and bitterness.

"... Why is he better at that than me?" He mutters.

Nat looks over at him, then back towards the entryway, listening to the creak of Kauri walking across the old wooden hall above their heads. "He practices," She says, voice low. "All the time."

[signalhill-if]

The Veterinarian - Short Story

To celebrate Test Run going into early access, I'd like to share last month's short story with you folks. I'm also just really excited to share it in general. Here's how Doc met one of the other cast members... Word count: 1.6k

It was a warm Tuesday evening in mid-May, the light pushing its way in through the window was starting to wane, and a young veterinarian was manning the desk at his newly founded medical practice. A powder blue typewriter sat in front of him, its keys rhythmically striking the page as he typed. His handwriting was practically illegible- it wasn't something you needed to learn in order to set a broken leg or inject into a vein. And a photocopier was too expensive anyway. So his funding requests (charity requests, really) would have to be copied by hand, letter by letter, ten or twenty or fifty times.

Today was quiet- even with a price tag of free, not many people were aware of his practice. Sometimes there would be days of silence, with no patients in sight. But the monotony of the rapid thunks against paper was broken by a creaking sound on the other side of the room. The front door. Its hinges were rusty. This place used to be a butcher's shop before the raids drove it out of business. Nothing had been replaced, just scrubbed to within an inch of its life.

Emil's eyes flicked up from his work to watch the approach. The door swung slowly open, and a young man hobbled in from the warm wind outside. He cut an interesting figure- wobbling slightly on one leg, his body long and sinewy, his face mostly hidden by a shock of blonde hair. There was lipstick smeared down his chin. His outfit was mostly obscured by a rough-spun shawl draped over his shoulders, but under it Emil could see a hint of a red slip and fishnet stockings. The fact that he was wearing heels made his unsteady gait even worse.

"I'm afraid I'm a little worse for wear, doc," the man muttered. There was a nervous laughter under it all, like he couldn't contain his irreverence for even a moment. "You don't charge, right? I can't really afford it."

Standing up from his chair, Emil approached the limping man. His voice was tinged with concern. "What happened?"

"You should see how the other guy looks," the guy muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm... not doing so hot. I came here cause Tomas said you deal with people like us."

It had only been a few months, but the people had already started to blend out into stories. Remembering a single name like that would be like remembering a single letter of a novella. Context clues would be necessary. "People like who?" He rested a hand on the man's back to start leading him to one of the cots.

"Queers." Oh. The word coming from this man's stained lips was weighed down with baggage that Emil could sense but not understand. "Boys who wear dresses."

The young man allowed himself to be led over to the cot. His leg was certainly broken, though not badly. He had bruises forming on his arms and upper thighs, and one on the left side of his face. Not in any recognizable pattern, at least not without further inspection. He must have been beaten, kicked, maybe by a group. "What's your name?"

There was a pause before he responded. "Yvette." It was hard to tell if it was fake, or if he simply used enough of them that he had to pick which to use. Probably the last one.

As he lowered himself onto the bed, Yvette inhaled sharply and gripped the metal frame with an unsteady hand. "Jesus, doc, I think it's broken..."

"I think so too." Emil kneeled down next to him, his hands tentatively grazing against the fishnets. "I'll need you to remove the stockings, though. With minimal movement. I need to splint it so it will heal correctly."

"Oh my," he muttered, a smile flickering across his lips. The opportunity to jeer at Emil was overriding whatever pain he was in. Normally, I'd expect men to take me to dinner first! Or pay me, at least."

Emil clenched his jaw. He wasn't going to let this phase him. Not even as his cheeks flushed and he averted his eyes. He had to make this interaction normal at all costs. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you?"

"Sometimes when a guy sees a pretty girl, he just can't help but drag him into an alley and beat him half to death. Hormones." He said it with such nonchalance. This wasn't unexpected for him.

What was unexpected was the way Yvette hiked up his dress enough to start peeling the fishnets down his thighs. Not enough to be explicit, but a clear invitation. Look, if you'd like. Emil was sure to avert his eyes after catching a glimpse of red lace.

"I'll just be a moment... I need to fetch a splint." Standing up bolt straight, Emil rushed back to his office. Yes, that was where he kept most of his medical supplies. It was also an enclosed space away from this patient. And he needed that right now, if only for a moment.

Bracing his arm against the wall, he took a deep breath. His eyes caught his face in the mirror hanging on the wall. His cheeks and softly freckled nose were flushed, and a bit of sweat was accumulating on his brow. He'd been running this clinic for only a short while, and he felt utterly unprepared to deal with even the most remotely difficult of patients.

A deep breath. He ran his fingers through his crop of dark hair. Unphased. He was going to be unphased.

After collecting his supplies (and himself), Emil stepped back out into the clinic. The patient was reclining on his cot, the pain still evident but not nearly writhing in it like a lot of folks would be. Maybe on opiates? Such a thing wouldn't be uncommon with these lower-city genderfuck types. Take an upper to party, a downer to relax after all that partying, and another upper to keep from falling asleep... and on. Or maybe he was just really good at hiding it.

"You're lucky, the fracture is quite minimal. You'll be up on your feet again in just a few days." Emil quickly set to work wrapping tight cloth bandages around Yvette's leg, starting right at the ankle and moving upwards. "Until then, you shouldn't put too much weight on it or do any strenuous exercise."

"That's horrible," Yvette complained with a hint of a grin. "However will I live without my daily hikes? What about the weightlifting contest on Monday?" Lying there, half propped up on his arms, swimming in his shawl, he looked like a model out of a fancy old painting. Something you'd see on auction in one of those upscale shops in The Heights.

Soon, Emil had finished applying the splint. He ran his fingers over the handiwork, feeling the shape of Yvette's calf under his fingertips. And then he stood up. "That should heal well. I'm afraid there's very little I can do for the bruises, but you don't seem to have any other fractures."

"Thank you so much, doc." He overpronounced every word, holding out a dainty hand with chipped red nail polish. Beckoning. "Come here, let me thank you properly."

Reluctantly, Emil stepped closer. Close enough for Yvette to grab his wrist and pull him in all at once. In half a second he was leaning down with his hands planted on the frame and the cot, his face next to the patient's. The young man's lips grazed his cheek, leaving a delicate kiss. In a hushed tone he muttered, "I wish there was something I could do to repay you for helping me out like this..."

"I don't accept payment for my services." The flush was coming back to Emil's cheeks. He was trying desperately to stay professional.

Yvette's lips got even closer to Emil's ear as he muttered, "How about if you ever need my services, they're free of charge?"

Emil didn't need to question what kind of services he meant. He straightened up, his face hot. "If you need a place to stay while that leg heals... my beds are open until a higher-priority patient needs them." Both of them glanced around the room in unison, remembering that they were completely alone, with two other cots unoccupied.

The next few days were quiet as well. The practice was new, after all. There were periods of relative peace, and periods of intense business. In truth, Emil had hoped it would get busy once Yvette showed up. It didn't.

He wasn't quiet, either. They spoke about his concerns, about how money was tight and clients weren't going to be interested in him for weeks until the bruising got better. They spoke about the city they'd grown up in, how different everything was from their youth. They spoke about work, with Emil trying his hardest to pretend he wasn't interested in this particular topic. And they spoke about each other's bodies, a week or so later, lying next to each other in the warm embrace of Emil's bed.

Running his fingertips along Yvette's side, feeling the bone just under the skin of his hip, Emil muttered, "I don't know how you convinced me to do that. It should go without saying, but sleeping with a patient isn't very professional."

"It was inevitable," Yvette teased. "I always get what I want, doc."

"So what do you want now?"

Yvette paused for a moment, his eyes fluttering shut. His hair was splayed out on the pillow, his makeup still smudged and never removed. "Right now, I want a glass of wine, a massage, and a nice relaxing bubble bath. In the future... I'd like to be a friend, not a patient."

Sighing and letting himself sink down into the mattress, Emil muttered, "I guess if you always get what you want..."

[steddieworks]

you can change (right next to me) - iv

hi!! I'm so sorry that it has taken me forever and a day to update but life has just been busy and hectic lately! I also haven't really been in the mood for writing lately, and I didn't want to post something half-assed just to say i've posted

that being said... here's chapter 4 of the tutor au! things got away from me this chapter and so i'm fairly certain the new chapter count will be a bit longer, but we'll just have to see how the next couple of them go!

happy reading!

read on ao3

Summary:

Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.

Eddie grins, and knows that he probably looks ridiculous, but he literally can’t help it. Steve is being brave - braver than Eddie would ever be, probably, and doing the things that scared him, and Eddie can only hope that someday he’ll be able to do that too.

or,

Steve makes a decision.

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, discussions of disabilities

It takes about a week for Steve to make up his mind about the hearing thing.

And in that week, Eddie feels tortured, or maybe blessed, with Steve wearing his glasses. He shows up to class Monday without them, but when Eddie catches him squinting at the board, he walks by and murmurs a soft, “forgetting something?”

Steve seems flustered by it, but digs them out with a huff. He glares at Eddie for a few minutes, or tries to at least, before he breaks, sliding them onto his face and giving him a soft little smile. Eddie grins, waggling his eyebrows and mouthing the word “hot” at him, which only makes Steve blush.

They’re so obvious with it that Barbera fake-gags, which embarrasses Eddie just enough to stop flirting until the end of class. He means to catch Steve before he leaves, just to check in with him and make sure they’re still on for their tutoring session the next day, but Steve is out the door before Eddie even finishes packing his bag. He tries not to take it personally, and when Tuesday rolls around and Steve does show up for their tutoring session, Eddie knows it isn’t really about him. Still, he’s not oblivious to the fact that Steve keeps things strictly business, all school-related talk and nothing else, and this trend continues for the rest of the week.

It’s Friday evening when something finally changes.

They’re at the library for their usual tutoring session, and Eddie is watching Steve as he writes the answer to one of the workbook’s questions, his hand moving slowly and carefully as he writes. It’s quiet in their little pocket of space in the corner, so Eddie notices immediately when someone approaches them on Steve’s bad side.

Not that Steve has a bad side, exactly. It’s just, like… the side he can’t hear from.

The person, who Eddie vaguely recognizes from the history lecture, says, “hey, Steve, do you happen to have the notes from Wednesday?”

Steve doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even look up.

