#we were lucky that we got b99 back

[specialagentlokitty]

B99 x reader - useful gifts

Okay I don't know if you do Reader with ADHD but if yes could you do one where she is super lucky? Like she's at a store and a robber tries to rob the place but he gets attacked by the Reader's heavy duty bag (given to her by Rosa) while she's listening to music and then the Robber tries to get up, only to slip of a broken jar that the Reader accidentally knocked over and had been too busy listening to music. It's only when she stops listening that she sees everyone cheering for her and the shopper giving her a lifetime pass in his store. If it's not your thing it's cool! I love your writing very much! - Anon 💜

Shuffling on your feet, you lightly nodded your head back and forth to the beat of the song you were blasting through your headphones as you looked at the snacks on the shelf.

You were trying to decide what it was you wanted to snack on during work, but there was so many things to choose from.

Turning around, you walked over to the other side, completely unaware of anything that was going on around you.

Turning around again, you picked up something so you could look at it, making your way around the aisle, then realising that you were going the wrong way you spun on your heel.

Looking at the baked goods, you began to pick something up and you felt something hit your foot.

Frowning a little bit you looked at your foot to see a bit of glass by it.

Pulling your headphones down, you carefully stepped over it and looked around for someone to help when you saw everybody clapping and cheering.

“I uh… I broke something I think?”

“It doesn’t matter you saved us!” Someone cheered.

“Huh? Saved you?”

You looked down at the man trying to reach for his gun, and you stepped on his arm, shaking your head at him.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your badge.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“What the hell is your bag made out off?!” He yelled.

“Oh it’s a heavy duty bag.” You grinned a little.

Reaching into your other pocket, you pulled out your cuffs and you reached down, cuffing the man, making him sit on the floor as you began to cordon everyone off.

“Did anybody call emergency services?” You asked.

“Yes, we did.”

You nodded and began getting everything ready for your squad to turn up because you had told them you were there.

Going to check up on the witnesses, you made sure that nobody was hurt.

“Are you all alright?”

“Yes, yes thank you. All thanks to you.” A woman sighed.

They began thanking you again, cheering and clapping and you smiled at them.

“Do you come here often?” The owner asked you.

“Oh yeah, every day, got to keep the squad fell fed.” You laughed.

“Come everyday and whatever you want it’s free, you never have to pay for a single thing.” The man smiled.

“No! I couldn’t accept that, you need to make a living.”

He walked over, placing the card into your hands.

“Please it’s the least I can offer you after you saved us, accept it.”

You sighed a little, putting it into your pocket.

You didn’t want to argue with the owner, so you thanked him and went about your work again.

You never thought your heavy duty bag would come in handy, but now you’re glad that you take it everywhere with you.

You would have to remember to thank Rosa when you saw her

[thelesterhowells]

netflix cancelled one day at a time and the last time i was this fucking mad was when b99 got cancelled

[saiyan98]

Why I love Leo X Calypso

Hi everyone, I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I felt like I need to speak out my emotion or else I’m gonna have a panic attack worrying about this ship. You don’t need to force an argument or debate or anything like that. This is just a simple talk about why I love this ship so much and how I’m connected to it deeply. I’m not trying to force anyone on shipping them nor start a ship war. Just a simple talk, that’s all. Please don’t hate me. ;~;

Okay.

Every relationship has issues, it’s fact. But love is stronger, therefore the two can endure. For me, I love the ship the moment it was introduced. If I were to describe my reaction, I would say I was Charles from Brooklyn nine-nine.

(NINE NINE to you B99 fans)

I mean, Leo Valdez and calypso both been through a lot in their own ways, yet in similarity. Both got hurt, was lonely and felt like third-wheel to everybody. Leo though, he goes far and wide for his friends. What he did for Calypso in HoO, I mean C’mon! He LITERALLY died to save her. Sure it seems too quick to start a relationship (to be fair though, it’s a fictional story), but I mean, how far would you go to save a girl from an unbreakable curse? And calypso, poor girl been through enough already. Sure she’s a daughter of a titan and joined their side in the first war and almost destroy several relationships in the centuries; but, despite all that and her curse, with Leo, she was being herself, just herself. No curse to make her fall in love, no god to make her let him go, so she was stuck with him with no way out. Until, she got along with him. She saw more and more of Leo’s good side. And even though I haven’t read ToA yet (I will soon), she probably seen his worse. But if What Reyna said is true, Calypso will accepts him entirely.

Another reason I like this ship is that it reminds me of another one. Though it may not look like it to you (and that’s fine), it feels familiar to me.

Tony and Pepper in the MCU

(Btw, Tony, we miss you 3000)

I know, stretching a long one here. But hear me out. Tony and Leo are both… unique. They’re smart, cunning, and always finds a way out of their own mess (Most of the time). And both Pepper and Calypso are both dating these two and somehow keeping them in check (Sometimes).

Now, in Civil War, Tony and Pepper broke up (I was devastated) but then got married at Infinity War. Leo and Calypso are going through a rough patch. I mean, if Tony and Pepper can make it work, why can’t these two? I mean, Tony fought for a world for Pepper and the people to be safe, only to die to save the Universe. Leo died to save the world AND free Calypso. (I mean… it’d be cool to see Leo make his own Iron-man-like suit, there should be a fanfic on that) Both Leo and Tony died for a future, a future for their family. And even though Leo got lucky and came back, we can’t forget how much these two did for their world and family.

I have another reason, but it’s a more personal thing. I don’t think you guys wanna hear it though. Just some resemblance in my family and felt happy and peaceful with this ship. XD

Now, I’m not gonna lie, it’s not my #1 ship (Percabeth btw), but it’s definitely right behind it. Like, it’s neck-to-neck; both I love so much that I can’t pick which I love more.

But anyways, I’m not trying to force anyone’s opinion on anyone. You’re all free to love whatever you want. I guess I just wrote this to remind myself, and those that also ship Caleo, why we love this ship. I mean, not exactly; we all have different reasons and I understand that.

like, reblog, or share it to other fans if you wish. I’m just reassuring you fans out there, you’re not alone. And if you guys have any cute fanarts or fanfics with Caleo, please tell me where. I’ve been dying for more.

I’d make one myself, but I already committed to several fanfics already AND a Percy Jackson X Spider-Man Fanfic Trilogy with Estelle being the MC.

[adorethedistance]

Doomsayers - Owen Joyner x Artist!Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, existential dread, pretty mild content overall.

Words: 1110

Summary: Owen had to practically harass you to get you to relax on your mutual day off, but the quality time together takes an unexpected turn when you exhibit a small sense of self-doubt.

A/N: I’m sorry I’ve sort of disappeared but I’ll offer an explanation in the footnote. Other than that, requests are still being filled right now. Let this self-indulgent piece hold you over in the meantime. I wanted to get something out and due to how the process went with finishing this one, I think I’m slowly easing back into a writing spell after such a long period of writer’s block.

“Y/N!” Owen yells, dragging out my name despite being a mere ten feet away.

“Oweennnnn,” I whine back in an insincerely mocking tone. My almost too loving boyfriend is lying in the unmade sheets of my bed, groaning at me from a supine position. I’m switching in between sitting and standing as I work on a new painting for a client. It’s a magical realist take on an Italian cobblestone street view, and I’ve spent so much time on the painting this week that I’m way ahead of schedule. Owen knows this and is consequently moaning at me from his spot where he’s nestled on my bed.

A lazy Saturday is exactly what we both needed, but when I decided I had a little time the morning before he showed up, I’d gotten so invested in my workflow that I didn’t even break to answer the door. This isn’t the first time Owen’s had to let himself into my place with the key I gave him for our one-year anniversary. Essentially: when I have a warm drink in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, there’s no telling when I’ll break next.

“We’re supposed to be relaxing. Why are you working on our lazy Saturday?”

“I’m not working.” I brush a loose strand of hair out of my face, careful not to dab a glob of yellow oil paint across my cheek.

“You are painting a commission. It’s literally work, babe.”

“Hush. I’ve got a good workflow going.”

“If you don’t put that brush down in the next 10 seconds… I’ll… I’ll break up with you!”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” he sighs defeatedly. “But I will start crying.”

“Owen-” I stand up straight after being hunched over the canvas for so long.

“Please?” When I look at my boyfriend he’s giving me the most pitiful pout in the world and I can’t help but smile. His pout morphs into a full grin when I set my paintbrush into a plastic cup of water and oil solution.

“I hate you, you know that?”

“I love you!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Hush.”

I crawl up the length of my bed to join Owen who awaits my arrival with open arms. He’s resting on all my different pillows which are strewn about the bed via his nesting tendency. Once I’m laying down, Owen wraps both arms around my waist and rests his face on the nape of my neck. He presses a kiss to the bottom-most cervical vertebrae and inhales my scent delightedly.

“You enjoying yourself back there?”

“You smell good,” he mumbles shyly. Hugging his arms around me tighter, he traces soothing circles on my hip bone with his right index finger. His head comes to a static position as he’s finally comfortable, and slings his left leg over the side of my left thigh. I can’t help but laugh at the assumed position, and pull out my phone to entertain myself, knowing damn well that Owen will be asleep in a matter of minutes.

When I open instagram my face falters a little bit. The most recent post is from my coworker Kelly, and it’s a video of her 6 month old baby. In the video, her husband is holding the baby, making funny faces at her to get her to laugh. The sight is adorable and kind of saddening all at once. They seem like such a happy family and I’m sharply reminded by a thump in my chest of how Kelly got the promotion we were both up for last week. Her life seems magnificent, and mine feels like it hasn’t started yet. I know she’s three years older than me, but still. Three years isn’t that much. I still feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, or going to do.

“Owen?” I don’t trust my voice to lift over a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am now that you’re finally relaxing with me-”

“No,” I cut off his pointed comment with a breathy laugh, “I mean with life in general.” Owen’s finger stops tracing circles, and there’s no more movement of him making small adjustments. The only proof I have of him being alive is the faint tickle of his breath across the exposed skin of my neck.

“I mean, not everything is fantastic per se, but I’m content with the balance of good and bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I still get in my own head with auditions a bit, but I have acting and a new pad and you,” Owen emphasizes his statement by hugging onto my waist a bit tighter. “Why? What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I just get consumed by the thought that--yes, everyone wants to be happy--but it just doesn’t happen for some people. Everyone has dreams and goals and aspirations, but how many people can actually say that they have their dream career or dream life?” I let out an involuntary sigh from subconsciously holding my breath. “What if I’m not one of the people who gets to be happy?”

“Woah… where is this coming from?” Owen holds onto me tighter at the lack of a response. He presses a lingering kiss to my back and doesn’t move away until he feels my shoulders physically relax in his grasp.

“You deserve to be happy. And you will be even if you aren’t right now. Even if the bad outweighs the good right now, you have me. I’m here for you… I love you, Y/n.”

“I know. I love you.”

“Besides, aren’t you a little young to be having so much existential dread?”

“Oh, that is so rich coming from you.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Owen scoffs in defense of his honor.

“You are the biggest doomsayer I have ever met.”

“It could be worse. I could be this existential and look like you.” It’s my turn to play up defensive with an exaggerated gasp.

“You can cuddle with yourself then while I-”

“No! I’m sorry, please don’t leave!” His hold on my body grows impossibly tighter as he pulls me into his broad chest. I give in and stop struggling against him. Owen peppers the bare skin of my neck in staccato kisses to restore my tranquility. It’s not long until the two of us settle into a comfortable silence, simply desiring to be enveloped in one another’s presence. The syncopation of our breathing is the only sign of life in the room, and I’m consumed by a moment's clarity: as long as I have Owen, the good will always outweigh the bad.

***

A/n: Okay so for you nosy fuckers who care to read this: the reason I kinda disappeared... is so fuckin dumb. Idk how I got here but atm I’m #obsessed with Mat Barzal. Yeah. The hockey player. I don’t want to become a hockey blog tho so I figured I’d just go through this on my own and then resurface once I’m back on my JATP headassery. Slowly but surely, I can get through it. I go through periods of time where I exclusively read fics and then exclusively write fics. This has been a time of reading recently as I’ve purged the majority of Barzal content on here.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​ @celestialmolina​ @lilyjoyner​ 

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Old Friends

Chapter One

Russell Adler x GN!Bell Reader

A B99 inspired Black Ops Cold War AU that got a little out of hand, whoops

Anyway, enjoy.

Masterpost

96 Police Precinct, Fourth Floor

Thursday, April 15

9:10 am

No such thing as a lie-in when there’s a murder to be solved. Hence, why you’d been standing in the chill of a mid-April morning with the aftertaste of coffee lingering in the back of your mouth since five thirty am. The urgency not around a body being found, but because the place one had been, had been incinerated. A unit on the top floor of a low rent apartment block; the now contaminated scene of the most recent death in a string of strange murders that had splashed their way onto news headlines over the last few weeks.

All of that was somewhere in the reason why you weren’t in a pleasant mood when you arrived at your office in the 96th Precinct. The place was unusually quiet, most of your fellow officers still combing through the wrecked crime scene, apart from Amir and Mirjam, stuck in the briefing room, sifting through paperwork.

“How bad is it?” Amir asked over the wobbling stacks of paper as you approached.

You grimaced. “Whole crime scene’s gone. Thankfully, crime techs finished up yesterday, so at least we’ll have their reports.”

“Any suspects? Motives, anything?” Mirjam didn’t stop her work, only glancing up at you as she continued skimming through the pages.

“As if we’d be so lucky. No.” You shook your head. “Is the Captain in her office?”

Mirjam nodded. “She’s got someone in there- who was it?”

“Some captain. Looked all-” An exaggerated frown took over Amir’s face.

“Great. Cause this day isn’t shitty enough already. Thanks.”

“No worries!” Xe waved as you turned away, headed towards Captain Patel’s office, door closed, the blinds drawn. A quick glance over her assistant Alojzia’s desk, and the distinct absence of the smell of their tea, indicated that they weren’t in yet, prompting you to make a quick, sharp knock on the office’s door.

A moment passed until the door opened, revealing Captain Patel, her face relaxing slightly as she saw you were the one standing there.

“Come in, Sergeant.”

You nodded in thanks, closing the door behind you.

“I trust you remember Captain Hudson?” Captain Patel gestured for you to have a seat in the other chair in front of her desk.

“I do. Good to see you, sir.”

He looked up at you as you sat, greeting you only with, “Sergeant,” before looking back at Captain Patel as she continued talking.

She folded her hands on the desk, looking between the two of you. “Brass finally got their act together after this morning and approved for our precincts to work this as a joint case. Given your familiarity with the case here and that you used to work at the 67, I’ve approved you to go as the liaison officer. You’ll be posted there until this case is closed. The paperwork is all in here.” She pushed a file across the desk to you.

“Understood, Captain.”

“I’ve had copies of our files put on your desk to take with you. Captain Hudson’s team will fill you in with the other details. Dismissed.”

Hudson was the first up and out of the room, leaving you to follow behind, before Patel called you to stay for a moment.

“I know that you didn’t necessarily leave the 67 on the best of terms with everyone, but you’re the only officer I’ve got who can handle this case.” She started, before you stopped her.

“With respect, Ma’am, that was all a decade ago. I can handle it.”

She sighed, but waved you out of her office as you bid her farewell.

In the few minutes you’d been in the office, Alojzia had arrived, humming softly as they drank their tea, waving hi to you as you came out of the office, mouthing ‘who’s that?’ at Hudson’s, who was already waiting for you by the elevator.

You sighed, shrugging slightly. “My old captain. I’m on liaison, so I’ll be working elsewhere for the next couple weeks.”

Alojzia sighed. “Really? And we have quiz night next week too.”

“I’m sure I can still come to quiz night.”

“Good. I’m counting on you to win me those spa tickets.”

“Sure, Alojzia. See you later.”

They waved as you left their desk, stopping by your own, checking the contents of the box files- sure enough, copies of all the evidence you had compiled for the case. Unsure of how long you would be gone, you grabbed a few things from your desk- a couple sentimental trinkets, a pack of mints and a handful of spare pens. With these stuffed in your pockets, you balanced the box files in your arms and joined Hudson at the elevator.

He was like you remembered him- saying little through the elevator ride down, nodding acknowledgment of your thanks when he held the doors open for you, stopping next to his car.

“Give me those. I’ll take them back with me and get the rest of the team going through them.” He took the box files from you, fishing out one file in particular, flicking through it to point out an address as he handed it to you. “Mason is out at that crime scene at the moment. I’ll get him to hang around and walk you through it.”

“Okay. See you later, sir.”

Hudson nodded, piling the boxes in his passenger seat, silently getting into his car and driving out of the parking lot as you double checked the address in the file. You recognised it, it being the address of the posh pastry bakery that was across from the coffee shop you had frequented when you’d still worked at the 67. You took a moment after getting into your car to recall the route there, before starting the engine.

“Crime scene, here I come.”

—————————————————————————————————

Chapter Two

[sambergscott]

notes from the palm springs commentary !! 🏝

i know not everyone has access to hulu and i know i'd be gutted if i couldn’t watch it too so bc i'm lucky enough to have an american friend who let me use her hulu account i thought i'd share the commentary with you all on here <3 

- their first bit of commentary is “there’s a title” (cristin) and “there’s a goat” (andy)... 10/10 anaylsis thanks guys

- andy joked that they talked about waiting for an earthquake but decided they didn’t have the budget to wait that long (he said the glowing lights at the end were real tho 🙄)

- andy: “we’re gonna start off pretty racy” djfdjfkdjgh

- “for all those kids out there, the b99 fans, you probably don’t wanna watch this”.... but andy,, we absolutely Do

- andy was cristin’s least favourite person in the movie

- nyles spread eagle on the bed was in the script not an acting choice

- according to andy there were 700,000 bugs just hatched where they filmed the wedding scenes that they had to edit out in post (also it was suuuuuper cold and cristin was shivering)

- ANDY CALLED HIMSELF A BUTT UGLY WEIRDO. NO SIR. U ARE THE FURTHEST THING FROM THAT.

- the dance move when he clapped his hands over his head “lightly hurt his schlong”

- they had 20-30 options for orchid explosion by fournier, cristin pitched some too that she “does not remember!” (she said that very cute)

- they talk about how great june squibb is and how andy is impressed that she wasn’t complaining about the cold/shooting at 5am/the fact that they improved a lil bit.  “she doesn’t not give a what”

- during the make out scene on the rock cristin goes “ohhh ~spicy~”

- they also had to have a snake wrangler come out before they shot that scene and he was like “uhh i think it’s good?”

- andy was excited about having to get shot by an arrow when he was reading the script (it was also the moment they realised this movie was zanier than first thought)

- the cave was the same place they shot the old batman movies

- they started working on palm springs on november 9th 2016…. hence the wedding date

- cristin said they did about 30 takes (at least) of her opening her eyes/sitting up.. basically the entire first half of the first day shooting she spent doing the same thing

- “i just think you’re the coolest cristin, way to go man!” “you too andy!”

- the beer is fictional and has a meaning behind it.. the tortoise is to do with a myth about the universe or smth

- andy wants someone to make the beer fr

- “so here is cristin in the desert pretending to be hot” “he means physically” “TEMPERATURE HOT… i have no opinions on her appearance”

- they wanted to skip past the set-up-y parts to avoid it being too groundhog day and add diff dynamics and comedic elements that come from that

- according to andy, nyles has been in the loop an “insanely long time” (cristin and andy like that you don’t know the exact number of years bc however many years it’s been nothing has changed for nyles)

- cristin’s fondest memories were spending days in that dusty ass car together (i too would like to be that girl in his car)

- “i like your hat” “of course you do” was improved by andy and jk

- andy said jk is a “national treash”

- andy loved shooting the montage w jk (and he thinks that montage + the scene at the end is why jk signed up to do ps)

- “i went full butt” - andy samberg, 2021

- HE HAS A STUNT DOUBLE CALLED SETH WHO HAS A SIGNIFICANTLY BETTER BUTT THAN HIM (but andy’s butt was funnier so they went with his)

- the very last shot of the movie was nyles getting the handjob in the car

- max or other andy i can’t remember who talked for a while about how talented our andy is. can’t wait for that oscar nom!!!!!

