tagged by the lovelies @actualalligator @tizniz thank u babies! <33
here's some more of the sexting fic bc i love coding on ao3!! and im having so much fun ksjsjsjd
His uniform pants are starting to feel a little too tight and Eddie’s dlushed and nervous, paranoid that someone will come up from behind him and read Buck's raunchy, stupid texts.
A part of him wants to be mad, but another part of him— a small, very deep one that Eddie is trying his best to ignore— kinda likes this? The fact they're doing this at work, it sends a little thrill of exciting danger and adrenaline up his spine.
Buck brings up this side of him that Eddie never thought or knew he had. It's annoying and intoxicating and electrifying in the best of ways.
tagging (no pressure): @monsterrae1 @buddierights @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @loveyouanyway @devirnis @bigfootsmom @spotsandsocks @father-salmon @underwater-ninja-13 @giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck @thosetwofirefighters @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @thewolvesof1998 @sunshinediaz @excuseme-greentea @maygrantgf @evanbegins @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @wikiangela @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @rogerzsteven @gayedmundodiaz and anyone else who wants to do it!! <33
Lokius. Loki sends a lewd video to Mobius while they're apart. It will only go downhill from here. 😏
He flipped open his tempad and typed a quick message to Loki.
”I miss you so much. Hope everything is going well.”
The response was instantaneous.
”It's boring but all good. This is how much I miss you.”
Attached was a video. Mobius pressed play before his brain caught up with him, and his screen was filled with Loki, or more specifically of them touching themself and moaning wantonly, whispering his name.
He shut down his tempad with such force, his face burning and heart hammering in his chest. He scanned the hallway, which was thankfully empty, and then he slumped against a wall and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Little scamp,” he breathed, his lips curving slightly. If anyone was going to misuse TVA property to get their rocks off, it was Loki.
There was another ping from his tempad. Mobius opened his eyes and looked down, eyeing the device suspiciously, hoping if it was another video he wouldn't press play again like a dumbass. When he opened it, he saw it was a text from Loki.
”Now you. Show me how much you miss me.”
“Shit.” This really wasn't the time or place for this kind of game, but as he got another ping from Loki urging him to respond, Mobius quickly typed a message and headed to his apartment.
”Give me a second.”
Tags below the cut
Tagged by @eriquin @kcscribbler @lokimobius @boredintjqueen
Summary: Sylvie misses Matt a little more than usual, and ends up sending a text with a meaning Matt has trouble deciphering.
Words: 3.2K
A/N: I'm not religious, but Lord please forgive me for this lmao
********
It’s only been a few weeks since her last visit with Matt, but a few weeks is enough to make Sylvie miss him like hell.
Something about it feels different this time around. They had a few particularly exhilarating rounds the morning before her departure while the boys were out for brunch with their friends. Maybe it’s the memory of her urgent moans, her trembling skin, his gorgeous smile and wicked hands. It feels like just yesterday. So, now, she’s stuck here in Chicago and starts feeling her longing shift from romantic to sexual as well. The change shifts in her slowly, like tectonic plates, until it consumes her. The plates collide, forming this volcano poking out of her earth. And it’s going to explode at one point, she knows that much. Missing him one way is hard enough but missing him both ways at once? It’s killing her. It’s molten lava and it’s actually killing her.
Maybe that desperation is why she does it. Maybe she just needs to do something wild and different to appease the grumbling threat of eruption. But for whatever reason, she pulls out her phone one that morning while she’s on the last few hours of her shift and prepares to send him something. Something bold.
Sending a text saying “Hi honey, I’m horny” would be way too blunt and weird (no matter how alliterative it is). No, she wants to be more subtle about it. She can be sexy over text, right? Coy, even? Yeah, definitely. The more she starts to think about it, the more she realizes that yeah, she could have some fun with this.
So she throws caution to the wind. If she’s learned anything from these past few months of long-distance, it’s that plans don’t mean squat. Things rarely go according to plan for them, no matter how hard they try to organize and schedule something. Spontaneity is key, really.
Screw it. She types out a short message and adds a few… explicit emojis, to put it delicately. Her thumbs feel numb as she types it and her toes clench in anticipation (and in excitement) as she hits send. When she does, she looks around twice to see if anyone’s near her to have seen that happen. The bunk room is empty. Everyone must be in the common room, she thinks. She’s as thankful for that as she is thrilled at the part that she could have been wrong and someone could have caught her in an act so defiantly empowering. But slowly, and then all at once, the second-guessing kicks in.
Holy shit. Did she just try to start sexting her boyfriend? Isn’t she a little old for this?