Eddie gives the girl - Delilah? Dina? Something like that - a small smile before reaching out and touching Steve’s wrist.

“Hm?” Steve says, still not looking up.

“Honey, you’ve got a visitor,” Eddie says, voice quiet but close enough to Steve’s good ear that his gaze snaps up, then over, flushing when he sees the girl standing there.

“Oh, hey Nicole,” he says, clearly embarrassed.

Nicole? Close enough.

“Hey, Steve,” she says, clearly confused. “Um, I was just asking if you happened to have the notes from Wednesday. I had a doctor’s appointment and you’re the first person I’ve seen from that class since then.”

There’s a panic-stricken look on Steve’s face as he processes her words. “Oh, um…” he says, shuffling his papers around. Eddie knows his notebook is in his bag still, and he knows that Steve does have the notes, and yet he says, “I don’t have them with me, actually.”

“Oh,” Nicole says, her face falling. “Okay, then. Well, um. Thanks anyway.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie stops her.

“Hey, Nicole? I’ve got the notes, so I can email them to you when I get home,” Eddie tells her. His hand is still resting on Steve’s wrist, so he notices it when Steve turns his hand over, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Eddie thinks it might be a little thank you.

“Oh, perfect! Thanks so much, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I’ll see you guys Monday!”

Eddie smiles and waves at her with his free hand, while Steve just nods at her before turning back to his work. When his pencil doesn’t move, however, Eddie frowns. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asks, speaking softly.

Steve shrugs, then sniffles, covering his face with his free hand and shaking his head.

Oh.

“Oh, babe,” Eddie sighs sympathetically, scooting his chair closer and bringing his hand up to gently rub Steve’s back. “I… I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through with this. But, can you talk to me? Tell me what part is bothering you?”

Steve shakes his head again, then seems to change his mind and nods instead. “I just…” He trembles, and Eddie waits, patiently rubbing circles onto his back and squeezing his hand again. “Now that I’m like, aware of it, I’m starting to hyperfixate on it.”

“On what?” Eddie asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows.

“The hearing thing. Like… How many fucking times have I just sat and ignored someone because I just couldn’t fucking hear them?” He’s getting a little louder than is probably acceptable at a library, so Eddie gently shushes him. He looks sheepish for a moment, lowering his head to rest on their intertwined hands. “I just… I don’t know. I feel broken.”

Eddie’s heart fucking shatters when he hears that. He hates to imagine that Steve has been dealing with these feelings by himself for so long before now, but he knows that he probably has. The only thing he can do now is be there for him, but thinking about a younger Steve, struggling with this alone, almost makes him sick.

“I know, Stevie. I mean… I haven’t been through this, but I get the whole… feeling broken thing. But you’re not broken.” A heavy silence falls upon them, and he hopes Steve can read the subtext, because he’s just not sure if he can spell it out for him just yet.

Apparently, he doesn’t need to. Steve tilts his head, looking up at Eddie and giving him a frown. “You’re not broken, either.” Before Eddie can protest, Steve sits up straight, leaning into Eddie’s space a bit more than he normally would, his hand coming up to cup Eddie’s jaw. “No. If I’m not broken, then neither are you. We’re… we’re okay.”

Eddie gives him a little smile, and an easy agreement. “We’re okay,” he says softly. He tilts his head, catching Steve’s hand and pressing a little kiss to his palm. He just can’t help himself.

Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.

Eddie grins, and knows that he probably looks ridiculous, but he literally can’t help it. Steve is being brave - braver than Eddie would ever be, probably, and doing the things that scared him, and Eddie can only hope that someday he’ll be able to do that too.

He kisses Steve’s hand again, holding it in both of his and smiling at him. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs. “I’m serious, Steve. I know you don’t want to go, and it’s scary, but I’m so fucking proud of you for deciding that it’s worth it to try.”

Steve has a sort of bashful look on his face, but Eddie’s not backing down. He wants Steve to know, without a doubt, how supportive he is of this decision. “Well, it’s not really that big of a deal,” he mumbles.

Eddie shakes his head. “Okay, maybe not. But that doesn’t mean it’s not scary. That doesn’t mean it’s not brave to do it. And that doesn’t make me any less proud of you.” He uses Steve’s hand that he’s got trapped in his to boop him on the nose.

Steve looks sort of embarrassed, but smiles, ducking his head. “Will you go with me again?” He asks, studying their hands. He brings his other hand down to tangle their fingers together, and Eddie lets him, helpless to intervene when he’s being so sweet and touchy after so many days without it.

“Of course,” Eddie replies immediately. “Always. Anytime you need me, darlin’, I’m there.”

He watches as Steve’s face flushes, and he has to bite back a grin. He’s so easy to rile up, even when Eddie isn’t particularly trying to. “Okay,” Steve mumbles. “We should… finish this?” He sounds uncertain.

Eddie nods, though honestly he could give a fuck less about the stupid worksheet that Murray assigned. “Sure, Stevie. And I can drive you home when we’re done, if you want.”

Steve pulls his right hand away from Eddie’s to grab his pencil, but taps it on the book a few times before speaking. “I was actually thinking… Maybe I could go back to yours? And we could, um… watch a movie or something?” He sounds so hopeful, and has an air of forced nonchalance that Eddie can’t help but smirk at.

Then what he’s asking sets in. “Uh…” Eddie hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to spend more time with Steve, or course not. But because… he’s not sure he’ll be able to maintain this quasi-friendly distance between them if they’re all alone in his apartment.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve mumbles after a minute of silence. “I just-“

Apparently Eddie has even less self control than he thought, because he just nods and smiles. “No, yeah. Let’s do that. You said you’ve never seen Lord of the Rings, right?” He’s mostly joking, but the wide-eyed, panicked look that fills Steve’s face then just solidifies it. “It’s a long one, so you’ll have to hurry up if you wanna be able to finish it tonight.”

Steve sighs like he regrets ever asking, but gives Eddie a little smile when he looks back down at his work. “Alright.”

~~~

Eddie doesn’t actually make Steve rush through the assignment, but he hints at the correct answers more frequently than he normally would. If Steve notices the difference, he doesn’t say anything, and when he finishes, he lets Eddie help him pack up his things without argument.

If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was… excited.

But surely that can’t be the case. Steve had never shown any interest in any of Eddie’s nerd shit before now, so surely there’s something else. Then again, if Steve’s excited/nervous for the same reason that Eddie himself is… that might be a problem in and of itself.

“How long did you say this movie was again?” Steve asks as Eddie is driving them away from campus, towards his apartment.

“Well,” Eddie says, hesitating. “Um… I don’t think I did.”

“What?” Steve glances at him, clearly confused.

Eddie scratches his chin awkwardly. “I didn’t say how long it was,” he admits, biting his lip a little and avoiding meeting Steve’s gaze.

“Oh,” Steve says. A few seconds later, he shrugs. “Okay.”

Eddie balks at him. Surely he’s not just giving in that easily? Without any sort of estimate about when he can expect to go home?

“Do you… not want to know how long it is?” Eddie asks. The fun has run its course if Steve’s not playing along, but Eddie had expected the joke to last a bit longer, if he’s honest.

Steve just shrugs again. “It doesn’t really matter to me,” he says casually. When Eddie glances at him, Steve is already turned to face him fully. Eddie feels a little bad for avoiding eye contact so far on the drive, realizing acutely that Steve relies on lip-reading significantly. “Are you gonna make me go home if I fall asleep during it?”

Eddie blinks at him. He can feel his face flushing a little, at even the suggestion of the alternative. That he should just let Steve sleep over, like they’re friends, when they are most certainly not.

“Um,” Eddie says, stupidly. “Probably not. For starters, that would be really shitty of you, to fall asleep during the best cinematic masterpiece of our time, and secondly,” he pauses to glance the opposite way before turning right at a stop sign. He normally wouldn’t bother, but… precious cargo. “I could never be that cruel. It’s a long one. And since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide if you fall asleep.”

Steve makes a noise that’s a bit like a laugh or a snort, and when Eddie glances at him, he’s got a smirk on his face. “That sounded a bit dirty,” he teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, you’re just dirty-minded. Get your thoughts out of the gutter, Harrington.”

“What if I want them in the gutter?” Steve says, sly and coy.

Eddie clears his throat. “Um.”

Luckily, Steve takes pity on him. “Can we order Chinese?”

~~~

They do order Chinese, and while they wait for it to arrive, Eddie frets about setting up the movie.

“Now this is god-tier shit, alright? And there’s all these layers to the lore, so if you have a question I’ll have to pause the whole thing and-“ Eddie is explaining all this as he’s turned away, but he pauses when he turns around and finds Steve staring at him. He’s got this little smile on his lips, and it takes Eddie a second to get it. “You couldn’t hear any of that, could you?”

Steve breaks out into a full grin at that. “Not really. It sounded sort of muffled, but I got bits and pieces of it.”

Eddie shakes his head, embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I-“

Steve steps towards him, shaking his head. “Don’t… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Eddie says quietly, hyper-aware of the lack of space between them.

“Don’t treat me like I’m broken. Just… treat me the way you always do.” Steve’s voice breaks, and so does Eddie’s heart.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie sighs. He reaches out for Steve, pulling him into a tight hug. Luckily, Steve goes willingly. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m really not trying to treat you differently, like, in a bad way. I’m just trying to be more accommodating, now that I sort of know how.”

Steve nods. “I know. I just… I really hate being like this, Eddie.”

Eddie’s heart feels like lead in his chest, his ribs too tight around the organ. “I know,” he mumbles against Steve’s hair, rubbing his back in long, smooth motions. “Well… not completely, but… I understand why you’re frustrated.”

Steve sniffles. Eddie kisses the top of his head, not even caring if Steve feels the affectionate touch. “Yeah,” he says, tiredly. “Can we just watch the movie? And… and not talk about all my problems?”

