#WHEEL OF WATCHES ALREADY SCREWED ME FOR TWO MONTHS.

[ashitomarisu]

2023 Anime Watch: THE WHEEL HAS DECIDED ON ITS FIRST VICTIM

Welcome back, to the last of what we have of 2022. So, 2023 will play differently as I have decided (for my 30th birthday), to use a picker wheel to choose my fate. For the sake of this wheel, I only picked five rewatches, five new anime titles I have not seen, and one Super Sentai season.

However, I am not releasing the name of the title; leaving it out with a hint or so. Thus, the wheel has spoken and...

FFS, THIS SERIES IS STILL ONGOING TO MY KNOWLEDGE.

Already, this was my own idea, so I have to stick with it.

Now, for the three hints:

Someone very familiar is coming back.

This is a reboot to the 1991 anime title of the same name.

Although I'm not one for the artstyle, if you had to make me choose between this one, its more popular cousin or its long-forgotten cousin from god-knows-how-long-ago, I'd rather give this one a shot.

---------

With that, this will be a two-month ordeal, spilling into Febru-AIRI, which works perfectly since the first hint should immediately make you wonder. Until next week, here's hoping you have a safe holiday season and wonderful new year!

(I might as well pray my ears don't bleed out).

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I have been following you for a long time, actually, you are the first person I followed here and I saw that you have emergency requests. I was wondering if you had time to write one for me. So here's the story, the last few years have been more than a mess for me. I've been pretty methodically screwed for the past 4 years. Because things in my country are very complicated and very rough… I haven't had a single normal school year since the year I was in elementary school. First, it was Corona for a year and a half, then there were a lot of missiles, then there was the whole issue of laws and trials and now there is a war… Of course, in the background, there is a hurricane of political problems and next year the war will probably continue plus there will be many problems with the teacher's strikes… and all this is simply אoo much for me, I'm only in high school… I assume that you probably already know what country I'm from… but please let's put all the politicians aside, please… the things you write helped me get through all of this. So if you can, can you write to me about a reader (female) from One Piece or Demon Slayer who went through a very difficult time and all she wants is a few moments of quiet. Just a month or a year or week without fighting or weird things. just a normal life iven if it only for a littel bit. with a happy ending. Sorry for all the truma damping and thank you very much.

(I hope all this is understandable, English is not my first language and I wrote it in Google Translate)

Hi there! I'm the first person you followed? That... that makes me want to do a happy wiggle, I'm going to go do a quick happy wiggle.......... okay, I'm back from my happy wiggle. Things sound very rough over there, but I actually don't know where you're from. I don't watch or keep up with the news. I know there's the stuff with Palestine, Ukraine, and Trump was found guilty, but that's it. Before any of you get mad at me for not keeping up with the world, please know that I do this for my own well being. If I kept up with the news, it would shoot my anxiety and depression through the roof and I just really don't need that. As much as I care about human life and others, I need to focus on my own health and well-being too. I'm happy that my writing has been helping you get through it all, it's always flattering to know that my writing has helped someone and don't worry about trauma dumping, if it helps, I'm always happy to lend an ear. So this is an Ace fic, so I hope you enjoy it and I hope it makes you feel better. My best wishes on getting through this!

Word Count: 1170

Warnings: Female!Reader, comfort

     Why had things been so chaotic lately? It seemed as if every time you turned around there was some new thing going on, some new problem or some new drama. It might be fine if it were just one thing, if it was just Thatch chasing Ace through the halls for raiding the fridge or just a few attacks or storms hitting the Moby Dick. Who in their right mind attacked the strongest man alive anyway? But it wasn’t just one or two things. Yesterday it had been Marco roping you into helping him get the crew into their yearly physicals. Last week had seen a severe storm that had threatened even the Moby Dick, calling for all hands on deck. The week before that was an attack by an entire fleet of marines. Before that there had been multiple attacks on islands under Whitebeard’s protection. Okay, sure, you weren’t the only one taking care of things. The different commanders all split up, 5 of them taking their respective divisions to check out the islands, with you joining the second division as a temporary ‘doctor’ in case anyone was injured. During the storm, you’d been mostly taking care of things below deck with the other Whitebeard nurses, making sure cabinets were securely tied shut, glass bottles of medicine safely packed away, and anything on wheels kept from rolling everywhere. That wasn’t the point, however. The point was that you were tired of something new and stressful always cropping up!

     Honestly, was it really so much to ask for some peace and quiet? A moment of respite where you could just relax without worrying about the next thing. Okay, sure, you’d had a few days here and there where things hadn’t gone wrong. Nothing bad had happened and life aboard the Moby Dick was quiet, or at least, as quiet as things got on a ship with 1,600 males. However, with how things had been lately, you hadn’t been able to relax once. Always on edge, always expecting the next thing to crop up. How long had it been since things had been quiet on the Moby Dick? How long since you’d had a true moment of rest? Hell, you hadn’t even had time to simply relax with Ace. Just the two of you, laying on the deck, napping under the warm sun; or curled up under a warm blanket, forgotten mugs of hot cocoa having long since gone cold as you slept, leaning against each other. Okay, yes, the two of you were often caught simply napping together, but was that really such a bad thing? It meant things were calm, that you could afford to relax enough to take a nap, that you could sleep. Sleep had been… difficult lately. Tossing and turning as the anxiety of what would happen next ate away at you, waking up in the middle of the night at very little bump and thunk, expecting the worst. Ace had been trying to help as best as he could. Wrapping you up in your favorite blanket, heating himself and the blanket up to the perfect, soothing temperature, lightly humming songs that he didn’t even remember learning, though he’d deny humming if you ever asked about it. Thatch had made you mugs of tea or cocoa, Marco had given you sleeping pills, but none of it helped enough.

     Looking out over the railing, you sighed. There weren’t storm clouds on the horizon, no marine ships for miles, and nobody causing any particular chaos, but you still felt on edge. Feeling a hand on your shoulder nearly made you jump out of your skin, spinning around to find a familiar freckled face smiling at you.

     “Calm down, it’s just me. I came to check on you, you’ve been staring out at the ocean for a while now.” Ace said, standing next to you, leaning with his back against the railing.

     “Oh… Sorry. I guess I’m just on edge is all. There’s… been a lot happening lately and I just can’t seem to relax.” you admitted, sighing as you let your shoulders sag, the tension ebbing away for the moment. Ace nodded in understanding, looking up at the sky.

     “Yeah. It’s been pretty busy lately. I can’t remember the last time we took a nap together. But I mean, it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We kind of signed up for this when we became pirates. Or… well, when you became one of Pops’ nurses. Besides, it’ll be fine, we’ll manage. As long as we’re both alive and together, we’ve got this.” Ace smiled at you as he tried to comfort you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

     “I… I know, I just… I guess I just… I wish it would stop, you know? I don’t need much, just a month, hell I’d settle for a week, of peace and quiet. No attacks, no storms, no running from an angry Thatch, or Pops telling me I can’t fight off marines because I’m ‘not a Whitebeard Pirate’... stupid no women rule. He has nurses, why can’t I be an official Whitebeard pirate?!” you grumbled, resting your arms on the railing and resting your head on your arms.

     “Hey, it’s alright. It’s not all that cool being a Whitebeard pirate anyway. You always have a huge target on your back and you have to listen to Marco whenever he tells you to do something, it’s probably way better that you’re not." Okay, he didn’t actually believe that. He loved being a Whitebeard pirate, but he was trying to make you feel better. “If it makes you feel better, I can take you on a vacation or something. We’ll talk to Pops and we can find a nice, peaceful little island where all we do is nap, eat, and mess around.” you smiled at Ace’s proposition, thinking about it for a moment. It would be nice after everything that had happened. A little vacation on a warm, peaceful island. Somewhere small enough that a marine presence wouldn’t be necessary, lots of trees to nap under, a warm beach with soothing waves, staring up at the stars as you drifted off to a good night's sleep.

     “Yeah… that sounds nice. Once we get the chance, we should talk to the captain.” you said softly, feeling yourself relax ever so slightly, not noticing the huge grin on Ace’s face.

     “No need! Marco’s been harassing me about taking some time off after what happened at Marineford and no one will mind if you’re gone for a little while. Pops has plenty of other nurses. We’ll pack some shit and tell Marco that I’m finally taking that time off. Let’s go!” Ace pushed himself off the railing, holding a hand out to you, making you smile.

     “Yeah, let’s go.” you took the young man’s hand, letting him pull you down the halls of the Moby Dick to pack some things. A little time off, that’s all you needed, all you both needed.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Voicemail (Free Day)

day 31 @youngroyals-events thank you for everything (more coming in a separate post bc i have a lot of thanks to give)

A collection of voicemails left by Wille.

read below or on ao3 (G, 800)

Simon’s phone. March 29th, 2027, 4:29pm.

“Hi baby! I’m on my way home, I’m just about to stop at the store. Did you say we needed more milk? I’ll grab some anyway, I think I have a coupon. Oh my gosh, you’ll never believe what I saw on my lunch break today. I took a walk around the park and there was this little mama duck, and she had a little trail of babies following after her. I nearly cried. I was late getting back to the shop because I stayed to watch them swim around in the pond. And I- Oh, I just remembered I sent you a video of that. Well, I’m telling you again because it bears repeating. One of these days when we move out of the city, we should get a bunch of animals or something. I think I’d make a good farmer. Or would that make us ranchers? Anyway, I’ll see you in a few. I love you!”

Felice’s phone. November 11th, 2029, 7:13am.

“Felice, we have an issue. I’ve been following this recipe you sent so closely but I’ve managed to screw it up. Why do my egg whites look like this? … I just remembered you can’t see them. I’ll text you a picture. They’re all grainy and weird, though. Are you busy right now? This would be so much easier if we could do this on FaceTime or something. I’d owe you big time. I guess call me when you wake up, if you can? Love you. Thanks in advance.”

Linda’s phone. October 20th, 2027, 5:32pm.

“Hi Linda! Simon and I are running a bit late. Someone had to spend an extra thirty minutes fixing his— Hey! I’m trying to explain to your mom why it’s not my fault we’re late! Sorry, Linda. We’ll be there soon, I promise. Simon is being very safe, though, and definitely not taking his hands off the wheel to try to steal my phone. I made some new cookies with a recipe Felice gave me, too. I’m excited for you to try them! You have to actually give me a sincere review this time. I appreciated all your kindness last time, but I want you to be brutally honest about these ones. Okay, we’re about five minutes out. See you soon!”

August’s phone. February 1st, 2034, 9:48pm.

“Hi, August. It’s Wille. I saw a short clip of the ceremony today. Sorry I couldn’t make it. Mamma seems confident in you, and I actually think you’ll do a good job. I’m not calling you ‘Your Royal Highness’, though… I wish you the best. Bye.”

Sara's phone. July 15th, 2025, 3:06pm.

“Okay, I grabbed what you said. I think— Oh, sorry. Hi. It’s Wille. You know that. Listen, I am worried he’s getting suspicious. I’m bad at keeping secrets from him, you know this. I still think no one should’ve told me and this party could’ve been a surprise for both of us. Sorry, rambling. I think I managed to find everything on the list. They only had two packs of purple balloons left, so hopefully 50 is enough. Oh! The cake looks awesome, too. Felice did a great job. He’s going to love it. Okay, I gotta go, he’s coming. See you— Hi Simon! … No, just a scam call. How—”

Kristina’s phone. September 5th, 2032, 6:11pm.

“Hi Mamma. I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. Things have been really busy over here. The movers showed up on time, thankfully, and everything went smoothly. We managed to get a lot unpacked already. Simon and I just had our first official dinner at our new kitchen table! Let me know when you and Pappa want to come visit. I’d say give us a few weeks to at least get the majority of the boxes cleared out. You’re going to love the view of the lake. It’s so beautiful, Mamma… I’m really happy here. Okay. Call me when you can… I love you. Say hi to Pappa.”

Erik’s phone. June 1st, 2026, 1:52am.

“Hi Erik. It’s your brother. Wille. Um… I graduated today. I didn’t end up finishing at Hillerska. It got shut down. You may actually know a little bit about why. I don’t want to talk about that… The past few years have been really tough, Erik. There are a lot more good days than bad ones now, but it still hurts every day. I miss you a lot. I hope you’ve forgiven me for stepping down from the throne. I think you have. You knew I never wanted it. I’m starting at uni in the fall, and Simon and I are going to live together. I’m really excited, actually. Normal life, and all that. Maybe I’ll even get a job. Imagine that. Former Crown-Prince working as a barista. Um, okay. I should probably get back to sleep. I’ll call again soon. I love you, big brother… Bye.”

[ericsonclan]

Jingle All The Way

Summary: Sophie and Marlon work to find the perfect Christmas toys for their kids.

Word Count: 1472

Read on AO3:

Sophie and Marlon weren’t sure how this had happened. They had been so caught up in all the holiday activities, festivities, and chaotic stress that came with it that they had forgotten something huge. They had forgotten to get the one toy that their two kids had been practically begging them for for months leading up to Christmas: the holiday edition Captain Commando action figure with built-in water jets in the toy’s wrists.

“We’re so screwed,” Marlon rested his head on the steering wheel while his wife sat in the seat beside him frantically scrolling through different stores' online catalogs.

“Maybe ooorrrrr this will just make it a special Christmas adventure!” Sophie spotted the annoyed look on her husband’s face. “Babe, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll both go searching all of today. You already called Louis, I called Vi and they both said they’d help us. Minnie and Ren are looking after Raylan and Marley who were practically bouncing off the walls to spend time with them and Timothy. It’s gonna be okay,” Sophie gently rubbed Malon’s back. The sensation helped anchor him in that moment, pulling him away from the anxiety and potential dread he was feeling.

With a shaky breath he lifted up his head and gave a smile. “You’re right. Okay, let’s find those toys!”

“Hell yeah!” Sophie stole a quick kiss then opened the car door and jumped outside.

“First one to find the action figures gets bragging rights!” Sophie called out then was off like a shot, haphazardly trying not to slip on the icy road as she made her way over to Violet who was waiting nearby.

“Be careful!”

“Yep!” Sophie gave another wave and then was off on her quest for the fabled Christmas toy. Marlon watched her in the car window for a minute then turned the key in the ignition and pulled out onto the street. He still had to pick up Louis before he could start the hunt.

“I’m still surprised that you and Sophie didn’t get the action figures like a month ago,” Louis caught Marlon’s annoyed glance. “What? All I’m saying is that I got toys for Maisy, Lee Kenny and Juliet in November and that was just the extra gifts.”

“You know what, Lou, if you’re gonna be sassy like that then I can go on my own.”

“No! Come on, Marlon, don’t be like that. Besides I have good intel that those special action figures are still available for sale at the Target right by Crawford Ave.”

Marlon felt a smile pull on his lips at that. He switched lanes to be able to turn on the right street as they approached their destination. He was gonna make Raylan and Marley’s Christmas perfect and beat Sophie at this Christmas toy hunt! He knew he would because he’d do anything to get those toys.

There were no Captain Commando limited Christmas edition action figures there. Instead, Marlon was staring at a completely barren toy aisle.

“Oh damn, well I guess this is why you shop early.” Louis gave an awkward grin when he saw his best friend’s scowl. “Okay, okay, let’s not worry. We’ll go get some hot cocoa then continue to look. This is just the first store after all.”

Marlon took a deep breath and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just really fucking stressed and I don’t wanna seem like a bad dad because I couldn’t get Raylan or Marley what they wanted for Christmas.” He kept walking until he felt Louis’ hand grab his shoulder.

“Hey, they’re not gonna think that. You’re a great dad.”

Marlon still seemed down in the dumps but he cracked a smile. “Thanks, Lou.”

“No problem, buddy. Alright! To hot chocolate and then the perfect Christmas present!”

“So let me get this straight-”

“I don’t know, can you get it straight if you’re gay?” Sophie sent over a teasing smile to Violet who already looked tired of her best friend’s mediocre jokes. “Okay sorry, continue.”

“You didn’t get some action figures for Raylan and Marley so now you’re trying to find them just four days before Christmas?”

“Yep, that’s pretty much it,”

Violet sighed and shook her head. “You and Marlon are unbelievable.”

“Hey! We got all the other Christmas shopping done! What about you? I bet you haven’t gotten everything you need for Allison and your grandkids.”

“Prish and I got everything weeks ago. A new knife for Allison’s collection, some stones we found during our trip, superhero toys and marshmallow guns for Mitchie and Griffin and cute baby clothes for Wren. Plus a bunch of stuff we found for super cheap and bought on a whim for them too,”

Sophie was speechless. Her attempt to throw it back at Violet had failed. “Okay well, yeah. Whatever, I love my kids!”

“I never said you didn’t,” Violet grumbled, her back hunched and hands stuffed in her pockets. Sophie didn’t seem to pick up on that though and instead was laser focused on finding the action figures.

But it amounted to nothing. No matter what stores they went to, all the action figures of that kind were sold out. Even after a call to check in on the kids where Raylan and Marley went on and on and on about how much fun they were having building snow castles, Sophie’s mood didn’t brighten.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Just take a few deep breaths,” Violet instructed; Sophie listened to the best of her ability. “Feel any better?”