What will Matt think?
Somehow, her questions and concerns seem to make it feel like an even better decision. It fills her with a certain excitement and rush of adrenaline that lights her cheeks up and makes her stomach feel like a kid rolling down a hill in a tractor tire. Even if it never pans out to anything, even if she takes some teasing from Matt, she’ll consider it a valiant effort. Sylvie Brett can be fun and modern and sexy, and Matt’s the only one who could bring that side of her out. Even from over a thousand miles away.
Stella decides to come into the common room at that moment, and Sylvie clicks the power button on her phone faster than she can blink.
“Hey, Gallo needs a fourth player for Crazy Eights. Wanna join?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sylvie agrees, her voice coming out uneven as she struggles to keep the pinkish colour creeping up on her cheeks at bay. “I’ll join you.”
“Awesome,” her friend exclaims in return. For a second, Sylvie thinks she’s successfully gotten rid of Stella (which she’s never actually wanted before, so it feels strange to admit to it) for a minute to collect herself. Not a second later, she’s proven horribly wrong when the small smile she can’t fight is noticed by Stella as they walk out of the common room and into the hall.
“Ok hold on,” Stella interjects abruptly, coming to a stop. “You’ve got that mischievous smirk on your face. Spill it, what’s got you in this mood?”
“What? Nothing, I don’t have any smirk on my face,” she protests. Even as she’s saying it though, she has to actively fight the urge to let her hands fly to her face and cover the blush she undoubtedly has and the sweat that will inevitably come.
“Ok, you look like you’re about to start sweating. That’s your tell, girl. You’re like the worst liar ever,” Stella points out, narrowed and unconvinced eyes scanning the blonde. “Come on, spill.”
“Ugh, fine. I… I may or may not have uh… sent a dirty text to Casey,” she admits. Her lips purse almost immediately after in an attempt to hide how insanely thrilling it is for her to say it out loud.
Immediately, Stella’s jaw drops open and she grabs Sylvie by the shoulders. “Oh my god, are you serious?”
“Yep,” she confirms, awkwardly popping the p at the end.
One of Stella’s hands moves to clutch at her heart and she lets out a whine Sylvie interprets as being celebratory. “Girl, you are my hero.”
“I think you need new heroes then,” Sylvie jokes half-assedly, though her mind is still on the text she sent and her cheeks are still flushed from the adrenaline.
“So come on, show me what you sent.”
“What? No way!”
“Oh come on! Severide and I live together. We hardly get far enough away from each other to do any of the classic long-distance stuff, and the last time we did I ended up giving him radio silence. Sexting was out of the picture. Don’t let me be punished forever, Brett! Just let a girl live vicariously through her friends!”
Sylvie narrows her eyes amusedly at Stella. She really, actually, genuinely wants to see it, doesn’t she? Part of her is still screaming to keep it to herself but the other part of her, the part that wants to keep reliving that excitement she felt when she hit send, overpowers everything else. So, reluctantly and only after a beat of silent thought, she caves. “Fine, here.”
Pulling up the text only takes a few minutes but when she does show it to Stella, a shit-eating grin sprawls across her face. It makes Sylvie immediately self-conscious, and she starts backtracking. “Ok, yes, it was cheesy. I was just missing him so much, and the last time we saw each other was weeks ago and I just--”
“Ah ah ah,” Stella interjects. “Don’t you dare start feeling bad about this now, Sylvie Brett. I mean, who the hell would feel ashamed about this? That’s some confident texting right there, I highly approve. Get it, girl.” Her slow and approving head nods make Sylvie laugh but they’re stopped quickly as Stella voices another thought, adding a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think Casey will keep it going?”
“Oh God no,” Sylvie snorts lightheartedly. “I love Matt, but he’s a bit of a luddite. His rule of thumb with technology is generally that unless it broadcasts the latest Cubs game, he doesn’t care how it works. I doubt he even knows what my message means.”
“Fair. But you never know, he could pick up on it somehow,” she tries arguing hopefully.
“I doubt it. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll just explain it to him next time I visit.”
“Yeah, or there’s always the phone, if you wanna… y’know…” Stella explains with a sly wink and a click of her tongue.
“Oh God, I'm ending this conversation,” Sylvie mumbles between laughter, shaking her head.
The two of them giggle at that, and continue to laugh until they make it back to the common room. In all honesty, Sylvie does find it kind of funny. Matt’s lack of knowledge on current online lingo is as endearing as it is hilarious. That message, no matter how exciting it was to send, was more for her than it was to get him to respond. She simply… wanted to feel like she could still have fun with Matt over long-distance.