Eddie nods, but pulls back to look at him. “Okay, but let me say one last thing?” Steve shrugs, so Eddie takes that as an agreement. “You’re allowed to talk about these things with me. I know you feel weird about it, but just know that I’ll always listen if you need to talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Helpless to his own stupid urges, Eddie leans in again to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Alright. Movie time.”

~~~

The food comes as they’re gathering up pillows and blankets and all the snuggly things that Eddie can find in his apartment. They build a fort of sorts on his sofa, and between the two of them, they’re laughing and giggling at the absurdity of it all, the child-like glee from playing like kids again.

“You know, I’ve never been able to use chopsticks,” Eddie notes vaguely as they settle in to start eating.

“Really?” Steve asks, all curious and amused. “I could teach you, if you want.”

Eddie looks over at him, surprised. “Would you really?”

Steve shrugs. “Sure, why not. C’mere.”

So that’s how Eddie finds himself, sitting in front of Steve, his ass barely hanging onto the edge of the couch, Steve’s thighs bracketing his hips. Eddie’s not sure this is an entirely foolproof method, but he doesn’t argue when Steve tells him where to sit.

“Alright, so, you just hold the bottom one steady like this,” Steve explains, demonstrating on his own hand. “And then the top one is used like a pincer. You just use it to pinch your food.”

Eddie nods, turning his head so that Steve will be able to hear him. “Sounds simple enough.”

Steve smiles, reaching for his hand. “Alright, let me show you how to hold it.” He goes through the whole routine again, this time positioning the chopsticks between Eddie’s fingers instead of his own. “Okay, now try to get a piece of chicken.”

Eddie reaches forward, but nearly slides off the couch in the process. “Man, I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement you’ve ever come up with.”

“Hm?” Steve hums against his shoulder, his arm slipping around Eddie’s waist to hold him. Eddie’s not sure this will prevent him from tumbling off the couch, but he’s not about to turn down the almost-cuddle.

“I said I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement,” Eddie repeats, turning his head to the side to glance back at Steve. “Even though you make one hell of a seatbelt,” he says with a smirk.

Steve blushes, pinching Eddie’s stomach lightly. “Behave,” Steve says when Eddie squeals. “And pick up the chicken! We’re losing precious daylight hours here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, even as he leans forward once more to try and use the chopsticks. “Fine,” he mumbles. It takes him a few tries, but eventually he does manage to pinch a piece of chicken between the ends of the chopsticks. “Look! I did it!” He cheers, turning quickly in his excitement to show Steve.

Of course, that’s exactly when the chicken slips out from between the chopsticks, landing on the floor.

Eddie sighs. “Fuck this,” he says solemnly, going to put the chopsticks down in exchange for a fork.

“Hey,” Steve protests, reaching around him to scoop the chopsticks back up. “Just because you’re trash at it now doesn’t mean you can’t learn. Here, watch what I do.” Steve carefully leans forward, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest to hold him still. Eddie feels like he can barely breathe as he watches Steve easily scoop up a piece of chicken with the chopsticks, expertly bringing it out of the bowl without dropping it.

Eddie expects Steve to eat the morsel himself, so he’s surprised when instead, the chopsticks halt in front of his mouth. “Here,” Steve says softly.

He almost wants to tease him, but the fear of breaking the moment altogether forces Eddie to just accept it, opening his mouth and letting Steve feed him. “Mm.”

“Is it good?” Steve asks, his hand beginning to trace meaningless shapes on Eddie’s stomach.

“Yeah,” Eddie finds himself whispering, his throat feeling a little tight, and not because of the food.

What use are their stupid boundaries about kissing if they’re going to do shit like this? He wonders.

“Want to try again?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, maybe next time.”

“Okay,” Steve says easily enough. Eddie expects him to push him away now, grab a fork and both of them eat like normal people.

That’s not what happens.

Instead, Steve shuffles in his seat, lifting up his legs and carefully draping them over Eddie’s. “Is this okay?” He whispers.

Eddie swallows hard, but nods. His idea of “okay” is so skewed as of now, he really doesn’t know what qualifies anymore. “Yeah, it’s okay,” he mumbles.

Steve crosses his legs over Eddie’s lap, and if Eddie didn’t feel so choked up, he’d probably laugh at the way he’s basically got a human backpack.

“Can you hold my food for me? So I don’t have to lean so far?” Steve asks, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest.

Eddie nods, but glances back at Steve before he grabs the take-out container for him. “Are you sure it wouldn’t just be easier to sit beside me?”

Steve blushes. “I mean… yeah, it would.” He doesn’t say anything else, staring at Eddie with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the take-out container with a hand on one of Steve’s ankles. “Here you go, baby.”

He holds the carton close to Steve’s right hand to make it easier on him, then frowns at his own plate. He’s not sure exactly how they’re going to manage it like this, to be honest. He’s pulled from his thoughts when Steve hums in his ear.

“Bite?” Steve says softly, holding out a piece of chicken at the end of his chopsticks.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, surprised. “Are you sure? I can just eat mine.”

Steve shrugs, and for a split second, Eddie thinks he feels the briefest press of lips to his shoulder blade. “We can share,” Steve suggests.

Eddie turns his head just a bit, and their noses brush with the movement. Neither of them move away. “You just want to steal some of my orange chicken,” Eddie accuses teasingly.

Steve blinks, his eyes wide and innocent. “Who, me?”

And really, what happens next is all Steve’s fault.

He licks his lips, just a quick dart of tongue against chapped pink, and Eddie’s eyes drop to follow the movement, helpless.

When his eyes flick back up to meet Steve’s, the innocent look is gone, replaced by something darker, something more intense. Steve carefully sticks his chopsticks back into the carton of chicken and rice, his thumb coming to rub the back of Eddie’s hand, pushing it towards the table.

“Put it back,” Steve says quietly, no need for volume when his breath is already caressing Eddie’s ear.

Eddie obeys immediately, leaning forward and placing the carton back on the table before attempting to twist in Steve’s grip, desperate to face him, to see what will happen next. “Steve,” Eddie murmurs, a little annoyed at the lack of movement he’s being allowed.

Steve doesn’t let him struggle for long. He wiggles to the side of Eddie, pulling his left leg with him as he goes. Eddie hears himself whine sadly, but before he can lament the loss of Steve’s warmth properly, he’s shifting again, and suddenly Eddie has a lapful of Steve Harrington.

“Um,” Eddie says, very eloquently. Thank you, English degree.

Steve is staring down at him from his new perch, his eyes a little wild. His hands are shaking a bit as he brings them up to rest on Eddie’s shoulders, but his voice is calm when he speaks. “I know we decided this was a bad idea,” he says, his voice strong and even. “But, I also think that if I don’t kiss you within the next five minutes, I might die.”

Eddie cracks a grin at that. “You think so?”

Steve nods solemnly. “You can tell me to fuck off if you really don’t want to,” he whispers, leaning in close and brushing his lips against Eddie’s cheek, right where it dimples. “But I… I’ve been thinking about it all day, and…” he pauses, pulling back just a fraction. “I happened to be looking at the student handbook for the university.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. “Oh? You just happened to be looking at that?”

Steve’s face is definitely a little pink, but he nods, apparently committed to that version of the story. “Yes. And it says that student/professor relationships are frowned upon, but not technically illegal.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s heart is racing. He’s certain he’s got this deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, one that Steve must be able to read as clear as day, even with the reading difficulties he definitely possesses.

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “And since you’re not technically my professor…” His lips drag down Eddie’s jaw, nipping gently when he gets close to Eddie’s ear. “And if this is just sex, not a relationship…”

Eddie’s stomach drops a little at that, and not in a sexy way. “Oh,” he says, struggling to keep the disappointment out of his voice. But of course it wouldn’t be anything past sex - Steve is young, attractive, a star member of the university’s basketball team. He could get anyone he wants to be in a relationship with him, of course he wouldn’t want Eddie. And as pathetic as it makes him, and as much as it hurts… he knows he’s going to let Steve have this. He’s going to give him what he wants, and when he’s through with him, Eddie will allow himself to be tossed aside like trash, even though he’s already halfway in love with the guy.

But it’s that love, that endless well of adoration and desire, that makes Eddie say, “okay.”

Even though it hurts.

“Yeah?” Steve mumbles against his jaw.

Even though it fucking stings.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers back.

He lets that be the end of their exchanging of words, reaching a hand up into Steve’s hair to gently tilt his head, guiding their lips together in a deep, wet kiss. Steve makes a soft noise into the touch, and Eddie’s other hand falls down to rest on his hip, squeezing gently. His mouth moves softly against Steve’s at first, craving the tenderness of a kiss that he knows is living on borrowed time.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers against his mouth, pulling back just a little. “Do you think we could- would you-“ He stumbles over his words, making a frustrated noise before rutting his hips down into Eddie’s, making him groan loudly.

“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. “Fuck. Don’t- you shouldn’t do that.”

Steve whines, looking down at him with wide, pitiful eyes. “Why not?” He asks. He’s definitely pouting.

Eddie drops his head back against the couch, overwhelmed with the feeling of Steve in his lap and all his blood rushing south. “God. I don’t know,” Eddie whines back, clutching at Steve’s hips desperately. He scrambles to think of something, anything, to postpone this, even for a few minutes. “Our food,” he finally says, blinking up at Steve.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Our food?” He asks.

“It’ll… get cold,” Eddie finishes lamely.

Steve snorts, and his lips work into a grin. “Fuck the food, you’ve got a microwave.”

He dives back in for a kiss again, and really, Eddie can’t argue with that logic. His hands map a path from Steve’s hips to the back pockets of his jeans, and he’s not shy about sticking his hands in there to squeeze a good handful. “Fuck, babe,” he groans, Steve nipping at his lips. “Such a nice ass,” he mumbles, tilting his head to catch Steve’s lips again.

Steve pulls back, making Eddie whine loudly. He’d be embarrassed if he had any blood left in his brain to encourage any sort of thought process. Steve grins above him. “You should see it without the jeans. I’ve been told it’s even better that way.” He’s so fucking smug about it that Eddie has to pull his stupid face in for another bruising kiss, more than a little jealous at the mere suggestion that anyone else is seeing Steve’s ass enough to have an opinion.

And that’s stupid, not to mention possessive, of Eddie to even think that, but here they are. He squeezes Steve’s ass again before pulling his hands out of his pockets, bringing his hands around to undo his button and zipper. “Are you sure?” Eddie asks, pausing there, giving Steve every chance to back out. “You can always change your mind, Stevie.”

Eddie isn’t sure what he’s expecting Steve to say to that, but it definitely isn’t a huffy, “I know what I want, Eddie.”

“Okay,” Eddie says softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Tell me, then. What do you want?”

At that, Steve’s cheeks go a little red, though Eddie can’t for the life of him fathom why. It’s not like Steve has been shy up until this point. “I…” Steve trails off, but begins moving his hips in short little bursts of movement. “I want you to touch me.”

Eddie grins, and decides that if this is the only time he gets to have this, he can be a little mean. “Touch you where, baby?”

Steve whines, high in his throat. “Eddie,” he says softly. “Don’t be mean.”

And Eddie can’t help but kiss him for that. “Sorry,” he lies against his mouth. “Should we maybe go to my room? Or do you wanna do this on the couch?”

Steve freezes in his lap, which makes Eddie pull away instantly, looking up into his face for any sign of regret. “Um…” Steve starts, avoiding Eddie’s eyes.

“Honey, what is it?” Eddie asks as he rubs a soothing hand up and down Steve’s thigh. “Talk to me.”

“I’m not ready to fuck for real,” Steve says suddenly, the words bursting out of him in a rush of panic.

Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. “Okay,” he says immediately, bringing a hand up to pet Steve’s hair back. “That’s perfectly fine, baby. Thank you for telling me.”

Steve wiggles in his lap, twin hisses leaving their mouths at the sensation. “I still want to… do something, though.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He pauses, thinking for a minute, before he smiles at Steve. “You ever jerked off with another guy before, Stevie?”