“Nope, I still feel like a bad mom. Okay! Back to hunting! I know that luck is gonna be on my side!” Sophie dashed off before Violet could say anything. With a long sigh she chased after Sophie. She could almost never catch up to her best friend when she was going full speed. Finally Sophie sat down near an escalator, her chest heaving. Violet stood beside her, doubled over in exhaustion.

“Let’s call it a day. You tried your best.”

“No! I’m not giving up yet! There has to be some kind of way to-” Sophie was interrupted when an announcement was made over the loudspeaker.

“It’s time to spread that holiday cheer and what better way than with a chance to win two Captain Commando action figures! Come to the center of the mall if you want a chance to bring home something special for your kids!”

“That’s it! Let’s go!” Sophie grabbed Violet’s hand and dragged her along until they reached the center of the mall where the rules were already being shared.

“...And so if you have the right number on your raffle ball, then you win!”

Sophie grinned. It seemed easy enough. She just needed luck. She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet as she reached into the Santa bag. Violet soon followed suit and the two waited until the numbers were called.

“Number twenty seven.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. Holy shit! She had it! Her excitement made her feel all jittery and she threw her arm up in the air to show off her winning number when suddenly she bumped into someone, causing the raffle ball to bounce on the ground.

“Shit!” Sophie dashed after the ping pong ball, running back and forth down the escalator to try and grab it as it fell but it was too quick. The ball kept bouncing and bouncing until it landed in a kids’ play pit.

“What the hell are you doing!’ Violet called out as she watched Sophie dive head first into the ball pit.

“Winning!” Sophie declared. She kept searching until finally she found it. Using all the strength of her lungs, she shouted, “I have the winning number!!!” She rushed back up and pushed her through the crowd, apologizing until she got to the front.

When she arrived she accepted the toy with an exhilarated grin and stared at it as though she was holding priceless treasure. She was so caught up in the moment. “This is great! Now all we need is for your number to win! Show me your ball, Vi!” Violet rolled her eyes at the wording then grumbled as she held up the lottery ball. Both of them waited with tense breaths.

“Number forty eight.”

Immediately Sophie’s optimism deflated. It wasn’t the right number.

“That’s my number!”

Moments later Marlon moved forward before he spotted Sophie and paused in shock. “Sophie?”

“Marlon?”

“What are you doing here?” The married couple asked at the same time.

“I’m winning an action figure,” Marlon explained as he accepted the prize. A happy laugh left Sophie’s lips at that and he looked over with slight confusion. “What?”

“Guess we didn’t screw up Christmas after all,” She held up her action figure and both of them shared a happy smile. Maybe they were pretty awesome parents after all.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 12

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

***

Faith

12 Months earlier

I stood with my hands jammed into my pocket, Olivia putting her hand on my shoulder and Zeke glaring at Calloway across the stage. I made eye contact with Calloway briefly while he mugged for the camera, Marty keeping him busy as he talked about how he’d ‘annihilated us.’

“-But yeah, that’s why I’m gonna win the championship this year,” Calloway said with a smug grin plastered to his stupid face. 

“You are definitely becoming a favored underdog, but so are your opponents,” Marty pointed out. “Aren’t you worried about Team Dai Gurren coming back with a vengeance?”

“No, I think one-shotting them tonight was a good indicator of the quality-gap between us,” Calloway said. 

I grinded my teeth together as the microphone was brought over to us. Olivia, bless her, took point for the interview.  “So, what happened tonight?” Marty asked. 

“Calloway definitely took us by surprise- we had no idea Polyphemus was that fast, or that it could hit that hard,” Olivia said diplomatically.

“And what about your own performance?”

“I mean it wasn’t much of a performance, was it?” Olivia said with an awkward laugh. “We didn’t get out the gate fast enough, and Calloway got a lucky shot in-”

“Cheap shot,” I said under my breath. Calloway had sprinted right for us the instant the fight started, faster than any of us were prepared for. Olivia started to swerve out of the way, but that just meant Polyphemus’ ax caught us on our right wheel axis and severed the tires clean off. Along with our break wires. We wound up careening directly into the screws, not able to stop while we got caught under it and then got counted out. 

“A lucky shot,” Olivia insisted. 

I spaced out the rest of the interview, stewing in frustration as my ill-fitting clothes swung around the body I hated. The team and I hauled our amputee victim of a bot back into the pits, where, surprise surprise, we found Calloway humming and working on his machine. 

“Hi,” he chirped. “Great fight, guys!”

“You already won, there’s no need to be passive-aggressive,” I snarled. 

“I’m not being passive-aggressive, I just had a good time,” Calloway said, furrowing his brow. He stepped forward, away from his work station and towards ours. 

Olivia stood behind me, already zoning into work. I wanted to as well, but I couldn’t get my mind off of this Calloway being a raging tool one minute and a happy little himbo the next. 

Zeke put himself between Calloway and I, grabbed Calloway by the shoulders and stared directly at him. “Dude. You’re giving off real mixed signals. Dial it back. And give us all some space. Please.”

Calloway… Blinked. Then he looked away, down at his shoes. I cocked (heh. Cock) my head in confusion while I watched the scene play out. 

“Okay,” Calloway said in a soft, quiet voice. 

“Good,” Zeke said, letting go of his shoulders and turning around. 

I watched Calloway stand there another moment. He seemed to refuse to make eye contact with me, and finally, after a moment, he turned around and went to work on his machine. 

Finally, I did the same.  

Always last to act. 

***

Now

I slid back against the surface of the wall and sobbed. I’d read the signs, because they were loud and clear even to me, so I made myself leave. I hiked around to the back parking lot and just… Just… 

I didn’t even make it back to my car before I started crying. 

He liked her. And she clearly liked him. Why the hell wouldn’t she? I certainly couldn’t blame her. The only one I could blame was myself for waiting too long. 

I thought back to the night Calloway… Kate gave us our first defeat. I still got mad about that fight sometimes, still got annoyed at myself for losing to cheap shot like that, still got annoyed at Olivia for not moving fast enough. But that wasn’t the point; the point was that… When Zeke had put himself between me and Kate, when my own girlfriend wouldn’t do the same… That was the moment I started becoming attracted to him. And looking back on it… It was probably the same for Kate.

I always waited too long. I could have come out in high school or college, transitioned younger. I could have been competing in robotics younger too. 

I could have told Zeke how I felt about him any time in the past year.

So why the hell hadn’t I? Because I wanted him to do everything for me? 

I buried my face in my hands and wept, feeling my makeup running off my visage while the warm night air of late June grew colder around me. 

“You okay?” 

I yanked my hands away from my face and looked up, where, to my horror, Olivia stood. “Do I look okay?” I said bitterly. 

“No, you look like you’re in an absolute state,” Olivia said. 

“Still not one to mince words, I see,” I said. 

“It’s part of my charm,” Olivia said. 

“Yeah. Sure it is.”

“Ouch,” Olivia winced. 

“... Sorry, I just…”

“May I sit?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” I said. 

She sat next to me on the grass pressing against the outer wall of the building. “So, are you just broken up about losing tonight, or is this about me-”

“No, to both,” I said. 

“Is it Zeke?” Olivia asked. 

“...”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Olivia said. 

“What does?” I asked, dreading the answer. 

“You like him,” Olivia said. 

“... Am I that obvious?” I said, my chest deflating. 

“No, actually you’re not,” Olivia said. “It was just something I picked up on from the way you two have been interacting this year. Plus, you gush about him on instagram sometimes, posting pictures of the two of you together… I kinda just figured you were already dating, to be honest.”

“We’re… Definitely not,” I said. “There’s… There’s someone else. A girl named Kate. And Zeke has been spending all his time with her lately. They’re spending time together right now, actually. Getting real close and cuddled up. I made a retreat because I… Didn’t wanna be a third wheel.”

“That’s… Honestly shocking to hear,” Olivia said. 

“What, that I actually had the social intuition to make myself scarce?”

“No. Well, yes. But also, that he’s interested in someone else.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. Zeke followed you around like a lovesick puppy even when he thought you were a boy. You asked him to join our team and he said yes without even having to think about it. He was instantly supportive when you came out- which is certainly more than I can say. Plus… He’s incredibly protective of you, dresses up and dances with you when you two win fights… That’s all a lot for someone who just sees you as a friend.”

I blinked rapidly, a million interactions taking on a new context as the final proverbial horse crossed the finish line. “Dammit.”

“The question, though, is- does he know you like him?”

“I… I mean I’ve never told him directly-”

“Then he doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know- if it’s so obvious-”

“Because- and I feel like you already know this, but I’ll just give you a reminder- most guys who were, ya know, raised by parents, constantly get the message drilled into them that just because a girl hangs out with them doesn’t mean she’s into them romantically. And Zeke’s parents, if you recall… Well they tend to assume the worst. Always.”

“God, they really do,” I said, clenching my jaw and speaking through my teeth. 

“So, if you haven’t told him, and he hasn’t done anything that would indicate he knows… He probably just assumes you only see him as a friend. I mean, hell- does he even know you’re into guys?”

“...”

“Have you ever been watching a movie or a show together and been like ‘wow that guy is super hot?’ Just to, like, get the information out there that you’re into fellas?” Olivia asked. 

I said, “No, because he has low self-esteem and I don’t want him to feel insecure and oh goddammit he has literally no idea. The possibility that I like him back has probably never even occurred to him.”

“And this Kate girl, I’m guessing she’s a bit more on the direct side?”

“I think so, yeah,” I said, bunching my legs together and squeezing them against my chest. “She was the one who asked him out earlier this week, and she’s the one who started cuddling up to him a few minutes ago… Dammit. I just… I kept waiting for him to make the first move because it sounded so… Nice! Being the one who gets courted for once-”

“‘Courted’ wow, you really are old fashioned, aren’t you?”

“Apparently, yeah,” I said. “It just seemed… Affirming.”

“Fair enough. But you gotta admit, with Zeke specifically… That probably wasn’t the best course of action.”

I nodded. “What should I do?”

“Are you seriously asking me of all people for advice about your boy problems?” 

“... I see your point.”

“That being said, I do wanna make things up to you, given how awful I was,” Olivia said, cracking her knuckles. “Way I see it, you got two options: option one- tell Zeke how you feel, and put the ball in his court. He and this Kate girl have only started getting close to each other in the past week, that means it’s all still new enough that there’s no guarantee it will last. If you’re lucky, he sees the whole situation as a case of the girl he’s actually loved the whole time finally telling him you can be together, and he breaks it off with the girl who’s, yeah sure, new and exciting and forward, but whom he doesn’t have as strong a connection to.”

“And if I’m not lucky?” I asked. 

“Oh, he decides that you waited too long to tell him, that it’s not cool to wait until he’s found someone else to spring this on him. It’ll probably make things horrifically awkward between you two, which is, uh, not great in the middle of tournament season.”

I sighed and looked up, trying to peer through the smog and light pollution blocking out the stars. “What’s option two?”

“Do nothing,” Olivia said, standing up and facing me. “Say nothing. Keep all of this to yourself. Swallow your feelings till they go away on their own. It’ll take a while, and it will hurt, but… If you really care about him, you’ll want him to be happy on his own terms. Even if it’s with someone who’s not you. Be honest with me- are you okay with that?”

“... I wanna say yes. I really wanna say yes,” I said, my guilt and shame a dumpster fire burning inside my chest and releasing noxious fumes.  

“You need to do better than that,” Olivia said. “If you’re not sure, then you’re gonna drive yourself crazy by not telling him. Especially if she’s not a good fit for him. Do you think she is?”

“I… Also wanna say yes to that, but to be honest, me and this girl don’t have a great history. We’ve been patching things up lately but… Not a great precedent.”

“That certainly complicates things,” Olivia said. She offered me a hand up, and I took it. “But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

“Just doing what needs to be done,” Olivia said with a smile. “I should probably get back to my team, finish up repairs for the night. You take care of yourself- and let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on about all this!” 

“Will do!”

And with that, I watched her walk away from me again, but this time… I was okay with how we left things. 

I sat there a few more minutes, then wiped off my messy makeup and looped back around to the Calloway clan and the man I pined for. Kate had changed clothes- I assumed her mom had brought a dress for her and that was what she’d gone to get. She and Zeke were standing next to each other with very little spacing separating them, but at least they weren’t cuddling anymore. 

Kate leaped towards me and said, “Faith!”

“Hey,” I said, “You’re in a better mood.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, radiating a palpable warmth and giddiness, her eyes shimmering in the light of the streetlamp above. “Can I hug you?”

“Uh… Sure?” I said, wishing to God I’d said no. 

She wrapped her arms around me and giggled. “I’m trans, Faith. I’m trans!”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that,” I said. She wasn’t letting go of me, but her hug was… Not unpleasant. Her happiness was almost infectious. “Good for you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“... Depends on what it is.” Please don’t say ‘advice about Zeke’, I am begging you to say literally anything else-

“Can you help me with my voice?”

“Oh, uh… Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Eeeee! Thank you thank you thank you so so so much!” she said, exuberance pouring through her and into me. She pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eyes, smiling wider than I’d ever thought possible, a smile that wasn’t a sneer or a smug grin or one that was in any way, shape, or form punchable. She was just… Happy, and pure. She was… Adorable, honestly. 

Her face was very close to mine- I don’t think she even realized it, given how bad she’d always been about personal space. But I had to admit it, she was cute, and the look Zeke was giving her told me he was thinking the same thing. 

Dammit.

[bird-of-eternia]

Sylvia (pt 3) Fight

(Rose recalls the fight.)

Story based on Sylvias Mother: Dr Hook

In a parking lot six blocks away Rose gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

In two hours she would be on a bus to California. Her bags had been packed, a place arranged for her to sleep at. She was expected. She couldn't stay and try to convince that cow to let her talk to Sylvia anymore. It had been two weeks already. She had tried catching Sylvia alone but someone was always there, watching. It wouldn't have been a big deal if the town hadn't already suspected something was going on.

Sylvia was a good girl. Never getting into trouble but Rose....people talked about Rose like she was an outsider. Something to gawk at. She was 20 years old and living on her own in her parents old house. Never went to church and wore the same clothes the boys wore. She was caught smoking and even drinking, sitting with her legs thrown every which way, swearing, never with a nice boy. Rumors she was doing black magic or worse, kissing other girls. When Sylvia had been caught more than once talking to Rose it had blemished the Avery Family name. Rose was nothing they couldn't buff out with marriage to the preachers son.

She was a pariah.

Rose's parents had been dead since she was 15. She thought the towns people would have helped but no. No, she wasn't worth the trouble she guessed. Once she had spotted some older ladies watching her at the coffee shop. When she passed by them she heard them whispering.

"-good thing too...if they saw what their daughter had turned into..."

The radio switched to another song.

~But she was too young to fall in love and I was too young to know. So why did I give my heart so fast? It never will happen again~

Rose felt her blood buzzing through her body, her heart too fast. She slammed her fist against the console turning off the music.

This was all her fault. Her and that damn church.

She knew Sylvia wouldn't do it but part of her had hoped she would. They would have lived together and Rose could have kissed her whenever she pleased. No hiding behind diners or in dark cars. California would have been different.

But Sylvie would be a good wife to some man. Probably Freddie. Give him some fair haired kids that grew up with the most loving and kind mother. they would be lucky.

Rose felt like a statue. Like her bones had turned to stone. She couldn't move. Didn't know what to do.

Tears spilled over her cheeks. For a moment she was reminded of the pictures of crying angels in cemeteries and of the argument.

" No Rose. I can't! I've told you....I..."

"Think of it Sylvie. You and me together. Really together!"

Sylvie had ripped her hands away tears forming.

"What would people think? It's a sin Rose! I'm...I'm not like you! I'm not a dyke!...I can't be."

The words had slapped Rose across the face. Hadn't they just made love an hour ago? Hadn't they held each other while their hearts soared? Hadn't Sylvie been happy the last six months? What did all of this even mean to her then? It meant the world to Rose. Sylvia was about to speak when Rose cut her off.

"Rose..."

"Fine. Go back to you miserable life."

Sylvie had tensed, her face twisted in regret but Rose couldn't stop.

"I know who and WHAT I am. Do you know what you are Sylvia Avery? You're a liar. You're lying to me right now and you'll lie to yourself tomorrow when you say you love Freddie. You'll be lying when his father reads the vows. Lying when you think of me and when you look in the mirror....lying when he screws you..." Rose remembered the taste of bile in her mouth at the thought. Sylvia's horrified face. "Go...just go. Your mother will be happy.... Gods watching Sylvia."

And just like that Rose had left Sylvia at the back door of the cream colored house. Rose knew why Sylvia had acted out. She knew it was scary and felt like you were looking over a dark chasm about to fall in...

She knew how conflicted Sylvia had been with her feelings and her upbringing...but still.

Her body returned to itself. She wiped her eyes and started towards the bus station.

If a normal life with Freddie and her parents was what Sylvia wanted that's what she would get.

If she wanted Rose she knew where to find her. She had two hours.