She stares at the text one more time as she sits down at the common room table, smiling to herself as she joins in on the game of Crazy Eights that Gallo’s started dealing for.
********
Normally, Matt’s weekends now consist of sitting down to watch whatever game is on with the boys.
It’s a tradition he started pretty quickly after he moved to Oregon. He wanted Ben and Griffin to have structure in their lives and a routine, and watching sports seemed like the easiest way to get them to spend time together with just the three of them. It was the idea Ben had the fewest objections to, and the one that allowed them to destress a little bit. So they’ve gotten in the habit of making a morning out of it. Breakfast, pajamas, TV. It’s not half bad.
Only Matt’s phone pings while the boys are in the kitchen looking for the maple syrup, and he thinks it’s the first time their morning has been interrupted.
It’s not an issue, really. Ben’s on his phone half the time during these things anyway and Griffin sometimes does homework while watching the TV whenever the senior workload starts piling up. Matt also relies on his phone a lot more now— honestly, that block of metal is the one thing keeping him connected to the woman he loves, so can you blame him for treating it like a lifeline?— so the notification puts him instantly on alert.
“You got a text?” Griffin asks from the kitchen. His voice is muffled by the pantries he’s still rifling through. “Is it from Sylvie?”
“Yeah,” he confirms as he sees the big bold letters saying: NEW MESSAGE - SYLVIE BRETT. His phone’s at that dumb setting where he has to open his phone to be able to read the message though, so he doesn’t know what she’s sent quite yet. “She’s probably just saying hi to me and to you guys.”
“Hi, Sylvie,” Ben and Griffin reply in unison, casually and as if she’s just entered the room. They know she can’t hear them but Matt’s noticed that, especially after her last visit for Griffin’s birthday, the boys have a habit of doing that merely to tell Matt to tell Sylvie they say hi. It’s about as affectionate as they’ll get for teenage boys.
Matt smiles at their greeting as they continue to search for the maple syrup, but then he opens the message. He opens it, and sees something he feels is modern hieroglyphics. Sylvie sent him a line of emojis— ones that make zero sense whatsoever when put together in that order.
What the hell is this?
At first he thinks it could be a pocket dial, or a typo even. But she would have corrected herself by now, wouldn’t she? Sylvie always makes a point of having proper spelling in her texts. And there’s a small message attached to it too. “Missing you extra”. That rules out an accidental text. So then what do these damn emojis mean?
Matt lets out a confused grunt which gains the attention of the boys until soon, he feels them make their way over to the family room from the kitchen.
“What’s got you grunting like that?” Griffin asks while sitting down next to him on the couch.
“Ah, nothing,” he dismisses with the wave of his spare hand. “Just having trouble understanding this text Sylvie sent me.”
“Did you accidentally set your text font size too small again? I thought I showed you last time how to change it in settings. Here, I can help you,” Ben offers, holding out his hand.
“No, it’s not that. She sent me this- this code, or something. There’s a little fire and splashing water, a bed, and some… vegetables, I guess? Maybe she’s trying to describe the calls 51 has had this shift. It could mean she responded to a house fire. Should I be worried? I can’t really tell what she’s trying to say.”
A look is exchanged between the two boys, one silently communicating something that Matt can’t discern. The smiles they’re fighting back can’t mean anything good though.
“Here, let us see it—” the two boys say, not quite in unison but with matching intensity as they lurch forward and peer at his screen before he can stop them.
“Oh my god,” Ben gawks suddenly, his mouth agape. “That’s what she sent you?”
“Yeah. Why? Is it bad?”
“You don’t know what that means?” Griffin asks from beside him on the couch. The fact that he’s very noticeably trying to hold back laughter is not lost on Matt.
“No, it’s just a bunch of random- emoticons, o-or whatever you call them,” he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand towards his phone. “Do you know what they mean?”
“Er, yeah,” Griffin admits hesitantly.
“And it’s goooood,” Ben adds in a teasing sing-song. It earns a scornful whack of his shoulder from his older brother.
“Would you two just cut it out and tell me what it is already?”
“Ok,” Griffin sighs. “It means…” He leans in to whisper the significance of the emojis, one by one and then their meaning altogether, in Matt’s ear.
As soon as Griffin finishes his explanation, Matt’s cheeks turn fifty shades of pink and he quickly yanks the phone to his chest to block the screen from the boys. It earns an amused snort from Ben but he doesn’t care because holy shit, Sylvie Brett sent him all of that. She felt bold enough and safe enough and loved enough to do that and… God, that’s sexy. But it’s also private. What goes on between them is theirs and theirs only. And it especially shouldn’t be shown to his teenage foster kids. Jesus.