~~~

Predictably, Steve hasn’t done that, so that’s how they find themselves ten minutes later, both of their jeans and underwear pulled down to their thighs as Eddie strokes them off together with one hand. It’s incredibly hot, his gaze torn between watching the way his cock almost dwarfs Steve’s in his grip, and admiring the way Steve stares down at their dicks, his mouth wide open in shock.

“Does it feel pretty good, baby?” Eddie asks, smirking.

Steve nods dumbly, not a single word escaping his mouth. He’s blinking sort of rapidly, and Eddie wonders if his contacts are drying out. Normally, he’d stop to ask, but they’re both too damn close to worry about something like that right now.

Eddie tightens his grip a little, their dicks slippery enough with precome and spit that they slide together, making a disgusting, perfect sound. Eddie groans, flicking his wrist as he brings the both of them closer to the edge, his mind still not entirely wrapped around the fact that this is happening. They’re having sex. Literal, cocks touching, sharing breath and spit, sweaty sex.

And Eddie loves it.

He doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to give it up now that he’s had it, but he knows he’ll do whatever Steve wants, always. If he tells him ten minutes from now that he never wants to see Eddie again, Eddie would probably pack his bags. If Steve proposed, Eddie would say yes in a heartbeat.

Basically, there’s nothing Eddie wouldn’t do for him at this point.

“Close, close, close,” Steve chants, dropping his head back, presenting his neck to Eddie as he loses himself in the pleasure.

Eddie takes that as an opportunity to tilt forward, kissing and biting at the exposed column of Steve’s neck like his life depends on it. “Gonna come?” He mouths against Steve’s Adam’s apple.

“Yes, yes, Eddie, fuck, please,” Steve whines, his hips undulating as he tries to fuck himself against Eddie’s cock and the palm of his hand.

“Hm, if you’re good, I’ll let you come,” Eddie teases, slowing his stroking. He kisses his way up Steve’s throat, nibbling a little at his ear. “Are you gonna be good?”

“Yes, ‘m good, I’ll be s’good,” Steve pants. “Please!”

Eddie rewards him with picking up the pace and sucking a little mark under his ear, which makes him shudder. “Mm, so good using your manners, baby,” Eddie says, his voice breathy as he tries to stave off his own climax long enough for Steve to get his. “Come for me, babe. Make a mess.”

Apparently, that’s all it takes, and Steve is shooting off against their chests, the head of his dick nestled against the edge of Eddie’s. Something about it, the look on his face, the pulsing of Steve’s dick against his, or maybe the feeling of Steve’s come dripping down his cock, makes Eddie reach his. He comes so hard he almost thinks he’s going to black out, and he knows that’s all Steve.

“Fuck,” Steve whimpers, collapsing forward against Eddie’s chest, his head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was so fucking hot,” he says with a light sigh, his body totally relaxed now.

Eddie laughs, his bones feeling like jello as he slumps against the couch, running his clean hand through Steve’s hair. “Did you like it?” He asks, a little nervous for the answer, despite the physical reaction he’d gotten out of Steve.

Steve snorts. “Did I like it?” He mocks, his eyes crinkling when he smiles at Eddie. “Of course I did. That was possibly the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And that makes Eddie nearly preen with pride. “Good,” he says. He’s still holding his right hand at an awkward angle, trying not to touch Steve with the same hand he used to jerk them both off. He glances down at Steve, who appears to be perfectly content staying there, with no sign that he intends to move anytime soon. “Hey, babe,” Eddie murmurs softly.

Steve makes a humming noise. “Yeah?”

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “How about we go get cleaned up? Would that be okay?”

“But I’m so comfy,” Steve protests weakly. He snuggles further into Eddie then, as if he’s proving his point. Instead, all this does is squish their soft cocks together and smears the come on their shirts.

“I know, but we’re kind of disgusting right now. And you can’t go home with your shirt looking like that,” Eddie explains.

Steve leans back a little, chewing his lip as he studies Eddie, a nervous tic. “Can I sleep here?”

Eddie blinks at him. “Uh… here as in… like on my couch?”

Steve’s face flickers with disappointment, but he shrugs. “Er, yeah, if that’s what you, um… yeah, that’s okay.” He stutters through what sounds like a couple different half-sentences, and Eddie can’t help but smile at him.

“Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” he says. He’d love it if Steve would just sleep in his bed, but he’s not sure that he would be comfortable with that idea. He puts the thought out of his mind, patting Steve’s back. “Okay, let’s go get cleaned, bud. And then I’ll make up the couch for you, and we can actually eat our dinner.”

Steve sighs quietly, and Eddie thinks for a terrible moment that he might change his mind, but then he says, “okay,” and shoves himself up to his feet. He looks down at his shirt, stained with both of their releases, and grimaces. “Uh, have you got a shirt I can borrow?” Steve asks.

Eddie has a very brief vision of Steve, wandering around wearing his clothes. Not even in a sexy way; no, he’s imagining Steve going to class, Eddie’s favorite Metallica tee hugging his broad shoulders. He wonders if everyone in the class would realize it wasn’t Steve’s shirt.

“Yeah,” he croaks out when he realizes Steve is staring at him, waiting. “Yeah, um. We can- there’s clothes in my room,” he says, feeling dumb for even saying that. Obviously that’s where his clothes are. God, he’s stupid.

Steve gives him a little smirk. “Lead the way,” he says easily, stepping back and waving his hand with a flourish.

Eddie shoves himself off the sofa, tucking himself back into his underwear but leaving his jeans unbuttoned. It feels like a lot to make the trip to his room like this, fucked out and filthy, with Steve Harrington trailing behind him, humming fucking - “Steve, is that ABBA?” Eddie asks, tilting his head back enough to look at him, allowing every bit of judgment to seep into his expression.

“Uh,” Steve stalls, and Eddie feels him step on his heel, probably on purpose. “Maybe.”

Eddie shakes his head as he tugs off his shirt, chucking it at the laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom as he steps inside. “Can’t believe you’re singing ABBA in this household. That’s basically sacrilege, you know.” He pilfers through his drawer of all his best band t-shirts, plucking out his very favorite and tossing it to Steve. “Don’t lose this, it’s my favorite,” he warns loudly without looking at him, going back to find himself something.

“Oh, I don’t- you don’t have to give me your favorite shirt, Eddie,” Steve says, despite the fact that he’s putting it on when Eddie turns around. “I’d wear whatever, really.”

And damn, Eddie was right. It really is a sight to see, Steve stood there in his t-shirt, looking at Eddie with those big beautiful eyes. If Eddie wasn’t so spent, his cock would probably be twitching in his pants.

“It’s fine,” he says, shucking off his jeans and grabbing a pair of sweatpants for each of them. “I wanted to see King Steve in a peasant’s clothing, at least once,” he jokes. He’s not sure Steve even remembers that, the whole “King Steve” joke from their high school days, but he doesn’t see the harm in it.

That is, until he catches a look at Steve’s devastated face.

“Stevie?” he asks softly, stepping closer to him. “Did I- what did I say?”

Steve shakes his head, dragging in a deep, shuddering breath. “N-nothing. Just… don’t call me that.” His voice is low, but serious, even as he adds a softer, “please.”

Eddie reaches out, relieved when Steve doesn’t flinch away from the contact. He grips his elbow, rubbing his thumb along the inside crease, and waits for Steve to meet his gaze. “Okay,” he says quietly, watching Steve as he watches his mouth. “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t think about it.”

Steve nods, and Eddie can’t help but coo when he steps closer for a hug. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles against his shoulder. “Hate bein’ sensitive about shit like that, but-”

“Hey, no,” Eddie says, pulling away just enough to get a good look at his face. “I want you to tell me when I cross a line, okay? Because sometimes I don’t realize it. Always tell me, alright?” He kisses Steve’s hair, subtle enough that hopefully he doesn’t even notice it.

“Okay,” Steve says quietly before tugging out of his embrace. It’s sooner than what Eddie prefers, and he aches to have him back in his arms the moment Steve is missing from them. He realizes he’s still just standing there in nothing but his ruined t-shirt and boxers, and the distinct embarrassment of being half-naked while Steve is fully dressed is enough to kick him into gear.

“Here,” Eddie says, holding out the extra pair of sweatpants after he’s tugged his own up his legs. “Unless you want to just sleep in your underwear,” he says, trying not to meet Steve’s eyes.

“These are fine, thanks,” Steve replies, and Eddie forces himself to look away when Steve begins tugging his jeans off.

A few minutes later, they’re both dressed in far more comfortable attire, and Eddie is starving. He leads the way back down the hall to the living room, scooping up their boxes of food and taking it straight to the kitchen to be reheated.

“We’ll have to start the movie over,” Steve says from behind him. When Eddie glances over his shoulder, he finds Steve standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

Eddie grins as he sets the timer on the microwave. “You’re a man after my own heart, Stevie. I figured you’d try to pull the wool over my eyes and pretend you’d been paying attention the whole time.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Hard to pay attention when I’ve got you coming all over my cock, hotshot,” he says, smirking.