[augustinewrites]

[13:25] miya osamu sobbing bcs @ufo-ikawa made me listen to free love by honne & i automatically thought of samu

“tsum’s always third-wheeling us, but where is he when we need him?” you huff, using the collar of osamu’s worn t-shirt to wipe away the sweat on your forehead. “this would go a lot faster if he were here.”

it’s the middle of summer, it’s way too hot, and the air conditioning in osamu’s newly purchased storefront is still broken. yet here the both of you are anyway, painting walls in the muggy afternoon heat of downtown osaka.

osamu makes a sound of agreement just as his phone buzzes in his pocket, wiping his hand on his paint-streaked shirt before grabbing it and glancing down at the screen. “oh, this is the scrub now saying…he’s at some resort in tokyo with his girl.”

“wait, the one he met last month?” you ask, dropping the paint roller into its tray when he hands you the phone, a selfie of his brother lounging on a pool chair on the screen. “wow, a month into the relationship and he’s already whisking her off to a resort? lucky girl.”

osamu’s got an odd look on his face as you hand the phone back. “he, uh, said he’d be back on tuesday to help us move the furniture in, though.”

“that’s good,” you shrug, picking up your roller and resuming your neat strokes of light grey paint. “i already know he’s gonna be eating here all the time, so we need to make sure he pulls his weight before opening.”

he hums in acknowledgement, resuming his painting beside you. when you look over, he’s got a comtemplative look on his face, brows pulled down and mouth pressed into a tight line.

“let’s take a water break,” you propose when you can tell he’s pulled a little too far into his head by…by something. in the five years you’ve dated him, you know that osamu’s like this. sometimes his thoughts are a little too loud, and whatever they are right now are screaming at him, drowning out reason.

he hears you, though, dropping his roller into the tray before taking a seat in the middle of the tarp-covered floor (flooring the both of you had installed yourselves with the help of a youtube tutorial). you reach into the cooler, grabbing two bottles of water before lowering yourself to the ground next to him, handing him a bottle of water before uncapping your own.

“i’d understand, you know,” he murmurs quietly once you’re settled.

you watch him out of the corner of your eye, noting the way his restless hands pick at the label on the bottle. he’s nervous. “understand what?

he’s not looking at you, staring straight ahead. “if ya wanted to leave.”

you chuckle, taking a gulp before screwing the cap back on, pressing the cool bottle to your cheek. “i’m not gonna leave before we’re done painting the edges. i’ll stay all night if i have to.”

“not the walls,” he says a little stiffly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i meant— i meant me. if ya wanted to leave me, i would…i would understand.”

you blink a few times, wondering if the heat was making you hallucinate or something. “osamu, why would i do that?”

“it’s just, you deserve more than— than this,” he gestured around at his half-assembled store. “i don’t have much. you know i poured a good chunk of my savings into leasing this place. i can’t take you to nice dinners on our anniversary or buy you pretty things, and now i’ve got you doin’ manual labour on your day off. you deserve better.”

“better?” you repeat, wondering if he’s hallucinating.

osamu shrugs, then lets his steady shoulders slump. “you…you deserve someone who can take you to tokyo.”

“but i don’t want to go to tokyo. it’s too—”

“crowded, i know,” he finishes, hesitantly meeting your gaze. “but you know what i mean.”

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly. “because you’re not making any sense right now. should i call an ambulance? is this heat stroke?”

he says your name exasperatedly. “i’m serious. you’ve got no obligation—”

“do you love me?” you interrupt.

“of course i do,” he answers without hesitation, and you can hear it, the desperate edge in his voice, the little part of him that says he doesn’t want to let you go.

satisfied, you uncap your water and take another drink. “then that’s that.”

he frowns a little. “but—”

you raise your brows at him. “unless you want me to date your brother?”

“what? no.”

“exactly.” you shuffle over to cup his face in your palms, the tip of your nose brushing his as he leans into your touch and you murmur, “i don’t need anything or anyone else.”

no one but osamu, who can’t take you to nice dinners but spent hours in the kitchen cooking up your favourite dishes on your anniversary last month. who seasoned everything to your liking and somehow made it compliment the cheapest bottle of wine you could find.

osamu, who can’t buy you nice things, but shows you everyday, in his own way, just how much he appreciates and loves you. who packs you a lunch every night and walks you to the train station each morning. who always lets you have the last slice or bite of anything, and holds your opinion on new dishes in the highest regard.

osamu, who is willing to let you go because he thinks you deserve better. you don’t doubt he’ll give it all to you someday, when he can. but for now?

for now you’ll kiss his sweaty forehead in his half-built onigiri shop, the both of you streaked with paint and melting in the summer heat. but none of it matters because, well,

“all i need is you.”

[huihuiheart]

Limit Break - Wonwoo

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Seventeen Masterlist

Pairing: Wonwoo x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Summary: Part 2 of Limitless - Your relationship with Wonwoo has gotten more complicated since that fateful night, and you’re not sure how long your heart can take this for.

Warnings: Friends with benefits, mutual pining, things get muddied, cursing, emotional sex, crying during sex, dom/sub themes, both sides of dom Wonwoo, alcohol, drinking, bars, oral (f! recieving), protected sex.

Word Count: 2,137

Panting you watch with hooded eyes licking your lips, “Can’t you just fuck me now...or are you afraid you’ll cum before you can get two out of me?”

Wonwoo chuckles a little knowing your teasing is playful, before returning it as he crawls over your form leaving a small peck to your lips nipping at the bottom with a low growl.

“Oh, love....we’re just getting started.”

Sitting at the bar your focus was on the drink before you, not able to will yourself to look at the crowd again and see Wonwoo dancing with that other woman all over him. Junhui came up beside you and leaned against the bar.

“You don’t have to be here, you know. You don’t have to let him do this to you or be subjected to seeing it. Just say the word and I’ll take you home, nothing else needs to be said.” He offers seeing how much this seemed to weigh on you. 

You shake your head softly, “It’s fine, I’m the one who agreed to the arrangement anyways...I knew it might mean seeing him with other women. I just had hope...but now I need to face reality.” 

Junhui looks at you brows furrowed, “I still don’t know why you two agreed to that...you both like each other...why do a friends with benefits thing anyways. It’s not like you’ll stop being friends if you get together. You two are too close for that.”

You shrug slightly, “We have our reasons...it just apparently sucks more than I expected.”

Junhui hums, downing his drink before offering you his hand, “Come on.”

You look at him confused, “Jun, I said I was staying here. I’ll be fine, seriously.”

Junhui scoffs rolling his eyes at you, “First off, I know you aren’t fine. Secondly, we aren’t leaving. We’re going to remind Wonwoo that if he’s free to be with other people, so are you. We’ll see if he likes feeling the same way he makes you feel when he does this.” 

You’re a little uncertain as you take his hand, but you do it nonetheless looking between him and Wonwoo, “And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he just likes fucking me?”

“Well then consider this your chance to find out which it is. If he gets jealous and irritated and acts up, you know it’s emotions. If not then it’s just a fuck to him...though I doubt that’ll be the case.” Junhui insists, pulling you out to the dance floor. 

You couldn’t deny the logic to his words, or the curiosity it peaked in you. Sure, you weren’t over the feelings induced by seeing Wonwoo dance with another woman, but this could give you some of the answers that you were seeking. You weren’t going to hold anything back, but at the same time, you decided to ease into what you did while dancing with Junhui...on the off chance that Wonwoo did break you wanted to know just what it was that made him do that. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Wonwoo's eyes found yours, his gaze hardening as he watched you grind against Jun. Locking onto where Junhui’s hands held your hips he swore he saw red, forgetting about the girl he had been dancing with and heading straight for the two of you. 

“Come on Y/N. I think it’s time to leave.” Wonwoo tells you, holding his hand out to you glaring daggers in Jun’s direction. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you place your hand in his, letting Wonwoo lead you out and to his car. His hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles whiten. 

“What was that?” Wonwoo practically growls making your brows furrow.

“What do you mean? I was only dancing like you were.” You insist, shrugging softly and he scoffs. 

“Oh, so that’s what this is about, hm? You were jealous so you decided to try and make me jealous too.” Wonwoo's eyes are focused on the road, but you could tell they were swirling with clouds of anger and lust.

You shrug instead of vocalizing a response, not caring if it only further fueled the fire burning in Wonwoo to not know what your response was. Letting it fester inside him through the whole drive, brewing a storm you'd face when reaching your apartment, yet that didn't matter at this moment. Not to you anyway.

Wonwoo pulls up to your place, getting out and heading towards your door, grabbing the spare key you'd hidden by it that he knew about. He lets himself in, leaving the door open for you as well, only to press you against it the second you close it. His body radiating heat as it presses against yours keeping you pinned in place, while his head falls to nip at your throat with a soft growl.

“If you wanted me to yourself tonight you could have just said so, but no...you had to get me all worked up like this didn’t you?” The way you mewl his name when his tongue flicks over the sensitive area where his teeth just nipped at you only encourages Wonwoo, “Don’t worry sweetheart you’ll learn just what happens when you make me jealous.” 

He’s pulling back in a flurry of limbs, kisses, and clothing as he dragged you towards your bedroom. His patience wears thin due to the jealousy raging through his bones. So much more than he was expecting to feel seeing you dance with another man.

"Why would you go to him of all people when I was standing right there? you couldn't just ask me for what you wanted? you had to go and find it from someone else?" Wonwoo growls, laying you down on the bed. Crawling over your frame his eyes have darkened more than you've ever seen, desiring to show you that he can do better to you than anyone else could. That he was the only man you'd ever need. Something that he didn't think he should be feeling considering the arrangement between you two and yet here he was unable to do anything other than to have an almost primal urge to prove this to you. 

His lips captured yours before trailing lower until he rested between your legs, breath fanning hotly against your core as his eyes focused on your face. His tongue flicking over your clit and taking your breath away. Your head falling back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure engulfs your senses. His mouth is always skilled at making you forget about anything else and escape to a world where it’s only the two of you. His lips gentle as they kiss over your folds, it is the only chance you’re going to get to catch your breath before he becomes impatient again. His tongue curls into you searching for as much of your taste as he can get. That same desire also encourages him to push you towards your orgasm, eager for anything and everything he can get from you. It came naturally to him too, for the both of you. You two clicked together, chemistry and passion blooming into a perfect and unmatched mix and yet you both still denied that it was the case. Even when it was as clear as day to anyone. 

Wonwoo effectively shutting those thoughts out for you by bringing your orgasm crashing over you. Drowning you in pleasure despite the way he tries to ride you through it all, only pulling away after and giving you a moment as you pant for air and attempt to recover. Going to retrieve a condom and returning to gently rub his hands over your thighs to calm you down further. Only the heated feeling of his large hands on your skin has the opposite effect, bringing up the emotions he had so easily pushed away before. Now though those feelings were too much and before you could register what was happening your cheeks were already stained with tears. Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he sees the tears, not knowing how to react to seeing you crying right now. 

  “Y/N? What is it? What’s wrong? Did I do something that hurt you?” Wonwoo’s thumbs brush away the tears on your cheeks, gently cradling your face in his palms. His eyes only leave your face long enough to search for any sign of what might be wrong. 

“Woo...I...I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Your emotions run amuck through you and screw with your voice. An anxious bout of hiccups setting in as you choke out the words.

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “Okay. But just tell me why, please? What’s wrong? I don’t want to upset you anymore. I...I don’t want you to hate me or anything.”

“That’s just it Wonwoo...I can’t hate you. Even when you piss me the fuck off...even when I’m jealous of the fact that you’re going to other women. I just can’t fucking hate you!” You sniffle anger weaving in amidst the heartbreak, “ I’m in love with you Wonwoo. God, I love you so fucking much that even the thought of you with someone else makes my heart shatter...and yet I’ve had to watch that and act like I’ve been fine for months while you’re carrying on cluelessly...I can’t do it anymore though...if it happens one more time I don’t think I’ll be able to pick myself back up from it again.”

Wonwoo’s palms are firm as they continue to hold your face, despite the fear he had of your fragile state. He wanted to be sure you were looking at his face when he spoke though. Wanted to open the door to his soul for you. So that you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing after what he had to say.

“Then I won’t let it happen again.” Wonwoo promises, leaning down momentarily to let his lips kiss away your tears, “I’ve been suffering the same way...but had I know that you were in this state too I never would have let you suffer like this....Y/N I’m in love with you too...and I’m not just saying that to spare you from heartbreak. I’m saying that because tonight when I saw you with Jun it felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Like my soul was been stripped from my body as I watched you with him...with someone besides me...I thought I had no right to say anything at the time though because I thought I was the only one like this...the only one trying to project my feelings for you elsewhere so I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of you leaving without being mine again.” 

Your tears slowed as you listened to what Wonwoo had to say. It wasn’t able to heal your wounded heart so easily, but it was able to bring you some semblance of calm at this moment.

“Then what does that mean for us Wonwoo?” You question quietly, almost afraid to ask, still fearfully of what the outcome of all this might be.

“That means I want us to be more than friends with benefits. That means I want to date you Y/N. I want you to be the only one for me and for me to be the only one for you. Can we do that...or is it too late now?” He tries not to put you on the spot, however, your feelings are too important for him not to ask. He wants you to make the final decision, to be sure that whatever you want happens. He’s broken you too much at the point to be able to bear if he did it again, even if he hadn’t known before.

“It’s not too late Wonwoo...not yet.” You admit reaching up to cup his cheeks and bring him into a kiss. One with emotions long overdue to be revealed, admitting to each other what even words could not. Speaking a language that only the two of you could hear at this moment.  

Wonwoo only pulls away when he feels you working to undo his pants, his hands moving yours away gently, “I don’t think we should fuck tonight Y/N, not with the emotions right now.”

“Who said anything about fucking? No...I want you to make love to me Wonwoo...I want us to prove to each other that we’re really all the other person needs. Can we do that?” Your question is soft-spoken as you slowly reach out to work on the buttons of his shirt this time, knowing that might be at a better pace right now.

Wonwoo sucks in a break, shuddering at the thought as he helps you with his clothes until like you, he’s left in nothing. Reaching to grab the condom again.

“That we can do.”

[coldsandfluff]

Friday Night Fever (F/M, Original, Illness Care-Taking Fluff)

Wrote this little original F/M care-taking fluff fic inspired by something that happened to me when I was in college (basically, caught a cold, three friends came over unannounced and insisted on me coming with them to the bar until one of them noticed the thermometer on my nightstand and realized I really was too sick to go). I've changed all the characters personality/appearance (including myself) so that we are completely unrecognizable, and added more to the story of course 😚

So if you like group of friends, platonic to maybe romantic care-taking fluff and F/M illness, read on!

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

Annabel left the sandwich shop at the end of her evening shift, feeling the cold autumn air seep through her jacket. Darkness had blanketed the town hours ago, and college students were already filling the streets on their way to the bars to celebrate the end of the week. Not that they’d really needed a reason to drink, of course.

As she launched the trash bags in the large dumpster in the back alley, Annabel felt an uncomfortable shiver running down her back. She’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of days, downing vitamin C fizzy drinks to stave it off. What she’d hoped would end up being a little annoying cold was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for. She could feel the icy tendrils of a fever crawling on her skin, and all she wanted to do was slip under the covers of her warm bed and sleep all weekend.

Her phone pinged as she started making her way back to her apartment.

Finn: We’ll be there in 40 minutes. Zack wants to pick up some pregame vodka from the store first.

Annabel sighed. She’d met Zack, Finn and Alex at her second job—a fancy new restaurant in the heart of town where she’d been waitressing part-time for the past two months. They’d hit it off on opening day, when Zack had accidentally broken a whole stack of plates. No one had seen what had happened but the four of them. Zack had gotten his dishwasher’s apron stuck on the door handle, and his hands had slipped at the sudden pull.

The crash had been deafening.

Right before the owner had rushed in to ask what had happened, Zack’s best friend, Finn, had kicked the wheel of the cart where the plates had been sitting a few moments ago, giving Alexander and Annabel a knowing look.

They’d all told the owner that the cart was broken and had tipped over without anyone touching it. Somehow, the owner had bought the lie. That night, Zack insisted on paying them a round of shots at the bar, and a tradition was born: The four of them. Every Friday. With lots of alcohol.

It was the only time Annabel let loose. With her two jobs and college, she was struggling to find free time, but Friday nights had become sacred. There was nothing like downing drinks and letting the buzz take over, following her three new friends wherever they wanted to go. It was always an adventure. Especially with Zack at the helm.

But tonight, there was no way she could make it.

Annabel: Actually, I can’t come tonight. Sorry.

She walked past a group of friends laughing and hollering, wishing she’d felt as good as they did. But the headache growing behind her eyes wasn’t going to let up, and adding alcohol to the mix would only make it worse. Not only that, but her nose had started running in the past two hours. She’d had to go blow it in the restroom every half hour, getting herself banished from the front of the store by the manager. She’d washed her hands so often that her skin was almost raw.

Just like her nose.

Finn: Nah, you’re coming. Nobody cancels Friday night. Come on.