- if andy were in a time loop he’d try to catch up on shows for a few years (and then try and leave)

- cristin is horrified that he’d choose to watch all of MASH to get him through a time loop

- cristin LOVED filming all the deaths

- andy said that their dance scene in the denim jacket replaces every iconic dance scene ever like fame/dirty dancing/etc etc and he’s right

- he dropped her in that scene bc his arms are “weak and floppy like a baby calf”

- the tattoo moment was the only fully improved scene

- they REALLY wanted it in the movie

- cristin insisted on the hook hand and eye patch and they obliged and she said she kept the hook hand and put it on her mantle and andy was like “prove it prove it prove it prove it prooooooove it”

- she did Indeed prove it

- orange in the movie significies intimacy and that whole montage is coloured orange to show them falling in love

- they loved shooting the tent scene

- the first night they filmed it there was a sandstorm and rain and they had to hide under a tarp and they came back the next night and they were able to get looser with it bc it was the last day of shooting and they’d basically done the whole thing the night before

- the dinosaurs bit was a “symbolic moment between the characters - they are 2 people who don’t believe they can be loved so they’re feeling something impossible and therefore they should see something impossible”

- the wake-ups were like an acting exercise in a way bc each wake up was diff emotionally based on where they were in the loop

- nyles finally cares about something (her) for the first time in maybe hundreds of years and he immediately gets slapped down :(((

- “suck my dick officer bitch” was cristin’s ad lib!!! (if anyone makes a montage of her life’s work she would like it to either begin or end w suck my dick officer bitch, andy said why not both)

- “for some reason i rolled up one of my sleeves [after nyles woke up after their fight] and then we couldn’t get out of it so that was a lesson! it was a terrible choice”

- andy loves the overhead pool shot

- everytime andy watches the confrontation at the wedding he feels terrible for tala, we love an empathetic king

- re: roy’s arc andy talks about how important it is to relish what you’ve got and it was v v v v sweet

- everyone laughed so hard in the arrow/garbage bin scene

- apparently tyler’s shirtlessness in the shower was distracting for people in early tests and they had to tone it back w colour correction 💀

- cristin was like “did that happen when i had to take my shirt off?” and andy was like “uh huh yeah”

- the goat was on set for a couple of days + apparently cristin would talk to it in between takes 🥺🥺🥺 can she get any cuter

- max talked about how they lucky they were to get andy and cristin and how the movie wouldn’t have worked without them, they were so on the same wavelength and there was an early meeting where nobody else could get a word in bc they were talking so much

- nobody was in it for the paycheck, “it was for the love, and dare i say it, for the art” <3

- they took 3-4 nights to shoot the entire wedding, andy can Not stress enough how much they were rushing

- they haven’t busted out any bloopers yet bc they used pretty much every frame they could/reused them in different places

- cristin doesn’t want to know if nana knows bc the mystery of it is what makes the movie so great!

- andy said there’s no definitive answer to a lot of stuff bc a lot of the people working on the movie had diff opinions

- the french song w the slo mo bit of sarah in the bar was cristin’s choice

- andy is v confused why people think spuds is nyles’ dad,, he’s just tricking him into getting a ride and andy’s sorry to everyone who thought it was real

- cristin liked that the payoff at the end felt like payoff while still staying true to who nyles and sarah are and not just super romantic bc “it’s a romcom!” [andy said throwing his arms in the air]

- cloudbursting was andy’s idea from the very first meeting about the movie but we been knew

- andy: “here’s the ending! nobody knows what it means!”

- the family at the end was the producer’s family, they drove a very long way to do that 2 second scene lol

- andy and cristin were swaying to when the morning comes at the end 🥺

- andy clapped and shouted “WELL PRODUCED” when his/tli’s credit came up hahaha

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 13

fandoms: bnha, bsd, b99, dc, hp, hq, mdzs

bnha

feelings can't catch katsuki, he runs too fast by jihnari

After that, it's a blur of metal and fire and pain—and the whispers of a long-dead boy chanting Help her, help her, help her and once, just once, just maybe, Help me. It's been 16 goddamn months and every time, every fucking time, it all comes back to a stupid thirteen year old kid Katsuki hadn't even been friends with. Why can't he just forget about it and move on?

Katsuki goes to Yuuei and accidentally makes friends via attempted assault and screaming in their faces. *jazz hands*

bnha x bsd

You long to end your life, so you never will die by pluton1um

(graphic depictions of violence)

For Aizawa, it seemed to be a normal day; after patrol, he was planning to go home and sleep for eighteen hours. That was until he saw the two bloodied teenagers sitting in an alleyway.

"What the hell."

(In which Dazai and Chuuya are sent into the world of heroes and villains. How will they hold in an environment where moral code is placed at such high esteem?)

(TLDR 2.0: Dazai and Chuuya become problem children who bring nothing but trouble and stolen alcohol into UA.)

dc

birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon

Tim Drake lives a perfectly good life. During the day, he's a freshman at Gotham Academy. At night, he surveils criminal activity and sends detailed analyses to Commissioner Gordon. If he's lucky, he might even get a photo of a Bat or two. He even writes increasingly popular LinkedIn articles about vigilantes and the criminal justice system under the pseudonym Jeffrey Anderson.

Gotham is the one that needs help, not Tim.

Bruce Wayne has a thing or two to say about that.

b99 x dc

I Am the Night by Chash

A new vigilante rises in New York City. The official position of the NYPD is that he's a criminal.

Jake Peralta thinks he needs a sweater.

hp

Earning His Notice by Lomonaaeren

Harry has almost accepted that he won’t be going back to his own time, and he’s working in a small apothecary in Diagon Alley to make ends meet. Then someone tries to blow up his employer’s shop, and that brings him face-to-face with Tom Riddle, who he successfully avoided during his time at Hogwarts.

hq

now it seems as though we speak a completely different language (but you'll always be as beautiful as the moment that we met) by jublis

It’s hard to find something that belongs only to yourself when you’re a kid. You scrape all your edges to fit into something else’s corners, and then turns out it wasn’t even what you were looking for in the first place. Being a person is such hard, hard work. No one knows that better than children who are too much. (When a boy is left alone for too long, he hungers. That’s Shouyou’s first answer.)

Or, Hinata Shouyou learns how to stand on his own two legs. Featuring one too many complicated emotions, Kageyama Tobio, and hunger.

Savior by dgalerab

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con)

Bokuto Koutarou isn’t scared of mutants, which is why he might be the first person who has ever shown Akaashi Keiji some sympathy.

(Or: it was only so long before I got into an X-men AU because I've been in X-men hell since I was 5.)

mdzs

a fever, a promise, an unopened door by pale_and_tragic

Someone is calling him, someone is running, even though there is no running in the Cloud Recesses. Someone’s kneeling in front of him, touching his shoulders, pulling his frozen fingers away from his face. “Wangji, what’s happened? What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the—”

“You’re alive,” Lan Wangji says. “Are you?”

Lan Xichen stares at him.

(Or, a feverish LWJ finds himself kneeling outside another closed door.)

Part 2 of these waking dreams

your words upon my lips by uchiuchi

A silence blankets the air around them. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and recaps the last couple of minutes: him asking (a little crudely) what happened, the juniors looking like Lan Wangji had just announced his deep hatred for rabbits, Lan Wangji himself looking like he’d just announced his deep hatred for rabbits, both of them asking the same question, and—

Realization seeps into Wei Wuxian's bones.

He looks up at Lan Wangji, and Lan Wangji is staring right back at him, and Wei Wuxian’s lips are still tingling, and Lan Wangji is still poking at his own.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lan Wangji groans.

At the same time, Wei Wuxian murmurs, “Ah.”

(In which Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji investigate a curse and get cursed instead. Everything they try to say comes out of the other person's mouth. It can only go downhill from there.)

the map of days by��everythingispoetry

(mature)

Surviving the thirty-three lashes is a miracle. Living after the thirty-three lashes is a curse.

[gaylittleinnkeepers]

julerose & chlolix in b99/police au

first b99/police au here

let’s do this

- starting with julerose, soft babies

- juleka is very badass™️ but literally,,,she’s so precious with rose,,,

- their desks face each other, like jake and amy’s, and their little plaque things that say their name both have matching stickers and things bc of rose

- juleka and rose can both sing really well, not many know about juleka but everyone knows rose sings awesome

- sometimes, while everyone is working in the precinct, the two duet on a lot of songs (their favourites are ‘lucky’ by jason mraz and ‘cover me in sunshine’ by p!nk) everyone secretly loves listening to them

- rose always doodles on juleka’s paperwork, so much that sabrina just leaves it and doesn’t acknowledge it at all

- juleka’s been in the precinct a while longer than rose, but when rose came over she just went :O cute girl???

- but they both have been best friends and had mutual feelings for each other literally ever since they’ve met

- yh and they’ve only been completely dating for three years, before that it was sort of ‘dancing around each other like a failed mating dance’

- they always go out on undercover missions because they’re so awesome at it

- ,,,juleka and rose always wear matching dresses and skirts and stuff like that when they’re undercover, everyone always thinks they’re so cute

- they do ‘things’ in the basement. nobody has ever caught them, nobody has ever managed to find proof of it happening

- well except for that one time nino found juleka handcuffed to one of the filing cabinets

- (he swore to secrecy after she glared at him)

- julerose are the main advice givers of the precinct tho, like anytime anyone needs help with anything (mostly love advice), they’ll go to the girls

- juleka usually says ‘bone’ while rose tells them something,,,not as bad

- one time, at christmas, rose hid herself in a big box and mailed herself to the precinct with juleka’s name on the box

- (she was…surprised, but not unappreciative)

- and once they got so fucking drunk at the pub that they start making out on the counter and it gets so heated that luka literally has to carry both of them into one of the bedrooms,,,juleka showed up with a few bruises on her neck after that

- rose ships chlolix with all her being (which is not much being, but eh)

- alix has been trying to seduce chloé for…like…years

- alix and juleka have been best friends since they started training, so naturally juleka picks up on it first

- and since she’s in love with- best friends with rose, the little pink girl knows too and has been trying so hard to get them together

- rose: oh! chloé! alix needs some help wi-

chloé: tell max to help her

- alix has done nearly everything- singing (she can’t sing), getting someone else to sing for her (juleka refused despite having the voice of an angel and rose wanted alix to do it herself), being super nice to chloe, serenading her with music, endless flirting- but chloé won’t fucking respond to her

- she’s just sticking with endless flirting and dirty teasing

- alix: would you ;)) like to accompany ;) me ;))) home? ;))

chloé: no go by yourself

- she’s mostly given up at this point but still has a shred of hope because of rose’s little “you can do it! love never gives up!”

- chloé, however, does actually have a massive fucking crush on alix

- everyone is convinced they’re dating-but-not, sort of like julerose for the first few years of their friendship

- chloé is very happy with tormenting poor alix by pretending to be completely oblivious and uninterested

- except there was one time where chloe yelled “I LOVE YOU ALIX” and alix yelled “I LOVE YOU TOO CHLOÉ” back when they were shitfaced drunk one time (same day as the julerose hooking up thing) and nobody will ever let either of them live it down

- juleka and alix actually agreed to be each others’ wingwomen when they were younger, in case either of them ever found people they liked

- so alix had a hand in julerose actually getting together

- in return, juleka bribed max into hacking chloé’s phone to get her number and send it to alix

- chloé woke up to find a text message reading “i wish you were jesus and i was the cross so we could me nailed together forever ;))”

- she didn’t block alix fortunately

SEND ME SOME OTHER STUFF IN MY INBOX PLS?

[sakura-haruka]

Mike aka captainpoe is talking shit about me so let me get things straight.

He’s gonna do screenshots of what will makes him look like the victim, like he always does so you will have to believe me on my words (since I coun’t found our conversations by pm) but most people who know me or I've been following me for a long time know that I usually stay out of the drama. Big thanks to my friends for telling me what he was doing behind my back like the adult he is.

3 years ago Mike started following me, I was back then a small blog and I thought “wow a big blog is following me!”

He started to talk me and really fast told me to send him my edits by messages and I did! he also reblogged me on his mcu blog (and his sw blog too... I think).

I was really stressed with a big exam around July and I became obsess with EVERYTHING, I was a true pain in the ass to everyone. I’m not gonna lie. So yeah I also became obsess with my Tumblr notes, I did gifs to relax but it was not working very well back then. my behavior was childish and I apologized to him after! 

(He accused me of wanting to be reblogged on his sideblogs, it’s true, but it’s natural to me to reblog everything that people send me or tag me in on my sideblogs, I sincerely don’t understand people problem with reblogging on sideblogs things ).

When he got harassed on here, more like called out (it was actually around the same time I was a dick)  he asked me to take his defense and to reblog a post he made, he was basically whining about how he was the victim and never harassed anyone, he sent me messaged telling me that he was a married man in florida and never did anything against the once upon a time fandom, wasn’t homophobic and meh meh meh... Back then I believed him because he was the nice guy who was helping me getting notes in the MCU fandom. He used me, after talking to other members I realized that I wasn’t alone. 

I WANT TO APOLOGIES TO THE POEPLE I DIDN’T BELIEVED BACK THEN. I KNOW WHO HE IS NOW. 

He started being aggressive but nothing worriedly when TLJ came around, it was a real little thing but I wasn't shipping Rey x poe and I felt like it was problem for him that I wasn’t shipping them. I didn't thought too much about it but still, it left a bad taste in my mouth, I wasn’t talking a lot to him after that.

When I had problems and got hate on my blog he didn't do shit to help me. 

I was still sending me my edits because... Notes. I can’t lie about that, like every  creators here I want my edits to get notes. 

I think we haven’t talked for a verrrry long time, I was sending my edits that’s it. 

Last year he asked me to join my GOT blog, after all the reblog he did for me I thought It would be really bitchy to me to not add him as a member. But I also noted that it was funny how he joined both the B99 and the GOT fandom once he realized that it was very popular. 

He did edits on the blog so no problem at all, until s8 ended. I’m like everybody, I hated that season but when someone join my sideblogs, especially my got one, I am very clear about the no hate rule (I had problems with that on this blog before). But he thought that since he was popular he could do what he wanted, I deleted the two first he reblogged, one of them was calling people to harass D&D and I hate what they did but as someone who has been victim of bullying at school and still suffer from that I was disgusted by what he posted but I haven’t told him anything since he’s really popular and I didn’t want to create any drama... I have a life so I  finally forgot about it. 

My laptop broke and gosh, I really understood who he was at that moment! I sent a messages to all the members of my sideblogs asking them to keep the blogs active while I can’t, normal stuff for an admin. I had my tablet with no photoshop... spidey got “fired” and like a lot of other people I thought about that scene in iw where Tony told him “you’re an avenger now”, lucky me I have already made that gifset before so I took my tablet and just reposted my own gifset, it took me so long because I had to convert it back to gif format because of Tumblr... Anyway, later he sent me a message accusing me of having copied him and I haven’t seen his gifset so told him exactly that. He then accused me of doing that ALL THE TIME with endgame and I told him “listen bro we’re both using the same 30 seconds YouTube clips that marvel gave us”, like 20 other people (they were not a lot of people because that channel was weirdly unknown), it’s true that I was doing them after him but it’s just because I have a life and cannot always do gif, I make them when I have time. He also basically told me that I must be rich for having replaced my laptop that fast, I haven’t, I was using my tablet but even if I did replace my laptop, mêle toi de ton cul ( I have no English expression coming to me ).

I really understood who he was then. 

He totally stopped making edits for my got blog, because it stopped trending so it wasn’t interesting him anymore. 

a few months past and I think the only thing he told me is that he was scared of clowns... Literally. 

And then the BIG ONE, I know he was a douche but omg. Mike asked me to reblog ALL his posts on a sideblog I'm only a member of. He told me that the admin have blocked him because she was shipping reylo and well reylos hate him because he’s posting shit on them , they were a huge misunderstanding then (because i’m French and I may not have explained myself right) , I told him that I wouldn’t reblog him if the admin didn’t want to see his posts on the blog, he was blocked! and I was, at the same time, talking to another member of this blog who is a close friend of the admin and she agreed with me. he was very insisting and I told him that the admin was checking what we add to the queue and would certainly delete his posts, it was the big misunderstanding that could have hurt the admin of the blog, I just meant I know she checks what’s happening because she told me when I don’t tag a post with the right tags, it’s just what a good admin (unlike myself) does. I also told him that it was a new blog with “only” 14k followers, he must have something like 50K followers sooooo, and that his edits were getting 100K notes, more than anybody here. He became... I have no words to describe that. He told me that it was a dictatorship if I couldn’t reblog what I wanted, and that I should leave the blog, I stopped answering pretty fast after that. 

 In our last conversation I was vulgar. (it’s in the post he sent to my friends), he really need to get over it, I’m French and from Normandie : I am vulgar! wtf. It’s also the last thing he ever posted on my game of thrones blog. It was a Sunday either two days after after the last star wars movie came out or ten days ( I don’t remember if he waited a week or not) but he reblogged a text post from his blog sending hate toward the writers of both got and sw and spoiled the entire Star Wars movie on my game of thrones blog, which was “the drop of water that caused the vase to bleed” like annoy me all you want but when people goes on my got blog they don’t want to be spoiled, it was so rude and mean and that post had nothing to do there and it was at least the third time so I told him to “fucking stop” and since mr thinks he is the king he went all “you can’t talk to me like that” “I'm an adult” meh meh meh. I told him to never go in France ‘cause he wouldn't like us. And it was the last time we spoke.  Nothing to do directly with me but I would never do what he does to get notes, that man he’s ready to use any big events such as pride or women’s day to get notes. I do make edits for those events too but I'm actually a bisexual woman and not an heterosexual man and I really don’t think he’s doing those edits to show his support to those movements but just to get notes, this year he did the same thing with blm movement I thought it was disrespectful at best, he even made the famous “I we burn you burn with us” gifset  from the movie and no, just stop dude.  Making that gifset of Naya before she was even found was awful, a lot of people are doing gifs to feel better about things but I don’t think it would have came to anybody else mind to have it ready in their draft. It actually make me think of myself because after they died I made a gifset of Carrie Fisher and Stan Lee  and in my head  it was a tribute but now that I think back about it I wouldn’t make gifset when people dies anymore, I said it once again but in my head it was a tribute to those wonderful people life and work.  I did to feel people and myself a little better in those situations but it didn’t makes me feel better. I thought about it even more, especially for Carrie, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Billie and losing my mom is the worst thing that could happen to me. You can say that, at the end, Mike makes me realize something. 

He has been calling out for his behavior but instead of facing it like an adult he just want to take people down instead of him, I'm one of them and I certainly won’t be the only one.  it’s someone who doesn’t know how to face the consequences of his behavior and still think he’s untouchable, me and one of my friend said that he thought he was the king of Tumblr and I sincerely think that in his head he is. 

Sorry for the grammar I'm French and it’s almost 4 am so I'm gonna check the grammar tomorrow. 

[397bartonstreet]

Is it Weird I Kind of Want to Kiss You?

This is my submission for the b99 summer fic exchange 2020! This fic is for @letsperaltiago, I really hope you enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing it! Also thank you @theysayweareasleep for helping me out with this i couldnt have done it without you. And thank you to @b99fandomevents for holding this exchange, I was happy to be apart of it.

read on ao3

The whole squad had officially retired about an hour earlier. It was a relief to be able to let loose after a hard day of many failures from a case. The mugginess of the bar, under the dim lights, the shouts from the tables behind them, felt like the perfect way to unwind. Leaving Amy with Jake to clink together one more glass of whiskey before turning in for the night. At this point, the alcohol and infectious energy of the place have relaxed their tense shoulders and they can now just enjoy each other’s company. Even if it’s only just the two of them. 

Amy clutches her stomach as the last remnants of her laughing fit fade away. Releasing her unconscious hold of Jake’s wrist so he can wipe the tear leaking from his eye, and he comes back to earth with a few chuckles.

“Okay, no, but really, some people can just be the dumbest people in the entire world,” Amy says through catching her breath. She pulls the rest of her hair down as it’s already coming undone, but doesn’t bother fixing her skewed blazer.

“Hey, let’s be honest, maybe they’re not as dumb as their moments. Like I’m pretty damn sure you and I have had many a moments dumb in past,” Jake stumbles to say and Amy has to resist patting down the curls that have stood to one side. 

“God, don’t remind me, and it’s always you,” Amy points accusingly. Jake gasps and slaps her hand away. 

“Noooo,” Jake petulantly says before chugging the last of his drink. She can barely remember what number drink that is, since she’s had the same amount he has. She quickly places her finger back in his face.

“It’s always you who makes me do the dumbest crap in the whole world!”

“Don’t even lie,” he bangs his fist on the table and doesn’t resist the giddy, drunken laugh that comes out of him. And it’s so infectious, his energy and the way his smile makes his eyes all squinty.

“I am not lying! You always make me look like an idiot!” 

“You do that yourself,” he playfully scoffs.

“Right, do you remember the date,” Amy says, punching him on the shoulder. Jake pauses, mouth agape and eyes squinted. The cogs are definitely turning in there, like it does about once a day before it shuts down and let’s his body take over. 

“To be fair, that technically was your fault, if you had just tried being actually a good detective-

“Ohhh, don’t-,” Amy throws her head back.

“Then maybe you would actually have won,” he teases.

“Don’t even start, we were at the same place you got lucky,” her volume rising to overshadow his.

“I did get lucky, I got a date with Lamey Santiagoooo.” He tries to take another sip from his glass and frowns when it turns up empty.

“And it was the fucking best day of your life.” Jake gasps and looks around, lips pursed in suppressed laughter.

“Oh my god, Amy Santiago is cursing. She’s cursing!” He yells out to the rest of the bar. Amy notices the bartender throwing them a warning glance. She places her hands on his arm and shakes him a little.

“Shut up,” she grits through her teeth, but she really can’t even pretend to be serious right now, with the alcohol still coursing, and even feels like it might be a tad worse. “You’re an actual child.”

“Childsayswhat?” She rolls her eyes. That wasn’t even funny back when she was twelve years old.

“I’m not falling for that.”

“Ha, that’s because you’re a nerd.”

“Well, you’re a loser.”

“Actually, you’re the loser, I won the bet,” he grins and Amy groans up at the ceiling. She tips into her mouth the last of her drink and lets it puff out her cheeks. Behind her, a group yells among themselves and she realizes just how alone her and Jake are. It’s not the first time they’ve gotten drinks together, or have been left alone after the squad leaves them for the night.