Eddie gulps, almost choking on his own spit as he turns to stare at the food rotating in the microwave. He’s not sure how to come back from that one, his brain moving too slowly in the wake of a good orgasm to even come up with a smooth retort. “Well,” Eddie says after an awkward moment of silence. “This time we have to pay attention to the movie. No distractions.”

The microwave beeps, and he carefully takes out the boxes, turning to find the smirk on Steve’s face hasn’t lessened. “No distractions. Scout’s honor.”

~~~

Scout’s honor, my ass, Eddie thinks nearly an hour later.

They’ve long since finished their food, and although Steve had managed to follow along the first part of the movie with minimal questions, Eddie can tell he’s losing patience, wiggling in his seat and casting glances at Eddie repeatedly. Eddie was serious though, he doesn’t stand for menial interruptions during Lord of the Rings time, and won’t pause it for anything less than an emergency.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers after another ten or so minutes of fidgeting.

Of course, hearing his soft voice, all of Eddie’s concerns fly straight out the window. He turns to him with a little smile, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Steve picks at a loose string at the seam of his borrowed sweatpants. “Can you pause it for just a second? I need to brush my teeth and stuff, in case I fall asleep.”

Eddie gives him a playful glare. “You can’t fall asleep during the movie, it’s against the rules!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but drops his head back and whines, playing along perfectly. “But I’m so sleepy,” he argues, batting those pretty little eyes at Eddie.

And of course Eddie can’t argue with that. “Okay, fine. I’ve probably got a spare toothbrush somewhere.” He starts to shove himself off the sofa, but Steve’s voice stops him.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ve got one.”

Eddie pauses, turning slowly to look at Steve. He’s trying so, so hard not to grin. “You just happened to bring one with you?” He drawls, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Steve’s cheekbones flush with color, and Eddie can’t help but poke at them playfully. “Yes, I did,” Steve says petulantly, slapping Eddie’s pestering hands away.

“But you didn’t know you were staying the night,” Eddie says, feigning confusion.

Steve groans, finally breaking. He covers his face, but Eddie doesn’t let that last long, reaching forward and uncovering those beautiful hazel eyes immediately. “I didn’t, but I… I knew I was going to ask.”

Eddie coos at that, can’t help it really. “Aww, Stevie. How long had you been planning that?”

Apparently that’s a line he’s hesitant to cross, because Steve just looks away, back to plucking at the errant strings hanging off his borrowed pants. He shrugs, mumbling something that Eddie doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that, honey?” Eddie asks, reaching out and tugging at the loose thread Steve just released.

Steve sighs, a loud, almost put-upon sort of thing. “I said… I’ve had the toothbrush in my bag for like a week.” His face is decidedly pink now, and Eddie is so damn fond.

He knows he should laugh this off and move on, or try to at least, but one look at Steve’s embarrassed but hopeful face makes him bold. “All you had to do was ask, baby,” he says softly, patting Steve’s knee.

Steve fidgets again, turning so that his knees are pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “But last time, you acted like…” he trails off, somehow looking even more embarrassed than he did before. “Well, anyway,” he says, waving his hand dismissively.

Eddie doesn’t let it go that easily. “Like what?” He asks quietly, saving space for disappointment or regret, but understanding that this is about Steve’s feelings, not his own.

It takes a few long, awkwardly silent moments for Steve to actually make eye contact and respond. When he does finally look at him, Eddie tries to give him a reassuring smile. “It’s stupid,” Steve says, his gaze flickering between his hands and Eddie’s eyes.

“I seriously doubt that,” Eddie says, trying to be reassuring without being patronizing. “And even if it is, I still want to hear it.”

Steve studies his hands very carefully, picking at a hangnail with the utmost precision. He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes when he finally speaks. “I just feel like… like you maybe don’t want me around, sometimes.”

Eddie frowns, ducking his head so that he can say his next words with the full certainty that Steve can actually hear them. “Stevie, no,” he says firmly. He reaches for Steve’s hands, gently clasping each one in an attempt to get rid of Steve’s distraction. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like that.” He hesitates then, uncertain if he should say anything more vulnerable than that. And of course, what he should do very rarely matches up with what he’s going to do, and he finds himself opening his big stupid mouth again. “Really, Steve. I… If anything, I want you around more than I probably should.”

Steve sniffles, blinking those sweet hazel eyes up at Eddie with nothing short of doubt lurking in them. “Really?” he asks.

Eddie can’t help himself, leaning in and pressing a little kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Always. I want you around always.”

He’s not sure what to expect from the confession, but what he gets is Steve sniffling louder, his hand coming up to clutch at the back of Eddie’s neck. For a moment, Eddie panics, thinking Steve is about to pull him into a kiss, a kiss that he knows he won’t be able to put a stop to even if he tries, but instead, he just presses their foreheads together, taking a deep, settling breath. “Okay,” Steve murmurs.

It takes him a moment to collect himself, and even when he does pull away, he doesn’t remove his hand immediately. “You okay now?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, I don’t know why I got so… I get sort of sappy after sex sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Eddie says immediately, shaking his head. “Not for that, and not to me. This is a safe space, remember? You can say anything to me, always.”

A complicated look passes over Steve’s face then, and Eddie has never felt so scrutinized. He can almost imagine Steve walking through the caverns of his brain, inspecting every nook and cranny as he decides what’s worth keeping and what must be discarded. Eddie shivers, unsettled by the intensity of Steve’s expression, and that seems to be what snaps him out of whatever trance he’s in.

“I need to go brush my teeth,” Steve finally says, effectively breaking the tension.

Eddie feels a twin sense of relief and disappointment at that. It had almost felt like… for a moment there, he thought Steve was going to say something else. But surely if he had wanted to say something, he would have. Right?

“Okay,” Eddie replies, scooting away from him on the couch to give him space to go and do what he needs to do. He has a wild, purely self-indulgent thought as Steve is going to grab his bag, and common sense apparently isn’t enough to stop him from saying it. “Hey, if you want to, you can just leave your toothbrush here. That way you’ll have it for next time,” he says, glancing over at Steve and studying him carefully to see his reaction.

Luckily, Steve’s turned mostly towards Eddie, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself. Steve glances up at him, and his lips quirk into a shy smile. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll put it with yours?” he asks.

Eddie nods, feeling a little giddy himself at the prospect. Which is completely ridiculous - something as stupid and simple as their toothbrushes being placed in the same cup is hardly worth freaking out over. And yet… “Perfect,” Eddie says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks.

Steve shuffles off to the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts. He’s not gone for very long, and Eddie has barely made it through one panic-driven cycle of “god, this is wrong, he’s my student, and he was uncomfortable with this at first - wait, what changed?” when Steve returns. He yawns widely as he walks in the room, and Eddie’s nose crinkles at the audible sound of his jaw popping.

“Ew,” he teases. “You’re like a snake, unhinging its jaw to eat a baby.”

Steve gives him a very unimpressed look as he settles back into his place on the couch. “Snakes do not eat babies,” he says with an air of such certainty that Eddie almost doesn’t want to tease him about it.

“Oh but that’s just what they want you to think!” Eddie says, trying to hide his massive grin.

“Sure,” Steve says, rolling his head to the side to give Eddie this little half-amused look. He yawns again, tilting to the side to rest his head on the arm of the sofa, and Eddie realizes how inconsiderate he’s being.

“Shit, I forgot, you’re like, actually tired, aren’t you?” he asks, moving to get up.

Steve’s eyes widen at that, and he tries to disagree, but Eddie can tell from his weak eyes and his posture that he’s exhausted. “No, really, we can finish the movie!” Steve tries, gesturing to the television with one hand.

Eddie shakes his head, standing up and clearing the coffee table of their mess. “Nah, we can finish it another time, bub. You need some sleep.” He takes the trash to the kitchen, washes his hands, and makes his way back to the living room, where Steve is still half-laying down on the couch. “C’mon, gotta take your contacts out,” he reminds him.

Steve grimaces at that, but sits up. “Will you help me? It still kind of grosses me out to do it on my own.”

“Of course,” Eddie replies. “Are your glasses in your bag?”

“Yeah, should be in the case at the top. Contact case is in there, too.”

Eddie dutifully digs it out of the bag, coming to settle on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Steve once he’s got it. “Alright, hold still,” he murmurs softly before reaching out. He’s gotten the hang of this in the several times Steve has asked for his help, and he’s definitely better at removing the contacts than he is at putting them in for him, so he’s glad that Steve’s mostly got that part down pat. Now that his brain is on that wave length, a nagging thought from earlier returns to his mind. “So… when you go to the ear doctor…” he starts slowly, then pauses when Steve tenses.

“Yeah?” Steve asks when Eddie is quiet for a beat too long.

“If you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t have to,” Eddie says softly.

Steve blinks at him, squinting without the assistance of his contacts, and Eddie can’t help but find it incredibly adorable. “It’s fine,” Steve says with a shrug. “No point in beating around the bush. Like… It’s happening.”

Eddie nods. “Right.” He clears his throat and hands Steve his glasses. “But when it does… Are you prepared for them to tell you that you might need something for that? Like…” He doesn’t want to come right out and say it, a little weary of scaring Steve, or just hurting his feelings.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to have that concern for long, as Steve fills in the blanks for him. “Like a hearing aid?” he guesses.

Letting out the breath he’d definitely been holding, Eddie says, “yeah. Like that. I know it’s just partial hearing loss… Or, well, I think that’s what it is, but… if they say that’s the best option, are you comfortable with that?”

Steve is quiet for a long time. If he wasn’t sitting up, his gaze flickering around the room as he thinks, Eddie would think that he’d fallen asleep. He looks sort of lost, and Eddie can’t even begin to imagine what sort of thoughts are racing through his mind. Eventually, his shoulders slump in what Eddie can only describe as resignation, and he sighs. “I… I guess I’ll have to be,” he says quietly.

Eddie is quick to do what he does best, jumping in to reassure him. “Hey, no. If you don’t want to, I’ll press them for another solution. But… if it’s that or surgery…” he gives Steve a sympathetic look.

Steve knocks his ankles against Eddie’s, staring down at their feet. “I don’t want people looking at me,” he whispers.