Annabel couldn’t hold a smile. She typed back, sniffling. Her sinuses were prickling like crazy, as if she’d accidentally inhaled a cloud of tiny fireworks. She stifled a sneeze in the crook of her elbow, mid-word. “Ehh—Ehh’KSHHeeww!” Her eyes watered from the force of it. She wiped the tears away and resumed typing.

Annabel: I’ll make it up to you guys next weekend. Drinks on me.

She grabbed a crumpled tissue from her jacket pocket and dabbed at her nose. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, beckoning her. As she crossed the last stretch of sidewalk to the entrance, she kept checking her phone.

No reply.

Shrugging, she unlocked the front door and took the stairs.

***

Back in her apartment, she made a beeline for the bathroom to the right and used toilet paper to blow her nose, finally free to make as much noise as she wanted. She winced from the roughness of it on her chapped nostrils, but it was all she had. She wasn’t exactly the planning type. Her idea of a grocery list was memorizing the first three items and hoping the rest would come to her as she walked through the aisles. Most often than not, she’d have to make a quick run at the convenience store down the street to get what she’d forgotten.

She gathered her thick curly hair into a bun and looked at herself in the mirror. It was enough to confirm that she’d made the right decision. Her eyes were glazed over, her skin was so pale that her freckles popped like they did in the summer. Except for that slight flush high on her cheeks, of course. She popped a thermometer under her tongue and removed her work clothes, leaving them in a pile in front of the bathtub.

Shivering from the sudden change in temperature, she covered her arms with her hands and ran to her dresser. Her warmest, softest sweater was the first thing she grabbed and put on, before throwing on a pair of comfy leggings and wool socks. The thermometer beeped.

100.8 °F. Figured.

She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the “kitchen” of her studio apartment, which was the size of a matchbox and only contained a mini fridge, a microwave and an old sink. She poured herself some water and walked over to the bed, placing her glass and the thermometer on her nightstand. She would have brought over medicine as well, but she’d run out last semester after catching the flu going around campus, and had forgotten to replenish her stash. No matter. She could sleep this off. It was just a cold.

She suddenly sneezed twice in a row, as if her body wanted to protest her minimizing her illness, then got under the cover. Just as she was getting a little warmer, propping up her laptop to watch a movie, there was a knock at the door.

Annabel sat up, startled.

“Anna, open up!” a voice said behind the door.

Zack.

Annabel chuckled. Of course they wouldn’t give up that easily. She groaned, getting out of the warmth of her bed. She considered rushing to the dresser and putting on cuter clothes—they were her friends, but they were still boys, and she didn’t want to look like shit in front of them—but the thought of it was enough to drain her energy. Screw it. She walked over to the door and opened it.

“Finn told us you don’t want to come,” said Zack as he walked in. It was her friends’ first time coming up to her apartment. They’d usually wait for her downstairs. “So we’re here to change your mind.” He didn’t look at her, too busy checking out her place. He was dressed for the night—a buttoned-up shirt, navy blazer, jeans and dress shoes. His casual chic style always stood out in the local bars filled with broke college students, but he liked it that way.

Finn walked in after him, a crooked grin on his lips. “See, I told you you can’t cancel Friday night.” His shaggy blond hair half-covered his eyes, as always. Finn and Zack had been best friends since high school, and couldn’t have been more different from each other. At least physically. Finn was tall and lanky, Zack was smaller and worked out a lot. But they were both party guys, always ready for a crazy night—even though Finn was a bit more mellow than Zack.

Finally, Alex came in, and Annabel closed the door behind him. He had a sheepish look on his face, as if apologizing for the other two. He was a lot more like Annabel. Quiet, chill, along for the ride—whatever it may be. His deep brown eyes held her gaze for a second too long, and Annabel noticed one of his eyebrow raise ever so slightly. She bit her lip, feeling self-conscious about her appearance. They’d never seen her in such a state before. Thank god she hadn’t had the energy to remove her makeup yet.

“So this is where you live, uh?” Zack said, sitting on her desk chair and spinning it around and around. “I like it. Dorms suck.”

Before she could reply, Finn tsked. “Wow. So no love for your roommate, uh?”

“Dude, I love you,” Zack said, “but between you and an apartment all to myself, the choice is obvious.” He stopped spinning and turned to Annabel, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s so important that you can’t come with us? Do you have a date?”

All three boys turned to her. Annabel almost laughed. Could they not see the condition she was in? She cleared her throat. “No, I’m just not feeling well.”

Finn sat on the edge of her bed and examined her from afar. “Like what? Stomach thing? Flu?”

“Probably a cold, I guess.” Annabel could feel Alex’s gaze on her at her side. She glanced at him, then looked down, feeling silly. Now that she was saying it out loud, it sounded like a poor excuse. But she did have a fever, after all. She just didn’t want to start listing her symptoms.

Zack clasped his hands together. “You know what will make you feel better? Alcohol!” He grinned, as if proud of his solution. “Didn’t they used to give brandy to people when they were sick? We’ll make a special mix for your throat. Something with lemon and orange juice. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, I already have a headache…” Annabel said.

“Just take a couple of Tylenol. It’s like a hangover in advance,” Finn said with an encouraging smile. “One time, I went out clubbing with an ear infection and everything was fine. Actually felt better the next day, weirdly enough.”

“I don’t know guys, I won’t be much fun if—” Annabel was interrupted by a fierce tickle deep in her nose, spreading like wildfire. She ducked to her side, away from Alex. “Ehh’KSSHeeew! ‘KSSSHeeew!”

“Bless you,” the three boys said almost in unison.

“See?” Annabel said, pointing at her nose and sniffling. “You want me to sneeze all over you guys all night?”

Finn shrugged. “We’ll bring tissues. Whatever.”

Alex walked over to the bathroom and grabbed the toilet paper roll from the counter, then handed it to her. “Here.”

Annabel ripped a piece off and wiped her nose. “Thanks,” she said, sheepish.

Alex’s gaze paused on her for a few seconds before he turned to the other two. “Guys, she’s obviously sick. Let’s just go and let her sleep.”

“It’s just a cold,” Zack said. “She’s young and healthy. It’s nothing.” He got up and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Give it an hour, and if you’re not feeling better after a few shots, we’ll walk you home.”

Annabel considered it for a second, trying to fight the shivers. Maybe if she wore something warm and took a few shots, she wouldfeel better. Numb the pain a little, at least. While she pondered it, Finn laid down on top of her bed spread and locked eyes with the thermometer on her nightstand. He frowned and sat up, picking it up.

He looked at her, thermometer in hand. His voice softened. “It’s that bad, uh?”

Annabel blushed. Why did admitting that she had a fever feel so vulnerable? She looked down and nodded. “Kinda.”

Zack looked at the thermometer, then back at Annabel. He narrowed his eyes and put a hand on her forehead. “Ooof,” he said, a hint of concern slipping in his tone.

Finn got up. “Let me see,” he said, walking up to her and placing his own hand on her forehead. His eyebrows shot up. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, you need to be in bed,” Zack finally said, guiding her back to bed. “Why didn’t you say you had a fever? Jesus, Anna.”

She shrugged, sitting on her mattress. “I don’t know. I just get fevers with colds. I guess it’s normal for me.”

“Fevers suck,” Finn said. “Last time I had one, I stayed in bed for two days and everything hurt.” He walked over to the front door. “We’ll miss you tonight, though.”

Zack followed. “Hope you feel better. We’ll text you all the crazy shit that’s going to happen so you don’t miss anything.” He followed Finn out of the apartment, leaving the door open for Alex.

Alex watched them walk by, then grabbed the roll of toilet paper on the counter where Annabel had left it. He brought it over to her nightstand and gave her a sad smile. “Do you need anything?”

Annabel shook her head, relieved that she was going to be able to stay in bed. “I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a second, then nodded. “Let us know if you want us to get you food later. I know I can never sleep when I have a fever.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. Her nose scrunched up, overtaken by another annoying prickle. “Ehh… Iihh’KSSSHHeeww!”

“Bless you.”

Zack’s voice sounded from the hallway. “Alex, you coming?”

Alex snickered. “I guess I should go.” He walked to the door, then turned back. “Feel better, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.”

***

Annabel tried to sleep, but her fever and runny nose kept waking her up, leaving her floating halfway between dreams and reality. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get any rest in her state. She needed cold medicine.

It took her a long time to finally convince herself to get out of bed and go to the convenience store, but she managed to push the covers away and get up. She shivered, causing another tickle in her sensitive nose—it had only gotten worse in the hour since the boys had left. She ducked at the waist in an exhausting triple. “Ehh… Hehh’KSSSHeeeew! ‘KSSHHeeew! Hiihh’KSSHeeew!”

Just then, another knock sounded at the door. Annabel frowned and made her way to the door, cracking it open.

It was Alex. Alone.

“Bless you,” he said with a shy grin.

Annabel let him in. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with the guys?”

He shrugged, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might need this.” He showed her a plastic bag filled with tea, tissue boxes, ramen, cough drops and—she gasped—cold medicine.

Alex chuckled. “So I was right. You don’t have any medicine, do you?”

Annabel laughed. “How did you know?”

“Your nightstand. You only had a thermometer on there. When I’m sick, I take Nyquil everywhere I go.” He handed her the bag. “And I wanted to make sure you had tissues instead of toilet paper. Your nose will thank me.”

Annabel touched her chapped nose, smiling. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He stood there for a second, as if not knowing what to say. “I’ll uh—I’ll let you rest.”

Before he could go, Annabel put her hand on his elbow. “Wait. Do you want to—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, her nose scrunching up yet again, her eyes fluttering. She spun around and sneezed, covering her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “Hehh’KSSHH! Ht’Ksshht!” She turned back around, blinking away the tears and laughing. “Sorry!”

Alex laughed, too. “Bless you.” He held her gaze, then looked down. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh—I was just wondering if—maybe if you’d like to watch a movie with me. I don’t think I can sleep until the medicine kicks in.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Of course he didn’t want to watch a movie with her. This was Friday night. What kind of college guy wanted to hang out with a sick, sneezy, nose-drippy girl on a Friday night instead of getting drunk with his friends. “Sorry,” she added quickly, “I forgot that the guys are probably waiting for you. I guess I’m kind of loopy from the fever.”

Alex took a step forward and placed his hand on her forehead. The gesture was so gentle, so soft, that Annabel closed her eyes, appreciating the coldness of his palm on her hot skin.

“You are definitely burning up,” he half-whispered, frowning. “I was wondering if the guys were exaggerating. Guess not.”

Annabel bit her lip. “I’ll be okay after I take the medicine. You don’t have to stay.”

Alex removed his hand. “I do,” he blurted. “I mean, I do want to watch a movie with you. And stay.”

“Are you sure?” Annabel asked through her blossoming smile. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch my cold?”

“Actually, I have a confession to make.” Alex led her to the bed and placed the content of his bag on her nightstand. “Last Friday, I kind of had a cold. It wasn’t as bad as yours, pretty minor, but… Zack convinced me to come out anyway and I—I think I might have given it to you. You drank out of my glass and I didn’t have time to stop you.” He looked at her, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Annabel laughed. “I can’t believe Zack didn’t rat you out earlier. It would have been the perfect example of someone going clubbing with a cold and ‘being fine’ anyway.”

“He probably knew it was partly his fault that you’re sick and didn’t want to admit it.”

Annabel shook her head. “Well, you owe me a Friday night.” She got into bed and patted the spot next to her. “That means I get to pick the movies.”

Alex grabbed the throw blanket at her feet and draped it over her. “That sounds fair.” He walked over to the other side of the bed and settled next to her. “But when you fall asleep, I can’t guarantee I won’t change it.”

“Deal.”

After taking a dose of Nyquil, Annabel started the movie, snuggling under the blanket. She wondered what kind of crazy adventures Zack and Finn were getting themselves into. She expected to feel FOMO, but instead, she shot a glance at Alex next to her, and realized she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was Alex’s shoulder touching hers, but it felt like this was the start of a different kind of adventure. Maybe not alcohol-fueled, but Nyquil was pretty close.

All because they’d shared a not-so-secret cold.

And Annabel had a feeling it would be worth the fever. And the countless sneezes to come.

THE END

[amyscascadingtabs]

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 1]

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.” “Yeah?” Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.” "Won't be a problem."

Amy Santiago doesn't date cops. Jake Peralta's sworn never to date a lawyer again. When a couple of drinks and the returning of a borrowed shirt ends with the two of them in bed together, Amy decides to take control of the situation the best way she knows how: a comprehensive set of rules. There's just one little thing she hadn't anticipated – Jake Peralta is full of surprises.

Written for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.

AO3 link // playlist

My contribution to this year’s fic exchange, for @fezzle​! @b99fandomevents​​ 💛

1. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

 He gets out of the car, and before Amy can gather the courage to shout after him, he’s disappeared from her sight.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing her fist and punching it in frustration. It doesn’t feel better, just makes her hand hurt. Amy pretends that’s what’s making her eyes tear up, and not the thought that she just screwed up her chances of ever seeing Jake Peralta again.

 five months earlier.

 The cop is five minutes late entering the courtroom, and Amy vows to dislike him from that point onward.

 What's worse is that he doesn't seem ashamed. He simply gives Judge Stewart an apologetic grin, runs a hand through his already messy hair, and sits down on the bench next to the sergeant Amy recognizes as Terry Jeffords. Amy gives him a polite faked smile to tell him she's noted this presence and she's going to win this case, but the cop doesn't seem to notice the toxicity in her facial expression, because she gets another wide grin back. Judging from the colorful marks on his teeth, it looks like he had candy for breakfast – could it be gummy bears? Either way, Amy's respect for the man sinks even lower.

 At least she won't have to worry about him, she tells herself. She already knows this case is about to be a win.

 That is until it turns out this man has a reply for everything. She’d been certain the evidence against her client was circumstantial at best, nowhere near enough to get him convicted on, and the notes she’d gone through from the initial police questioning had lacked significant information. It had been nothing short of sloppy, and she’d entered the courthouse this morning filled with glowing confidence. That same confidence is now seeping away, dripping onto the polished floors of the courtroom in exchange for heated frustration as it turns out the detective – Jake Peralta, she learns – was present at the scene earlier than Amy had gathered, and from the vantage point he had, saw her client running from the corner store at full speed.

“Would you say it’s possible my client was running for a different reason?” She asks, staring coldly into the detective’s eyes as she speaks. “Such as exercising, perhaps?”

“Well, he was carrying a huge green backpack, identical to the one he was wearing when my partner Charles caught him ten minutes later. So, no,” he says, meeting her look with a smug smile of his own. “I would say that’s unlikely.”

“But not impossible?”

“Considering we also found the stolen goods in that same backpack, I’d say the chance is pretty solid it was him.”

“The bags couldn’t have been switched? Or, as my client claims, the goods couldn’t have been dropped in there by someone who wanted to get rid of them?”

“With all due respect,” says Jake Peralta, and the self-assuredness in his voice is enough for her to know the case is lost. “The streets were more crowded than a Taylor Swift concert, your honor. Someone would have seen something.”

 ~

 It’s late Friday afternoon by the time Amy returns to the office of Newsom & Associates, but there’s still plenty of her coworkers left to watch as she throws her briefcase on top of the chair before closing the door to her office and digging out her pack of shame cigarettes from the bottom drawer of her desk. The only window in the room opens out to a back alley with trash cans and forgotten bikes, which is a drab view most of the time but comes in handy for secret shame-smoking. She closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, trying to savor the first inhale. She hates the habit and always tells herself she’s going to quit soon, but at times when work stresses her out like this, there’s no better fix. It’s all Jake Peralta’s fault, anyway. He’d waved at her when they’d left the courtroom, looking genuinely pleased to see her, and that had only worsened her frustration. It’s one thing being defeated – it’s worse when the winner acts like it wasn’t even a big deal.

 “You should stop that.” The sound of Rosa’s voice appearing in the doorway to Amy’s office causes her to inhale too much smoke, coughing and tearing up as she hurries to extinguish the cigarette butt on the windowsill. “It’s gross.”

“I needed it,” Amy coughs again before drying her eyes with the sleeve of her blazer. “You should’ve been there. That fucking detective ruined my defense.”

“So? It happens. Doesn’t make you a bad lawyer. Stop pitying yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you win nearly all your cases,” Amy mumbles. “And everyone’s terrified of you.”

Rosa does a little shrug, but Amy thinks she can spot the hint of a smile on her lips. She can’t be certain, though. Rosa almost never smiles, but that’s not nearly the most terrifying thing about her. She also rides her motorcycle to court and wears leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans to trials, and somehow no one's ever dared to police her on it. Amy once asked her out of curiosity if putting on a blazer would really hurt that much, and the stare she got back told her she’d be a fool to make that mistake again.

“Either way, it's not that. It was that cop who ruined everything. I mean, he showed up late, for god’s sake, with candy in his teeth and a wrinkled suit! But he somehow had an answer and explanation for everything,” Amy snorts. “And he smiled the whole time like he’d already won. And he referenced Taylor Swift! During the trial! Who does that?”

Rosa lets out a laugh. “You're a Swift hater? God, please don't tell me you took Kanye’s side too.”

“I didn't – that's beside the point!”

“Which is?”

“That he has zero respect for the sacred rules of a courtroom, and gets away with it all because of that super-charm smile.”