When he stops stammering and finally finds his voice again through the fit of laughter the boys are giving, he manages to speak. “I don’t want to know how you know what all of that meant,” he mumbles, his cheeks still flushed. “And you both definitely should not be looking at that.”
“I hate to break it to you, Matt, but this stuff’s common knowledge,” Ben explains from over his shoulder, now resting his elbows on the back of the couch and leaning in. Matt cranes his neck to face him, watching the wistful tsk! sounds that Ben makes. “It’s like Sexting 101.”
“I’m going to pretend you did not just say ‘Sexting 101’ to my face,” Matt grumbles. “Because if I didn’t, I’d ground you until you were 25.”
“And I thank you for not doing that,” he immediately adds. “But my point is, it’s pretty textbook stuff.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Ben confirms.
“Ok, so I’ll just send the same thing back then?“
“No! No,” the guys intervene at the same time, but only Ben continues. “That’s worse than leaving her on opened. It’ll make her think you’re too lazy to come up with a response of your own.”
“Jesus, I’m never going to figure this out,” Matt huffs. “This is why I hate technology.”
“Relax, it doesn’t have to be fancy. Just respond with the truth. How does it make you feel?”
Matt purses his lips together and furrows his brows. “I don’t think you’re old enough to hear that.”
Immediately, he hears Ben howling from over his shoulder.
“Dude, shut up,” Griffin hisses as he turns around to Ben. When he turns back to Matt, he continues. “Ignore him. You don’t have to tell us how it makes you feel, just tell her that.”
“Ok,” he agrees reluctantly. “Ok, fine. I’ll try that.”
“That’s the spirit! Don’t give up hope,” Ben responds. “And when in doubt, you can always send a—”
“Nope, nuh-uh,” Griffin stops his younger brother, clasping a hand over Ben’s mouth. “Don’t dig yourself a hole you can’t crawl out of.”
“Fair point.”
“Right, okay,” Matt sighs. “I’ll figure something out. Now, uh… let’s pretend this never happened, alright?”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Griffin and Ben both take their turns promising him, uttering the same teasing response. Griffin gives a supportive smile, Ben a teasing wink, and then they both slink off to their rooms.
It’s not like he didn’t expect this to be a thing. Long-distance relationships have a hell of a lot of downsides but lack of physical proximity, not being able to touch her, feel her next to him or press his lips into hers whenever he feels like it, that’s without a doubt the most… frustrating downside of them all. Frustrating in every sense of the word. He knows it must be the same for her too if she’s resorting to… sexting, as Ben says (a term which he himself uses very reluctantly). So of course he’ll do anything to please her and make her happy, including play along with this. Truth be told, it might be kind of fun.
That is, it would be if he knew the slightest thing about technology.
He’s known for years now that he’s a total luddite (as Sylvie always calls him with a teasing twinkle in her eye). But it’s never been a serious problem up until now. If he can’t keep up with the lingo then he won’t be able to tell her all the things he wants to tell her.
But hey, it’s like Griffin said: keep it simple. He doesn’t need a fancy emoji code, right? Speak from the heart. Tell her how it makes him feel. That’s his forte. It took fucking years for him to finally do that and he regrets not being able to do it sooner but dammit, telling her how he feels is what he’s good at and no one can take that away from him.
So, after sucking in a sharp breath, he throws caution to the wind and answers her message with what Griffin told him to: how he feels.
You’re killing me here, baby. I can’t stop thinking about you.
It’s not much, but it’s honest. All he has to do is wait for a response.
********
Sylvie stares at her screen after shift.
She’s sitting in her car, not even having had the chance to leave her parking spot by the firehouse before her phone pinged. When she pulls up the notification and sees the message— Matt’s message— her jaw drops and the only thing she can do is stare at her screen. Who could blame her? Look at the message he sent her.
That message. That sexy, simple, short, totally Matt Casey, insanely sexy, yearning fucking message. Did she mention sexy? She feels that merits three mentions.
If her car’s at forty miles per hour driving home, then her heart’s at eighty from that message alone. The image of it is burned into her retinas and yet her hands feel fidgety on the wheel, fighting the urge to pull out her phone and see the real thing. She gets home after an insufferably long drive and pulls it out right away, undoing the zipper of her jeans and sitting down on the couch with a hand working the field between her legs, her eyes focused on the message until she bites her hand to stop her neighbours from hearing her cries.
Maybe sexting isn’t such a bad thing. She could really get used to this.