Eddie almost responds with a joke, but he knows better now. He knows how sensitive Steve is about these things (rightfully so) and so he knows that would just make it worse. “Why do you think they would be looking at you?” Eddie says, trying to choose his words very carefully. “I’m pretty certain they make relatively discreet aids, so people probably wouldn’t even notice.”

“Maybe,” Steve says noncommittally with a shrug. “But… I don’t want people to look at me… and all they see is the glasses and a hearing aid. Especially…” he rolls his eyes, mostly at himself, and gives Eddie a sardonic smile. “This is stupid, but like… I really don’t want people coming to our basketball games and saying, like… ‘Oh, there goes that deaf kid, who can’t see the ball coming at his face! And did you know he can’t fucking read?’ Like…” he shakes his head. “I don’t want that to be my legacy.”

And Eddie doesn’t really get it, not really. He’s not a member of any sport or club, and even being in a band, he doesn’t think he’s ever particularly given a shit what people thought of him, even though he is a little different, but he supposes that’s just the difference in their personalities. He tries to level with him, and see it through his eyes. “Yeah…” Eddie says slowly. “But baby,” he leans in, putting his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing. “That’s not going to be your legacy. People are going to remember you because you were an amazing player, yeah, but you know what I’ll remember about you?”

Steve almost seems shy when he asks, “what?”

Eddie smiles at him, reaching up and tucking his hair over his ear. “I’ll remember that you were kind. And hardworking.” He begins counting things off using Steve’s fingers. “Honest, caring, funny, smart.”

Steve’s eyes are wet. “Eddie,” he says softly, like he’s denying it.

Eddie shakes his head, bringing his hand up to his mouth to kiss his palm. “I’m going to remember that you were brave,” he says gently, holding Steve’s gaze. “That you came to me and Murray for extra help, even though you were embarrassed. That you came back to me, even when I had fucked up and said everything wrong, because you chose to be brave enough to let someone help you.” He brushes his lips across Steve’s knuckles. “I’m not going to remember you for your glasses, or for having something in your ear, if that’s what they decide to do. I’m going to remember you, Steve.”

He means it to be reassuring, a pep talk of sorts, but Steve is fully crying by the end of it.

Great. Scratch “motivational speaker” off any potential future career plans.

At first he can’t tell if they’re sad tears or not, but then Steve is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and muffling his tears against his shoulder. It takes him a few minutes of sniffling to get it under control, but Eddie gives him that time, holding him in a loose embrace and stroking his back gently. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles, not so subtly wiping his nose against Eddie’s shirt. “That was just - really fucking sweet, Eddie. I…” He pulls out of his grip for just a moment, giving him a shaky smile. “Thank you. I really needed that.”

Eddie kisses his cheek. “No problem. I’m always here when you need a pep talk. And maybe next time I won’t make you cry,” he jokes softly, thumbing at a stray tear on Steve’s cheek.

Steve just laughs, naturally good-natured about that. “Yeah, we’ll see,” he teases.

Eddie gives him another warm smile before sighing and standing up. “Let me go get you a couple of blankets, yeah?”

Something like disappointment flashes across Steve’s face for a second, but then he’s nodding, watching Eddie disappear down the hall. When he returns with a stack of blankets and a pillow, Steve offers a little half-smile. “Thanks,” he says, watching Eddie as he spreads a sheet across the couch, fluffing a pillow up at one end.

“You want me to tuck you in, baby?” Eddie asks, mostly joking.

Steve gives him that sweet smile, his eyelashes batting softly against his cheekbones as he nods. “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

It’s decidedly innocent, and means nothing more than Steve just being silly and seeking some form of comfort, but for some reason, Eddie’s face heats up. “Okay,” he says after an awkward pause. “Um… Lay down?”

Steve does just that, scooting around until he’s resting his head against the pillow, his glasses going a bit wonky on his face. “Can you-” he starts, turning his head a bit.

Eddie nods, reaching out and sliding the frames off Steve’s nose and setting them on the coffee table. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. He’s looking up at Eddie with those big doe eyes, and Eddie has to force himself to look away.

He drapes the fuzzy blanket over Steve first, followed by a quilt his grandmother had made before he was ever born. It’s old and is made up entirely of mis-matched patches of plaid and denim, but it’s probably the most sentimental item he owns. “Warm enough?”

Steve nods. “Mhm.” He looks awful cozy in his spot, and Eddie allows himself to be selfish one more time for the night as he leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Alright. Goodnight, bub. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” Eddie says, giving Steve one last look-over to make sure he’s as snug as he can be. He waits for Steve’s quiet hum of agreement, and then he’s retreating to his bedroom, giving Steve one last look over his shoulder before he disappears from his view for the night.

Behind the almost-closed door, Eddie sighs. God, he wishes he’d just have the guts to ask Steve to sleep in here, with him. Not in a sexual way or anything - no, Eddie just wanted to know what it would be like to cuddle with him for a night, to wake up wrapped in each other’s arms. He huffs and puffs to himself as he crawls into his lonely, empty bed, glaring up at the ceiling as soon as his head hits the pillow. It’s not fair, really. Steve being so close, yet so far away. Perfectly within reach, but also very much inaccessible.

He sighs again, louder this time, as if anyone will hear his passive-aggressive moping.

It occurs to him, vaguely, that he could just go right back down the hall and ask Steve if he’d like to sleep in a real bed rather than the couch. And honestly, even if he says no, what does Eddie have to lose? It’s not like Steve’s going to leave in the middle of the night. Then again, Eddie would hate to even make him uncomfortable enough to even think about that… He goes back and forth several times before ultimately deciding - fuck it. Nothing to lose, might as well give it a shot.

He crosses the space between his bed and the door quickly and quietly, a singular thought in his mind as he reaches for the doorknob.

Eddie has just barely pulled the door open when he bumps into something - or rather, someone.

“Oh, shit, I-” he starts to apologize immediately, then pauses when he registers that of course it’s Steve standing in front of his door. His face is drawn comically around an expression of panic, and Eddie tilts his head at him curiously. “Oh. What were you…” he trails off. It would be a little hypocritical of him to start asking questions about motives now, considering what he was just on his way to do himself.

“Um,” Steve says, his eyes wide. Eddie probably nearly gave him a heart attack, swinging the door open like that before the poor guy could even get the chance to knock. “I got… scared?” he tries, the words coming out more like a question than any real statement of fact.

Eddie can’t help his instinct to tease. Crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, he says, “oh, did you?”

Steve blushes. “Um… yeah. It’s like… really dark in there, and… and your fridge makes weird noises, and…”

“Hm,” Eddie says, sucking at his teeth like he’s considering the issue. “Well, that’s no good. I can’t possibly leave you out there all alone to fend for yourself against the… fridge noises.” He can’t help but grin as he says it, and can’t bother regretting it when Steve just blushes harder.

He half-expects Steve to give it up then, out of embarrassment if nothing else, but if there’s one thing about him, it’s that he’ll always see something through. Instead, he just nods, casting a weary glance back down the hall. In doing that, Eddie finally notices that Steve’s got the quilt wrapped around his shoulders. Cute.

“Yeah, it would be really… really irresponsible for you to leave me out there all alone. I think I’d be way safer if I…” he seems to lose confidence then, but the longing glance he sends to Eddie’s bed over his shoulder makes his intentions crystal clear.

“I think you’ll just have to sleep in here with me tonight,” Eddie says, feigning disappointment. “Well, come on, then. I hear the fridge likes to claim its victims this time of night,” he says with a grin, gesturing for Steve to come into his bedroom.

Steve makes it a few steps towards his bed before he turns around, giving Eddie an almost desperate look. “You don’t mind me being in here, do you? Because, like, I can sleep by myself! I just-”

Eddie reaches for him, pulling him in via a tug on the quilt. “Honey. I promise I don’t mind. Actually…” He laughs at himself, shaking his head. “That’s why I was already at my door. I was actually about to come in there and ask if you wanted to sleep in here with me. I felt so guilty leaving you in there with just some blankets and a pillow.”

Steve’s face, which had brightened a little at the confession, falls again by the time Eddie finishes speaking. “Oh,” he says, glancing down. “Well, I mean, I don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch, I really don’t have to-”

“Stevie,” Eddie says, his voice full of exasperation. “Baby, I want you to sleep in here with me. I…” he hesitates, feeling that familiar uncertainty that comes with the prospect of being vulnerable to Steve in some way. “I think it would be nice, to not be alone, and… and it would be even better if it was you I was being not-alone with.”

“Oh,” Steve repeats, his voice even softer now. “Okay, then. Should we, um…” He glances at the bed, but his gaze doesn’t linger. Instead it darts all over the room, taking everything in as if he believes it’ll be the last time he sees it. Eddie hopes, selfishly, that it’s not.

“Let’s go to bed,” Eddie says, nodding. He uses his grip on Steve’s quilt-cape to guide him to the bed, walking backwards himself until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He releases Steve just long enough to crawl up onto the bed, patting the empty space beside him as he wiggles under the covers. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he says, grinning at Steve. “Well, much.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but crawls onto the bed, keeping the quilt wrapped around his shoulders like he’s some kind of little caterpillar. Eddie helps him under the actual sheets and comforter, but Steve seems to have no intentions of letting go of the quilt anytime soon.

Once they’re settled, both of them on their sides facing each other, Eddie yawns. His jaw pops, and they share a grin at the sound. “Like a snake,” Steve murmurs.

It’s silly, but Eddie’s heart swells at the reference to his joke from earlier. “Like a snake,” he echoes.

Steve’s eyes are drooping with exhaustion, and Eddie knows it’s just a matter of time before he loses him to the clutches of sleep. His throat sticks with words he shouldn’t even feel the urge to say, and he clears his throat a few times in an attempt to speak.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve whispers, beating him to the punch.

Eddie nods, feeling ridiculous at the swell of emotion that rises in his throat. Oh, god. He’s really got it bad for him, there’s no way around it.

“Goodnight, Stevie. Sweet dreams.”

Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink.

[simpingcowboy]

Kinktober 2022 Keep A Secret

Day 31: Free choice, Anonymous Sex // Size Kink

Pairing: Max Lord x F!Reader Word Count: 2.4 K+ Warning: SMUT, anonymous sex, piv sex, oral (f! receiving), size kink (aka big dick Max Lord), cervix stimulation, some power dynamics, some rough sex, creampie Summary: An open ad for anonymous sex lands Maxwell Lord in your bed. Can you keep a secret? A/N: No!!! I was a little late to the last day of Kinktober! But I had so much fun :) Thank you to @absurdthrist for her wonderful prompts! Decided to end the month by being a size queen for Max Lord <3

You posted it.

You really posted it.