“Yeah, you mentioned the smile. Twice.”

“It was just so…” She clenches her fist until her red nails press into her palm to the point of pain, then releases it. “It's fine. I’ll win my next case, and there are lots of cops in New York. I probably won't ever see him again.”

 ~

 Amy can barely hide her frustration in court the next week when she hears the doors open and looks up from the papers she was sorting, only to see Jake Peralta for the second time in her life. He’s on time today, which she supposes is progress, but there are stains on his shirt that seem to be coming from the can of orange soda he’s holding in his hand. She wonders if it's his breakfast. If that's his diet, he looks surprisingly fit in a grey suit for it.

 He grins again when he sees her, raising his hand in a lazy wave. Amy gives him a forced smile, then returns to her papers. She’ll have to make sure to win this time.

 But despite her confidence and very best efforts, she loses to Jake Peralta yet another time.

And another.

And another.

 It's not that she's suddenly magically unlucky, because she still manages to win several other cases, but every time Jake Peralta shows up to testify, without fault, Amy loses.

It infuriates her.

 The worst part is that Jake seems oblivious to her anger. He smiles at her every time they leave the courtroom, even though she returns them with little to no genuineness at all. She once spots him doing a childish victory gesture outside the courthouse, but he never once takes the opportunity to brag about his win to her face.

 Aside from his surprisingly good manners when it comes to bragging, though, he's a mess. There's always some kind of stain on his shirt or his cheek that he seems unaware of, his ways of describing things involve one too many pop culture references for Amy’s liking, and she starts preparing to meet him every time a detective is five minutes late. She wonders if no one's ever told him how one is supposed to behave in a courtroom, but he’s usually accompanied by the precinct’s sergeant, so that seems unlikely. The more likely option, Amy figures, is that he just doesn't seem to find it that important; especially considering he seems to get away with it every single time.

 She swears it's all because of that stupid infectious smile.

 ~

 It pleases Amy to no end when she learns that Jake Peralta is going to be the witness in one of the strongest cases she’s had in a long while. The client was clearly acting in self-defense, she has a witness of her own who can testify to that, and although she knows that nothing is for certain until the verdict falls, she’s got a good feeling about this one. Finally, the day has come for Jake Peralta to watch her win.

 At first, the state attorney’s case seems solid. Jake is assisted by a short, round-faced man with dark brown hair and an expression that looks like he’s seconds away from apologizing for taking up everyone’s time, but his suit is matched and perfectly straight and he gets right to the point without any odd references, so Amy still earns a fair amount of respect for detective Charles Boyle. He and Jake had entered the subway car after hearing about a fight taking place, and stepped on just in time to watch her client aim a closed-fist punch at the face of the man on top of him. It’s clear and convincing, but Amy knows that after the recess, it will be her time to shine. She loves these moments, when it’s obvious the other side thinks they have it in the bag but she knows something they don’t, and they have no idea what’s coming. She knows trials are about justice and not personal victories – but she’s only human. Winning is always a thrill.

 She’s thinking about how she’s going to be celebrating her win later this evening when Jake Peralta bumps into her at the coffee shop neighboring the courthouse. As in, literally bumps into her, with his elbow when he hurries forward to grab a plastic cup with whipped cream and so much caramel syrup on top of the coffee that Amy pities his dentist.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry… wait, it's you!” He shines up as if he’d just seen a past good friend, and Amy’s once more taken aback by how polite he is. A lot of cops she meets during trials either tend to make fun of her profession or glare bitterly at her from a distance, but Jake's doing neither. He even reaches out his free hand to shake hers, so she accepts. “Jake Peralta – wow, you have a very firm handshake.”

“I took a seminar. Amy Santiago.”

“Where?” He asks, but she ignores him and moves forward in line to order her coffee with milk.

“Nothing for your client? Wow. I’d expected you to have better manners than that, Santiago.”

“I offered, but he wanted to spend recess with his partner for moral support. See?” She raises a brow at him. “I do have manners.”

There's that smile again, up close this time, and Amy's relieved when the barista hands her the coffee so she can hide the involuntary blush in her cheeks. She never noticed he had dimples before.

“So, how are you feeling about the rest of the trial, then? Ready to go defend the guilty guy?”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Peralta. Famously one of the most sacred principles in the American justice system. And I was born ready.”

“And lose. The whole question was, are you ready to go defend the guilty guy and lose, and you said you were born that way.” Jake grins in a way that makes him look like an overgrown mischievous school kid. Maybe not that far off, Amy thinks.

“Twist my words all you want, I am winning this case.” She hesitates for a moment, noticing Jake's detective partner looking at the two of them from a table in the corner of the room. Not normally something she'd be that creeped out by, if it hadn't been for the fact that the man isn’t tearing his eyes away from them, and he looks weirdly overjoyed. “Uhm, is detective Boyle okay? He's staring at us pretty intensely.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, he has… an eye condition.” Jake turns around and mouths something that looks to be BOYLE, and the man rolls his eyes before stalking away. “Ignore him. Anyway… so what do you think about the judge?”

 Amy's about to launch into a description of her good experience with judge Myers when someone brushes past her with their iced coffee in a hurry, losing control of the plastic cup. The unsecured lid wobbles, and before Amy realizes what’s about to happen, cold coffee splashes onto her earlier pristine white blouse. “Fuck!” She reaches for a bunch of paper napkins and tries to dab the worst away with them, but the milky coffee is already seeping through the fabric and leaving an obvious stain that her blazer can’t hide.

“What a jerk,” Jake mutters, glaring in the direction of where the stranger disappeared.

“Never mind that! I don’t have another shirt! I can’t go into a courtroom looking like this! Unlike you, I actually care about whether my clothes have giant stains on them!”

“First of all, rude, and second of all, they’re not giant.”

“I don’t care. I’m screwed. Fuck, I don’t have time to run back home before the trial starts – I guess I could call Rosa –”

“Hey, hey.” Jake holds up his hands as if trying to calm her down, which only makes Amy more frustrated. “I know this is kind of crazy, but, I have a shirt in my car that I was planning to return to my ex. But emphasis on ex, so…” He shrugs. “You could borrow it?”

 Amy considers her options. On the one hand, she figures there’s about an eighty percent chance that whatever Jake has in his car also has some kind of mysterious stain on it, but on the other hand, she took the subway today and there's no way she’ll make it to her apartment and back before the court is back in session. Asking for a longer recess is an option, but making everyone wait simply because she needs a change of clothes makes her too uncomfortable to even consider.

“Fine,” she relents. “Where's your car?”

 Jake's car turns out to be an old Mustang, which Amy can tell even from her strictly limited car-knowledge is pretty impressive, but she doesn't understand how he can find anything in there. The backseat is a mess of empty orange soda bottles, a couple of frisbees, candy wrappers, what looks to be cartoons and old CDs, and the cup holders have shaving foam next to another can of orange soda. She's equally surprised and impressed when he pulls out a clean, dark blue charmeuse blouse. Whoever Jake's ex-girlfriend was, she seems to have both taste and money.

“You're totally saving my day today,” she says as he gives it to her. “You really didn't have to.”

“Prove that cops aren't all bad?” Amy rolls her eyes, and Jake laughs. “Just kidding. You have to give it back, though.”

“As soon as I’ve washed it. Wait, we have to be able to get in touch.” She digs in the inside pocket of her briefcase and pulls out two of her business cards. “I’m assuming you don't have any, so write your number on the back of that one.”

“Rude, but correct.” He scribbles down something on one of the cards before giving it back. “I’ll see you up there, then… Amy Santiago.”

Something about the way he says her name, slowly and with perfect pronunciation, makes her want to hear it again. She hurries back into the building and toward the bathrooms, hopefully before he can tell that she's blushing.

 “The defense may call the next witness.”

“The defense calls Elinor Simons.” Amy can feel everyone's eyes on her as well as the witness as a young girl, no more than eighteen, walks up to the stand. She's pale, but she looks determined, and Amy gives her a comforting smile as she swears the oath.

 Elinor’s voice trembles at her first words, but Amy keeps steady eye contact with her, and soon she’s speaking louder and less hesitant. She had been on her way to her friend’s house when she entered the same subway car as the two young men, and had overheard the two of them fighting over something. Sitting only a few seats away from them in the near-empty car, she’d noticed the defendant looking scared, and out of curiosity, had turned off her music. She’d heard the man who’d later gotten attacked – Mr. Lorentz – scream that the defendant was an asshole, and then she’d seen him push him to the floor, much unlike the way the prosecution had described a course of events in which both men had slipped. It had scared her, so she’d gotten up to walk away, but before she could move she’d seen Mr. Lorentz leaning down.

“It looked like he was about to hit the defendant,” she says without wavering, and Amy can see a few of the jury members nodding in understanding. “And even if they were about the same size, Mr. Lorentz looked really strong. The defendant tried, but it seemed to me like he was unable to get up. I remember thinking this wasn’t going to end well, so I headed for the end of the car before they noticed me.”

“And you’re sure of what you saw?”

“Completely sure. I only found out later that the defendant was a cousin of my sister’s boyfriend, which is how I learned about the trial.”

Amy nods and clasps her hands together, trying to assume a confident stance as she keeps her eyes focused on the witness stand. “Elinor, in the position he was in, do you believe that the defendant would have been scared?”

“I think anyone would have been.”

“So the punch witnesses watched the defendant throw, could it have been in self-defense?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you. No further questions.”

 The prosecution’s closing arguments are short and precise, sticking entirely to the part of the events that took part after the police walked in. The district attorney, a balding man in his fifties, as good as overlooks Elinor’s testimony in favor of focusing in on detailed descriptions of the headaches Mr. Lorentz had experienced after the event, and that alone is enough to make Amy’s blood boil; but instead she just sits there, waiting with a polite smile on her lips.

 Finally, the other attorney sits down, and the judge nods at Amy to stand up. During her very first trials, this moment used to freak her out – everyone’s eyes on her and waiting expectantly – but with time she’s come to love this. It reminds her of the thrill of getting the last word in a heated fight with her siblings when she was younger, only now, she doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Everyone’s already listening.

 “Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: it’s correct that the defendant hit Mr. Lorentz on that train. He admits to doing so himself.” Amy nods to the young man sitting next to her, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs on his shirt. “But there is one key aspect which the prosecution has so conveniently chosen to ignore, and that is the events which led up to Mr. Petersen’s actions. A background which he not only has explained clearly himself, but which is also backed up by Ms. Simmons’ testimony.” She gestures with her hand to Elinor.

“You see, Mr. Petersen wasn’t acting unprovoked. When the incident happened, he had been pushed to the floor, and like both my client and the witness described, he was unable to get up. Mr. Lorentz himself admits to practicing weightlifting; he’s not a weak man, and in the moment, he was clearly upset with the defendant. As Ms. Simmons put it… “ She takes a break to gather the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyone in that position would have been terrified.”

“Under New York Law, Penal Law paragraph thirty-five point fifteen, a person is justified in using physical force against another, when that person is under the reasonable belief that the physical force is necessary to defend the person from what they reasonably believe to be the illegal imminent use of force or the illegal use of force. Mr. Petersen was stuck, and under the reasonable belief that Mr. Lorentz could hurt him unless he managed to free himself. He acted in self-defense, which I remind you that the prosecution has not been able to disprove. In fact, the case against Mr. Petersen cannot be proved against reasonable doubt, which means that you must find him… not guilty.”

 From the other side of the room, she swears she can feel Jake’s eyes on her. When she looks up, she sees him mouthing nice job.

 ~

 “What did you say he looked like, now again? Except for crazy hot and adorable?” Kylie takes another sip of her mojito, spying over the crowded bar.

“Okay, I said neither of those things.”

Kylie shrugs. “Didn’t have to.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, I guess kind of a bigger nose… and I don’t know what he wears outside of court, but there was a leather jacket in the front seat of his car, so maybe that?” She strains her neck to try and see through the Friday night crowd. She’s never been to this particular Brooklyn bar before, but Jake had suggested it when Amy asked about a good place to give him back the shirt, and she’d figured after a long week, she might as well treat herself to a couple of after-work drinks with a friend. After being asked about the so-called mystery hottie five times, though, she’s starting to regret bringing Kylie along.

“Mm, that’s like, all the guys in here… oh, wait, that one’s waving to you!” Kylie points to a figure near the door, elbowing Amy in the side and causing her to nearly choke on her wine. She’s still coughing when Jake walks up to them, trying to offer him a smile while drying her eyes. Jake looks politely confused, but shakes Kylie’s hand in the meantime.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says with a meaning wink to Amy before sliding off the leather barstool, leaving it for Jake. “Have a good night!”

“Ignore her.” Amy sighs. “Sorry, I…”

“No, no worries,” Jake says, and the honest care in his expression makes her feel oddly warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She waves a dismissive hand and picks up the dry-cleaning bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Well, here’s the shirt. Thank you for the loan. Or thank your ex, I suppose.”

“Dry-cleaned, really? You truly are type A.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, it makes sense.” He nods to the glass in her hand. “Celebrating Tuesday’s win?”

“Something like that. It was Monday, though,” she can’t stop herself from correcting him. “I don’t get a lot of time off. Gotta make the best out of it.”

“Yeah, me neither. Do you mind if I join you for another drink? Or maybe you should do water, in case you choke again?”

Something about the way he poses it like a challenge makes her take the glass, put it to her lips, and swallow the rest of the wine in one gulp. “I think I can handle it.”

 They pay for their own drinks, because whatever this meeting is, it’s definitely not a date, and it makes Amy relieved that Jake doesn’t seem to think so either.

“A toast,” he suggests. “To your win this week. I gotta give it to you, those closing statements were solid.”

“To justice,” Amy says, and they raise their beer bottles in unison. “And my win. Finally.”

“Yeah, what has it been, like, five wins for me?”

“Four, but dream on, Peralta.”

Jake laughs. The dimples in his cheeks become even more prominent when he laughs, Amy notes. “Have you always been this intense about winning cases, then? Or is it something that comes with law school? Like there’s a class in being petty about this stuff?”

You’re intense too, she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. “Maybe. I have seven brothers, and I was the only girl. I got pretty good at winning fights using other things than physical strength when I was a kid. Actually, sometimes physical strength, too.”

“I feel like you could beat someone up if you wanted to. You could surprise them.”

“Oh, I could most definitely beat someone up if I wanted to. But I stuck to arguing. I got good at it. And I always had good grades, so I ended up at Columbia, and I’ve never really regretted it.” She takes a swig of her beer. “Not even when cops call me the devil.”

“I wouldn’t call you the devil,” Jake says. “I mean, do I think you lack a bit of a moral compass? Probably. But each to their own.”

She leans her head a little bit to the side, eyeing him closely. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you have to defend people that you know did awful things, right? Doesn’t that make you feel sick sometimes?”

“I don’t have to defend their actions. Most times, it’s not even about that. It’s about making sure the trial is fair, the evidence is sufficient and their rights are respected, so that if there’s a conviction, it’s actually beyond any reasonable doubt. I like to believe most people are better than their worst moments. I see it as my job to make sure they’re treated that way.”

“Huh.” Jake nods slowly. “Guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Plus,” she winks, “someone’s gotta hold you guys accountable, right?”

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “Hey, did you say you went to Columbia? My captain’s husband teaches law there. Did you ever have a Kevin Cozner?”

“No way! Your captain is Raymond Holt?” She’s speaking way too loudly, she can tell from the way other people are glancing at her, but Jake looks entertained. “Sorry, it’s just – Professor Cozner was my favorite constitutional law teacher. I still send him and Raymond Christmas cards every year!”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Jake grins. “But, how weird is that? Almost like the universe is bringing us together or something.”

Amy thinks that it’s not that weird, since Kevin must teach hundreds of students every year that g on to become lawyers, but she kind of wants to keep seeing that smile on Jake’s face forever, so she nods. “So weird.”

 They order another drink, plus some chips and nuts when Jake realizes he forgot to eat dinner, and move to another table in the back of the room. Amy’s surprised how comfortable she feels in his presence. It’s like she can’t wipe the smile off her face but doesn’t want to, and with time and a little more alcohol, jokes that she barely would have noticed on any other day become laugh-out-loud funny. It feels natural, even though she’s not sure how, and she tries not to glance at the clock on the wall when he doesn’t either. She’s got work to do tomorrow and she can’t stay out forever, but she doesn’t want to be reminded that this evening has to end at some point.

 “So what made you become a cop, then?” She asks when she realizes she’s the only one who’s shared her origin story tonight. “Childhood superhero dreams?”

Jake shines up like he’s been waiting for the question all night. “Oh, that’s easy. Die Hard.”

“Really?”

“For sure. Actually, my mom said I was always good at protecting people, so I ended up doing it for a job. But I think that’s bullshit. It was definitely Die Hard.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Amy confesses, and Jake stares at her like she just insulted his entire being. “But if you want a cop movie, my top three’s Training Day, Lethal Weapon, and Fargo.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong! How can you not have seen Die Hard? It’s classic, man!”

“I just never did! How many lawyer movies have you seen, then?”

“Uhm…” Jake squints. “Charles made me watch Legally Blonde once? It was pretty good, honestly.”