But ever since everything that’s happened. Teddy. Sofia. Dumb feelings and stupid declarations. Things feel different, something feels inevitable. Like at any moment, something unknown and unsaid can ruin the set rhythm between them. 

But no, she shouldn’t let that ruin things right now. Things are good, they’re great, they’re-

“Do you want to know that this means Amy?” Jake asks, catching himself from swaying just a little.

“Hm,” she asks.

“This means,” he stops to let the pause linger. “that you and I are at the start of an awful relationship.” 

“Oh really,” she says. He’s joking, and they’re drunk. She certainly feels drunk, which is probably why she’s letting herself remember the unspoken issues between them. It’s definitely why she’s letting herself remember the unspoken issues between them. It’s just a joke. And it’s not an uncommon occurrence to have people in your life you wouldn’t mind kissing. Or touching. Or other things.

“Yup, we’re at the start of a lifelong terrible relationship that of loservilleness.”

“Ha! So you admit you’re a loser.”

“Amy Santiago, when you take a step back to rediscover the world, you will realize that we all, as one people, are losers.”

“You’re lucky that mostly made sense.” 

“Heck yeah it did. Anyway, back to what I was saying, you and I are about to live a terrible life together. We’re going to framed for a heinous crime we did not commit-”

“Why.”

“Because.”

“Alright,” she says with a shake of her head at his antics. 

It’s a joke, it’s just a joke.

“We’re going to marry at the Chapel near the rat infested Walmart.”

“Okay,” she nods with mock seriousness.

“After we wed, we run away as outlaws to Montana, change our names to Bucky and Birdie-”

“I call Birdie!”

“And we have a son named McClane.” Amy looks at him with an exasperated look, and he can barely contain the mischievous look spreading on his face. 

“Jake, that's a terrible name.” 

“You’re a terrible name!” She wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did try to name their child McClane, he… really loves that movie. But, it’s endearing really, that there’s something he connects to and loves. She likes the way he unapologetically loves.

She taps her chin since he’s staring at her intently for a response. 

“McClane…,” she mumbles to herself. “ooh, you know what? McClane might not be an awful name. If you really think about it, it can also sound like a name for a librarian.” She knows she’s hit a button. He cackles and drops his head into his hands. He turns and glances at her with annoyance, he almost looks impressed.

“Why do you always ruin things that are fun,” he says, tapping her shin lightly with his f. She’s definitely drunk, because even that felt charged. Felt intentional. But she’s just drunk.

“Do you want our son to be named McClane or not?” She says, tapping his shin back. It’s fine if she does, they’re friends. 

“Fine, but I’ll find something to ruin for you.”

“I’m solid as a rock honey, you can’t move me.” Jake raises an eyebrow and smirks. He doesn’t break eye contact when he holds out two fingers and gives her shoulder a firm shove. A stupid squeal escapes her throat as she stumbles off the stool she’s sitting on and lands on her ass.

“Ok, I think that means it's time to go.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees. She holds out her hand for him to help her up. “Walk me?”

Amy’s relieved that she can still mostly walk in a straight line. It isn’t until Jake bumps into her that they start to stumble a little. 

New York is not as busy tonight as it usually is, and she likes the clear path they get to walk in without many obstacles. They gag and skitter around the giant dead rat on the ground, and they have to cover their nose when the worst smell NY has ever produced punches them in the face. Other than that, they’re not bothered and she’s grateful for the cold night air after hours in the hot bar. 

And they haven’t stopped talking since leaving the bar. About the episode of West Wing last night, the bruise Jake got from tripping over Charles’ box of jars of something, Amy’s annoying brother David and the picture of his new car he’d sent to the sibling group chat. 

She thinks Jake is the only person she gets like this with; loud, talkative, and rowdy. It’s the best, and she loves these moments with her best friend. 

“You’re not even ready, Bucky would romance the hell out of you,” he says, poking her lightly in the side.

“Really? Coming from the world’s cheapest date?”

“I’ve gotten no complaints.”

“You’ve gotten many complaints!”

“Not from Birdie.”

“Fair,” she says. 

“I would drive you absolutely insane with my respect for your boundaries. Make you miserable by unconditionally supporting your ambitions,” he says and Amy wrinkles her nose.

“Sounds horrendous.”

“Yup. You’d make me sleep on the couch with how much I get along with your family.”

“Disgusting,” she says. To be fair, she probably would send him to the couch if she caught him having a nice conversation with David. No way will she let David make her husband think he was better than her. In high school, one of her boyfriends left her to pursue her amazing brother. She’s never letting that happen again.

“David?” he asks. 

“David,” she assents. But she’s already ranted about him once today and she doesn’t want to break the Only One Rant About David a Day rule she’s set for herself. “I would pay attention to your interests and actively listen when you speak.”

“That’s just low,” his voice is guttural when he says that and she curses her attraction to deep voices. She clears her throat.

“Buy you intimate gifts from the heart and remind you of my appreciation of your existence every single day,” she says. His hand swaying beside hers lightly brushes against hers, and he continues the conversation like it didn’t happen. He probably didn’t care, maybe he really doesn’t care anymore. 

“Did Teddy do that?” he asks.

“Never missed a day,” she says. 

“Gross, how did you manage,” he barely gets the word out before his foot catches on the edge of a fire hydrant. He releases an ‘oof’ and grabs onto her hand to catch his balance. She’s way too inebriated to catch him, she goes tumbling along with him. She just barely manages to settle herself whereas he goes flat on the floor. 

“Woah, are you okay,” she says, the laugh she makes is almost a cackle. When he looks up at her, his face is red and he can barely breathe with the force of the laughter that shakes his shoulders. She tries to pull him up, grabbing him by the arm and making a feeble attempt to carry him back up. It just barely works, with more fumbling and swaying involved.

“Just like this, I’d support you in all aspects of life,” she teases, helping to steady him on his feet.

“Even if, in our hanky town in Montana-

“Hanky?”

“I get arrested for assault when someone tries to take the last jar of mayo?”

“Especially then,” she says. It suddenly hits her that her hands are still on his arms, she still has him less than a foot away. He’s so close, way closer than she expected him to be. Despite many years of them working together, on all those stakeouts and nights slaving over case files and evidence, she’s never had him this close. His crooked smile is still there, still goofy and sweet, but it’s changed from what it was a second ago. It’s shy, almost hesitant, surveying something on her face and she wants so badly to know what it means. 

“This doesn’t sound like the worst relationship ever you know,” Jake says and she almost startles when she feels more than sees a hand reaching up to her face, lightly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. So slight and imperceptible that he might have just been taking something out of her hair. But that’s not the thing that strikes her the most. It’s the look on his face. She’s seen it before, from Teddy, her college boyfriend, the hotdog vendor at the stand near Shake Shack. But never Jake. 

This look seeps low into her stomach and expands into her chest. There’s an overwhelming pang that she wants to chase for miles, just to see where it takes her. She says, “Maybe not.”

It comes out softer than she means it to. It makes what should have been a joke… something else. That inevitable thing. 

Even this stupid life together that they just made up right now, she’s never been able to joke like that with anyone else, never been able to imagine that with them. But with him, maybe it’s just the alcohol she’s probably had too much of, it’s not so ridiculous.

“Is it weird I kind of want to kiss you right now?” he says softly. She’s officially lost. Lost on him and in this moment. It’s so inevitable, it’s so close.

“Is it weird I kind of want you to?” 

Her hands tighten on him, and there’s a moment of bated breath. She almost hates the giddiness she feels bubbling up within. It’s like gravity to just lean forward… and embrace their inevitable.

They’re shaken when a loud horn of a truck breaks the silence as it drives past them. It’s like they’re yanked apart by their surprise and Amy puts a hand on her chest to settle her beating heart. She looks over at Jake. His eyes are wide and no longer glittering the way they were a second ago. The moment is gone. 

“Dammit New York,” Jake says, avoiding her eyes by looking in the direction the truck had left. When he looks back, his eyes are still kind of glazed over from their drinks. She’s sure hers are the same. Their drinks have led to silly jokes and wild fantasies. To whatever the hell that was. 

To Jake’s next brilliant observation. 

“Holy shit, is that a Baskin Robbins?”

“Oooooh,” she says with a gasp. He grabs her arm and they run in the direction of the shop.

[sitcomified]

we can’t make any promises now, can we, babe?

summary: impromptu peraltiago wedding one-shot set in the b99 season three finale  word count: 5.4k rating: general

read below or on AO3

A buzz of chatter spills across the bar. Jake, Amy, and Charles are reunited at last, sharing stories the past few weeks over cheap drinks on a sticky wooden countertop. Amy finally tells Jake she loves him so much and he reciprocates without second thought. Charles offers a knowing glance to Amy, but Jake’s phone buzzes before he can follow up.

“Ooh, I'm gonna get this.” Jake excuses himself from the conversation and answers the call from an unknown number on his phone.

“Jake Peralta? This is Jimmy Figgis.” He feels like his throat has been shoved down his stomach. Cases were never truly solved, and usually the perps harbored resentment, but he had never been singled out like this, on his personal phone number. His first instinct is to try to locate Figgis, but even if he wanted to track the call he couldn’t. The voice on the other end has been altered by a robotic filter, and the background noise is indiscernible. 

He hesitates for a moment before responding, “oh, uh, hey, dog.”

“You and Ray Holt took down my operation. Now I'm gonna kill you both.” Jake squints across the room in search of anyone remotely suspicious. Unfortunately, he could read too much into anyone when given the chance. He doesn’t recognize the new bartender, and he’s been less chatty than the others. There’s a lady squeezing her purse against her chest as she looks in his direction. His anxieties boil over in his throat as he tries to stammer out a response, but Figgis ends the conversation before he has time to interject: “later, dog.”

Jake’s hand is still shaking as he lowers his phone. His eyes dart around the room. “Uh, Captain Holt?”

“Peralta,” Holt says from across the bar, approaching the counter after politely excusing himself from an odious conversation with Hitchcock and Scully. His arrival catches the attention of Amy and Charles, who drop their conversation about where to find the best sundaes.

Jake scans the room once more before speaking in a low voice. “I just got a call. From Figgis. He knows that you and I busted his operation and he’s coming for us.” He sighs and his shoulders fall down with defeat.  Amy instinctively reaches for Jake’s hand. 

“Oh dear,” Holt replies. Even his ever-emotionless expression is disturbed by the news, with raised eyebrows and a slight frown. “Well that is certainly unfortunate.”

“What does this mean?” Amy asks, her voice trembling. Jake squeezes her hand, in a futile attempt to calm the storm of worst-case scenarios she’s piecing together. 

“We’re screwed,” Charles says, “don’t worry Jake, I’ll make sure to tell your story.” 

“We are not ‘screwed’,” Holt replies, “however, we should discuss proper procedure in a more private place.” He gestures to the couple making out at the table to their left. The group nods in agreement. “Go ahead to the precinct, I will meet you there.” He exits the conversation just as swiftly as he arrived, sparing no second in rallying his—albeit somewhat tipsy—squad.

The walk to the precinct is uncharacteristically somber. Charles doesn’t even comment on the fact that Jake draped his jacket on Amy’s shoulders the second they left the bar. The omnipresent breeze of arguments between neighbors, loud music, and traffic goes still and the only noises they can hear are their own footsteps, and the occasional sigh. 

The precinct is at least familiar, but laced with uncertainty as night shift officers occupy the bullpen. The trio make their way to the empty briefing room, which is fortunately unlocked. Amy takes a seat in the back, and Jake hops on the table next to her. Charles heads for the bathroom to face the consequences of the “Authentic Asian-Mexican Fusion” cocktail he tried earlier.

“It’ll be okay,” Amy says, gently stroking Jake’s palm. His blank gaze is fixed at the wall in front of him for minutes that seem like hours, and he still hasn’t said a word. Usually when he was worried, she couldn’t get him to shut up. Seeing him silenced sent an eerie chill across her. “At least for now, Figgis and his guys are way too smart to infiltrate an active precinct.”

He finally replies, “So you want me to live the rest of my life here?” He lets out a meek chuckle. “I think that would be worse than getting shot.”

“Oh, come on, it wouldn’t be that bad. I’d see you every day, you already eat most of your meals out of a vending machine, and the bathrooms are nicer than your apartment.” Amy jokes. 

“Hey, one day that will be our apartment, watch your mouth.” He cracks a smile. For just a moment he allows himself to forget about the immediate danger surrounding him and indulges in the idea of a daily life with Amy. They would order takeout and sit on the couch watching an action movie, and she would be curled up with her embroidery and he could smell her eucalyptus shampoo. Or maybe he'd learn to cook, and she'd put on another nature documentary, and he'd get to listen to her laugh at the stupid voices he did for the animals. He runs his fingers absentmindedly through her ponytail. That’s a life he would buy a million mattresses and toss his grey towel thousands of times over for. 

His fantasy is, however tragically, cut short by the Captain’s arrival. “Peralta, a word, in my office please.” Jake nods and follows him through the bullpen, without even bothering to greet any of the officers. It's as if he was watching himself enter the room, rather than actually experiencing it.

“Take a seat,” Holt gestures to the chair across from where Jake was standing awkwardly across the desk, and he hadn’t thought about sitting down. To be completely honest, he wasn’t entirely aware of the fact that he had a body. “I have contacted the U.S. Marshall’s office to make arrangements to send the two of us into Witness Protection. I know that this comes as a disappointment, but I believe that this level of security is necessary to avoid the threat.” 

The news hits Jake like a punch to the gut. It’s a new type of dread, one that’s crushing him in instead of pulling him apart. He had worked on high stakes cases before, but this was a new level of imminent danger. He’d always been able to talk his way out of any threat; the squad was always there to help him. Even without them, he could fend for himself. Hell, he survived six months undercover in the frickin mob. Jake clenches his fingers against the captain’s desk. “Captain, with all due respect, is that really necessary–”

“–I understand your hesitancy, but it is absolutely critical that we take the utmost caution, but this is non-negotiable. Our Marshall will be here in two hours. Sergeant Jeffords is on his way to brief the squad on necessary protocols right now.” 

“How long will we need to stay in WITSEC for?” Jake tried to reason with himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. It could be a couple weeks, a month tops. It would hurt like hell, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle. If it was somewhere cool, then he could also get a killer story out of it.

“Indefinitely,” Holt responds, as if it was obvious and insignificant as the color of the sky. His answer severs the last thread holding Jake’s sanity together. He bangs his fists on the table.

“What the hell? You just assumed I would be okay with all this?” he shouts, “I can handle myself. I don't need to be babysat. I've been a detective for ten years!”

“Precisely, that's why I assumed you would react like an adult, and not like a petulant child.” Holt retorts. His dismissive delivery only fuels Jake’s anger.

“What did you expect me to do? I just got to see Amy for the first time in weeks and now my life is at risk because of some stupid case?” He pauses for a moment, recalling the ridiculous conversation from the briefing room moments ago. “Let me stay here, I’ll take down Figgis. I’ll even live in the precinct.”

Holt manages to convey a magnificent lack of amusement. “I don’t have time to deal with your immaturity right now. There are several arrangements I need to attend to, for your safety, If I may add.”

Jake’s heart is still pounding as he storms out of the captain's office. A pair of officers look up at him with concern before returning to their paperwork. He walks directly to the evidence lock up. As much as he wanted to squeeze out every last moment he could with Amy, he couldn't risk ruining it with some impulsive hot-headed remark.

He paces around the room before eventually landing on a box to rifle through. If he couldn’t address his feelings, he could certainly distract himself from them. It’s an old case—from before Holt became Captain. From what he could remember, the perp was busted for poisoning victims she catfished, and stealing their identities. When he opens the box, a puff of dust fills the air, hitting him with the heavy reality of just how much time had passed. He occupies himself by sifting through the contents of the box: the bracelet she used to store arsenic, the harddrives containing compromised information, and the perfectly crafted report that Amy had spent their whole lunch break editing. He really didn’t know how lucky he was then. He spent every day with the most wonderful woman alive and wasted it by teasing her.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps. He would recognize Amy’s awkward clunking in her “going-out heels” anywhere. Even if he was deep undercover all the way across the country. “I knew I’d find you in here,” she greets him, standing in the door frame with a bunched up tissue in hand.

“It’s like you’re a detective or something,” Jake says. He aims for the light flirtatious tone that the two have grown so accustomed to, but it comes out too aggressive for either of their comfort. 

Amy hesitates before clearing her throat and approaching him. She closes the lid and returns the box of evidence to the shelf, and reaches an arm across his back. She notices Jake’s widening eyes, slowing heart rate, and just as he opens his lips she accepts his implicit apology. “This is stressful, I understand.” She pauses and Jake can hear the soft popping of her lips; she's choosing her words very carefully. “I was thinking. Figgis will take a while to track down. I can’t let you go alone for that long.”

Immediately Jake tenses back up. He felt that they were in an awkward stage relationship wise, even before Amy went undercover. He worried she thought that he was moving too fast too soon. That he wasn’t serious or responsible enough. He can’t stop himself from vocalizing his anxieties. “Ames, are you breaking up with me?”

Luckily for him, Amy looks equally horrified at the idea. “No, the opposite, actually—” she takes a deep breath, as Jake violently racks his mind for what that could possibly mean,“—I think we should get married. I know this is all really soon and we haven’t hit all the relationship milestones, but WITSEC only allows contact with immediate family, and after what we just went through I can’t imagine—”

He interrupts without a second thought. “—Duh-doy, of course I’ll marry you.” 

Although the proposal was a mere technicality, excitement washes over the room. Amy launches herself at Jake with wide-open arms. He squeezes her tightly and lifts her up. Figgis was still on the loose and his life was still in jeopardy, but it all seemed insignificant when he knew Amy would be by his side. He slowly lowers her down onto a pile of boxes. With their faces pulled back from each other, Jake can actually see Amy’s brilliant smile. He almost feels guilty for dampening it. “Uh, the Captain said the Marshall would be here in two hours, and everything’s closed.”

Her eyes are illuminated by that specific laser-focused excitement  that was reserved for completing a crossword puzzle, or, choosing a new notebook, or, someone concerningly, receiving praise from her captain. “Leave that to me,” she says. 

Jake can barely muster a response as Amy races to her desk. “You’re my dream girl.”

“I know,” she replies from across the precinct, no doubt doing one of her lovable dork dances from behind the door. The officers must assume that they’re somehow crazier than they already do, but Jake doesn’t care. Amy’s voice is still echoing in his ears when he returns to the captain’s office. His senses return to him, and he’s even grateful for the precinct’s faint smell of metal and burnt-coffee. 

Holt seems to have calmed down from earlier, or at the very least, he’s so immersed he can’t be bothered to deal with Jake’s crap right now. He has a pile of binders on his desk and his reading glasses are on the verge of sliding off the tip of his nose. Seeing Holt in serious action almost makes Jake feel guilty for acting out earlier.

He enters the room awkwardly, and Holt looks up from a particularly thick file and clears his throat. “Detective, I noticed you and Santiago were conversing. I trust that you have sufficiently addressed any emotional concerns this process might have, given the romantic nature of your relationship. I understand that the prolonged separation can be quite challenging to navigate. Kevin and I recently had quite an emotional conversation ourselves.”

“Hello Kevin, it is I, your husband Raymond Holt.”

“May I inquire about the occasion? This is a rather unusual time to call.”

“I agree it is quite unorthodox, but this news is urgent. I just completed a very dangerous case and my life is in danger. I am headed into a Witness Protection program indefinitely.”

“I understand. I am quite disappointed by this news.”

“As am I.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jake replies. In any other circumstance he would declare his eternal love for Amy from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge, making sure that the whole city could hear. But, although he would never admit it, he cares just as much about the Captain’s approval as she does. Whenever he imagined proposing to Amy, years down the line, he knew it would be elaborate and tasteful (to the extent he was capable of it) and when both of them were ready. He knew that’s what Amy deserved, and Holt knew it too.

“Pardon?” Holt takes his eyes off the monitor and folds his arms, and Jake feels as if he’s being interrogated. Through the glass, he watches Amy at her desk frantically typing and scribbling down notes.

He purses his lips in anticipation. He doesn’t have time to do a bit or give a fake story to dull the big news like usual, and that makes the ripping off of the bandaid even more painful. “It is possible that Amy and I maybe just decided to get married before the Marshall gets here.” 

Holt opens his mouth with a slight indication of confusion, before swallowing a gulp of air. “I see…and you’re sure that you will be able to file the requisite paperwork in time?” An entirely unremarkable—and characteristic—reaction to the situation. No hints of judgement or celebration, just an acknowledgement of simple facts. Jake supposes that he filed any emotional response away to be processed at a later point.

“Don’t worry sir, we have a plan,” Jake assures his still-skeptical Captain. “Well, Amy has a plan,” he clarifies, and Holt indicates marginal relief. 

Holt sighs, “I know I am not one to talk you out of your schemes—”

“—It’s not a scheme, it's a plan, and it’s a great one. Amy and I are going to go to whatever craphole state the Marshalls send us to, solve the case in no time and then make out 24/7,” Jake says with a new rush of adrenaline. 

“As I was saying, you seem to be quite confident,” Holt continues,  “which is why I’m not going to attempt to negotiate with you. You are excellent detectives and you clearly care a lot about each other. Congratulations to you both.” He gestures to Amy, who has her face nearly pressed to the glass behind the shades, as she tries to listen to their conversation. “Santiago, you may enter.”