The reality hit you like a ton of bricks when the paper came that Sunday morning. Right under the personal column. Your ad finally made it to print.

"Looking For Anonymous Sex- Help me live my ultimate fantasy. Seeking something fun and mutually beneficial. Simple. Come to my home, where I'll be waiting bare and pliant for you and use me. I don't want to know you. Not your name, or face anyways. Though I hope we can know many other things about each other. Call me any weeknight after 7pm to talk."

Ending your ad with a basic description, age, body type, ethnicity/race.

It was out there, though part of you was embarrassed to have published such a thing, a bigger part of you was waiting for your perfect knight in armor to answer your call.

The phone rings at 7:30, half an hour past when you'd said you'd be free to call. The sound jolts you from the dishes you'd been doing. It could be anyone you tell yourself, trying to ease your nerves. There was no guarantee it was even about the ad. You grip the phone in hand tightly, anxiety screaming at you not to answer. But you do-

"Hello?"

Max is just as nervous. Calling a stranger up about their sex ad…he felt ridiculous- stupid even. But he couldn't get it any other way. People always knew him. He got recognized everywhere. He wasn't afforded the luxury of anonymity that most people were. Most people who did try to sleep with him were after his money. It was always obvious, and always a total turn off. He just wanted a quick fuck. A tight warm hole to sink himself into after a long day- was that so much to ask for?

"Hello, I'm uh calling about-" fuck how do you even do this? "about the ad?"

"Y-yes…what about it?"

"I'm interested in what you're offering."

You smile softly to yourself. "Brilliant, well…can you tell me a bit about yourself?

Max clears his throat, "Yes. I'm in my 40's, single," he clarifies " average body- I suppose."

"And- if I may ask- how big are you, you know down there?"

You hear a small chuckle on the other end of the line. He was obviously humored by your straightforwardness. It put him a bit more at ease. After all it was your ad he was responding to, he had no reason to be shy. You both wanted this.

"Big." He states boldly. "9 inches." Max hears the small intake of breath you try to hide from him. "Is that enough for you? I keep my hair trimmed too- if that is of concern."

Enough? You think back to yourself. That thing might kill you. "Enough. Definitely enough."

A smirk grows over his face. Max's confidence was often faked, but this was all real. No faking needed. He was packing, he was good, and he knew it. "Good. Any other questions for me?"

"How do you feel about condoms?"

"I wear them every time." One kid is enough he thinks to himself.

"Good answer." You smile over the phone. He seems polite at least "I will host. What days and time work best for you?"

"I am free most weekday evenings."

You're doing it. You're really doing it. You think to yourself, all your late night fantasies are about to come true. "Tuesday 7:30, does that sound good?"

"Yes, that's perfect."

"I will host. Can you take down my address?"

"Y-yes! I'm ready." He replies, scrabbling to take his pen and paper in hand.

You offer up your address. Some nerves still rising to the surface. A stranger. You're offering up your home to a stranger. And soon you'll be giving him much more than that.

He speaks for the final time. "I will see you then. Tuesday 7:30 pm."

"Until Tuesday." With that you hang up the line. You practically fall to the floor, unable to believe it.

And so…you wait.

On your back, legs spread on the bed. Already dripping with anticipation. You fill the time by focusing on your breathing, and running your hands over the soft sheets. Excitement building in you with each passing moment.

Max comes in and locks the door behind him.

He enters slowly. He'd driven himself there, not even wanting his driver to know where he'd gone. Looking around, he makes lots of little notes about you. You'd obviously cleaned up before he'd arrived, still there were so many little pieces of your character all over the apartment.

A shuffling noise catches his attention, his cock jumps at the sound. You're here- this is about to happen. He quietly shuffles into the bedroom, eyes going wide when he sees you. That pretty blindfold on, you probably didn't even know he was looking at you right now. He admires the sight of you. Even from the doorway he could see the glisten of your folds, the deep breaths you were taking in anticipation of his arrival. He could look at you forever, but that would have to wait another day. For right now, all his blood was rushing to a different head.

He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you. Max puts a hand on the bed, a silent announcement of his arrival. He slowly broaches into your space, his fingers just barely dusting over your arm. A soft whine escaping you. Electricity racing through your body as he touches you for the first time. A wave of slick flooding out of you as the sensation. He's real and he's here!

"Pretty thing…waiting so patiently for me." He purrs at you.

The stranger's voice is even nicer in person. That accent elevates a level of curiosity about him. Who was the man with the thick sultry voice? There was an odd sense of familiarity to his voice. You're almost certain you've heard it before…

His moves are emboldened by your whine, a cry for him. "I'll take care of you, Hermosa." He allows himself to slip into his mother tongue. You weren't exactly in a position to judge him either way. He runs a large hand over your chest, palming at your breasts. Enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch.

"¡Qué Bonita! I will enjoy playing with you." He affirms, giving another long glance over your frame, his eyes settling between your legs.

His breath catches at the sight. Your folds glimmered in the soft light of your room. You were already so affected by him. Max makes his way between your legs, a hand never leaving you. Without a word, he leans down taking a long lick up your core. A loud moan rips through your body at the intrusion. The stranger eagerly laps at your wet cunt, greedily taking in your taste. He suddenly pulls away from you, a whine coming from you.

"I'll do more next time, Bebita. Now I want to see what you will do for me."

A large finger burrows itself into you, letting him feel how tight you'll be. Already he was planning for next time. Planning all the ways he'd enjoy you if you let him. He pulls out all too quickly. Hand moving down to free his hard cock from his pants. He thinks briefly about taking his time to undress before deciding he doesn't want to be that vulnerable yet. Then you feel it. He rubs the length of his long cock along your mound, letting his precum leak over your sex.

"Do you feel me Hermosa?¿Te gusta? Touch." He grabs your hand, bringing it to his cock, letting you feel along the length. It's heavy. A strong pulse running through the entirety of it.

You whimper at him, desperate to have it in you. "Please? Please fuck me!"

A smirk grows along his face. "Let me put a condom on first, Cariño." He pulls back momentarily, pulling a condom from his pocket and putting it on. He returns your hand to him. "You feel it's on, yes?

This is when you decide you like this stranger. "Yes, I feel it." His thoughtfulness brings a warm heat to your face.

"Good," he smiles at your softened expression, obviously not expecting him to have shown you that he did actually put the condom on. "Are you ready?"

You nod expectedly, "Please- I want it!"

He lines himself up, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick gathering it along his cock. "Gonna feel so good." He slowly sinks himself into you.

The thickness of his cock almost threatening to rip you open. In this moment you feel so glad he'd taken the opportunity to eat you out- even if just for a couple minutes. You'd need all the lube you could get to take him. Then he sinks and sinks and sinks into you…it almost feels like he never stops. He hits along your back wall, the sensation panging you with a soft pain. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Your hand goes down to touch where you're connected, realizing he's not even in all the way yet.

"Dios mio...Gonna have to go slow…tight little thing." The stranger rocks his hips, urging you to take more of his incredible length. "Just like that."

As soon as he sunk into you it's like all his problems disappeared. The stress of these last days, weeks, months instantly being lifted off his shoulders. You felt like heaven around him, tight and perfect.

He smiled to himself as he hit along your cervix. "Sweet Bebita," He leaves a series of kisses along your neck. 'It'll fit. Just relax for me." He fucks you with slow, shallow thrusts, carving you open for him. "Qué bonita...Ay, mí pequeña princesa... Eres perfecto." His praise continues to fall from his lips as he kisses you all over.

Finally, he makes it in. His cock fully buried to the hilt. You both sigh out in relief. You're so full, and frankly- amazed he made it in all the way. The way he rubs against your cervix was a new sensation. It was a sharp feeling, not the most comfortable but not painfully either. But just knowing he was so deep in you was enough to make it worth it. Each thrust of his hips stuffing you so full.

"Good girl. Taking all of me." The stranger grips your hips tightly. "Now, I'm going to really fuck you."

That was just the start of it. Now it'd became a regular thing. You two got more comfortable together over time. You'd also gotten much more accustomed to his length overtime, slowly you began to think you'd never be able to take anything smaller again. Eventually you even decided that condoms were no longer a necessity. Even with so much shared between you two, you held limited knowledge about him, other than the intense pleasure he provided you. But that's just how you both liked it.

This time was the same as always. He'd silently enter your home, knowing you were patiently waiting for him. No words were ever exchanged outside of an announcement of his arrival.

"There you are." He'd say, running his large hand up your body. "Missed you."

This time he had you on your hands and knees, bent over for him. Letting him fuck you an inch within your life. He was relentless. An incredible stamina for a man his age. With time and trust you'd began getting kinkier. Letting him get rougher, fill different holes, truly use you in all the ways you desire.

He fucked into you hard. Your shared cries of pleasure filling the empty space of your apartment. The harsh sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls with each brutal snap of his hips. He loves this. This arrangement was all he ever wanted, and you were always so good for him. Now that he had it, he barely knew how he ever did without it.

The stranger gripped onto your head tightly, contorting your neck up straight. He leveraged you to pound impossibly deeper, harder. Each thrust into you rubbing the long length of him against your g spot. Unknown to his, with each pull of your hair, the blindfold slowly slipped off your eyes. You didn't notice either until you'd opened your eyes. You squinted, adjusting to the light. But before you got the chance to say anything- you saw it. His reflection in the mirror.

No- it couldn't be. Oh but it could… You couldn't pry your eyes away. That usually perfectly molded blonde hair flopped in front of his brow. Those dark brown eyes, now lust blown. That perfectly crescent nose snarled up in a groan. You did know that accent…you'd heard it a million times on TV before.

Max Lord.

You'd been fucking Maxwell fucking Lord.

When you stopped moaning for him he knew something was off. His eyes snap up to meet yours in the mirror. Momentarily mesmerized by the sight of your eyes for the first time. He quickly shifts into an impassioned glare. He knew that you recognized him by the way you stared open mouthed in awe at his reflection. A large hand comes up to cover your eyes, blocking your view of him. Max leans down, his softened stomach pressing along your back. He leans in close and dangerous into your ear.

In a low growl he tells you "Shh, don't ruin this."