“Well, duh, that movie is a cinematic masterpiece and a feminist work of art. How feminist is Die Hard, from a scale of one to ten?”

“Hey! Holly Gennaro does plenty of cool stuff throughout the movies! You’re just going to have to watch them yourself.”

“I can almost guarantee you I won’t.”

“Fine, but you’re missing out.” He grabs a couple of peanuts from the jar between them, throwing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Cool trick, right?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I did teach myself that during stakeouts, but no. Whatever. Throw me another one.” She does, and he catches it again, this time almost sliding off the barstool in the process. She laughs a bubbling laugh as he does it another time. “Now you.”

“Fine. Try me.” The peanut flies through the air between them, and she tries to dive for it, but it just ends up landing at her feet. “Okay, another one.” She misses that one too. “Okay, there must be something wrong with these nuts.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Title of my what?”

“Nevermind.” Jake laughs. “You just need some practice. Maybe at work? It could liven up a trial.”

“Nuh-uh, don’t need practice. Just need a better tactic.” Without thinking, she grabs a handful of them this time, throwing them in the air. This time, she catches a few of them in her mouth, while the rest end up spread over the couch and floor. “The key is volume!”

“Yeah, and the bartender is looking at you like he wants to kill you, so maybe don’t do it again or we’ll get thrown out.”

“It’s fine, I’m a lawyer.”

“That phrase works well to get out of trouble?”

“If you know what you’re doing. We could order more drinks to keep him happy?”

“Shots?”

“I’m down if you’re down.”

 Jake orders a Kamikaze shot for each of them, and as she reaches forward to take the second glass, her hand brushes against the top of his for a moment longer than necessary, resting there. It’s warm, and it feels calloused but somehow soft at the same time. They look at each other, his light brown eyes staring into hers, and she feels instantly hyper-aware that they’re around far, far, too many people.

She lets go of his hand, taking the shot and swallowing it before anyone can notice what’s happening. It smells like sour hand sanitizer and burns going down, and she laughs at Jake’s grimace when he drinks his.

“God, every time.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, I know this is crazy, but… do you maybe want to get out of here? We could have another drink at my place… watch Die Hard… whatever.”

“Mm, yeah. Maybe I should check that the shirt gets back to your place properly?”

“Shirt? What shirt? Oh, right, fuck, the shirt!” Jake spins in place, rushing back to the table where they were just sat. “Shit, I probably spilled beer on it, Sophia’s going to be pissed now...”

“It’s still in the bag, smartass.” Amy shows him. “Ta-da. Shirt’s still clean. Comes in handy being type A sometimes, huh?”

Jake sighs. “I know you're making fun of me, but I could seriously kiss you right now.”

 Maybe it’s the four drinks, maybe it’s the thrill that comes with how rarely she does this, or maybe it’s just sheer and wild impulse, but Amy finds herself whispering,

“Maybe we should get out of here, then.”

 ~

 Amy learns a lot of things that night.

 She learns that Jake Peralta is a seriously good kisser, tasting faintly of orange soda beneath the alcohol and salt, and that being pressed against his front door with his hands protecting her head strikes the perfect balance between feeling adventurous and safe. She learns that he’s never really quiet, soft moans and sighs filling the room in the breaks between their kisses, but that the sound only makes her want more.

 She learns that he wears even more layers than her. Beneath the leather jacket and hoodie is a checkered blue flannel that has way too many buttons for her liking right now, and she curses her slight tipsiness while working at them one by one. When she's finally done, Jake pulls the grey t-shirt over his head, and she barely has time to pause to admire how he somehow can look fit despite that catastrophic diet, or the curls on his chest that are begging for her to run her fingers through them, before he's asking “my turn?”. She learns that Jake Peralta is impatient, that his hands work fast on the buttons of her cerise shirt, and that he gets adorably confused when he can't find the button on her suit pants.

“It's on the side,” she tells him and shows him the zipper, and then they're both giggling until she kisses him like that and it's back on again.

 She learns that his hands feel good, sliding slowly up the sides of her stomach and back and rubbing against her shoulder blades. She unclasps the white t-shirt bra for him, smiling to herself as he swallows quickly.

“God, you’re hot,” he whispers, and the soft bites he trails down her chest and stomach make her feel that way, too.

 They move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them, and then she’s underneath him and breathing hard as his mouth moves lower, closer. The anticipation of it all is driving her mad, but then he looks up at her and asks “okay?” with the most sincere and caring expression, and Amy’s had very, very few one-night-stands in her life, but she’s certainly never had one like this.

“Okay,” she nods, and there’s that familiar grin again, but this time it makes her feel warm in a very specific place.

 She learns that Jake Peralta can do a whole lot more with his mouth than talking people’s ears off. His breath ghosts over her through her underwear at first, warming her up even though it’s barely even necessary, and then he’s finally pulling down the black material and helping her kick them off. His tongue is careful at first, just tasting her as if to gauge her expression, but then she nods at him to continue and the next second, her head is thrown back as she lets out a gasp.

 She learns that he likes it when she pulls his hair. At first, her hands are just lightly tangling in it for practicality, but then she holds on tighter as a means of control when her legs begin to tense up and the familiar pressure is starting to rise. She’s raising her hips slightly only to lower them again, helping him get her there, and the curls of his hair are just begging to be pulled.

“Do that again,” he pauses to say, so she tugs his hair harder and he straight-up moans.

 She learns that he can make her scream, which she wasn’t expecting, and she rocks through the euphoric waves and pants and practically melts into the bed as she comes down from it.

“That good?” He winks, and she wants to roll her eyes, but he did just make her come harder than she remembers doing in a long time, so she kisses the smile off of him instead, tasting her arousal on his lips.

She learns that he's respectful and a gentleman, telling her that they can stop this here if she'd rather, but she doesn’t want to, and they don’t. He has to rifle through the drawer in his bedside table for a while before he finds a condom – maybe he doesn’t do this as often as she’d thought, maybe it’s another sign of his poor organization skills, but he finds one soon enough so she’s not sure she cares – and then it’s a little bit of a blur, but she rolls it on him with precise strokes and lowers herself on top of him and oh my god.

 She learns that when he looks at her, when he touches her, it makes her feel powerful and special all at once. He plays with her boobs as she sets the pace, his thumbs rolling against her nipples in a way she didn’t realize she liked, and she picks up her rhythm, clenching around him and leaning back on his raised thighs.

 She learns just how enjoyable it is to watch him fall apart underneath her. His pace stutters and he curses, groaning a confession of how close he is, and she could almost come again from watching him alone but she brings two fingers to her clit and touches herself anyway. He finishes before her, spilling out inside the condom with a moan that she can only imitate, collapsing against his chest as she brings herself to orgasm again right after him.

 When they're done learning, they collapse together in his bed. For a moment, Amy considers turning around and calling a cab home, because that would be the most responsible thing to do, but then Jake throws an arm around her to pull her closer, and after all, she's still a little tipsy.

What harm could it possibly do, anyway?

 ~

 Sharp, unforgiving morning light wakes Amy up before her alarm the next morning. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she thinks, and rolls over on the other side so the light doesn't hurt her eyes. She expects the usual greeting of a sea of pillows, and has to stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when instead, she's hit with a wall of Jake sleeping with his back to her. A vague memory of them falling asleep like this hits her. He’d wanted to be the little spoon, she remembers.

 At first, knowing that intimate fact about him makes her feel proud. Then it makes her panic.

 She jumps out of bed, throwing off her part of the comforter in search of her clothes. She finds her underwear and bra together with her shirt, trying to dress as quietly as possible, quick before Jake wakes up and discovers that she's half-naked in his apartment and they have to have a very, very awkward talk –

“Amy? What are you doing?”

Too late.

 She freezes on the spot, chewing on her lip as she fumbles for an explanation. Jake’s eyes rake over her with curiosity, which somehow feels a lot more exposing today than it did last night, and it's making her lose track of her words. His bed head curls and disoriented smile is decidedly not helping her focus.

“We slept together last night,” she manages.

Jake’s smile grows wider and prouder as he sits up fully in bed. Amy blushes as she notices the shadow of two hickeys way too close to his neck to be professional.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Very funny.” She sees her pants thrown across the back of a massage chair and quickly reaches for them. “But this… You know this can’t be a thing, right? Just so we're on the same page about it.”

Jake frowns. “What do you mean with a thing?”

“This – us – we can't date, Jake. I know that. You know that.”

He’s silent for a moment before he fakes a shudder. “Yeah, yeah, no. I’ve dated lawyers before. Never ends well.”

“You have?” The reveal surprises her. “It doesn't matter. This can’t happen.”

“I know.”

“Good,” she exhales. “I’m just going to find my clothes, then, and then I’m going to leave.”

“Hey, wait.” He twists his hands together, bringing them to his chin with a smile. “This is going to sound weird, but… even if nothing can happen between us, I’m still glad we had sex last night.”

 The confession takes her by surprise, and Amy wonders again if she just doesn't know anything about one-night-stands. Sleep together, have fun, sneak out in the morning before anything can go deeper – isn't that how it's supposed to go? If so, she's majorly failing, because she can't stop herself from giving him another shy smile in return.

“Me too. Just because, we were like… really good at it.”

“Stupid good!” Jake exclaims. “It makes no sense!”

“We still can't date, though,” she reminds him. “So how do we work this out?”

“Well, it sort of looked like you were planning to just leave, and I’m not going to stop you if that's your choice, but… there is one more option.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could be friends with benefits,” he shrugs. “None of the commitment, none of the weird incompatibilities between a cop and a lawyer, just us and some stupid good sex.”

“Friends with benefits? Do the kids really say that, still?”

“I’m saying you could consider it.”

 Amy's first instinct is to protest, to say absolutely not and leave on the spot. Her relationship history may not contain that many names, but at least they’ve all been fairly straightforward and conventional. She's never done something like this before, and the mere idea of jumping into something so unknown with someone like Jake scares her shitless.

 Then again, she's also never been with someone like Jake. Yesterday hadn't been a date, but it had still been better than all the awkward dinners and half-hearted walks she's been at since she broke up with Teddy a year ago. And the sex – well, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't already thinking of doing that again.

 “There would need to be rules,” she says.

“Sure, we can come up with some.”

“I’ll write a contract.”

“We need a contract?”

“Yeah,” she decides. “If this is going to work, we need a comprehensive set of rules, and they need to be written down, because I don't trust you not to adjust them in your head last minute.”

“How am I attracted to you? But, fine.”

Amy shakes her head, closing the last button on the shirt that had been left unbuttoned until now. “So… I’ll put together a draft and bring it over tonight? Your place?”

Jake gapes at her for a moment like he can't believe what he hears, but then he nods. “I’m free.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.” With that, she pulls on her socks and shoes, leaving before she can freak out again.

“Cool, cool,” she hears just before closing the door. “Friends with benefits. Cool, cool, cool, cool… cool.”

 ~

[pretendingboyfriends]

A/N: it’s finally finished!! after over a month!!! i’m so sorry this has taken so long but y’all know me, i’m terrible at time management and i’m mentally ill so nothing is ever consistent <3 BUT it’s here now and it’s finished and i hope u love it. thank you to @sunflowers-styles​ and @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ for beta reading and giving me ideas for when i was stuck. i’m nothing without my betas <3

Warnings: explicit language & sexual tension

Word count: 6.5k+

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Your heart is racing in your chest with every lingering moment that passes as you watch Deidre finish getting ready for the day. Her plan is to spend the afternoon with Jeffrey and then the two of you would meet back up and have a movie night (plus Harry, if he’s up for it). And you, well, you have your own plans.

“Do you think this looks good?” She asks, spinning herself around in front of the vanity mirror in the corner of the bedroom. 

You glance up from the book in your lap to see that she’s wearing a loose, white spaghetti strap dress that reaches just below her knee, pastel pink bikini peeking from beneath the fabric. You smile, “I think it looks great! What shoes are you wearing?”

She bends down to the floor, quickly grasping a pair of tan, strappy sandals. “These?” 

“Yeah,” You nod. “Those are perfect.”

“Okay,” She smiles, leaning down to slide her feet into the sandals and strap them securely onto her feet before she grabs her tote bag from the bed with a sigh.  “Okay, I’ll see you later! Meet back here at 5:00?”

You nod in confirmation, giving her a small smile and wave as she nearly skips through the bedroom door and down the hallway. As soon as she’s out of your sight you freeze, waiting for the familiar rumble of Jeffrey’s car to take off down the road with Deidre inside. Once the glorious sound kisses your ears, you’re leaping from the bed, frantically tearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants you’ve been wearing from your body to change into a tank top, loose-fitting jean shorts, and a pair of Doc Martens (bathing suit underneath, of course). 

You’re brushing a few coats of mascara onto your eyelashes after taking a record breaking 2 minutes to change into your clothes and shoes when you sense his presence in the doorway. 

“You look nice.”

You slide the applicator into the mascara container and screw the lid shut, turning your head to look at Harry as he leans against the doorframe with his hands behind his back. His hair is still slightly damp from his shower, framing his face and shoulders in thick, shiny curls. Your eyes travel south, dropping to his floral, short sleeve button up, unbuttoned partially to expose his inked chest and then flickering down to his skin tight, black jeans and tan chelsea boots. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smiles in response, dimples sinking into his blushing cheeks. “You ready to go?”

“Yep,” You sigh, grabbing your bag from the floor and walking towards the bedroom door. He allows you to pass him, following closely behind you through the house before tugging the front door open for you and beckoning you outside. The air is warm and humid as you make your way towards Harry’s car, the wind whipping against you gently. 

Once you reach the car, Harry quickly beats you to the passenger side to open the door for you, flashing you a gorgeous smile as you slide into the seat. The expensive leather of the seat immediately sticks to your bare legs from the heat and humidity and you huff, lifting your legs to peel them from the material. 

Harry slides himself into the driver’s seat, immediately cranking the car and fiddling with the air conditioner knobs to blast cool air into the stuffy, hot vehicle.

“So, where are we going?” You ask once he pulls onto the empty road lined with palm trees. 

He keeps his eyes trained to the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on his jean-clad thigh. “I was thinking we could get coffee first and then I could take you to a bookstore I saw on my way in. But only if you’re okay with that,”

You smile to yourself, “I’m more than okay with that.”

A soft blanket of silence falls over both of you as Harry drives and you allow your gaze to wander his figure, from the god-like curve of his jaw to his perfectly chiseled hands. The sparkling glint of his rings in the noon sunlight catches your eye and you tilt your head slightly to get a better look at them. On his left index and middle finger are two silver rings, one with a rectangular, teal gem embedded into it, the other with a line of tiny dancing bears carved into the metal. Then, on the middle finger of his right hand, a lone silver ring with the word “peace” etched directly in the middle. They are simple pieces of jewelry, but enticing nonetheless.

Your mind wanders as your gaze does the same, falling to the curve of his plush, pink lips. It’s been a few days since you’d kissed him on the beach, tumbling into the sand like children, and you’re slightly embarrassed to admit that you haven’t stopped craving his lips since you parted ways that evening. The agreement you had made was to wait until after at least a few dates to kiss again (mainly to keep yourselves as contained as possible) but both of you are finding it increasingly hard as the time goes by. You just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

After a bit of light conversation and a 10 minute drive, you’re finally pulling into the parking lot of a little coffee shop named “Bikini Beans”.  

You chuckle as Harry parks the car directly in front of the small building. “Quite the name, huh?”

He breathes a chuckle to himself. “It was the only coffee shop I could find within 30 miles of the beach house.”

You sigh sarcastically, “I guess it will suffice,” Harry shuts off the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition before jogging around to your side of the car to, of course, open the door for you. You smile at him as you step onto the pavement, tugging your bag from the floor of the car and slinging it over your shoulder. “Thanks.”

The two of you step into the quaint coffee shop, your senses immediately overwhelmed by the pungent odor of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a hint of sugary baked goods. Taking a moment to observe your surroundings, you find that the shop is nearly empty, save for the girl sitting in the back corner typing frantically at her laptop keys, brow furrowed, hair up, coffee cup empty. You follow Harry to the register where a young boy stands, waiting for the next customer to approach the counter, which just so happens to be you and Harry. 

“Hi, welcome to Bikini Beans, how can I help you!” He smiles, placing his hands on the edge of the register as he looks up at you. 

You smile back at him, shaking your head and motioning to Harry. “He can go first. I still need a moment to decide.”

He nods and looks at Harry. He clears his throat, “I’ll just have a small, iced black coffee,” The words roll off his accented tongue like a sugary glaze. “And a blueberry muffin.”

The boy takes a moment to type his order into the register and then looks up again, “Will that be all for you today?”

“That’s all for me, but make sure you include her order with mine.” He specifies, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. 

You smile to yourself as you peruse the menu, quietly mouthing the names of the different kinds of coffees and treats before deciding on what to get. “I’ll have a small cold brew with almond milk, sweetened with vanilla, please.”

“Is that all?” He quickly types your order into the register before glancing back up at you. You nod and he presses a few more buttons. “Alright, so I’ve got a small, iced black coffee; a blueberry muffin; and a small cold brew with almond milk and vanilla sweetener?” He looks back up at the two of you and both of you nod to confirm. “That’ll be $9.23.” 