Amy almost trips on her way into the office, and Jake greets her with a hug, “Did you hear that? The Captain approves!” 

Her face floods pink, undermining her already futile efforts to maintain composure. “Thank you sir, it means a lot.”

“Of course. It’s highly enjoyable to see a couple as compatible as yourselves.” Jake has to bite his tongue to avoid mocking his word choice. “Now, given that time is of the utmost essence, I urge you two to go home and gather personal documents. I’ve already spoken to the night shift’s Sergeant, and he has agreed to lend officers to escort each of you.”

“We need to get all the marriage paperwork sorted out, I can just stay here,” Jake adds, turning to his girlfriend, “Amy, all my important stuff is under my beanbag chair.” 

“That's why it's so lumpy!” 

“I’m sure Detective Boyle would be more than happy to help out with your nuptials,” Holt replies, pushing aside his disgust with his Detective’s living situation. “Here is a list of things that the Marshall will need,” he hands over two slim printouts from one of the many binders on his desk. “You are dismissed.”

“Thanks,” Jake says, flipping through the sheets. He would be so screwed trying to find this all in his apartment. 

“See you on the other side, babe,” Amy whispers as she leaves the office.

“See you on the other side,” Jake says, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before heading downstairs.

///////

One hour later.

Amy returns to the precinct with a sleek folder containing every document the Marshall requested. While gathering her necessities, she changed into her old graduation dress. It’s knee length with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, not nearly formal enough for the wedding she had several binders dedicated to, but for all she cared she would marry Jake in sweatpants and grandma glasses. 

Her jaw drops as she enters the break room.  As it turns out, Charles wasn’t the only one in the squad ecstatic about a Peralta-Santiago wedding, even if it was just a formality. As soon as the rest of the squad found out, they volunteered to help in any way possible. Rosa took her motorcycle to the City Clerk’s office where she obtained a Marriage Certificate and License, though she wouldn’t disclose how she got into the locked rooms. Terry convinced his neighbor who worked in the State Court to begrudgingly sign a letter authorizing the marriage in under 24 hours (“Theirs is a love story for the ages, for the ages Margo!”) Hitchcock and Scully even rearranged the furniture to form a sort of mock-chapel although it didn’t help that Scully was asleep on one of the couches in the back.

Charles himself went full-Boyle. The room is decorated with a beautiful miss-match of flowers from the 24/7 bodega down the street, and soft classical music was playing over the precinct’s sound system. It’s enough to make the holding cell containing a single perp with thirteen charges of public urination seem miles away. “Amy!” he turns around when he sees her, letting the banner of post-it's he’s hanging drop to the floor. 

“Charles, this is incredible!” Amy exclaims. 

“Thank you, it's not the wedding I dreamed about for you two,—that one has far more exotic birds involved, both for eating and for pleasure,—but I figured it was my job to step up as Jake’s de facto best man,” he says, pulling her into a hug. “If you hurt him I swear to god I will make you suffer for the rest of your life,” he whispers into her ear.

Amy pulls back hesitantly, “yeah, of course I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Jake.” She laughs, but no one joins.

“Seriously, we mean it,” Rosa adds, her tone somewhat undercut by the bouquet of roses she’s tying together.

“Everybody, leave Santiago alone, she’s not going to do anything,” Terry says, but his authority is undermined by the mouthful of tape from hanging up decorations. 

At that moment Jake walks in, “Leave Santiago Alone, She’s Not Going To Do Anything: title of Amy’s sex tape.” He’s changed into a white button up shirt under his leather jacket and dark jeans. His red tie and scuffed sneakers match the flower petals around them. Charles must’ve coordinated this, Amy thinks. He looks so handsome that she forgives the insult. Besides, they both knew he wasn’t speaking from experience.

“Dude, you’re literally getting married,” Rosa says, as Jake rolls his eyes. He saunters over to Amy and gives her a quick kiss. She takes his arm around her, and they walk to the back of the room for a semblance of privacy, taking a seat on the couch opposite Scully.

“Hello future wife,” Jake greets Amy. 

“Hi future Mr. Santiago,” she responds, with a slightly smug smile.

“Wait, what are we going to do about last names? Should we hyphenate?” Jake asks, frazzled. He’s still processing everything that’s happened that day. 

“We can work all that out later, but it would make paperwork a nightmare,” Amy says, as she tucks a tiny curl behind his ear. It immediately bounces back. Jake smiles at her. Of course she could still be thinking about paperwork at a time like this.

“I know it’s cliche, but I really do feel like the luckiest man on Earth,” he says. 

“Well you are being targeted by one of the countries largest crime families, so I guess it evens out.” Jake looks away in response, and Amy bites her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, I just thought with everything—”

“—No, it’s fine,” Jake says, and he quickly pulls back his frown. At some point over the past evening (early morning, really) Jake had allowed himself to believe that this marriage was forever. That it was the next step in the infinite journey they would share or whatever. His stomach churned at the nagging idea that this was just a loophole for Amy to work a case with him. 

“Babe, is everything alright?” She turns to face him, and he realizes the uncharacteristic length of his silence. 

“After all this is over—if it’s all over—are we going to stay married?” he asks, not quite able to make eye contact. 

“Is that what you want?” Amy counters.

“Maybe,” Jake responds. He definitely knows what he wants, but he tiptoes around putting Amy in a precarious position. The last thing he wants is for her to feel compelled to stay married to a guy she’s only been dating for a year. Instead, he returns the question, “is that what you want?”

She pauses for a second to think. “I want a proper wedding. With my family and everything—I think my mom would kill me if I didn’t. But I want to marry you. Preferably not in a police precinct though,” she adds. Now it’s her turn to avoid his gaze.  

“I want that too,” Jake smiles in agreement, “Although a precinct wedding doesn’t seem that bad. Terry’s kids could be our flower girls.”

“That would be adorable,” Amy says.

“Do you think Sarge could bring them in now?”

“Jake, it’s the middle of the night on a school night,” Amy reminds him. Stupid reality always getting in the way of his great ideas.

“Right,” he pauses, and then lets out a laugh. “I love you, Ames.”

“I love you too, Jake,” she says, with her head on his shoulder. He wishes that they could stay like that forever, but time (or, to be more precise, his captain’s anal scheduling practices) were not on their side.

Amy explains all the different forms they have to sign and Jake watches her carefully scan each line and write her name in font-like handwriting. She feels Jake’s leg shake underneath the table and lays her warm hand against his knee to calm him down. He picks up a pen from the floor and adds his name next to hers. He takes a moment to appreciate the smooth black ink from her favorite fountain pen next to his skipped blue-rollerball scrawl. 

“Alright, we’re married,” Jake announces, going in for a high five. Amy looks at him with disbelief, and Charles takes the opportunity to cut in and slaps his palm. The rest of the squad joins them around the table, except Hitchcock has fallen asleep on Scully’s lap.

“I can’t believe it,” Rosa shakes her head, “someone actually agreed to spend the rest of their life with Jake.”

“Hey,” Jake protests, “that’s my wife.” He looks up at Amy with his adoring heart eyes and she feels a flutter in her chest. It was the first time she was referred to like that, and he didn’t even use the Borat voice like she expected.

“Whatever. I’m happy for you dorks,” Rosa says and she’s just drunk enough not to hide her smile. “This is unacceptable,” Charles interrupts, “I mean all this work, all this build up—years of watching your heightening sexual tension—just to sign a few papers? At least give us the vows.” He gestures around at the decorations to emphasize the point.

Jake is about to butt in about how it’s not for him, and if they were able to they would celebrate more, until Terry adds on. “I agree with Charles! Terry loves love.”

“Eh, seems like a good way to kill twenty minutes, babe, you in?” Jake turns towards Amy. 

“Why not?” she says. 

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, “I can officiate, I’ve had my speech written for years. How familiar are you with the different types of tentacles?” Amy and Jake exchange horrified glances, and Jake gets ready to talk his friend down. “I’m just kidding, about the tentacles,” he clarifies, although Amy isn’t entirely convinced.

“Am I going to be able to stop you?” Jake asks.

Charles is already running to his computer when he replies, “Not in a million years!” Terry soon follows him outside, inviting every officer to come watch the ceremony. Rosa tries to wake up Hitchcock and Scully with a gentle nudge before eventually slapping them awake.

In the meantime, Jake and Amy stay at the table. They’re both exhausted from the events of the day, and Amy tries to stifle a yawn as Jake asks her nonsensical questions about life in WITSEC. “What do you want your undercover name to be? I’m thinking Larry Sherbert.”

Amy rolls her eyes, “I’m not taking the last name Sherbert.”

He smiles, “that’s right, because I took yours, Rainbow.” 

“You want my name to be Rainbow Sherbert?” she responds incredulously.

“Yep, you had hippie parents,” he explains. She’s about to tell him to knock it off, when Captain Holt enters the room. Amy instinctively straightens her posture and smooths out the front of her dress.

Holt lays the bottle of champagne he’s holding on the table, “This is from my miniature fridge. I was saving it as a mentor-to-mentee gift for when Santiago passed the Sergeant's exam, but this occasion seems equally appropriate.”

“Thank you sir. This is too kind,” Amy says, in the most formal voice she can muster. 

“Of course,” Holt says, “It is a customary gift between workplace associates such as ourselves.” Jake shifts his puzzled gaze between his wife and his Captain. He loved them both, but couldn’t for the life of him decipher their relationship.

Terry and Charles return and a few officers trickle into the chairs in the back. Holt takes a seat in the front row, next to Rosa, and Amy and Jake join Charles in the makeshift archway between the vending machines. 

“This is the happiest day of my life,” Charles whispers, putting his arms around Jake and Amy. 

“Because you found out you were adopting a child, right?” Jake checks. 

Charles blushes, “yep, totally that. I’m going to be such a responsible dad.” He rifles through his papers one last time, “Ok I’m ready whenever you are.”

Amy glances expectantly at Jake who gives her two sharp thumbs up. “I think we’re good!”“Alright let’s get this party started!” Charles announces. His volume catches the attention of the crowd, and the chatter dies down. “We are gathered here to celebrate the union of the two most magnificent people I know: Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago. Many of you have had the privilege of watching Jake and Amy’s relationship blossom from the overly competitive co-workers who drove us crazy with their constant bickering, to the glorious sight it is today.” He continues his speech, skipping over entire pages that have been crossed out, containing metaphors everyone is undoubtedly thankful not to hear. “To Jake and Amy, partners in crime solving, and now also, partners in life!” 

The room applauds, and Jake takes the time to dab at the tears he was holding back during the speech. “We come now to the words you’ve all been waiting for. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today. Jacob Zachary Peralta, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Amy Maria Santiago in marriage?”

Jake and Amy share a mischievous glance, realizing he never told Charles his actual middle name. He’s about to bring that up, along with the fact that none of the day’s events were remotely close to his intentions, but he gets the sense that Amy wouldn’t be happy if he derailed the ceremony. Instead, he smooths out his tie and confidently says, “I do.”

“And Amy Maria Santiago, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Jacob Zachary Peralta in marriage,” Charles continues, oblivious to their antics.

“I do,” Amy smiles. 

“Please face each other and hold hands,” Charles says,  pulling two silver bands out of his pocket. Amy looks at Jake with confusion and he mouths the words beanbag chair. Charles instructs the two to repeat after him as they place the rings on each other’s fingers. The whole ceremony starts to blur in Amy’s mind as she realizes Jake already had this ring that somehow slid perfectly on her finger.

“And now, by the power invested in me by the state of New York, it is my honor to declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Charles declares, tossing his papers on the ground for dramatic effect. Jake reaches his arm around Amy’s back in an attempt to dip her as some grand romantic gesture. She fumbles a little and ends up standing up and pulling her head up to his until their lips meet in a warm, invigorating kiss. Both of them chuckle as they pull apart. A few of the officers take that as a cue to return to the bullpen.

“It’s my grandma’s—the dead one’s,” Jake explains, pointing to Amy’s ring, “—and that’s like the one Peralta marriage that wasn’t a total failure so I thought it would bring good luck or something. Plus, you know the crushing debt.”

“It’s perfect,” Amy says, examining the carefully carved diamonds.

Captain Holt rises from his seat and reaches for the bottle of champagne, announcing a toast. As he starts to open the bottle, the cork goes flying across the room, shattering the vending machine glass. Hitchcock and Scully race towards the rubble to steal some free snacks. It’s at that moment that the Marshall, who unbeknownst to the squad had been waiting outside the Captain's office, decides to examine the break room and investigate the noise. 

There’s a moment of silence, interrupted only by the fizzing of the overflowing champagne. Amy feels her stomach churning as if she’s somehow in trouble. Holt is at a complete loss for words. At last, it’s Charles who speaks up, hesitantly saying “Mazel Tov?”

[contextualizd]

So it's my first time ever to try writing a short story/fan fiction. I'm a huge fan of B99 and I've read so many amazing fics here and on AO3, so I tried writing one. I love the jealous/pining Amy plot cause I feel like we don't see that a lot on TV, so that's what I went for. This is a little sad but hopeful. I've read some fics of the same plot so I may have gotten some inspiration from them. I also used Of Monsters and Men's version of the song ”Circles” as inspiration: Run away, but we're running in circles.

And again, it's my first time EVER to write a fictional short story so please bear with me. I mostly just write poems and essays so this is all very new to me. I'd be happy to hear your thoughts though. But please be gentle. Haha. Anyway, here it goes...

NOTE: Also posted here and on AO3.

"Run away, but we're running in circles"

Plot:

Set after Det. Majors, where Amy told Jake about her rule of not dating cops, and before Johnny and Dora.

Caroline, another detective friend of Jake's from his old precinct comes to the 99 to work on a research.

They reconnect and Amy learns from Caroline herself that she really liked Jake and now that he's single, she's hoping that something could finally happen between them. And Amy starts regretting her decision of telling Jake about her stupid rule.

Amy looked up from her computer for the nth time. The desk opposite her is still empty. It's almost lunchtime and Jake hasn't come in yet. She's wondering if he's called in sick or something. She can just text him to ask of course, but since that day she told him about her rule of not dating cops, things have been kinda awkward between them.

She doesn't want to ask Charles cause he'll just tease her. He hasn't stopped teasing her since he found out she had feelings for Jake. It's not really helping with the way things are right now.

Rosa probably won't mind but she's certain that she doesn't care so much about Jake's whereabouts either.

Terry is out on a workplace seminar.

And she's too intimidated to talk to Gina.

Her only other option is to ask Captain Holt, but he's not in his office as well. Something about a meeting in One Police Plaza.

Why does she care so much anyway? Oh yeah, it's because she still likes Jake. But she can't tell him because of her stupid rule. She keeps telling herself that it's for the best. She doesn't want to risk whatever friendship they have just because of a stupid crush.

After about an hour, the elevator dings, and out came Captain Holt with Jake and a very pretty blonde girl.

She's so pretty and her face is so charming. Her hair is so straight and swishy. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles and she has a tiny dimple on her left cheek. She seems to be leaning closely to Jake while talking and laughing animatedly. Amy was so focused on her and how she seems to know Jake so well that she didn't even notice that Captain Holt was talking to the squad.

"..and so we agreed that they can research the system in a number of preselected precincts via observation. Which is why Ms. Caroline Gomez here from the Information Technology Bureau will be joining us for a few days to observe and study our day-to-day processes. Do make her feel at home."

"Thank you, Captain." Caroline smiles sweetly at him.

"I hope you'll find the squad to be helpful for your research. You could maybe start by taking a tour around the precinct. Detective Peralta can help you with that."

"You got it, Captain." Says Jake.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything. Good luck."

After Captain Holt retreated to his office Jake started to introduce Caroline to the squad. It turns out that Caroline was an old friend of Jake's from his old precinct. She's been transferred to the Strategic Technology Division and is researching a project that her team is working on. She reached out to Jake when she found out that he's working at the 99 to see if they can arrange a meeting with Captain Holt. The project is confidential but it was discussed with Captain Holt during the meeting. Jake came with him to One Police Plaza out of curiosity but he was "excluded" because according to him, "They probably thought they won't be able to handle my inputs."

"You remember Gina?" Jake asks Caroline.

"How could anyone ever forget Gina?"

"I know right? What's up girl?" Gina winks at her.

"I'm great. This is great. I'm so lucky that I at least knew some people here. I was so worried about doing this research cause I don't know how the precincts would feel about an 'outsider' snooping around."

"Nonsense! You're not an outsider. Plus Captain totally approves of that project. Whatever the hell that is. Anyway, come on, I'll show you around. First up, the best part of the precinct: the breakroom." Jake says, pulling Caroline to the direction of the breakroom.

"She hasn't changed one bit. She still runs after Jake like a little puppy." Says Gina while shaking her head slowly.

"What do you mean?" asks Amy.

"I remember when they were still working together, I'd be hanging out with Jake at Nana's apartment, the one where I live now, and she would just show up out of nowhere talking about work or something. Then she'd just stay there and hang out with us completely forgetting about the work thing. Jake kept saying they're just friends but I know there's something between them. Sometimes she would stay behind even after I left. I bet they hooked up a lot." With that, Gina left.

Charles turns to Amy with a worried look. "Are you okay?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Amy tells him, though she's not entirely sure if she is.

First on Caroline's To-Do list that day was to study about the 99's process when it comes to reports and paperwork, so Captain Holt assigned Amy to help her.

Amy loves talking about paperwork but for some reason, she feels uncomfortable about this task. But Caroline was actually really sweet and funny, so she started to slowly feel at ease.

"I'm so sorry. This is probably too tedious for you," Caroline tells Amy.

"No, not at all. I love paperwork. Like you have no idea."

"Really? That's so cool. Although Captain Holt did say that you're the best person for this task."

"Really? Captain Holt said that?"

But Caroline wasn't able to answer her cause she was too busy looking at Jake who just passed by engrossed in a case file.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"You and Jake are pretty close huh?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Though, we weren't able to keep in touch after he was transferred. That's why I was so excited when I found out that he's here at the 99. I missed him a lot."

"Do you... like him?" Amy blurted out, immediately regretting her question.

"What? Oh god. Am I that obvious? Haha."

Well... Amy just shrugged.

"I.... do. Yeah. I've always liked him. Even before, when we're still working together. I just never thought I was his type. Do you think he'll like me back?"

Oh. "Um...." She didn't have any problem admitting it huh. If it's so easy for her why am I finding it so hard? Amy thought to herself.

"I'm sorry that's a stupid question. But.. do you know if he's single? Is he dating anybody? I mean, I was kinda hoping that maybe something could happen between us this time."

"Uh.. yeah... I think so. None.. that I know of."

"I'm so sorry about my silly questions. I should be focusing on my research. It's just that I think you guys are so close. And I felt super hopeful especially now that we're hanging out again. It's amazing. We're actually heading out for lunch. You wanna join us?"

"Oh. No... no... I'm fine. Thanks."

"You sure? Well, it's almost lunchtime, I'd better go check if he's ready to go. Thank you so much for your help."

"Sure thing. No problem at all."

"Okay, see you later."

Amy watched as she goes to Jake who immediately put down his case file and got ready to go. They left the precinct laughing at something, probably a clever joke that Caroline told him, while she just stared at them till the elevator doors closed.

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

The next day, Jake.. and Caroline are nowhere to be found. Amy hasn't seen them since she came to work this morning.

"They went on a date."

"What?! What are you talking about Boyle? Also, why are you sitting so close to me??" Amy tells Charles who's suddenly by her side.

"You're looking for Jake and Caroline, right? I'm pretty sure they went on a date last night. That's probably why they're coming in late today. I'm telling you, Amy, you should do something. I mean, I like Caroline but I like you better for Jake." Charles said with a wink.

"Okay, first of all... I'm not looking for them. Second, never ever wink at me again. And third, I'm not gonna do anything because I made up my mind and I would never date a cop again. Let him date Caroline if he wants to."

"Fine. If you're gonna choose to break your own heart, then fine." Charles tells her leaving her thinking once again. Is that what she's doing? Is she really breaking her own heart?

At around 10:30, they finally arrived together and Jake is carrying Caroline's bag.

Such a boyfriend move. Are they together now? This girl works fast. Amy thought to herself.

Gina who seems to be thinking the same thing as Amy is, went to Jake's desk while Caroline went straight to Captain Holt's office.

"So I guess, chivalry really is not dead huh?"

"Hmm? What's that now?" Jake asks her.

"You carrying her bag when you came to work together. I didn't know you were such a gentleman. Are you like this with all your girlfriends or just her?"

"What? No-no-no. I mean, of course, I'm a gentleman with my girlfriends, but Caroline is not my girlfriend. I'm just carrying her bag because it has the files about this 'confidential' project that we picked up from One Police Plaza this morning. I was hoping I could get a peek but I never got a chance. I am dying to know what this project is about!"

"You picked up the files for her?" Amy couldn't help but butt in.

"Well, I volunteered, but she wouldn't let me pick them up myself. So I just accompanied her this morning to get them. And when I saw that they look heavy, I saw an opportunity. So I offered to carry the bag but I never had the chance to take a look. She's watching it like a frigging hawk!"

Still a boyfriend move. I wonder if he’d carry my bag for me if it looks heavy. He probably would if I was his girlfriend. Which I’m not. Amy thought, once again imagining what might have been.