Within a minute, he's cumming, filling you up with ropes of his cum. He pants over you breathing heavily from his orgasm. Those large warm arms you'd grown so familiar with wrap around you in a tight embrace holding you tight to him.

"You won't say anything? Will you, Hermosa?"

Your mind races with a thousand questions…like 'Why would alleged playboy millionaire Maxwell Lord be looking for girls in the local newspaper?' but he was too good…this arrangement was too good. And you'd be damned before you gave it up that easily. "No…no I won't."

"Good girl."

He readjusts the blindfold, recovering your eyes. Max slowly slips out of you, shuffling his way off the bed.

"I'll see you next week." He says simply while redressing himself and just as always- silently slipping his way out of your home.

[evanisalittlelost]

Well... my research paper is done, and I turned it in.

I think my professor hates me.

This paper counts for mid-terms. The look I got from him when he glanced over it did not give me any hope. None.

I don't know if I should cry or beat up a trash can in the ally. I could do both.

Now I'm waiting on my grade, which won't be out until Monday or Tuesday. That's fine, I can totally handle it.

At least I am off of work tonight. Tomorrow I have to work from 11 am to 6 pm and then I'm going out to this new place in town with Patty.

In the meantime, I've got an update on that case with the two kids in the abandoned factory...

So, it was two urban explorers that decided to go check out the factory. Well, they stumbled into a demon summoning cult while there. Unfortunately, the cult found them and decided to use the two guys as a sacrifice. It's the classic horror movie stuff, but thankfully, Dad was able to get them out of there in time. However, the cult still managed to summon a bunch of demons.

It's all in a day's work for Dad. Well, sort of. The bad news is that one of the guys is in really bad shape. He's at the hospital now in the ICU, but from what I hear, he's stable. Other than that, the problem was quickly taken care of and without further incidents.

Oh, and Dad accidentally broke the jukebox... again. Don't ask me how. It was broken before I got home from classes. He isn't saying anything either. I walk in the door, and he's in his usual spot pretending to read a magazine.

Feigning innocence.

Anyway, that's all I've got for today. Not really that eventful. Just school stuff and my Dad being himself.

[nancypullen]

It's Tuesday and I'm Tired

It's 8:22pm and I swear I'm fighting the urge to go to bed. I've done a lot today - cranked out earrings, mopped the floors, two loads of laundry, weeded and watered, stained the wood that Mickey will use to make earring displays for me, and so on. I made good use of my hours, but I'm whipped. I didn't use to get tired from busy days. Is it age or have I allowed myself to get lazy? Either way, it's not fun. BUT...tomorrow will be fun. We've got several errands to run in Easton, and I'll be in STORES.

Granted, one of the stores is Lowe's, so that doesn't really count, but I'll also be in Michael's and maybe even Target or Kohl's. It's like a vacation! Do I sound excited? Is that sad? Know what's not sad? I've made tons of progress with earring inventory! The Halloween batch is coming right along. I have my sister's approval on these polka dot sets. I ask her opinion when I'm not sure, and she gave these the green light.

And those ghosts have been glittered and glazed.

Speaking of my wonderful, kind, generous, and thoughtful sister...look what she sent to me!

Stacks and stacks of beautiful paper! I feel like I won the lottery. I'l explain. That scrapbooking paper is what I use to make my cards and I can't find it around here. The JoAnn's in Easton only sells fabric and limited craft supplies. Michael's in Easton has a sparse supply of paper that never changes and it's mostly baby shower and wedding stuff. They still have Valentine and Easter paper out from last spring. I could drive an hour to Hobby Lobby in Dover but I don't like Hobby Lobby, and if their website is correct there's not much paper in stock anyway. So I've had to order online and pay extra per sheet pus shipping. Not good. My sister popped into the JoAnn store nearest to her and scooped up all of this fabulous paper at ten sheets for $3. I have ten sheets of each pattern and I can make 4 cards from each sheet. SCORE!! Even better, she included the blue plastic storage bin! I can't tell you what a relief it is to have this in my supply cabinet. I can coast a long time on this oh-so-generous gift from my sister. I should have taken a prettier photo of this bounty, but I was so excited when I opened the box that I snapped that between happy dances. I'm thrilled to my toes! That's it from me tonight. I'm heading upstairs for a long soak and a hard sleep. I'll be taking this pretty girl with me.

This one, too. She just refuses to pose.

The girls and I wish you a lovely evening and the sweetest of dreams. Stay safe, stay well.

XOXO, Nancy

[tripleyeeet-archive]

*calmly puts on the suit and takes the microphone*

Hello everyone, and welcome back to Tuesday Interview!

I'm your host Annie and we're back once again with the writer that has stolen all of our hearts, Summer! Please, let them hear your appreciation!!!

Now, back to business! On October the 14th this amazing author blessed us with the second chapter of "Curse You!" and it was just as good as we all anticipated! The scene with the Illithid and the insertion of the tadpole was marvellously written, the perfect mix of disgusting and perfect prose. Quoting ~ Shy Anon in their latest ask:

"The description was gross. I hated it. I can still feel my skin crawl if I think about it. I can feel the panic that Zayis felt. It was gross. It was marvelous."

And the banter? The (not quite) married bickering? The tension still hanging in the air between our favourite unhinged protagonists? SCRUMPTIOUS! And as @morkify and @starved-kitten pointed out in their lovely comments, the brain dog was absolutely ADORABLE! Summer, how do you feel about the fan reaction to the little brain dog? And do you have any information for us regarding his future?

(Also, personally speaking, I quite enjoyed the side appearance of Gale but I will no hijack the Tuesday Interview ask to scream about Gale Dekarios... not today...)

What a strange interference... NOW! For those who missed it, a couple of days ago Summer has both opened and closed their requests, and has already blessed us with a couple of beutiful and amazing short blurbs! I'd really recommend checking them out during the wait for the next chapters of both "A Lover's Folly" and "Curse You!"

(*coff coff* especially the Gale one *coff coff*)

Mmm, again with the interference... Anyway, Summer! Back to the requests. I've heard the amout you received was bigger than what you expected. How did it feel going back to writing them after a while? Easier or more difficult?

wow look at me responding to this on tuesday instead of wednesday!! who am i?

anyway, just want to say thanks to everyone who's reading!! it's so nice and sweet and all of your comments have really helped this past week <3 hopefully i can get the next chapter of curse you out soon because it's my baby that constantly takes up my brain until i can put it onto paper.

that being said, i don't know if i have any information regarding the future of it? other than the next chapter is going to be one of my faves because it introduces some more of the party members! :)

in regards to requests, i uh... yeah i got a lot. way more than i was expecting so unfortunately i can't to all of them. however, i'm gonna keep them in my inbox for a while in case some inspo strikes because i did get quite a few interesting ones!

also, to answer your last question it's been easy aside from having to limit the word count. because i tend to get a little too into things i sometimes grossly miscalculated the length of my idea and end up with way too much. i definitely had to dial it back a bit and rework some ideas.

so yeah! thanks for the tuesday interview annie <3

[redwineconversation]

Bordeaux - OL Thoughts

I'm not exactly a fan of waking up at 3.45 am to catch a game, even for Lyon, but a Lyon-Bordeaux clash is one of the games I will drag myself out of bed for.

So what did we learn from this match? Nothing we didn't really already know, but let's chat about them anyway.

I joked when Carpenter tore her ACL that Bompastor's solution was simply going to pretend Lyon has no right side, and with Cascarino's injury, that unfortunately came to fruition (and is one of my main concerns about the Arsenal game, which I will try to chat about either tomorrow or Tuesday).

Bompastor chose to put Becho in for Cascarino, which looks good on paper but less so in practice. I do think that Becho has a lot of potential, and where better to explore it than at Lyon. I get why she is one of the youngsters Lyon decided to poach from PSG's youth academy. The talent is there, I am not contesting that.

But the maturity is not there either. She makes a lot of rash decisions, sometimes relying more on emotion than she does instinct. It's not necessarily a bad thing - at the core, it's the same thing Bacha did when she was 16 - but she hasn't yet learned to control her emotions, to use them correctly. It's one of those things I am assured will come with time, but with Lyon's current status of being crippled by injury, I'm not sure that she is the best option.

That being said, Lyon also doesn't exactly have a lot of other options either, so it's one of those things which simply it is what it is and Lyon is going to have to hope for the best.

Sombath's injury concerns me. As I said, Lyon is already crippled by injury and the thought of possibly losing Sombath for a finite amount of weeks is far from reassuring. She is having a trial by fire season so far, and while again that is cause for concern - she literally only turned 19 today - there are still echoes of Selma Bacha in her career path. Sometimes you only know who you are when you don't have any other options.

Injury concern aside, I really do think that Sombath is flying under the radar, which does make me want to scream "we saw this with Bacha!!! Trust my judgment when it comes to the kids!!!" It's fun when you get to see a young player discover themselves right in front of your eyes. Lyon forces you to learn, and learn quickly, whether or not you really have what it takes to be a world class player. And that's kind of cool, if you ask me. I mean, ruthless too, but also cool.

Van de Donk is going to be gassed come November with her current play rate, but again, it's not like Lyon has an infinite amount of options for the No. 10 position at the moment. My concerns about Marozsan remain (and will continue to remain until proven wrong), which does mean that van de Donk and van de Donk alone is expected to take control of the Maserati. Unlucky not to score, but her eyes are beginning to mold into what you would expect from a Lyon player with a point to prove. I'm curious what her eyes will look like come Wednesday, and really do believe no one knows for sure how van de Donk is going to cope with Case of the Ex.

I wish my boss was as forgiving as Bompastor is when Malard consistently fucks up, no matter the consequences.

We see the difference between when Henry plays as a No. 6 versus when she plays CB. She's just so much more comfortable in her natural position. Bruun's goal should have counted because the ball was not completely out of play; that being said, if it had been the opposing team who would have done that, I would have been complaining extremely loudly that the ball was out of play, so whatever. It goes both ways depending on how bad a loser you are.

I think Bordeaux's current league rankings are deeply misleading. Patrice Lair is an extremely good coach, who used to coach Lyon, and knows what he is doing when it comes to getting the best of the players at his disposal. Bordeaux is a team that can cause a lot of problems for the top teams.

Lyon is truly so crippled by injury at the moment that we are really forced to take it one game at a time. This team will look different in January when the top players are expected to be back. In the meantime, one game at a time, one day at a time.

We'll know probably in two months and five days whether this team still believes that monsters recognize monsters.