Harry – having already taken a few bills from his wallet – hands the boy a crisp $10 bill and then promptly shoves another $10 into the tip jar beside the register. The boy smiles and thanks him for his generosity as he gives Harry his change. Without hesitation, Harry drops the remaining coins into the tip jar, thanks the boy, and stands to the side to allow the people behind you to step up to the register and order. 

“Trying to impress me?” You smirk, nudging your shoulder against his. 

He smiles, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

You chuckle and shake your head as you follow him to the end of the counter where another barista quickly prepares your drinks, sliding Harry’s muffin towards him. 

You turn to him,“I’ll go save us a table, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiles, watching you walk off towards the small table by the window, dropping your bag into the seat across from you to save it for him. 

Within five minutes, Harry is walking towards you with both your drinks in one hand and the giant mountain of a muffin in the other. 

“Was not expecting this muffin to be so big,” He chuckles as he hands you your bag and slides into the seat across from you. “You wanna split it?”

You take a sip of your coffee through the straw, the sudden grumbling of your stomach interrupting your train of thought. You hadn’t realized how hungry you are. “Oh, sure.”

He nods, slowly peeling the paper cupcake holder from the edges of the pastry before attempting to break it in half with his hands. “I guess that’ll do.” He chuckles at himself, dusting the crumbs from his fingers.

The silence that falls between the two of you is filled with nervous glances and flustered smiles as you sip your coffee between every few bites of the muffin. Your hands graze against each other occasionally when both of you reach for the muffin at the same time, causing breathless giggles to emit from the backs of your throats.  

After a brief moment of silence, you drop your hand on the table in front of you with your palm facing  up. “Give me your hand,”

“Quite demanding there, babe.” He chuckles, taking another sip of his coffee.

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring the flutter in your tummy that’s caused by the casual use of ‘babe’ in regards to you. “Just- I wanna look at your rings, so can you please give me your hand?”

He smiles, placing his large hand into your palm which allows you to lean forward and take a closer look at the rings adorning his long fingers. “Where’d you get them?” You ask as you gently brush your fingers against the cool metal. 

“Mm,” He grunts, squinting his eyes in thought for a moment. “A few friends have gifted some to me, but I also bought some myself.”

You nod, humming in acknowledgement. “I would’ve never guessed when we were younger that you’d grow up to be a jewelry guy,”

He chuckles, “And why’s that?”

You drop your hand away from his, leaning back in your chair, “I don’t know. I mean, I thought you were cool, but I didn’t think you were really capable of being this type of cool, you know? I’d always known you as just ‘Harry’, my best friend’s kinda dorky older brother who’s also good at singing.”

“You thought I was cool?”

“Yeah, sorta. You were cool in the sense that you were always so kind and loving towards Deidre, even when you were trying to be annoying. But then you became famous and this whole new level of cool happened that made me kinda sad, if I’m being honest.” He frowns at that, sipping his coffee once more. “I mean, it wasn’t necessarily a bad type of cool, but it just made me realize that you weren’t just my best friend’s older brother anymore. You were Harry Styles, heartthrob of the century, everyone loved you and nearly everyone knew who you were all of the sudden.”

“Do you think I’ve changed a lot?” He asks after a brief pause. 

“I thought you did for a while. I’d see tabloids about you every week talking about how much of a ‘lady’s man’ you were and who your newest ‘fling’ was and I didn’t know whether to believe them or not because from my perspective of you, you weren’t like that, but I also hadn’t seen you in quite a long time so I thought that maybe it was possible that you really did change that much.”

He shakes his head. “I hate how they’ve portrayed me. I hate that they’ve made me out to be some bloke who’s only in it for the money and the girls because it’s really not true. I especially hate that you’ve had to see me like that because I don’t ever want you to see me that way.”

You smile to yourself slightly, “Don’t worry, I don’t see you that way. Not anymore, at least.”

“Good,” He sighs, smiling shyly as he takes the last piece of muffin from the plate in between the two of you and pops it into his mouth. 

“I do think you’ve got a bit of an attitude problem, though.” You hum sarcastically, watching his expression twist into feigned shock.

“An attitude problem??”

“Mhm,”

“I resent that.” He huffs, pressing back against his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“There it is!” You giggle, tilting your head to the side in a mocking manner.

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, holding back a smile as he stands, snatching his coffee cup from the table along with the plate where the remains of the muffin you’d just shared lie. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got more planned for us.”

The soft jingle of a bell sounds as the two of you step into the small book store wedged between a consignment shop and a beach souvenir shop. The song “Yesterday and Today” by Yes plays quietly in the overhead speakers as the lone employee places new books on the shelves, humming along. She looks up from her place at the shelf and smiles at both of you shyly but doesn’t say a word when you smile back, opting to continue her restocking. 

Your eyes flit around the small space that’s cramped with shelves, overflowing with books and you begin to wander aimlessly. Harry follows behind you quietly, watching as your fingers trace the spines of each book you pass. 

“Do you read a lot?” He asks as you slide a paperback book from its home on the shelf just slightly above your height. 

“I try to,” You hum in response, gazing down at the open book in your hands. “But it’s difficult most of the time.”

He nods, “I understand,” He watches your fingers sift through the delicate pages of the book, the bold, typewriter text of each page, melting into each other to form a jumbled cloud of letters. “What book is that?” He asks, stepping closer to you to get a better look at it. 

“The Philosophy of Andy Warhol,” You smile, glancing up at him as you flip the book over to its cover, displaying the iconic red and white soup can design. 

His eyebrows raise in surprise, “Andy Warhol? Really? Wasn’t he a terrible person?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, he was the worst, but he’s dead now and I like to think we can separate the art from the artist, don’t you?” 

“I guess so...” He nods in response, shrugging slightly. “I’m assuming you’ve read this, then?”

You shake your head, “Not fully, just bits and pieces. I can’t really afford to buy books for pleasure at the moment.”

He frowns to himself at that but doesn’t say anything else, just watches as you place the book back onto its home on the shelf and begin to step further into the depths of bookshelves. Harry doesn’t move from where he’s standing, though, he watches you step further away before he takes the book you had just showed him from the shelf and casually holds it behind his back as he steps closer to where you are. 

He follows you around the shop as you slowly and silently observe various different books, occasionally expressing your desire to read them after flipping through each crisp page. And, again, with each book you touch, he takes them from the shelves and collects them in his arms without a single word, hoping and praying that you stay distracted enough to not notice the growing pile of books in his arms. 

Finally, the two of you have made your way through the entire store and are now standing near the register as you bury your nose into another book. Harry mumbles something to you about buying a book that he wants and you barely even acknowledge him, too engrossed in the words that flow across the pages. It isn’t until he’s back by your side that you finally lift your head to look at him, finding his dimpled, mischievous smile reflecting back at you. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, eyebrows lifting in question.

You look up at him with a smile and a nod, closing the book in your hands and placing it back in its home, completely unaware of the paper bag he’s holding behind him. He leads you out to his car, subtly tossing the bag into the back of his car without you noticing before sliding into the driver’s seat and taking both of you to your next destination. 

Eventually, you find yourselves on the beach, sitting comfortably on a blanket Harry provided along with a few containers of food from a local restaurant. There’s a decent amount of people walking around you, yet no one seems to notice Harry. Too caught up in their own vacations to notice the literal celebrity in their midst. You aren’t complaining, though, because after a few girls approached him with a request for a photo and a hug, you’ve started to grow a little jealous. But Harry doesn’t need to know that.  

“How far d’you think I’d have to swim until my feet can’t reach the bottom?” 

You turn your head to him as you stab your plastic fork into a particularly juicy piece of orange chicken. “Mmm, I’d say about-” You glare out at the people in the water, holding your hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun, “five feet past that guy in the lime green shirt.”

He turns his head to look at where you’re referring to and tilts his head to the side. “I think it’d be a little further than that, I’m pretty tall.”

You shove the piece of chicken into your mouth as you continue to stare out into the water and shrug. “The only way to really find out is if we go out there,”

He turns his face back to yours, “Let’s go, then.” 

Immediately you drop your fork onto the blanket, frantically tearing your tank top from your body as you stand and begin to unbutton your shorts. “Race ya.” You breathe through a grunt, kicking your shorts off of your bare feet and legs to reveal your black bikini. He scrambles to his feet at that, nearly ripping his shirt from his body, but you’re already taking off in a sprint towards the water. 

Harry is quick to catch up with you after a brief moment of struggling with his jeans to reveal his tiny, yellow swim shorts. He tackles you into the water, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and taking the both of you under in one giant splash. 

“Asshole!” You screech through a giggle once you resurface, swatting at his bare chest as he cackles. You turn around with a huff, trudging forward through the water with Harry hot on your tail. 

“Hey!” He calls after you, nearly hopping through the water to catch up with you. “Hop on my back, it’ll be easier.”

You smirk, turning to face him as he stands almost waist deep in the water. He crouches down to allow you easier access to wrap your arms around his shoulders and you roll your eyes at him, giving in to his persuasions nonetheless. 

Once your legs and arms are wrapped around his waist and shoulders, he stands fully and starts walking forward again. The feeling of your warm breath against his neck causes goosebumps to litter his bare, wet skin and he tries in vain to ignore the feeling of your breasts pressed directly against his back. 

“Feet still touching the bottom?” You ask, leaning your chin against his shoulder. It comes out much shakier than you’d intended, breathed directly into his ear and you can feel Harry shutter beneath you. 

“Uh- yeah, yeah, but it’s starting to get a bit deeper.” 

At this point, you couldn’t care less about the bet you’d made with him, too distracted by the warmth of his muscular back against your embarrassingly sensitive nipples. You can tell he’s partially lost interest as well, judging by the way he grips your thighs tightly as he wades further into the water.

You’ve passed the man in the lime green shirt by now, the water slowly inching up to his shoulders which indicates your possible victory. But suddenly, he takes one more step and the water is at your own shoulders and nearly over Harry’s head completely. He’s sputtering dramatically as he stumbles backwards, finding his footing once again.

“There’s a fuckin’ drop off!” He growls, bringing his hand up to wipe the salty water from his eyes. 

You’re giggling uncontrollably as he coughs and grunts, hands leaving your thighs so that he can push his hair out of his face. You slide off of his shoulders and onto the sand beneath the water, cackling to yourself at his grumpy frown. 

You smile up at him. “I win.” 

He frowns, “Well, that’s not fair! How was I supposed to know there’s a drop off?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You tease, drawing out your words as you turn back to the shore. “I still won!”

He grumbles to himself, turning to follow you. You glance back at him, chuckling at his creased brow and arms crossed over his bare chest with his bottom lip protruding into a pout. “Still don’t think it’s fair,” He huffs in frustration. 

“Okay, well, if you really want a way to redeem yourself,” You start, turning back to him and waiting for him to catch up to where you are. “Race me back to shore.” 

His frown melts into a devious smile. “Oh, you’re on.” 

Immediately, both of you are diving into the water head first, swimming as fast as you can until the water is shallow enough for the two of you to stand and bound through the water that splashes around you. Luckily, Harry’s not much of a swimmer so you’re automatically a few feet ahead of him once you start running and before you know it, you’re crashing into the towel the two of you had laid out earlier, sand kicking up in clouds all around you. 

“And she wins once again!!” You cheer, sprawling out on the towel as he trudges towards you in defeat. 

It’s nearing 4:00 pm once the two of you return back home, stumbling through the doorway giggling and playfully nudging each other with your elbows. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower before Deidre gets home,” You sigh, tossing your bag on the couch and turning to saunter towards the bathroom. Harry catches you by your hand before you can walk away, though, tugging you back to him gently. The suddenness of it nearly knocks the breath out of you as he pulls you into him, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. 

“I had a really good time today,” He hums, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. 

You take a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his lips before speaking. “Me too.”

“S’it alright if I kiss you?” 

“Yeah,” You breathe, taking another small step forward so that your chests are pressed together. 

He smiles at that, leaning in and slowly capturing your lips between his own. His other hand finds its place at the base of your spine, holding you against him as your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, his lips suckling yours ever so softly with each tilt of his head. Small, labored puffs of air leave your nose as you stand pressed against each other, each kiss building the fire within you. 

Finally, Harry pulls away, breathlessly grinning down at you and gently brushing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. You smile back, taking a long, shaky breath in an attempt to regain your thoughts before leaning in once more. 

He meets you halfway, tugging you into him again with a surging passion as he presses his lips to yours. He starts walking forward towards the wall, causing you to trip on your own feet a few times before he has you pressed firmly against it, knee wedged between your bare thighs.

“Wanted to kiss you all afternoon,” He breathes between kisses, fingers digging into the supple flesh of your hips.

You whimper quietly. “Why didn’t you?” 

“Didn’t know if you wanted me to,”

“I always want you to kiss me,”

He pauses at that, pulling away to look at you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nod, biting back a smile. “Haven’t stopped thinking about the other day on the beach.”

“Me neither.” He huffs, lunging forward to capture your lips again. 

He kisses you for just a moment longer, both hands cupping your cheeks gently as your own hands grasp his wrists. Then, he stops, slowly allowing his lips to part from yours and stepping away from you with a smirk. 

“Don’t take too long in the shower, I wanna take one too.” He winks. 

You watch him walk away after that, acting as if nothing had just happened as he disappears down the hallway. You’re breathlessly leaning against the wall, mustering every bit of strength inside of you to push yourself off of it and walk on wobbly legs to the bathroom. 

What the fuck?

It takes nearly everything inside of you not to scratch the proverbial itch of desire whilst your hands wander your naked form, but you only intended on taking a quick shower and you don’t want to raise any suspicions. So, reluctantly, you rinse yourself off beneath the steady stream of hot water before turning off the faucet and stepping out of the shower to perform your skincare routine. 

Soon, you’re scurrying into your bedroom with a towel wrapped tightly around your body, calling: “Shower’s open!” to Harry before slamming the door shut. 

As you’re pulling an old t-shirt on, you notice a brown paper bag sitting on your bed and you frown, reaching into it. It’s filled with books. A smile brims at the corners of your lips as you take each book from the bag. Every single one of them is a book you’d talked about wanting when the two of you had walked through the bookstore earlier and you can’t help but feel a small tug at your heart at the prospect of Harry actually listening to your ramblings and taking note of all the books you’d talked about wanting. 

You tuck the bag away with your things before tugging a pair of sweatpants on and stepping out into the hallway. You find yourself wandering into the kitchen, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a soda from the shelf before swinging it back closed. Just as you crack open the can of soda, the door opens and in waltzes Deidre, tossing her bag to the side. 

“Shit- Is the shower open? Really need one,” She says to you, running her fingers through her damp hair with a huff. Her dress is thrown over her figure haphazardly, damp from the wet bathing suit beneath it, indicating that she must’ve just returned from the pool or beach. 

“Harry’s in there right now, but I’m sure he’ll be done soon,” You shrug, taking a sip from the can of soda. “Did you have a good time?”

 “I had an amazing time,” She smirks as she tugs her sandals off and lets them tumble onto the floor. “I’ll explain everything later, though.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?”

She wiggles her own eyebrows suggestively, snickering with a devilish smile before disappearing into the hallway. You saunter over to the couch, taking a moment to grab the TV remote before collapsing into the cushions with your legs tucked beneath you. 

The steady stream of the shower comes to a nearly screeching halt and 5 minutes pass before the door to the bathroom swings open and out comes Harry, soaking wet with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. 

“Y’lookin’ for a movie to watch?” He asks, fingers gliding through his sopping curls as he stands in the doorway. 

“Uh-” You swallow the lump in your throat, trying in vain not to let your eyes wander to the loose edge of his towel. “Yeah. Got any requests?”

He shrugs, “I love a good Rom-Com, but I really don’t mind anything.”

You nod, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You watch as he steps into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him quietly and leaving you alone in the living room. Moments later, Deidre bounds out of your shared bedroom and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a snorted giggle. 

Scrolling through Netflix on the TV, you land on the Rom-Com section, taking a moment to look through it. Harry’s door swings open and he walks through, towelling off his long, wet hair as he saunters into the living room. He’s wearing a tight, black t-shirt and a loose pair of shorts that allow his tiger tattoo to peek through ever so slightly.  

“Find anything yet?” He asks, wrapping the towel around his neck before plopping himself down on the couch beside you.

You shake your head, glancing in his direction briefly before continuing to click through the limited options. The smell of his shampoo wafts into your direction and immediately you’re overwhelmed with the urge to tackle him on the spot, smothering him with your own mouth against his. His presence brings an animalistic side out of you and it takes everything in you not to give in, especially with the way he’d kissed you only just an hour before.

“You alright?” He interrupts your lustful train of thought, nudging his shoulder against yours. 

You clear your throat quietly, shaking your head a little. “Uh- yeah, sorry. Got distracted,” 

He smirks to himself, staring straight ahead to hide his tickled expression. “You gonna choose a movie or am I gonna have to take that remote from you and do it myself?” 