"Well, this has become a work story, I'm no longer interested. Buh-bye!" Gina says as she returns to her desk leaving the two of them staring at each other. And for some reason, things have suddenly become awkward again.

"Classic Gina," Jake tells her with a shrug and a shy smile.

"Yeah. So.... are you guys dating?" Amy asks him, unable to help herself. She just really wanted to know.

"Me and Caroline? No." Jake answered almost too quickly.

"Why not? I think she likes you."

"What? I mean, I dunno. I think she's great but I never really thought of her that way before."

"Maybe you should ask her out."

"Oh... You think so?" Jake looks genuinely surprised by what she said. And to be honest she's surprised by her own question as well. Maybe she really is breaking her own heart.

"Ooh! You think she'd tell me about the project if we end up being together?" Jake asks her.

"Jake!" Amy scolded him shaking her head at him. Though that actually made her smile a little bit. He's such an idiot sometimes.

"No. Yeah I know. That's such a dick move. But seriously... do you really think I should ask her out?" Jake asks her again but this time there's something in his eyes as he stares at her. Like he's looking for something. Confirmation maybe? Like he's asking her if that's what she really wants him to do.

"Mhmm. Yeah." Was all she could manage.

"Okay. Yeah.. maybe." Jake answered, much to Amy's dismay.

And they both fell silent after that. Focusing on their computer screens, trying to avoid the longing gaze from each other's eyes.

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

That night, Amy went out for drinks at Shaw's with the squad. Except for Jake and Caroline. Jake had to work on a case and Caroline kept him company. She cares for him a lot. She's really perfect for him.

But I can do that too. I also care for him a lot. I wanna be the one waiting for him while he works on a case. Maybe even help him cause we work so well together. I wanna be the one he comes to work with and the one he goes home with.

She's always wanted to be that person for him. When he broke up with Sophia, she saw that glimmer of hope once again. The feeling that something might happen between them. If she's being honest that feeling never really went away. She's just too scared to face it. Plus she's certain that his feelings for her were all gone now, after she turned him down twice because of Teddy. Though every once in a while they share a moment that makes her think maybe there's still something between them. But anytime that happens, one of them seems to pull back, too scared to jump in.

Amy tries to shake those thoughts away. Rosa finds her with her bottle of beer that's no longer cold.

"Hey. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Is it Jake? What's the matter with you two? Why are you not dating still? You both like each other. Just go out already."

"It's too complicated Rosa. Dating a cop is too messy. It could ruin everything like how it ruined everything with Teddy. I don't want that to happen between me and Jake. Plus there’s Caroline now. I’m sure he’s better off with her.”

"You're the only one that's making it complicated with your stupid rules. You keep pushing him away. Then you'll realize that you really like him. But then he's already with someone else. You guys are running around in circles. Now you're sitting here looking so lonely. You look pathetic."

"Gee. Thanks a lot."

"Look if you don't want to date Jake because it's 'too messy', maybe you should go out with someone else. That guy looks cute."

Rosa points to a guy sitting alone at the other side of the bar who does look kinda cute.

"Yeah. Maybe I should."

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

It was Caroline's 3rd day at the 99 and Amy had to help her with some case files that she needed to study. There's only the two of them inside the evidence lock up and it was getting kinda awkward, for Amy that is, so she tried to start a conversation.

"So how's it going with you and Jake?" She couldn't think of anything else to talk about. Unfortunately, Jake was the only thing she can think of that they have in common.

"Oh... it's great. He finally asked me out. We're going on an actual date tonight." Caroline tells her.

She's so happy and giddy, Amy couldn't help but feel happy for her as well. Though she knows that a part of her wants to be in her place.

"I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, I really can't wait for tonight. I'm so excited."

Amy tried to give her the best smile she could muster.

When Amy went to the break room to get some coffee, she found Jake eating his breakfast.

"Hey" Jake greeted him awkwardly.

"Hey. Um.. so I heard you finally asked Caroline out."

"I did. Yeah."

"Great. Good for you." She can tell that Jake isn't comfortable talking about this either.

"Thanks."

"I'm also going out on a date tonight."

"Really?" Jake was genuinely surprised. And for a moment Amy thought that she saw a hint of something in his eyes. Is it sadness? Pain?

"Who's the unlucky guy?"

"Someone I met from the bar last night. He's actually really nice. We talked a lot. So he asked me out on a proper date."

"Well, good for you as well then. Did you check if he's a cop? You know, because of the rule."

"No. Yeah, I probably should do that. Better be safe, right? Haha."

"Well. Um.. have fun."

"Yeah, you too."

Truth is, she doesn't really have a date. She didn't even know the name of that guy from the bar. He was cute and he seemed great but she just couldn't find her interest in dating anyone else right now. She just said that to make Jake think that she's totally fine with him going out with Caroline. And that she's not regretting her stupid rule about not dating cops for even a second.

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

"So how's the date?" Amy asks Caroline the next morning.

"It was great. But..."

"But what?"

"Well.. he doesn't like me back."

"What? Why? What happened?"

"It was really great. We talked a lot the whole night. We laughed so much. It was fun really. But when the night was over and I tried to kiss him.. he didn't kiss me back."

"Oh god. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. He was actually really sweet about it. He apologized to me, and he said he was genuinely sorry. Said he thinks I'm amazing, but that he just couldn't find his interest in dating right now."

"He said that?"

"Yeah. But to be honest, I think he likes someone else."

"Really? Why would you think that?"

"I dunno. I just kinda felt it. Like he's longing for someone but he can't be with her and he just doesn't want to date anyone if it's not her."

"He told you this?"

"No. I don't think he'd ever tell me anything about it. But I can feel it. I can see it in his eyes."

They were both quiet for a while.

"Um... I don't know what to say. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." Caroline smiled at her.

Amy feels bad for her. She really does. But in a way, her heart feels light with relief to know that Jake doesn't want to date anyone else either.

When she went back to her desk, Jake was burrowed deep in paperwork. But he looked up when she sat down and smiled at her.

"Hey, so I heard the news from Caroline. What happened?" Amy asks Jake trying to find out what he's gonna say about it.

"I dunno. I guess I just realized that maybe you're right. Dating cops can be messy. I didn't want to ruin what we have." Jake shrugged.

"Right. Of course. No dating cops. The best rule, right?"

Jake stares at her for a while before answering. "Sure...Yeah."

Amy wanted to say something. She wants to take it back so badly. She wants to tell him that it's all bullshit and she doesn't care how messy it could get just as long as she's with him. But she didn't.

She doesn't know what's holding her back. Maybe she's too scared. She's never felt like this before. She's always been sure about her decisions. Always calculated every step. But with Jake, her entire system just seems to fall apart. It's so bizarre and it feels good but it's also so scary. Because for the first time in her life she's not sure what to do next.

They didn't say a word after that and just went back to focusing on the work in front of them. Trying not to think of what could have been if they were not cops working together and falling for each other. Or if they would just stop running around in circles.

[rynhaswritersblock]

NINE-NINE! | p.p.

summary: you and peter spend most nights watching brooklyn nine-nine together and have found just how similar the two of you were to the show's lead couple, jake and amy

warnings: i think i used the s word like twice also b99 spoilers!!!!!

+ + +

"Terry loves yogurt." you laugh, readjusting yourself as you mimic Terry Jeffords from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, you and Peter's favorite show.

This was a common tradition for you and Peter. Since the two of you moved into the Avengers compound, free nights have been spent watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and needless to say, the two of you have been through multiple rounds of all the seasons. Basically, you could act them out if you needed to. The rest of the Avengers had most definitely noticed, and would frequently walk by the two of you, throwing a smug comment that made both of you blush and shift uncomfortably.

"Yes he does," Peter mutters, throwing an arm across the couch, his forearm just behind your head.

Your cheeks heat up at his movements. You glance at him, noticing his gaze still hard on the TV.

An idea sparks in Peter's head and he sneaks a gaze over at you for a split second before dropping his hand, palm landing on your shoulder. Your eyebrows furrow and you look over at him. A small smirk tugs at his lips as he suddenly pulls you in his direction, making you fall on your side, head landing in his lap.

"Pete," you laugh. Your breath slightly catches in your throat as you become suddenly aware of how close your head is to his-

"What?" he asks innocently, looking down at you.

You push away the feeling in your stomach that goes off when you see the curls hanging over his forehead.

"Nothing." you clear your throat, adjusting yourself. "This is uncomfortable."

You move so that you were now sat up right next to him, his arm around you as you leaned your head into his shoulder, legs thrown over his lap so you were cradled into him.

"Is this okay?" you ask quietly as you refocus yourself onto the show.

"Yeah," Peter breathes out, his tone indistinguishable.

A few minutes pass, attention on the screen as you watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine, lightly smiling to yourself at how content you were.

"Jake and Amy are so cute," you whisper.

"True." Peter nods, "They kinda remind me of us."

Your eyes widen. "What?"

"Like, you can remind me of Amy, and sometimes I can be like Jake," the boy shrugs, rubbing circles on your shoulder.

"Yeah, but you know they get married, right?" you furrow your brows. "Or did you forget?"

The time between then end of your sentence and the beginning of Peter's was a tad bit too long, making your heart skip a beat.

"Yeah, I know," Peter shrugs. The boy had redness all over his cheeks. He couldn't help but compare you and him to Amy and Jake whenever you watched; their dynamic and understanding of each other something the two of you almost always had.

Flustered, you decide to skip back in the conversation. "I liked their first kiss a lot,"

"You did? Why?" Peter asks, becoming confused as to why you brought it up so suddenly. Were you hinting at him? Did you actually like him back? Is that how you wanted your first kiss to be, and with him? Peter had always thought you didn't like him back, probably due to a lack of self confidence and how you would always call him a brother whenever any of the Avengers would make fun of the two of you.

"I don't know," you shrug, "it was pretty creative to do it like that. Undercover and on a mission and whatever."

All Peter did was nod slowly, his mind abandoning watching the show altogether and running through the possibility that you could like him back. Eventually, the boy decided that if he were to kiss you, he wanted to do it the way Jake Peralta did it.

"What are you two lovebirds doing?" Sam smirks, a smug look painted on his face as he plopped down on the couch next to yours, kicking his feet up as he leaned back.

"Watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine, what are you doing, Sam?" you ask defensively as you give him a look.

"Yeah, Sam, what are you doing?" Peter backs you up.

"Jesus, just asking the lovers what they're up to?" Sam retorts, his smug look only getting worse.

"We're not lovers, Wilson!" you cock your head, ignoring the bright red roses that had bloomed on your cheeks. "Can't two best friends just cuddle for comfort while watching their favorite TV show?"

Sam gives you a weird look before glancing at Peter. The curly-haired boy just raises his eyebrows as if to say "you heard the girl!"

The man sighs before shaking his head and getting up from his seat.

"Always gotta turn it on me," he mutters as he walks away, a small grin beginning to tug on your lips as you hear the footsteps recede.

Once he's out of earshot, the two of you burst out laughing, your face pressing into Peter's chest as you wheeze. After a moment, you finally calm down, relaxing in Peter's arms.

"You know, I see what you meant about the whole us being like Jake and Amy thing," you say, refocusing on the show, a new episode starting.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I mean, just go through that conversation we just had in Jake and Amy's voices."

Peter waits a moment before laughing lightly. "Yeah, perfect match."

+ + +

"You know I'm getting déjà vu?" you ask the boy behind you.

"Why?" Peter asks, voice slightly muffled by the mask of his suit.

The two of you were on a mission, trying to catch a group of bad guys. While they weren't necessarily an "Avengers level threat", you and Peter frequently took care of neighborhood crimes while patrolling. It was almost midnight, the two of you on the sidewalk, heads peeking around the corner as you watched the drug deal take place.

"This is some Brooklyn Nine-Nine shit," you whisper, smiling.

"Like half of the stuff we do is Brooklyn Nine-Nine shit," Peter replies.

"Whatever."

To be honest, that wasn't the only cause for your déjà vu. You were thinking of Jake and Amy's first kiss, how Jake had kissed Amy as a cover to hide from the person they were trying to catch.

Just as the bad guys were about to make their deal, the two of you jumped out, immediately attacking. Lucky for you, you had super speed and advanced combat training, so you quickly wiped them out in only a matter of seconds, leaving Peter to awkwardly watch, feeling useless.

"Spider-Boy!"

"Oh! Right," he responded, jumping in and webbing them to the wall. He would often lose himself as he watched you, always marveling as how fast yet graceful you were.

The two of you sighed, high-fiving as you began to walk away, leaving the bad guys webbed up and unable to speak. You sent out a quick message to the police to give them their location. You both turned the corner, still breathing heavy as you leaned against the cold brick wall. Peter reached up and gently pulled the mask off your face. You gave him a weird, confused look before deciding to pull his off, revealing his pink cheeks and crazy curly hair.

"What was that for?" you ask.

The boy shrugs. "You looked like you needed to breathe."

You purse your lips before nodding, looking around with a sigh. "We got the bad guys. We could leave."

"Yeah," Peter breathes. "we could."

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at the boy, your thoughts wrapping around his words and pulling them apart, trying to figure out his meaning.

But then Peter stepped forward.

And then it was pretty clear.

He was only a mere inch away from you, noses just barely touching. You could feel Peter's light breath against your skin as you let your gaze follow Peter's to your lips. You let your eyes fall onto his own lips, heart racing. Peter leaned in ever so slightly, making your noses touch, before-

"Let's go!"

Peter jumped back at the yell coming from the alley.

"What the hell?" you whisper, whipping your head around to see that the bad guys had somehow broken free.

"Come on, man!" Peter whines, shooting webs and pulling them, making the all bad guys knock their heads against each others. "I was trying to kiss her!"

They all fall to the ground, unconscious.

Your eyebrows furrow angrily as you give the pile of men a frustrated look. "Yeah, dude! He was trying to kiss m- wait wha-"

Peter turns and presses his lips to yours, one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist. You kiss him back, hands making contact with his chest before the two of you slowly pull apart, eyes slightly wide and lips ever so swollen.

"Was that close enough to Jake and Amy's?" Peter breathes, a crooked smile tugging on his lips.

You shrug, trying to hide your smile. "Close enough."

+ + +

brooklyn nine-nine. what a SHOW!!!!!!

[vernonfielding]

A moment of divinity

Story No. 12 of my Season 7 Countdown Project. This one is written for @andrewsambags and @madeofitzits, who are both such incredible assets to the B99/Newsomberg(/bespectacled-Jake/Andy) fandom.

This story is ALSO my submission to the B99 2020 Vision Challenge. Thank you to the organizers at @b99fandomevents for putting it together!

Summary: “I got to see the world through your eyes.”

The morning he accidentally switched contact lenses with Amy was one of Jake’s favorite moments of their first year of marriage. Interesting. Takes place during Casecation. (Read on AO3.)

Jake high-fives Amy on his way out of the shower and her way in. Once upon a time in their relationship they would have showered together if they were running late for work and needed to save some time (and more likely making themselves even later). But they’ve been married three months now and living together for two years and honestly, shower sex is super overrated. It’s crazy slippery and someone always bumps an elbow or gets soap in a really uncomfortable place and it’s too cramped to get the right angles or leverage.

Still, it’s fun watching Amy’s butt disappear behind the shower curtain.

Jake grins to himself as he turns to the medicine cabinet. The mirror is steamed over and he resists clearing a spot with his hand – Amy hates the smudges – and opens the door to grab his contacts. For a second he’s confused when he can’t find the familiar frog-face case he keeps his in, but then he remembers Amy made him throw the case out after he dropped it in the toilet. He sighs and takes out the boring blue case instead.

He’s only had contacts for about a year and he’s still not good at putting them in blind, so when he closes the cabinet door he glances at the shower, and Amy’s hazy (but still somehow sexy) profile under the water, and then rubs clean a corner of the mirror so he can see what he’s doing.

The first one pops in but feels weird against his eyelid, like it’s at the wrong angle (which yes, he knows is impossible, it’s a circle), but he blinks a few times and it seems to settle. The same happens with the second one. His vision is a little off but the bathroom’s full of steam so he just closes his eyes as he towels himself off and slips on the boxers he slept in.

He opens his eyes again as he turns toward the bedroom – and for a second he thinks he’s having a stroke. He doesn’t have any idea what a stroke feels like (he’s not entirely sure what a stroke is, actually) but the sudden blurred vision, the way the familiar lines and shapes of their bedroom have gone all sideways, and the accompanying vertigo must mean that something is very, very wrong. Jake stumbles toward the bed, hands flailing out in front of him because he can’t see, and practically collapses. His heart is hammering in his chest and he’s blinking madly, eyes tearing up.

His eyes – Jake laughs out loud when he figures it out. He’s put in Amy’s contact lenses. She’d even told him when he borrowed her extra contact lens case to be careful they didn’t mix them up.

He’s massively relieved that his brain isn’t going to explode (he’s pretty sure that’s what a stroke does), and he flops back on the bed, blinking up at the blurry ceiling fan spinning slowly overhead. His vision is still totally screwed up but the contacts aren’t actually uncomfortable, and as long as he just lies there he doesn’t feel dizzy.

It occurs to him that in a way, he’s seeing through Amy’s eyes. And he knows that’s not really how it works and that Amy would tell him he’s being ridiculous but- it’s also kind of true.

He smiles to himself as he pushes up on his elbows and slowly looks all around their bedroom, taking in the familiar and yet suddenly new surroundings. He squints at their matching bedside lamps and the floral prints hanging on either side of the headboard, the colors and shapes fuzzy, taking on new forms. The ferns on top of the armoire are a dark, muddy green, and their blurry arms seem to be waving at him in the breeze from the fan. The wicker laundry basket in the corner is a friendly looking lump, the bookcase a somewhat threatening dark tower, looming over the bed.

He knows this room so well that he could close his eyes and perfectly imagine the line-up of items on Amy’s dresser: the bottles of perfume and lotion, the silver tree that holds her few pieces of jewelry, the quilted box that her abuela gave her long ago, still holding the keepsakes of a child, shells and foreign coins and shiny buttons. He cranes his head to look behind him anyway, to see the shape of them from a fresh, Amy perspective.

He’s been seeing the world through her eyes for years now, really – as a partner and as a friend, as someone he loves and as someone he will spend the rest of his life with. But it hits him anew, now that he’s literally (sort of) seeing through her eyes, how incredibly lucky he is. No one else gets to be this close to her, gets to share her life with her and experience the world with her always at his side. His heart seizes at the power of that thought.

This woman – somehow he finds a way to love her more every single day.

“Jake!” Amy’s panicked voice shakes him out of his near-blind reverie, and Jake sits up, looking blearily toward the bathroom.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

Amy doesn’t answer right away, but Jake makes out her hazy silhouette in the bathroom doorway, steam puffing out around her so she looks like a dream, soft and ethereal.

“Ames?”

“Why am I wearing your contact lenses?”

Jake shuts his mouth. He blinks at her and though it doesn’t help clear his vision, he feels pretty confident that she looks annoyed. Perhaps very annoyed.

Then she tilts her head to one side, and he can feel her eyes on his face, and she says, soft this time, “You’re looking at the world through my eyes, aren’t you.”

“Maybe?”

Amy stumbles toward him, arms outstretched the same way his were, towel wrapped around her body, and when she bumps into his knees she grabs onto his shoulders and peers into his eyes (probably – even up close he can’t see too well).

She says, “You are a ridiculous goofball and I love you, so much.”

He beams back up at her and says, “I love you,” and he kisses her with his eyes – her eyes – wide open.

+++

Amy refuses to let him have his own contacts back after they’ve both taken the lenses out of their eyes.

“They’ve been in my eyes. That’s gross,” she says.

“But I’ve just been wearing your contact lenses for the past five minutes,” Jake says.

“Yes, and that was sweet, but also gross,” Amy says, and dumps his contacts into the trash, along with her own.

The thing is: Amy has a backup pair. Jake does not. He was down to his last pair and hadn’t gotten around to ordering more and yes, Amy told him ages ago to just get the daily disposables so he’d always have a huge supply on hand but he hasn’t yet.

“You can’t go to work blind,” she says, following him into the kitchen once they’re both finally dressed.

“What do you think I did before contacts?” Jake says.

“I try not to think about that,” Amy says. “Seriously, put on your glasses, babe.”

He rolls his eyes – his back is to her, so it’s safe – and squints into the refrigerator to make sure he grabs the orange soda and not the Orangina bottle. When he turns around, Amy’s right in front of him, close enough that he can see her just fine.

“Please?” she says.

She doesn’t wait for him to reply, just unfolds his glasses and carefully slides them onto his face, nudging them into place with a finger. The room snaps into focus, startling and satisfying at once.

“Better?” Amy says.

Jake shrugs and mutters “I don’t know” under his breath even though he knows he’s being childish. It’s only when he sits down at the table with his bowl of Froot Loops that he realizes he’s grabbed the Orangina after all.

When Amy hands him the orange soda instead, the smirk on her face is clear as day.

+++

No one at the precinct cares about his glasses. The only person who says anything is Charles, and he tells Jake that he looks like an international spy slash billionaire playboy slash Russian dancer.

“All three?” Jake says.

“Not all at once, but yes,” Charles says.

“Cool,” Jake says, and means it.

He’s still not planning to ever wear the glasses in public again, until he’s walking out of the precinct with Amy, their shifts ending at the same time for once, and she yanks him by his badge into a dark corner of the parking garage and mauls him with her lips.

“What was that for?” Jake says, panting, when she finally breaks away. His glasses have steamed up, and he reaches up to take them off so he can wipe them on his shirt.

Amy grabs his hand though and growls. “Leave them on.”

“Oh,” Jake says. And then, “Oh.”

He does eventually get new contacts. Just- not right away.

End Notes:

Title is from Bikini Babe Workout (Bash Brothers).

When I first saw the 2020 Vision Challenge (with associated squinting Jake gif) I immediately was like, oh hell yeah I’m writing Jake with glasses! And then I saw the theme was “new” and thought about Jake seeing the world through a “new,” Amy perspective. And well. Here we are.

At first I just thought it’d be fun to try to explain how they managed to swap contact lenses. But as I got started writing I had to ask myself, Why in the world would this be a top five moment for Jake?? That’s a weird top five, right? (I hope my answer is satisfying.)

This canon doesn’t match with my AC/DC canon (in which Jake already has contacts/glasses). But my rule for this project is that the fics only have to be compliant with actual canon, not my own canon. I know, that is too many canons. Just trust me, it’s all cool.

I would have been happy to have written an ending wherein Jake decides to wear his glasses every day forever and ever but – stupid canon. Here’s hoping for season 7 bespectacled Jake.

[hecohansen31]

The Tomboy & The Model:

 Model! Michael Langdon+Tomboyish! Reader

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I am back with a new Michael’s idea I hope you’ll like! 

I honestly firstly discussed this idea with @sojournmichael so big shoutout to her, and to my group of friends her for making me actually publish and write this fic, since I ended up having a bit or... PROBLEMS with it...

I am actually very out of the fashion industry so, exactly as with the cam-world, if you see some things which aren’t quite right, please let me know and I’ll do my best to actually correct them.

Also I tried to keep the reader being a tomboy a bit behind, so that anybody can try to see themselves in her, without having to stop anybody from feeling a bit like the Reader, so I hope you won’t hate me too much for that-

With this being said... I really hope you’ll like it, and please if you do end up enjoying, leave an heart, reblog he fic (if possible writing something... I am always the most anxious about hearing what you thought of my writing) or shot me an ask or a DM.

If you didn’t like it, please let me know, kindly, what didn’t work so that I could make it work better in the future!

Much love!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You and shy model Michael could be the most different people in the world, but somehow you end up working quite well together.

WORDS: 9 K

WARNINGS: Sub! Michael, Dom! Reader (also brief mention of Dom! Michael and Sub! Reader), Spanking, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Orgasm Denial, A Bit Of Dirty Talk, Use of the F-word, and Drunken Assault.

She had been always the type to prefer more masculine things: it wasn’t anything strange for her to run with the boys and play with them and slowly she had started taking over some of their mannerism.

It had been always her true nature to be much more masculine “than women were supposed to be”, according to her mother.

Her mother had been extremely disappointed by the fact that she hadn’t wanted to own a more feminine body and although she had made some concessions towards her style, she mostly went by her own way, which meant jeans, mostly large and graphic shirts for the summer and sweaters for the winter.

She enjoyed the gym and wasn’t afraid to assume a more manly role, such as paying for the bill or being the one who did the first move, which got her in so much trouble and rejections that she sometimes thought about giving up that nature just to get a bit of affection.

It hurt her to think about a future alone, although she had friends who loved and a family who supported her, but when everybody was so crazy about love, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by her lack of.

She was a big romantic, underneath the harsh armor she wore.

And she was also a complainer, according to her roommate Mallory, who had set her up with a boy that Wednesday, insisting it would have been a fun idea.

“You basically set me up with a stranger” she had mumbled, meanwhile her roommate, a professional make-up artist, put eyeshadow on her lids after she had squeezed her in a nice outfit, still jeans but it was paired with a silky black blouse, giving her a vampire aesthetic she dug, enhanced by Mallory expert work with brushes and beauty blenders “I have watched too many “Law and Order SVU” episodes to believe that this will end well”.

“Shut up, and pucker up your lips” had replied Mallory, pushing out a shiny lip-gloss, getting an eyes roll from her, a clear way of asking her if it was truly necessary “… Michael is a nice guy, I wouldn’t set you up with psycho”.

She only had one clue, since according to Mallory “spoiling the identity of his date would ruin the magic of it”, alongside mumbling something about her being a bit too much of a cyber-stalker…

And that clue was that her date’s name was Michael, biblical and decidedly normal, too little for her to check him out on Instagram (although she had tried).

Mallory had gently rolled the lipstick onto her lips, till she was satisfied.

She already had felt uncomfortable due to the sticky sensation between her lips, deciding to clean it as soon as she was alone in the little diner they were supposed to meet for an appetizer.

Mallory had then pushed a mirror in her face, revealing a flushed face, and although the entire ensemble hadn’t made her feel like a clown, it was a bit too much for her.

Still it had looked definitely badass, enough that she knew why her roommate was so requested: she was lovely, without losing anything of herself.

“… also you look amazing” had mumbled shyly Mal, meanwhile she adjusted her hair, gently pushing out of her face “… he will have a dumbstruck expression when he’ll see you”.

She had doubted it, but she had felt confident and definitely not in need of the validation of a man.

And she definitely hadn’t needed her date being late, already annoyed by the entire ordeal, with a perfect plan to occupy better that night: “B99”, the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and best of all… her bed, warm and comfortable.

She had been thinking this when suddenly she had felt a deep breath in front of her and she had raised her eyes as soon as the spot in front of her had been shadowed and there, in front of her, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

An elegant dust of red had been smeared on his lids, meanwhile kohl lined his eyes matching the outfit he had worn an elegant leather jacket on a red graphic shirt with “Gucci” written all over it, tucked in a pair of skinny ripped jeans, giving him a grunge look she fell in love with, meanwhile his face had an angelic trait, a clear contrast with his devilish outfit.

He had been blushing, clearly out of breath, his cheeks blossoming of a pink shade, meanwhile his eyes had tried to meet hers, looking at her as if she was searching something, which had gotten her to assume a confident stance or at least try to.

She had reasoned he couldn’t be a waiter, so he must have just come in, another client like her.

-I am Michael- he had blurted out and it had taken her a few minutes to link it with her date, meanwhile the boy had looked at her expectantly, without knowing what to do and asking for instructions -… Mallory’s friend-.

-Oh…- he was her date.

Her date was very beautiful: an androgynous god, with curly hair she wanted to caress.

-May… I … sit? – he had asked, shyly, ducking his head, meanwhile she had simply nodded trying to square up in her seat, and form a coherent dialogue.

-Of course- what a brilliant answer -… I am (Y/N), Mallory’s other friend- she had mumbled, cursing at the absurdity of her words, since he probably already knew, and she was being a fool, because his beauty had taken away any ability of hers to talk.

-I figured out- his laugh had been nice and warm, and he had offered her an hand after he had settled down; she was honestly grateful he hadn’t tried to come closer and kiss her, even just on the cheek, she was grateful he had half a knowledge of personal space -… I am also sorry for being late, I swear I don’t do it often… I had a photoshoot which took much more than I thought…-.

A photoshoot?

Was he a model?

He certainly had the look for it, being an ethereal creature with a big range, being able to assume a such a strong range, ruling both genders and all the ones between those.

-… you are a model? – she hadn’t meant to sound skeptical or anything, but she also hadn’t wanted to assume and just sound dumb…

-Yeah- his cheeks had become again flushed and she couldn’t help but want to pinch them gently but she had tightened the grip of her hands on her knees -… I know it’s strange, I still can’t believe it happened… one day you are in your grandma’s house and the following… you are shooting a photoshoot for Gucci-.

Hadn’t she been attracted before, she was now.

He clearly had seemed taken by the entire argument and she couldn’t help but love the shining passion in his eyes, his interest peaking when he mentioned the “Gucci” house, before hiding his face.

-… I am sorry I swear I am not trying to seem arrogant…- he had bitten his bottom lip, ashamed.

-Oh, don’t worry! – she had reached out her hand, pushing it over his shoulder, more to comfort him than actually to try anything, which had gotten her a grateful smile from him -…I actually know nothing about this world, but I also am very curious, so please talk all you want-.

He had become so red that she was sure he would have probably busted a coronary or something, but after a deep breath he had simply smiled and went back to talking about his life as a model and he also explained how he had met Mallory, working on a set for one of his photoshoot, since it wasn’t unusual for him to wear make-up (she had complimented the red eyelids, immediately getting a gentle smile).

“She is one of the best I have ever had: we need more sunshine-made people, on set!” he had giggled, meanwhile she had agreed that Mallory was everything good made as a person “… she said that she had a very cute roommate, meanwhile we were talking and she … said… “.

“I am sad that you in the end got a very annoying roommate” she had replied, meanwhile giggling a bit, just to be greeted with a slow gulp from the other boy who had then mumbled:

“I think that I actually got very lucky, instead, you are lovely” this had made her blush and the sudden silence had been interrupted by the waiter who asked their orders, letting them discuss on what they had chosen, Michael complimenting her drink choice, meanwhile she asked him if what had ordered wouldn’t make him gain weight, getting a wicked smile from Michael, who after a few minutes had started getting more at ease, even asking question on his own.

In the end, the night was nice and she actually had felt very enchanted by the shy model, who had suggested on her not getting an uber but getting a lift from him, so that he could apologize for his lateness; he had also tried to pay for the entire appetizer, getting instead a strict refusal.

“If you want a second date, you better understand that I am a pretty independent lady”.

She might have been wrong, but his eyes had shone interested at her own feistiness.

She had been bewildered at the elegant and sleek sportive car, immediately looking at it for a few good minutes, meanwhile Michael had explained he had paid it with the first money he had had, wanting something that could make him run away from everywhere.

“.. it’s presumptuous”.

“I think she is the prettiest” she  had giggled, entering it with extreme attention, not wanting to damage the pretty thing in the slightest “… you know the night is definitely going amazingly”.

“I thought that when I saw you in the table” again a simple mumble getting her to smile and her cheeks were rushed with blood “… I mean… I was honestly expecting some creepy girl”.

“… same” she had replied, meanwhile she had laughed shyly, the car revving itself up underneath her and she almost had had to restrain a scream of excitement meanwhile they rushed to her home, a soft choice of classical music, mixed with jazz coming from the radio.

“You can change it” Michael had mumbled, eyes on the road, but she could sense the self-conscious note in his voice “… all my friends say that I have the musical tastes of an old man”.

“I don’t mind it” she had sung along, humming softly at the tone, soon Michael was with her and when a few more popular songs came on the radio they belted out, the complicity that had started that night clearly shining and although it was just an appetizer, she was extremely taken by Michael.

She just hoped he felt the same, although they had joked, Michael’s shyness made it difficult for her to understand him and although she had wanted to try to be more proposing, she also hadn’t wanted to disturb the quiet of the poor boy, whereas he had confessed how awful some people made him feel.

“It is all so crazy: people somtimes say that they admire me, and then get into fights “for me”, they insult others because of that... and I mean... it is stupid and terrible to have this kind of power”

So, she had opted for a more posed approach, waiting for him to act, but they had arrived all too soon in front of her house, and she had to invent something to conclude the night happily.

-I had fun, tonight- he had mumbled, looking in front of him, his tell-tale blush reappearing -… I mean… I usually do not got out to these kind of things… it’s been so so long since I have had a date, so… I can understand if this sucked-.

She had been honestly surprised for his love failures: such a pretty face with that enchanting manners shouldn’t be left all alone.

-… it didn’t suck- she had leaned in, again caressing softly his shoulder, again to comfort him and suddenly he came extremely closer to her, enough for a kiss.

But she, instead, had panicked: it was the first time it happened with a boy, she usually was so confident and…

… and she had grabbed his cheeks, indeed the softest she had ever felt.

But she was also extremely aware of how silly the entire thing must have seemed.

Perfect.

She had met a nice guy… and she blew her chances.

Michael just looked at her in the face, definitely confused but then a shy smile had taken over and he had mumbled something about having had indeed fun and then had gone to open the door, as a gentleman, wishing her goodnight.

“Goodnight” she had mumbled back, fidgeting with the cars, then adding “… it was a very nice night”.

“Definitely funny” he had smirked, and waited for her to be inside of her house (she knew he had, because when she had turned around she had found him propped onto the side of the car, waiting for her, clearly wanting to seem disinterested, but he was blushing, a lot…) before running away with his sportive car.

She had been sure it was the last time she would have ever seen him.

He hadn’t tried anything and certainly he hadn’t kissed “goodnight”, which wasn’t a bad thing.

She didn’t mind boys who took their time and didn’t shove their tongues down her throat, but she had halfway hoped that with a cutie like Michael, the spark would fly and although she had known that his shyness would be a bit in the way…

… still she had no sign of his interest, except the “I had fun, tonight”.

Had he “had fun” with her just as a friend? Or as a date?

Both?

Neither?

That’s what she had asked herself the entire day: she had never been this level of head over heels for anyone, but shy, model Michael who was way out of her league…

She thought that fashion was a beautiful industry but not hers: fashionable dresses looked good, on everyone except her.

And the bad thoughts keep on annoying her, mostly because usually she handled well rejection: she moved on quickly, thinking that it was simply not the guy for her.

But this time, it made her feel bad, about herself and her feelings.

Mallory had noticed her struggle that night, when she had come back and immediately had asked info on her date, just to receive her extremely gloomy roommate, who thought that Michael had disliked her in everything:

“We had a nice night… I mean… I did, but I am not sure about Michael… he was…- “she had bitten her tongue, meanwhile she had thrown her head back “… he seemed a bit off… and definitely not interes…”.

But before she could have finished her thought, Mallory had sent her a look which said “please don’t speak bullshit with me”.

-… I literally had Michael fanboying all over me, about how wonderful it was to have a date with you- she had mumbled, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel her heart burst of pure satisfaction.

-Tell me more- she had mumbled, even adding the entire sing-song voice as if she was in “Grease” and Mallory had looked conflicted.

-… I am not sure I am allowed to say more… Michael is my friend…- she had mumbled, just to get (Y/N)’ puppy eyes and after an exasperated sigh -… he says that you were very nice to talk to, he is an introvert so he needs people who don’t feel life-sucking and he said that you were also very respectful, and that he tried to lean in for a kiss but you went to pitch his cheeks, so… he was sure you were the one who didn’t like him…-.

Oh shit…

Shitshitshitshit…

That poor self-conscious boy.

She must have scared him.

Mallory had been a step from spilling more tea, when her phone had buzzled and she had gone to retrieve it from its charging point just to realize it was an unknown number and she was halfway from not answering, sure that it was a call center, but then Mallory had just shouted quickly:

“Answer it! It might be Michael! I gave him your number” which had made her be extremely nervous, sending her an incredulous look: Mallory had taken this matchmaker role too far.

-Hello? – her voice wavering, not giving out too much, since she had been honestly scared of what might happen next… and worst of all that it might have indeed up to be a call-center.

-(Y/N)? – Michael’s voice was low and sweet, clearly shyness again shining in it, but she had known it all too well, although it was a bit distorted -… I am very sorry to bother you-.

-Oh, don’t worry, Michael… you are not disturbing me, in the slightest- she had adopted the immediate charm of her best flirting -… I am actually glad that you called me-.

-… oh…- she had then known that Michael was straight up blushing behind the phone -… well, I am glad that you answered me, and I hope you won’t think this is creepy, I asked your number to Mal-.

The entire phrase had been a continued babble, too fast that she had found it a bit difficult to follow him but it was extremely endearing.

-I don’t mind it, in the slightest- she had smiled, confidently -… I am actually happy she did, so that we can talk a bit more, I enjoyed our conversation, yesterday-

Michael had choked on the other line and after a few minutes of silence, she had felt him try to breath out a deep breath, before blurting out:

-…what about talking more, on a second date? -.

The second date had been lovely and they had been able to know each other in a more intimate way: she had talked about her body-issues, and how she had slowly moved upon the more tomboyish side, baring a part of her soul she hadn’t expected him to get and to even compliment.

“I am an androgynous model” he had mumbled, meanwhile they discussed over it at dinner, this time in an elegant restaurant he had suggested “… so I know that the entire thing about gender roles is stupid”.

He had also told her about his life, before modelling, stretching out on how comfortable he felt with her…

“… these are extremely delicate things…” he had mumbled, as a way of requiring her discretion “… my parents had trouble because of me, I was a very unwanted pregnancy and they both… died, when I was a child, so I was passed onto my grandmother: she wasn’t an amazing person, but it was due to her that I first got into modelling”.

She had shot the photo, which had made him famous, more out of pride, a prize to show to her friends, the one she met at the hair-dresser and the one with whom he she played bridge: she had posted it even on Facebook, with Michael’s help and the following day… a model agency was at his door.

“It was all too sudden” he had commented, meanwhile he had munched onto their appetizer, clearly not as refined in his aspect as with his manners “… but it was worth it; I am away from that horrible place and I have a bright future, for me”.

“That seems honestly lovely, I am glad that you had this all” and she still hadn’t understood why he would even think about going out with her, whereas everything around him was so bright, so charming and fascinating.

And she was just a simple piece.

Not the best one, not the worst one.

He had then proceeded with modelling funny stories, meanwhile she narrated her own ones, laughter  had been leaving her mouth constantly the same from his, although blush never left his cheek, but his confidence had been slowly appearing and this time when he had leant in, after he had accompanied her back, she had kissed him.

Softly and shyly, clearly not wanting to hurt him or scare him away, but he had surprised her being bold enough to ask for a second kiss, and a third one and then she had felt his phone vibrating in his jacket (they had been so close during the kiss) and he had ignored it, a first time, just to lean in for his fourth kiss, his nose bruising against hers.

But at the second vibration, he had had to answer, with a grimace and she hid a little silly smile.

“Give me just a few minutes, please” he had asked, pleading with puppy eyes, and she let him, moving towards her house, blowing him a silly kiss.

They hadn’t met for another two weeks, since Michael’s phone call had been from his agent, John Henry Moore, an ex-model, who had programmed for him a little trip in Asia for a special photoshoot, and then, a little  stay there for a modelling workshop with models from all over the world.

“You literally have no idea how boring it is in there” he always told her, when she was allowed to call her, time-zones always coming in the way “They are all so self-absorbed”.

It was a big joke, because he then told her all about how he had managed to make friends with each of the other models, although some were indeed presumptuous, “something was definitely stuck up there” he laughed, meanwhile she told him, about her “non-model routine”.

“I woke up, went to my job, passed a bit at the gym, did a bit of grocery shopping…” and he listened to her as if she was narrating him some epic adventure, whereas her life was completely the most annoying  “… you seriously never get annoyed by my silly stories?”.

“Maybe I like the sound of your voice, a bit too much” he joked, and it was in that time that his voice and words made her center turn into molten liquid.

But Michael was not only shy, but sexual suggestions or innuendos were ineffective on him.

She could have probably laid naked in front of him and he would have been like “how was your day, lovely? Have you forgotten your clothes?”.

And part of her liked him all the same, and another part… wanted to push him down her bed, half of the time they spent together, because of that innocence.

A month had been enough to declare them “boyfriend and girlfriend”, which had gotten a delighted squeal from Mallory, one of the few who knew about their relationship, since they preferred keeping it private for another bit of time.

And for her it was enough: her sweet and handsome boyfriend who had a real talent for seeing beauty in each thing, even a tomboy like her.

A week, after two months together, he had suggested she joined him as his plus one at a party for the release of a collection of one of his stylist friends:

“I thought it would have been a fun idea for a different night out” he had mumbled, meanwhile he had blushed, probably because she had sat down on his lap, meanwhile they were in his luxurious loft, which he shared with other models, but they went out for the night so it was just the two of them “…if you don’t feel comfortable or anything…”.

“I think that I would enjoy it very much, Michael” she had giggled, staring to lay joking kisses all over his face “… I am just a bit confused on what to wear, I don’t know if I have anything proper for it”.

“What about the pantsuit you wore, when we went out, the last time” she couldn’t help but remember Michael’s face at the elegant pantsuit she had worn at their date in an expensive restaurant, an impulse buy, which had proven worth of its price (which was a lot) after she had seen Michael’s surprised face.

Her shy boyfriend had looked at her as if she was a freaking night goddess.

“I don’t think that it would follow the theme of the night” she had reminded him, hugging him closer, and leaving a few kisses in his exposed collarbone, meanwhile her nose followed the scent of the cologne he used, something which drove her crazy “Isn’t it “rock and fashion” themed?”.

“I am pretty sure that nobody would mind, after they see you in that outfit” he had blushed, hiding softly his face in her hair, meanwhile she had giggled at his silliness, diving in for a kiss on the crown of his hair.

“You are too cute, Michael” she had complimented him, meanwhile he had taken a step back to look at her in the eyes.

“… and you are a goddess, (Y/N)”.

This time it was her who had hidden in his neck, meanwhile he had smirked happily, as if his goal in life was to breakdown her tough exterior.

In the end she had managed to find something which was “fashionably rock and roll”, putting herself in a tight mini-skirt of jeans with fishnets and a leather jacket, which basically showed the least effort into it, not that she actually cared of matching the theme or seeming like the queen of the night, but she didn’t want to shame Michael, who clearly belonged into the world.

She had also allowed Mallory to paint her face, choosing a tough smokey eye with a crazy eyeliner and a dark lipstick, and she thanked God that it was matte, because she didn’t know how to applique it again without making a mess.

It was a bit excessive and Mallory had smudged it to match the grunge aesthetic of her outfit.

She had sent Michael a picture, after the make-up was realized getting back a ton of emojis (mostly fire and hearts), since when words fail, emojis worked perfectly for the model, so she felt a bit confident of her ensemble, although she felt like she was going to a masquerade party instead of a stylist lavish party.

And she couldn’t help but feel even worse, when she saw Michael’s full outfit: he had worn a pant version of what she had, with ripped jeans, showing fishnets under it, a strange cut shit, clearly made so it would seem ripped, but what was even more attractive was the corset over the shirt, which was extremely revolutionary but also it low key gave her a shit ton of ideas…

His make-up was spectacular, red highlighted the tiny speckles of green in his azure eyes, meanwhile the expert contouring highlighted the strong bone structure of his face, his cheekbones basically standing out on their own, with an elegant trace of blush, mixed with expert contouring.

Dark lips were smeared like hers and she low key sent her thanks to God, knowing that if they did make-out they wouldn’t have ruined the effect of the lipstick.

It was definitely the work of an expert, but she guessed that he had done it himself, since he had admitted, expecting her to hate him, that he liked the creative expression of make-up, the way it could change a face and highlight gracefully or destroy flaws, empowering a human.

“It’s a body-art, I honestly love it with all my heart, although it isn’t masculine or…”.

“If you think that I care about anything like that, you probably got me wrong” she had replied, caressing his curly hair “… you could dress up as a clown, and I would still want to kiss you”.

But that time, Michael had honestly outdone himself and she couldn’t help but admire him, beneath the lights of the entrance of the rented place they had chosen for the party.

“Do I have something on my face” he had mumbled, meanwhile she just awed at his face and as he had gone to grab her hand.

“Yeah… it’s a thing called beauty” she had replied, getting a quick laugh from the boy, who had just smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

“I really dig this Billy Hargroove’s girlfriend dress, babe” he had complimented her, with the sarcastic side she had discovered he did own  “… but seriously, I think that I will have to keep you by my side for the entire event, or some model or stylist might steal you away from me”.

She had just blushed, mumbling about being only his, before they had strutted in, her less confidently of Michael, who, if he was even slightly nervous didn’t show it, at ease amongst elegant people in the chicest clothes she had ever seen, the kind you saved on your Pinterest boards.

She had met a lot of people, quickly forgetting a ton of names, but everyone seemed nice enough and they had kept offering her champagne, complimenting her for landing a beauty such as Michael, although she honestly felt like it wasn’t beauty the only thing that brought Michael out and made him special, but she had tried not to fight with Michael’s “friends”.

The stylist Ryan had been actually very nice, and she had been thankful for Michael’s fashion history lessons, so that she could navigate comfortably the conversation, but also Ryan, unlike the others, was actually also interested in her and asked a bit about her.

At a certain time, Michael had left her to give a cheer, something for which he had needed a few kisses of reassurance for, but he had done just fine as she had observed him raising her glass with complicity in her eyes, when he had finished his discourse.

And apparently her smile had done something for him.

He immediately had cornered her in a shadowy place, the boldest move she had firstly seen him do, not that the others had bothered, since they had been all busy taking in the next talker on the stage.

“We should get out, now that I have done my thing” he had suggested, clearly he had also reached its maximum of social energy.

“… what do you suggest, my knight in a shining armor?” she had asked, her hand in his, meanwhile they had moved out of the elegant house, inventing excuses as they met the people that they had talked with at the start of the night.

“There is a little diner not too away from here, it’s cute and it has a wonderful 50s aesthetic that I know you would dig” he had said, and you couldn’t help but feel moved by his sudden confidence: was it the confident outfit or the expressive make-up who brought this side of him out?

She hadn’t been complaining and she had let herself be led, in the diner, which was supposed to be only a few block away, so they hadn’t taken Michael’s car, and this had given them a good excuse to make out clumsily, dizzy on the champagne in the first alley they fhad ound, feeling like horny teenagers, but she hadn’t minded it so much when Michael had kissed her neck like rose petals, his curly hair tickling her face, meanwhile she giggled a bit too loudly.

Right when hands had slipped under the clothes, she had heard coughs and two guys, a bit drunk by the way they held onto each other, and she immediately straightened up, exactly like Michael, who blushed lightly.

She and Michael had moved to get away from the embarrassing situation but the two drunkards had started laughing and used the q-world.

Michael had seemed greatly unaffected, but he had just tried to pass of, but she couldn’t ignore it and had shot those two an hateful glare, but this was ineffective, since the two men just whistled at her but worst of all they said:

“What is a pretty girl like you doing with such a faggot?”.

But it didn’t stop there.

“Maybe she is the one with the dick, you know there are these disgusting people…”.

Michael couldn’t stop her, although he had tried to grab her arm, to stop her and get her to run away as fast as possible from those two, he had deemed dangerous.

“You just insulted my boyfriend, pricks” she had never been one to speak up about anything, but she had always had her own strong opinion, and this constant feeling of having to defend those she loved, like Michael “… I suggest you to say sorry”.

She had tried to keep her tone calm, but it didn’t work so well, since her fists had been shaking on her side, and Michael had tried to call her, saying it was no big deal.

But she had known it was a big deal: it was why Michael cowered in fear when he had to admit his passion for make-up, the fact that he was a model and he struggled to see that she loved him for who he was.

“What if we don’t want to, little freak?”.

Well, she had always known one way to make men listen.

And she had kneeled the nearest bastard straight in the groin, and as one went out, the other went down with him.

“Leave us alone, assholes” and she had turned around, cleaning her hand over her fishnets, meanwhile Michael had had this heated glance on his face, as if she had just stripped naked in front of him.

“I think that the diner might not be the best place after this” his pupils had been full-blown, he clearly had seen something he liked and she had dared just a light glance to his skin-tight jeans, just to discover, there was indeed a bulge in them.

“Mallory is over at her girlfriend’s house” she had suggested and soon they were again in Michael’s car, his hand gently skimming over her thighs.

Sexuality was something that she hadn’t very much explored with Michael, both due to his shyness and both to the fact that they were both taking it slow, but to say she wasn’t suddenly aroused was a lie.

She felt powerful for the effect she had had on Michael when she had fought those two pricks.

The rush onto the stairs almost made her trip onto herself and Michael, a few good laughs coming from their mouths, quickly shushed by their kisses and as soon as they were behind closed doors…

… she finally got her hands on the corset which had been teasing her all night, the idea of it staying during sex made her smirk, meanwhile Michael helped her out of the loose blouse she wore, immediately eyeing her simple bralette: she hadn’t meant to dress sexy, although it was almost part of the aesthetic so…but at least her panties and bra matched.

Michael looked at her, reverently and shyly, as if he was waiting for her to decide what to do, next… as if he was completely in her hands, a sensation which got to her head and to her thighs.

“That corset…” she mumbled, through kisses, Michael did know what he was doing, “… it made me feel things for the entire night”.

“… and that stunt, with those guys…” his eyes were honestly so dark that she almost thought he had contacts on, and he was so hard against her thigh “… I honestly was so scared, but you were so brave, you always are”.

She blushed, the mood dissipating a bit of sexiness in exchange for a softness, shining in her eyes as she guided him gently towards their sofa, straddling his lap.

“I am not, I was scared shitless, and it was definitely the champagne…” she joked, caressing gently his hair, pulling them back, away from his sweaty forehead, before laying a soft kiss on it “… you are the cool one, looking fearless on the catwalk, I would just fall on my face and make fun of myself”.

“You wouldn’t” he still laughed at the image “… but even if you did, you would just get up, as fierce as when you kicked that man in the crotch. Also remind me never to make you angry”.

“Right now I am awfully horny so…” she mumbled, meanwhile grinding against his thigh particularly roughly “… you better do something about it”.

“Not on the couch” he giggled, gently raising her “Mallory wouldn’t be happy”.

She continued with the kissing, the mood settling on a more romantic night, with him releasing her on the bed softly, not missing her little smiles.

And that was when the entire mood of the night shifted.

“You looked like a goddess, with those two assholes” Michael’s voice was breathy and before she knew it he was rutting into her, the hotness of the entire situation letting a silken breath be let out from her lips “… you were definitely the hottest woman I have ever seen”.

She didn’t know where it came from, but she couldn’t help but love that submissive tone in Michael’s hazy eyes, pleading her to do something, anything, and she did it, reversing their position and throwing herself on top of him, clearly in power right now.

This was power: the reverent look in Michael’s eyes, as if she was just sitting on his hipbone as if she was on a throne, her throne.

She tentatively grinded against him, slowly almost a caress against his clothed cock, meanwhile his face scrunched, eyes rolling back and she lowered herself to lick his neck, from his collarbones to the soft skin under his ear.

Moans erupted from Michael’s mouth and she giggled, at the tone, immediately going back to her previous position, smiling wickedly at the effect she had on him, before leaning down to kiss his lips, and whisper:

“Is this ok?” for her to take control on him for that night, drunk on the sheer power of relented dominance, but before she did more she wanted to check with him.

Sex and sexual preferences hadn’t been that discussed between them, so she wasn’t sure if this was something that Michael might even slightly be into, and she didn’t want him to regret this or to be even slightly uncomfortable with her.

“I thought that what I had between my legs was enough to say that I am enjoying this” giggled Michael, with more words she had heard him utter since the two drunkards had interrupted their make-up session “… but yeah it is ok… I actually prefer being… submissive in bed”.

She knew she wasn’t his first partner, Michael had had a previous relationship with a fellow male model (he had told her this when things had started being actually getting deeper between them, mostly because he was scared that she might be “prejudiced” towards him… strangely she wasn’t in the slightest) but she wouldn’t have guessed that he preferred the submissive role.

He was pretty shy, but Michael knew what he was doing constantly, unlike the constant chaos she was.

“Oh” she simply mumbled, before gently grabbing his hand from his side, pushing them up, over his head “… then… I think it’s my time to do something about it…”.

And she reached behind his legs, touching him over the clothes, meanwhile his hips keep rutting in the heel of her hand, meanwhile she giggled with mischief in her smile.

“… if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, say “Gucci”…”.

She had never been the “dominant” of her relationships she hadn’t also very much thought about it, since sex was always some kind of childish thing with her previous partners: it was as if it had its passages and then… it was done… finished, whether you came or not.

Things had never been discussed and, although she tried to be vocal on her likes and her dislikes, most of the time “the man knew better” and she was always halfway through kicking them in the groin the following morning when they offered a second round.

That’s why she wanted Michael to be comfortable.

And also… not to lose that gaze full of admiration for her, although she felt like she might not deserve it.

“Did you…?” Michael laughed straight up in her face, and before she knew it her hand had quit the movement on his clothes and delivered a sound slap to his thigh, getting a pained moan “… that hurt”.

“You disrespected me, baby boy” she didn’t know how she had managed to speak like that, mostly due to her hate for pet-name, but Michael (literally) stood at attention  “… it doesn’t work like that, you do it one more time, and you will not come for the entire night”.

Michael gulped down a big load of saliva and she took a moment to wait for his answer, taking in the beauty of the model: some of the red eyeshadows had been roughly smushed around the lid, and she saw the lipstick mark of the color she had worn that night on his neck.

He still looked like a beauty and she was curious about how beautiful he could get if ruined.

“Yes, mistress” he replied, searching her approval, since her gaze had wandered off him, but he didn’t dare touch her “I will be more respectful”.

She gently caressed his face, collecting a bit of sweat, before she leaned down on a kiss-mark to bite on it gently and leaving a hickey on it.

And meanwhile this happened, she delivered another slap to Michael’s hip, hearing him let out a pained moan which she quieted with a kiss, cooing him in his mouth, meanwhile she gently guided to turn him around.

“Good boy” she started peppering kisses on his shoulder-blades, Michael relaxing again under her touch and didn’t see the sound slap she gave him on his plump ass, which got an howl from the poor boy “… this is for speaking up, in matters you don’t have a say into”.

She then delivered another.

“This is for not being quick in answering me, I expect the best from my boy”.

Another.

“This is for not counting… and believe me you will get one till we reach ten” she waited for Michael frail “three”, checking any discomfort in his voice, but although Michael’s held a painful sting to it, it was hazed and rough due to the excitement he was in “… and then if you are a good boy… I might think about letting things go further…”.

And this got Michael to count, whining for each slap, till ten, meanwhile she adjusted him onto her laps (she couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference, but only inside, outside she needed to try to be stern).

When Michael breathed out the “ten”, she gently helped him to get in a more comfortable position, meanwhile he kind of limped due to the redness and stinginess on his ass, which she caressed in an attempt to comfort him, as she gently cooed him and complimented him on how well he had taken his punishment.

“My beautiful good boy…” she cooed on his lips, gently kissing him with peppering kisses, in an attempt to get his hazy eyes to focus on her, which happened and immediately Michael was on her lap, trying not to crush her, giggling gently.

“Wasn’t I good, mistress?” mischief shined in his eyes, which clearly told her that he knew the answer “… don’t I deserve a reward?”.

She knew that she was being a bit too easy to satisfy him, that she should have made him beg more…

… but he was the cutest with his pouty lips.

And she lowered onto him, her nose skimming his stomach, laying wet kisses on it with carefulness to his gasps and his moans, mapping his skin, from the most sensitive to the least, passing again on the formers in order to blow air on them and leave hickeys on them.

She then reached his pants and brought them down, alongside the fishnets, his bulge appearing from his designer boxers, the length clearly bigger than the ones she was “accustomed” to, and her mouth watered, opening slightly and mouthing over the “Versace” boxers.

Michael shifted and she just needed a glare to make the flinching stop, a nervous glance shone again in Michael’s face, as if he was scared, but that fear brought him even closer to ecstasy she knew it, but the way its body trembled under her fingers, meanwhile she traced patterns on his stomach.

“Don’t ruin your reward, sweetie, wouldn’t want to hold you over the edge, right when you are falling from it”.

And then her mouth engulfed him again, taking more than before, still over the fabric but he lost himself, still he kept himself stiller than before, for which he was rewarded with a tiny peck on the tip of his cock, meanwhile an hand went to fondle him inside the boxers, finally pushing them down.

Her eyes shone at the leaking pre-cum on the tip, at the redness and silky feeling of the entire length which was confirmed by a quick touch, getting a shy moan from Michael: he sounded almost pathetic, but there was some melody in that ruin.

She lowered her mouth on him, meanwhile her eyes met him and soon their gazes were enthralled and linked, and she was unable to watch away as much as him…

… and when her mouth wrapped on him, he closed his eyes, just to be slightly reprimanded with a slap on his thigh, and a silly pinch.

She started with the tip, kitten lick and engulfing it in the warmth of her mouth, and the moved further, trying to take as much as she could and fit the rest in her hands, meanwhile teeth were sheltered under her lips, and hair fell down deliberately around her.

She must have been a truly masterpiece.

But Michael kept on looking at her, as if she was indeed some goddess and she only felt spurred by this to continue her ministration, till she felt him twitch and she backed off from him, a devilish smile on her face.

“… beg me, my sweet boy”.

Michael was clearly taken by surprise and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips, letting him taste pre-cum on them, but retreating to quickly, another way to tease him, as the hands that wasn’t working on him, caressed distractedly his nipples.

“I am not hearing anything, Michael” she taunted him, lightly.

“Please…” it was soft, and low, and she pretended not to hear it “… please, mistress, I need to come…”.

“That was quite cute, but you didn’t seem so desperate…” she considered, even holding an hand under her chin, as if she was thinking about it as the other speed up the rhythm on his cock “… and don’t forget… you have to wait for my permission to cum”.

Michael sniffled, slightly, showing teary eyes and she broke off character thinking that maybe she had gone too far.

“… did I go too far?” any teasing or annoying tone was brought away, and just worry filled her eyes.

Michael also broke away from his role, although tears shone in his eyes, he smiled, shyly.

“I haven’t said Gucci, have I?” he asked, sassily and the ruling part of her wanted to gently slap him across the face, for such disrespect, but then his voice broke off, excitement and haziness showing in her “… I am fine”.

“I was just scared I got a bit taken by this…” she tried, meanwhile he gently “… but now that we both know it’s fine, I suggest you to beg, because if you are not that desperate we can go on, for a little bit… longer”.

Michael’s teary eyes this time didn’t stop her and she just waited, till Michael obnoxiously mumbled a “please” after another, and another and she knew that he was basically on the brink of an orgasm, and although it would have been truly cruel to let him like this, she gave him the nod, which led to the permission…

…which lead him to come roughly and thick creamy cum was soon coating her hand.

He almost passed out, since not only he was breathing heavy enough for her to be sure that even the neighbors heard him, and worst of all his eyes rolled back and for a few moments she was sure that he was out for the tonight.

But then his hand reached out for her, as if he was asking for something to anchor him back after a mind-blowing orgasm, which got her to cradle him closer, his hand on her thighs, gently caressing his hair, meanwhile she waited for him to come back.

And when he did, he smiled softly and shyly, and she did her best to reassure him with gentleness and softness trying her best to make the atmosphere feel comfortable with him.

“I have to admit that I have never… you know… that hard”.

It was almost cute to see Michael like that after he had just acted that loosely with her, but she tried not to bring it up, the poor boy was already burning from embarrassment, she just shushed him,,kissing his forehead.

“Well… it was also my first time, in that kind of dynamic, I hope I wasn’t too rough” she asked, meanwhile she kept on taking slow care of him.

She thought about seriously giving him a bath, mostly because they were both a sticky mess, and the eyeshadows she had loved was smeared also on his nose, which she flickered gently to get his attention.

“… you were amazing” he replied, softly, his tone rough “… I think that nobody did make me feel like this, I honestly felt so secure with you, you always make me feel, like that”.

“Of course, sweetie” she kissed his nose, this time; the compliment went straight up to her mind, she couldn’t help but feel amazed that he felt like that about her, it was an honor, truly “… I love you, and this means that I want every inch of you”.

“People have always made me feel stupid for what I was…I was always too pretty, too stupid, too feminine and nobody ever wanted me for me” he gently reached for one of her hands, to kiss it gently “… not you, you are infinitely patient with me, and don’t mind each of my ‘flaws’…”.

“They are not flaws, Michael” she replied, meanwhile he looked at her up, surprised “… they are what make you, you, and I wouldn’t change anything in the slightest, so don’t even think about a moment that they ‘flaws’ “.

“You make me beyond happy, (Y/N)” he mumbled shyly, kissing again her hand, and laid a soft kiss onto her thighs, and she couldn’t help the shiver that left her body at the sheer contact.

For the entire time she had been focused only on Michael’s pleasure, but she couldn’t hide for much more hers, copious and heavy between her thighs, wetting the inside of them and she was sure that had Michael kissed a bit higher, he would have met her wetness.

She was still wearing her fishnets and panties under them, but her excitement was evident, and Michael couldn’t help but take in, a guilty look on his face.

“I wasn’t a true gentleman… I didn’t let you finish first” he mumbled, shyly and he quickly moved to make himself place between her legs, his intention clear.

“… oh you don’t have to” she giggled, trying to dissipate her embarrassment, closing her legs to stop him “… it was fine, I actually”.

“Oh no you don’t get it” he rapidly broke her fishnets and she couldn’t help but wonder where her gentle boy had gone, mostly when he looked at her like that, with a devilish glint in his eyes “… I want my revenge for before, so sit back, little princess and let me handle it”.

And soon his tongue was between her legs and she couldn’t think about anything more, except begging for more.

… oh, how the table have turned.

Mallory was drinking her coffee, when they finally decided to exit the bed, Michael had insisted for a morning round, just to be remembered halfway through it that he had a meeting in thirty minutes, and she had had to take the reins in her hands.

Well, now they were both satisfied and in need of breakfast, just to be welcomed by Mallory’s knowing glance, and she discovered even more because of the evident hickeys on both of them, and the little bruises she had left on Michael’s hips with the pinching and the slapping.

(Michael still hissed when he sat down on the table, for the spanking of the previous night).

“Shouldn’t you be at Coco’s?” she asked to dissipate the embarrassment.

“I have a meeting in twenty minutes” and then she looked at Michael, after she had taken a sip from her coffee mug “So does Michael”.

The boy, smiled shyly, almost hiding behind her and she wondered where had gone the boy who had eaten her out till tears, last night, rutting his hips in the mattress…

… probably the same place where Mallory’s interest for her own matters went.

“I can give you a lift, if you get me a mug of coffee” suggested Michael and Mallory just smirked, going to the kitchen, leaving them alone, meanwhile Michael gently leaned down for a “goodmorning kiss”.

“… see you tonight, lovely” he giggled, before kissing again his forehead.

“So we are that couple?” she replied, sarcasm coming from each poor of her.

“Sweetie you kicked somebody in the groin for me, of course we are that couple” he exclaimed, kissing her forehead quickly “… love you”.

“Love you, too”.

---

Thank you for reading everything!

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[fic] that’s my wife!!!

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Title: that’s my wife!!!

Summary: 

Detectives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff are rumored to be dating despite being married to different people. Well, at least they got the married part right. Wanda really should’ve asked first.

aka the b99 au no one asked for.

for @scarlettjuicehansson​, thank you for sending this prompt! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you like it! i’m so sorry this took so long ;-;

The detectives’ floor of the 72nd precinct was buzzing with activity as usual. However, instead of getting actual work done, the detectives were merely entertaining themselves with anything but work.

Instead of its usual place in the middle, the desks were pushed to the side to make room for a bucket. A few of the detectives were sitting on their desk chair a good 20 feet away from the bucket, next to a bin full of crumpled paper. The game they settled on for today is fondly called “trash basketball”. The participants were to shoot papers crumpled into a ball into the trash as much as they could in a span of two minutes.

So far, the competition was a tie between Detectives Tony Stark and Scott Lang, who both managed to land 12 into the bucket.

“Now get ready for your minds to be blown,” Detective Sam Wilson challenged, rolling his chair to the spot Tony just moved away from. Tony and Scott moved to the sidelines, smug grins all over their face, as the timer for Sam’s turn to start rang out.

Detective Natasha Romanoff let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, shifting her weight from one leg to another as she stood on the other side of the commotion. She doesn’t mind the fun things they do, she really doesn’t, but their boss will be back soon and they should really get started on work.

She heard a laugh beside her and turned to look at Wanda Maximoff, the secretary of their boss, looking at her. “Don’t give them that look. You know they’ll only make it longer if they notice you’re getting impatient.”

Natasha huffed a breath of air out, letting her lips curl into a smile after. “I just have a feeling that this is going to take them a while.”

She felt someone stand beside her and smiled at Sergeant Maria Hill as she faced the game in front of them. “I can tell them to stop, if you want. Knowing Tony, though, it won’t be pretty," she said with a chuckle.

Natasha and Wanda joined in on the laughter, both shaking their heads as they continue to watch the game. Although things like this are the norm in their precinct, admittedly, it is still very much an inappropriate waste of time. However, they were lucky to have a very understanding boss who lets them get away with this sort of things.

A couple of minutes later, just as Scott was chanting something along the lines of rematch, the elevator dinged and out came Captain James Rhodes and another man next to him. Captain Rhodes, called Rhodey by everyone, stopped and stood behind the bucket and cleared his throat.

“Fun morning?” he asked, his voice serious. His eyes, however, betrayed his tone, as everyone can see the teasing glint and look he threw his officers.

“The best. We’re sorry you missed it,” Tony shot back, winking at him. The two have been friends since joining the force together all those years ago - meeting at the academy.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Rhodey held a hand up. “I have an announcement to make. As you all know, we had to rearrange our staff when Detective Daisy Johnson asked to be moved to another department,” Rhodey nodded at the empty desk. “Her replacement is Detective Steve Rogers, who came from the 88th precinct. Please make him feel welcome and at home,” Rhodey eyed everyone pointedly, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder, indicating for him to say something.

Steve gave everyone a warm smile and stepped forward. “As Captain Rhodes said, my name is Steve Rogers and I’m really excited to be working with all of you from now on. I look forward to getting to know everyone!” He bowed his head slightly as he took a step back again and looked at their captain.

Rhodey just shrugged and dismissed everyone, walking back to his office. Steve followed along for his briefing while everyone cleaned up the floor.

“He’s so hot,” Natasha heard Wanda fawn and watch the girl stare at Steve through the blinds of Rhodey’s office. Wanda looked back at Natasha, who just gave her a shrug.

--

“How’s your day going so far?” Natasha asked as she approached Steve who was eating his lunch in the breakroom.

Steve smiled. “I didn’t get as much work done as I usually should have in the same timespan, but it was actually pretty great.”

Natasha snorted and finished chewing her sandwich before answering. “Stark bothering you?”

Steve shook his head, pondering over the question. “Not bothering, per se. I think he’s just an energetic man. Scott too.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Definitely better than the old guys at the 88th though,” Steve assured her. Natasha chuckled.

“Of course we’re better! I’m surprised the city still haven’t forced half of those guys to retire already,” she joked. A comfortable silence fell upon them as they continued eating their respective food before someone approached them.

“Hi Steve! Welcome to our precinct! I’m Wanda, Rhodey’s secretary,” the girl extended a hand and Steve stood up to shake it. “Oh, what a gentleman,” Wanda gushed, shaking his hand a bit too long before taking a seat next to Natasha, who eyed her weirdly.

Steve sat back down as Wanda did. “Rhodey has told me about you! It’s nice to meet you.”

Wanda chuckled, nodding. “Likewise. So Steve, how are you liking it here so far?”

Having neatly putting his lunch away, Steve leaned back on the chair before answering. “I really like it here. I think this is one of the most fun days I’ve had in the office,” he confessed.

“Really? Nothing much really happened today, though. You should’ve been here when Natasha and Scott arrested a bunch of guys selling fake drugs. The ones who complained were so mad -” she cut herself off, giggling and shaking her head. “You should’ve seen it. It was a complete circus…” she trailed off, a happy glint in her eyes.

Steve chuckled. “Well, I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy my time here a lot,” he teased, winking at Natasha before standing up. “Wanda, I’m sorry to have cut our introductions short, but my break’s over and I have to go.”

Wanda pouted playfully. “Til’ next time I guess.” She smiled and waved at him as he went around the table and out of the break room. Once he was out of sight, Wanda breathed out a sigh and slumped in her chair. “My statement still stands - he’s so hot.”

Natasha laughed in acknowledgement and took another bite of her sandwich, pulling out her phone to look through it.

“Such a shame though, he’s wearing a ring - I think he’s married,” Wanda continued, a dreamy look on her face. Natasha hummed in agreement, used to Wanda’s fawning over the detectives. She almost cried when Sergeant Thor Odinson moved to Special Crimes; her favorite eye candy slash human puppy slash office sweetheart being gone. It seems that she’s moved on to Steve to fill those roles.

--

Two months into the working at the precinct, Steve found his transfer to the 72nd to be superb move. First of all, he gets to be with Natasha for a huge part of their day - and although they’re not really the type of couple who’s into PDA nor are they partners on the job, he enjoys seeing her when they’re both in the office. It also helps that they carpool every morning, though he does miss taking his bike.

The people he works with are also very warm, welcoming, and fun. Tony, Scott, and Sam took it upon themselves to brighten up the precinct everyday. He knows not to mistake their fun nature, though - he’s worked with them as a team, and boy, are those three brilliant detectives! Natasha and Hill’s duo, Steve assumed, is the most productive in the precinct. They’re focused most of the time, and keeps the boys in check. But of course, they let their fun side out once in a while to join in on the fun.

Steve took the morning off to go to the dentist and arrived at the precinct at lunch. He brought Chinese food for Natasha, knowing it’s her favorite. He dropped it off at her desk and she gave him a tired smile, only then glancing at the clock and noticing that it was past 12.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Steve asked, nodding at the pile of papers in front of her.

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair, looking up at him. “Nahhh, I haven’t got the time. I need to finish these to give to Rhodey by the end of the day.”

“Come on, I’ll sit with you while you eat your lunch. Take a small break then just come back for the rest,” he encouraged, holding out a hand. She smiled, rolling her eyes, and took it, walking to the break room. Steve smiled at Tony and Scott who were sitting at their desks and waving at him, briefly glancing at down at Natasha’s hand in his.

Steve sat with her as she ate, neither of them in a rush to go back to work. Sam is still out from his stakeout that started that morning and hasn’t returned yet, so he doubted that he’ll be on a case with his partner gone. “I’ll help you with some of your paperwork, if you want. Sam’s not here yet.”

Natasha thought about it while chewing her food before nodding. “Hill’s supposed to help, but she and Rhodey has been on some meeting the whole morning, I’m not sure what time they’ll be back.”

Steve nodded along and ate some of the shrimp Natasha fed him, listening to her talk about filing the paperwork for a meticulously long case that she and Maria just solved.

“Oh, I didn’t see you guys there,” Wanda’s voice rang out, in a tone that meant that she definitely saw them in the break room. She was standing in front of the vending machine, but looking at them.

“Hi Wanda! Rhodey back yet?” Steve asked nicely, smiling at her as Natasha continued eating her food. Wanda shook her head and looked at her watch.

“He should be back soon, though. Do you need him for anything?” she tilted her head and took a step towards the vending machine, glancing at it while waiting for Steve to answer.

“No, not really. Just wondering,” Steve replied and Wanda hummed, choosing to get M&Ms and paying for it.

“If you do, just let me know!” Wanda smiled sweetly at them before walking out of the room.

Steve and Natasha stayed in the break room while waiting for their partners; neither really in the mood to work just yet. Natasha was feeding Steve shrimp and laughing when he’s moving around, making her chase him, when someone cleared their throat. Steve promptly ate the piece Natasha was hovering over his lips as Natasha cocked an eyebrow at the person at the door.

Maria Hill was standing there with a smirk, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh, you’re back. Give me a second and I’ll be with you; we’ll just clean up here,” Natasha told her, smiling.

“You go ahead, I’ll take care of this,” Steve said. Natasha tilted her head at him, about to protest, when he shook his head. “It’s okay, really. Sam’s not here yet anyway.”

Natasha shot him a grateful look as she stood up and joined Hill, who’s still standing at the doorway, an unreadable look on her face. “What is it?” Natasha whispered as they made their way back to their desks.

Hill just shrugged, looking down at the files on her desk. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone teasing. Natasha rolled her eyes fondly and took a seat at her desk, both of them starting on their work.

--

Steve was loading the precinct’s van with equipment that is needed for his week-long stakeout with Sam. He’s been getting along very well with Sam after working with him for a while now. This stakeout requires that they stay in their hotel room the whole day for a week, and both of them prepared for this with tons of video games and movies since they’re not allowed to bring phones or contact to the outside world unless it’s for an emergency. The criminal they’re tracking down is known as a paranoid, and the last thing they want is to be ambushed after showing up on some kind of radar.

“It’s kind of a bonding experience, really,” Steve told Natasha the night before, which got him a snort in return.

“I bet by the end of the week, you guys will be ready to rip each other’s throats out,” she teased, making Steve roll his eyes.

“I’ll miss you,” Steve said softly after a few minutes of silence as they watch TV. Natasha turned to him, a sad smile on her face, and cuddled close to him until she fell asleep. Steve secretly likes it when she falls asleep on him on the couch because that means he gets to carry her - bridal style - back to their bed.

Steve slammed the doors of the van shut and just stood there, panting. “I’ll miss you too,” he heard Natasha whisper behind him, making him turn around to see her. She was hugging herself with her arms, a small smile playing on her lips.

He stepped closer to her and took her in his arms and felt her wrap her arms around his waist and her falling on his chest. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. This would be the first time either of them would be away on an assignment for this long, and although she hates to admit it, Natasha is feeling a bit anxious about it. The criminals they’re trying to catch has been on their radar for so long but kept managing to escape, making them dangerous.

Natasha hummed and pulled back, standing on her tiptoes to peck Steve’s lips before stepping away. “Just… be careful, okay?”

Steve chuckled and stepped closer to her to kiss her one more time. “Always, babe.” He gave her a wink, making her smile and roll her eyes as she turned around to go inside the precinct, nodding at Sam as they passed by each other.

“What’s up with Romanoff?” Sam asked as he approached Steve.

“She’ll just miss me, is all,” Steve laughed, getting into the driver’s seat as Sam went in the passenger’s side. Sam narrowed his eyes at Steve, who returned his look with confusion.

—

“Psst, Natasha,” a voice called as Natasha was walking to her desk. She frowned, looking around for the source of the voice. Truth be told, she’s tired. Steve has been away for four nights already and she’s been getting more and more restless each night without him. She saw the door to the evidence room to be ajar and decided to check it out.

When she got in front of the door, her arm was yanked in by Wanda, who shut the door immediately once she’s inside.

“What the hell, Wanda!” She whisper-yelled. She loves Wanda, she really does, but she’s just not in the mood for her antics right now. She leaned down on the wall opposite the other girl, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m only telling you this because I love you, so don’t be mad okay?” Wanda said in a low voice. Natasha stared at her, trying to decipher what she’s going to say, before nodding. “I think you should stop seeing Steve.”

Natasha stood up straight, frowning. “Wanda, I’m-”

“He’s married, Nat!” Wanda cut her off, eyes wide. “We don’t know to who, though. Rumor has it that Steve doesn’t bring her here because, well. She’s either ugly or she’s a bitch, maybe both,” Wanda shrugged nonchalantly, chuckling.

Natasha’s mouth fell open. What have they been talking about in the precinct?! And where have they been getting this from? Who in the world started the rumor that Steve’s wife - her - is ugly? And a bitch!

“Wanda,” Natasha said slowly, trying to recover from her shock. “Where did you hear this from?”

Wanda merely shrugged a shoulder. “People talk.” Natasha shot her an unamused look, making her sigh. “Okay, fine! Me and Fury’s secretary downstairs may or may have not looked him up on Facebook and we saw a photo of him with this blonde. It’s old, I think, because he looked younger. But that was his profile photo so we just assumed that he married her or something,” Wanda explained, looking down at her nails to hide the blush that spread on her cheeks.

Natasha pondered that for a minute. Steve doesn’t use Facebook anymore, not since he and Sharon broke up around 7 years ago. Huh. That photo is probably her with him then. Natasha can’t help but to let out a laugh - they really thought Steve is married to Sharon. And that she’s ugly and a bitch! Which aren’t true, of course. Steve and Sharon had a mutual breakup and occasionally, the four of them - with Sharon’s husband - would go to brunch together to catch up.

“And aren’t you married as well? To a cop, right?” Wanda piped up, as if she forgot about that information until that moment. Natasha didn’t answer, thinking about what to do. She could tell Wanda the truth, of course, or she could play with it. She doesn’t really talk about her personal life all that much - her coworkers mainly know about the basics. They know that she’s married - not to who, that she has a house - not where, and that she has a cat - who they probably know more about from the pictures she shows them.

Natasha didn’t really realize that her relationship with Steve is not public. Looking back to the couple of months Steve has transferred here, the two of them didn’t really bother announcing their status to the precinct; they just went on with their normal lives and routine. However , she really is curious as to what lengths her friends are willing to go to stop the two of them from dating. So she decided to play with it.

“Yeah, I am.” she admitted to Wanda, who threw her a disappointed look, shaking her head mildy. Natasha sighed dramatically, “Why did you even think that I’m dating Steve?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Everyone practically saw you two being all lovey-dovey the day he left, you know. Seriously, kissing in the open! What if both of your spouses see you! Tsk-tsk,” Wanda crossed her arms. “And do you really think we don’t notice how you two are always together? You guys aren’t even partners yet you spend a lot of time together here.”

Huh. Natasha didn’t even realize that last part. And she kinda feels bad by playing along - Wanda looks thoroughly distressed with their situation. “But Wanda, I love him,” Natasha confessed, biting her lip. “He just… makes me happy, you know? He completes me.”

Wanda sighed, striding across Natasha to put a hand across her shoulder. “That’s good and all, but I don’t know… maybe talk to him? It’s just, you guys are married to different people. I’ve been cheated on before and I hated that feeling. So please, do something about this, okay?”

Now, Natasha feels really bad. But alas, she’s already in too deep; might as well finish it.

--

Day six of Steve and Sam’s stakeout was surprisingly quiet. They’re both tired and anxious for the 24 hours left to finish so they could go home. So far, there has been no activity on the criminal they have under surveillance, so sadly, it looks like they have to complete the entire 7 days.

Steve sighed, lying on the bed after his shift of watching. Sam, who’s now perched next to the window with the binoculars, glanced at him. “I can’t wait to go home,” Steve groaned into his pillow.

“Mhm, must be nice. Going home to a loving wife and all,” Sam quipped.

“Yeah, I miss Nat,” Steve said with a dreamy look on his face, trying to imagine Nat’s reaction when he comes home tomorrow. Sam frowned at him, walking up from his spot to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him. “Yes?”

“You know, Rogers, I never perceived you as someone who would cheat on your wife. How could you say that! You miss Natasha more than your own wife? Have you really no respect for her at all!?” Sam’s voice was low but he was seething. Steve gets to have someone to welcome him home - his wife - and he should be grateful! All that’s going to welcome Sam is a stack of unopened mail.

Steve opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. After pausing, he sat up straight, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Hold on, hold on. Are you saying that I’m cheating on my wife with Natasha?”

“What’s so funny, you bastard? Of course that’s what I’m saying! Unless you have more side-chicks we don’t know about!” Sam blew up. He’s getting crankier and crankier by the minute.

Steve tried to compose himself. Clearing his throat, he motioned for Sam to sit on the edge of the bed, and he did. “Sam,” he started, “I’m marriedto Natasha. Natasha is my wife.” Steve confessed, saying the words slowly so they could sink in. Sam stared at him, unable to form words.

“No way, she’s married too!” was all Sam could muster up. Steve rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Well, I better hope so because she’s my wife,” Steve teased.

Sam blinked at him. “For real? You’re not shitting me?”

“Sam, when have I lied to you, man? I told you - I don’t lie.”

“Oh, so you just hide the truth, then?” Sam retorted.

Steve thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think we hid the truth, per se. We’re not really big on PDA and obviously, office PDA is inappropriate. I don’t know why we never got around to telling people about us. Natasha’s very private, and even though she loves all of you guys, you’ve never been to our house, right?” Sam shook his head. “Yeah. Now that I think about it, I guess that was one big detail we didn’t get to announce when I transferred. We really just went on with our normal routine and I guess we just didn’t get to telling you guys about it,” Steve smiled.

“You think?” Sam replied, finally smiling. “If that’s the case, then I’m happy for you. You guys are so cute together.”

Steve laughed, patting Sam on the back. “Thanks, Sam. And for the record, I would never cheat on Natasha - god , no, I can’t even think about it - and I never did with my past relationships.” Sam nodded, feeling a whole new kind of respect for Steve - he knows he’s a man of his words and he felt bad for thinking so negatively about him in the first place. Well, can’t blame him - he didn’t know; and those two are so cute, what was he supposed to think about!

Thankfully, a couple hours after their little confrontation, the suspect showed up and a deal was about to go down. From what they learned over the past few days, this is the big transaction they were supposed to stop. They immediately called for backup and proceeded with the bust.

When the rest of the 72nd got there, they went on with the raid and successfully stopped the transaction. They got to confiscate a whole container van full of weapons ranging from guns to small bombs - smuggled by the man they were hunting for.

“Good job you two. Take the day off after this,” Rhodey said, walking past Steve and Sam and squeezing their shoulders. Steve and Sam patted each other on the back and chuckled. The six days and a half were rough - they had tense moments, but after it’s all over, they were good and ready for their day off.

Steve saw Natasha talking to Hill and Wanda, who for some reason, came with them. He walked away from Sam and went towards Natasha, hugging her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her cheek before perching his chin on her shoulder. “I missed you,” he whispered to her ear.

Natasha giggled and tilted her head to the other side so she could peck his lips. “I missed you too,” she replied, threading her hands into his that were resting on her stomach.

The look of shock and confusion on Wanda’s face made their display of PDA so, so worth it. “Natasha, didn’t we already talk about this?” she gasped in horror. Always the drama queen, Wanda.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong with telling my wife that I missed her?”

Wanda stared between the two then at Hill, who’s very calmly watching with a smile on her face. Wanda waved a finger between Steve and Natasha. “You two are… married… to each other?”

“Wait, wait, wait, who’s married to who now?” Scott interrupted, joining the group with Tony and Sam trailing behind.

“Steve and Natasha! They’re married to each other!” Wanda exclaimed.

Tony looked taken aback. “Red’s married to him? I thought you said Steve’s wife looks like a bitch .”

“And ugly,” Scott added, much to Wanda’s chagrin.

“Natasha is neither of those things,” Tony concluded.

Steve straightened up but kept his hold on Natasha. “Who said that?” he asked. Everyone looked at Wanda.

Wanda looked like a doe caught in the headlights. “I swear, I didn’t know you’re married to Nat! I saw a girl on Facebook-”

“Oh, that’s probably Sharon! And hey, she’s nice and pretty! She’s an ex, but we’re cool now. That photo was years ago. I don’t even use Facebook anymore.” Steve chuckled. “Anyway, we’re sorry; we really should have informed you all sooner. We didn’t really think too much about making a big deal out of it. We really try to separate ourselves from each other when it comes to work because we have different systems and routines.”

Wanda slowly nodded. “Wait, but your last names-”

“Legally, my name is Natasha Romanoff-Rogers. I just go by Romanoff to make it easier for everyone.” Natasha answered with a shrug. “And Wanda? I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Wanda pouted for a moment. “It’s okay. It’s my fault that I gossip,” she threw a shy smile. “And I’m happy you guys are together, you’re really cute!”

“Alright, now that that is settled, we have to go back to the precinct. Come on, let’s go,” Hill spoke up after a minute of silence. They laughed and everyone made their way back to their cars.

“You can ride with me, I drove myself here,” Natasha told Steve. He still has his arm around her waist, with Natasha tucked to his side as they were walking.

“Okay, I’d love that,” Steve replied, leaning down to give her a kiss. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the key of the van and threw it to Sam. “You drive.”

Sam caught the keys and made a face. “Aw man. Now that we all know about them, they’re going to be all sweet now and I’m going to be the only single one left.”

Maria bumped Sam’s shoulder with her own. “You’re not the only one,” she whispered suggestively as she made her way to her car with Wanda.