You whip your head in his direction, gaping at him as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

He giggles and lunges forward, grasping for the remote in your hand but you move quickly, yanking your hand back behind you as you scramble to the edge of the couch. You giggle obnoxiously, kicking your feet at him to keep him as far away from you as you can, but his reflexes are just as quick as yours and soon he’s grasping one of your ankles to allow him just enough leverage to tackle you. 

“Harry!” You squeal as he shoves his arms beneath you in search of the remote in your hand. He chortles down at you with a devilish smile when his nimble fingers find your wrist. Immediately, you tear your arm away from his fingers, throwing it above your head with the remote grasped tightly between your fingers. 

“Fuck- you’re fast,” He grunts, taking a moment to shake his head in defeat. His tone and words prick a familiar nerve within you and you restrain yourself from squeezing your thighs together, bottom lip slipped firmly between your teeth. 

“That’s what she said,” You retort, snorting loudly at your own joke. He rolls his eyes, pushing himself up more so that he can reach your hand, but you outsmart him once again, kneeing him in the hip and causing him to topple off of the couch and onto the carpeted floor. 

“Fuck’s sake, babe. M’gonna be black and blue by the end of this,” He groans, sitting up as he rubs his elbow with a pout on his lips.

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh, please, I was barely even trying,” You allow yourself to relax back against the couch, scrolling through the movie options once again as Harry lifts himself from the floor but before you can even process what’s happening he’s swiftly yanking the remote from your hand and plopping himself beside you. “Asshole!” You gasp, reaching back for it frantically. 

He’s chuckling devilishly under his breath, holding his long arm away from you and moving it every way you reach. “Gonna have to try harder then, I guess,” 

You clamber over him, both knees landing on either side of his legs as your fingers grasp the remote over his hand. The compromising position the two of you are in is admittedly the last thing on your mind as you scramble for the remote, but when his free hand falls to your waist, gripping you gently, a breath catches in your throat and you pause. You make eye contact with him, your faces merely inches apart and suddenly the remote doesn’t really matter anymore. 

He smiles a little, licking his lips when his eyes flicker to yours. The hand holding the remote falls onto the armrest of the couch, causing yours to fall with it. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or just keep staring at my lips?” You mutter, bringing your hand up to the side of his neck. 

“Gonna let me have the remote if I do?” 

“Fuck the remote.” You grunt before charging forward, lips colliding with his in a searing kiss. 

His arms are quick to circle your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as you hold his face between your hands, lips moving together in a symphony of uncoordinated movements. One of your hands slides down to grip his t-shirt, desperate to have him as close as possible and then suddenly, the bathroom door swings open and you’re sent leaping off of Harry, scrambling to the other end of the couch. 

Both of you are breathless and flustered as Deidre walks in, whistling to herself and completely oblivious to the way you and Harry are practically shivering at each corner of the couch. 

“Did you guys pick a movie yet?”

You clear your throat before sighing shakily. “Uh- no, not yet,” 

“Jeez,” she scoffs, “been in the shower for at least 10 minutes what the fuck have you lot been up to?” 

Heat crawls along the apples of your cheeks and you glance in Harry’s direction with a panicked look on your face. He’s flushed bright red, giving you a sheepish smile before you turn away again. Luckily, Deidre has wandered into the kitchen making herself a snack of some sort, oblivious to the way you two are looking at each other, flustered and slightly shaken by what she’d interrupted. 

“I’m really in the mood to watch The Notebook,” Deidre calls from the kitchen, popping her head through the opening and raising her eyebrows at the two of you in question. 

Harry shrugs, “I’m down,” 

“Yeah, same,” You agree, clearing your throat awkwardly as you tuck your legs beneath you. Both you and Harry are suppressing sheepish grins, barely glancing at each other out of the corners of your eyes. 

“The Notebook it is, then.” He concludes, clicking through the Netflix menu to find it. 

When Deidre returns to the living room, she comes bearing a bag of microwave popcorn, a bag of cheetos, and three cans of soda (per Harry’s request). Of course, with your luck, she decides to plop herself between the two of you, leaving you and Harry to give each other subtle looks of distaste from across the couch. And, once the movie starts, you’re forced to act as if you hadn’t just been making out with your best friend’s older brother right on this very couch. 

The movie goes by fast since it’s nearly your 4th time watching it, and for the entire 2 hour film you’re forced to sit across the length of the couch from Harry when all you want to do is cuddle into his side. A few spare glances are shared throughout the time and judging by the way his eyebrows lift, his feelings are similar to yours. Nevertheless, you persevere through the movie until the credits are rolling and tears are streaming down your face.

“You guys are seriously crying? I know you’ve both seen this movie more than once,” Deidre scoffs at both you and Harry as she turns the TV off.

“How are you not crying?” You sniffle, wiping the moisture from underneath your eyes with your hands. You glance in Harry’s direction to see the tears welling up in his eyes as he stares at her in disgust. 

She looks at him and rolls her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, you’re both just big babies,” She stands from the couch, yanking the empty popcorn bag from the coffee table in front of the couch, huffing, “I’m going to bed. You two are ridiculous.”

You watch as she walks to the kitchen, chuckling to herself before you turn back to Harry who’s laughing through his own tears. 

“We are pretty pathetic,” He snickers, pushing his hair out of his face and shaking his head. 

“No,” You huff. “We just aren’t heartless like she is.” You stand from the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and sauntering down the hallway to your bedroom. 

You find yourself getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth and performing your nightly routines just as you would every night. This time, however, the only thing on your mind is Harry. The way his hands held you so gently, lips drawing kiss after kiss from your own effortlessly as if he’d memorized every little thing that makes you shiver. The way he says your name when he speaks to you and maintains eye contact throughout every conversation, making it apparent to you that he’s listening to every word that leaves your lips. He actually cares about what you’re telling him and he speaks to you in such an attentive, selfless way. He makes you feel like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted to talk to. And, as much as you haven’t wanted to admit it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that this is more than just a crush. 

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[casualwriters]

Cupid Love Arrow | Steve Harrington. |

Summary - You never thought in ten million years that you are going on a date with fucking Steve Harrington, you were never the type who like the little Miss perfect of Hawkins, but one night out of no we're Steve asked you out and maybe you enjoyed it.

Type - Fluff

MASTERLIST

Paring - S1 Steve Harington X Nonbinary Reader. ( for male or female readers.)

unnecessary Tags - @peakyrogers @princess-kaija @iwannadeletemyself @suchababie @comebackjessica @motherofdicks

A/N - Hope yall enjoy I was in the mood for some cute fluff (:

Walking up to your Locker the fresh start of your new day in

Hawkins, You and your family moved here only a couple months ago, your mom wanted a fresh start away from the City and away from your old life so now you are here, stuck in this small country Highschool. Shutting the locker after you shoved all the books in your locker you closed it turning around to walk around the hall because there was still some free time before the Bell ring. "New kid watch out!" You heard the screaming and when that happens you turned your head to see what all the commotion was going on and before you could even move the football hit your face gulping for a second, not noticing how embarrassed you have gotten you cover your face "What the fuck?" you question turning around to see a couple boys you wiped the blood that was dripping down your noise the football still in hand, one of the guys was cute but they all looked stupid. "Here you damn ball back" You threw it at the main guy with mid force hitting him in the chest making the other boys chuckled and laugh nudging the Alpha male. "Idiots" You whisper under your breath hearing the Main male walk over to you "What your name?" The male asked he was handsome, but his hair was bigger than most of mine and god his cologne. "What do you want?" You moan hearing the bell knowing that be a good way to ignore him but he was still following you like a stalker. "Steve, um Steve Harrington" Turning around now in front of your class "y/n, now I am going take my noise that is still in pain and leave bye Steve" You scoffed entering your class.

The day had gone fast sitting on the side cigarette hanging on the left side of your lip, you were annoyed and had a shitty day getting hit by a football and all the teacher were just dicks, now putting the cherry on all of it missing your bus your mom would not be off work for another hour, she would not be happy. The door open next to you hearing A male and two females talking Oh speak of the Devil. Stomping out the Cigarette standing up to not be stuck with Prisses and Captian jock Pass for sure. Now I just got to figure out if I want to walk the five miles or call mom and wait. "Later You Two, Hey Y/n Wait up!" He yelled across the parking lot. "What Do you want? The bothersome was clearly shown on your face and You think Steve could tell but it was almost an hour after the buses left so Steve wonder why you were here all alone. "Why you all here alone?" He was actually not trying to be Cocky or an ass which was a shock for both of you. "Miss the Bus," You say swinging your bag over your shoulder Steve followed you as you were walking to head home, he was hot on your tracks and stop in front of you. "Steve do you have anything better than harass me?" You questioned ur folding your arms so you do not end up strangling the poor kid. "Why don't I give you a drive home and in return why don't you let me take you on a date" Taken off guard wasn't the only thing you felt the red crept up on your cheeks now your ending up looking at the top of your combat boots. Looking back up " A month of you being my Taxi driver and then I will go on a date with you" You said bluntly hoping he says yes because you do not want to ride that discussing bus again. Steve was a bit taken back about blunt you were but he thought it was kinda cute He smiled "I pick you up tonight It a deal! let's go" he says making you rolled your eyes "I am fucking coming," You yelled at him.

The snap of the seat belt and looking around in the car was a sweet ride but you did not want Steve's head to get too big. Sitting in there in quiet with glances from Steve part could not stop you from smiling but hid it well the day was long watching Steve pass the trees and watching the Fall leaves get crumpled under the wheels you heard Steve say "When did you come to Hawkins?" Steve asked Sitting up from laying your head down "Couple months ago from the City, mom wanted a new start so dragged me halfway across the state to Hawkins" Steve nodded "it gets a bit lonely here when you do not have any friends." He chuckled " It seemed like you are Mister Popular" Steve turned on your road but he looked at you shaking his head and he said nothing, you decided not to push him so you stayed quiet and just talk about yourself. "Don't need to answer" you smiled at him seeing that he had stopped at your house, You Grinned "see you Later Steve?" you say hanging in the window and walked inside to get ready for the date that was weird to say, maybe you don't hate him that much even if Cupid screw up a bit.

"I will be home at Ten sharped okay" You smiled at your younger siblings brush their hair out of their face and kissing them goodbye walking over to your mom with a worried glance, she has been working night shifts since we moved here and she been passing out every time her body hits the couch. "Love you, Mom." Walking out the door shutting it softly to not wake her up waving to Steve in the car but he was already out there with a bouquet of flowers, they were lovely the shock was on your face smiling "Such a romantic" You say plucking the bouquet out of his hand they were red Roses how cute. "I Adore Roses now hop in were losing the night" He teased.

"Steve, why do I have to keep my eyes closed?" You asked Steve had told you to keep your eyes closed since you got in the car and you were curious why " Oh do not ruin the surprise And no it not a party" He says with a small smile you knew Steve seemed to be Mr. Hot guy, at school and fooled all the woman but this was another side of him that you saw even if you guys just met, it not that hard to pick up on things. "You going to be the death of me" Steve poked your side making you squeaked. "Jerk," you mumbled playfully at him.

Hearing the car stop "Okay just hold on okay?" You were quite confused and wondering if this was gonna be how you die, like in one of those horror movies, you really hoped it wasn't "Is this when I die Steve?" You heard the door open Steve chuckled "If your lucky you won't die." Steve help you out of the car feeling his arms wrapped your race goosebumps came across your arms and He smiled "Open them" You were taken back you could see all of Hawkins from you, "Steve it stunning" you say You Lean on the car saying "My worries seem to be gone when I am up here and of course with you" you teased. "Is your mother okay" Steve could tell it was not just the nerves of the date that was bothering them and the drapes were open. "She been working a lot, Me and my siblings have to take the bus to school I am sorry you did not hear to listen to this.'' A shy whisper came from your lips Jumping to sit on the front of the car Steve shakes his head sitting on the car with you, Looking at you seeing that you were wrapping your arms around your shoulder, "Come here you idiot" He teased taking the demi jacket off and t slipping it over your shoulders. "Tell me what up?" He asked knowing that since you got in the car ride you have been deep in your head he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Taking a large sigh "My mother lost our farther only three years, ago but he always treated her like complete shit" You grew angry just thinking by it your fists curled Steve seeing that has he moved closer putting his hand over your red knuckles. "He drinks too much, I always had to take care of my siblings, my mom was working two jobs and my dad was out at multiple bars." Huffing thinking this was the normal laying On the car. Steve just stared at you in Awe you looking at the stars he was content this way and that was okay. "Steve come lay down" you Snicker at the young man tugging at his hand like nothing you just said bother you. " My Folks are never there I know it was nothing like what happens to you but staying in that big house all alone fucking sucks". Nodding keeping your eyes on the stars pointing to one and another. "It, not a completion every story has a their tragic story" Steve saw you leaning your head on his shoulder seeing you relax in his arms. Wrapping his arm around you nodding and enjoying the silence. "Maybe we should do this again," Steve says looking toward you.

Smiling at Steve " Maybe we should Uh".

[theoswriting]

lavender, honey and coconut (e.p. x fem!r)

summary:  Penelope Garcia can sniff out secrets like a cute security dog can sniff out drugs. y/n had been amused but had brushed off the warning. That had been her first mistake.

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

word count: 4k

a/n: okay, this is my first time writing for cm and emily prentiss, so I hope it isn’t too ooc! this is definitely a different vibe to the show lmao, i mostly wrote this to amuse myself, and then decided it might be worth sharing. I hope you’lll enjoy it xo (tell me if u do, i’m nervous)

warnings: some alcohol is consumed, light swearing

ao3

Penelope Garcia can sniff out secrets like a cute security dog can sniff out drugs.

It's a well-known fact that if you want to keep something hidden, one, you don't tell Garcia because she's incapable of keeping anything secret and two, don't breathe near her because she will be able to figure out that you're hiding something, and she will know which buttons to push to get you to spill everything.

Penelope likes to think that in another life, she would've made a great interrogator. In this life though, she uses her powers to get what she wants out of her friends.

This was one of the first things y/n found out when she joined the BAU. Derek spoke about the tech goddess' powers with reverence while the rest of them spoke of it with fear. Even Hotch seemed a little disconcerted by the whole thing.

y/n had been amused but had brushed off the warning.

That had been her first mistake.

***

Paperwork days were the worst.

y/n should probably love them more because if she's stuck behind her desk, it means that no one is out there getting brutally murdered. Still, it's a lot less exciting. It doesn't help that the bullpen is oddly quiet, everyone focused on their files. Spencer is going through his about a mile a minute, stopping from time to time to rewrite something or to look up some kind of information. Derek is slower and y/n can almost see the boredom oozing out of him. Yet, he doesn't look up when she looks over at him and keeps diligently going through his notes.

Finally, her eyes land on Emily. Her head is propped up on her left hand as she writes with the right. Occasionally, she will bite her nails as she focuses hard on part of her notes. y/n thinks she looks extra cute when she frowns, trying to understand her own writing. It makes y/n smile before refocusing on her own work.

y/n is almost done with one of her reports when she notices some missing information. She could easily look it up herself, but she's bored and this is the perfect excuse to get away from her desk for a bit. So she stands up, gathers her papers and walks to her favourite tech genius' lair.

y/n opens the door and sees Penelope's back turned to her. Before she can say anything, Garcia's voice rings out.

"Well if it isn't my favourite ray of sunshine, what can I do for you, y/n?"

y/n smiles at the blonde's greeting, as she sits down next to her, "Are you busy?"

"Not at all!"

"Great, I'm missing some information on this file, but most importantly, I'm in dire need of entertainment."

Garcia happily grabs the file from y/n and starts tapping away at her computer, putting up the information she needs on her screen in no time. She prints it all out and hands it to y/n with a flourish.

"Here's the info you need," She starts, but her eyes quickly turn regretful, "Sadly, I have no recent office gossip to entertain you with."

y/n pouts at that, "Damn, not even from Slutty David?"

Penelope shakes her head and opens her mouth to speak when she suddenly frowns at y/n. She pulls back slightly and y/n wonders if she'd forgotten to put on deodorant that morning. Penelope says nothing, just watches her.

"What?" y/n finally asks, unnerved by the staring.

"What are you not telling me?" Garcia asks simply and it's y/n's turn to frown. She can't think of anything that she might be hiding from her friend.

"Nothing?"

y/n is pretty sure that's the wrong answer and that Penelope is going to keep asking her questions until she confesses to something she didn't even know she was hiding. To her surprise though, Garcia only stares at her for a few more seconds before dropping it. As quick as it disappeared, her bright smile is back on her face and she goes back to telling a story.

It turns out that yes, she did have something to tell y/n about Slutty David.

y/n leaves Penelope about twenty minutes later with a refreshed brain, ready to get back to work. When she gets back to her desk, Emily looks up to give her a smile. y/n smiles back and winks at her as she sits down. Emily's smile broadens before she turns her focus back to the file in front of her.

y/n does the same, her smile staying even while going through an autopsy report. It's only hours later when y/n is almost done with paperwork that she freezes. She looks up at Emily and realizes.

That's what she's been hiding.

She frowns. There's no way Garcia knows that though, she and Emily have made sure, they've been careful.

Yeah, it was probably a fluke.

***

Mornings where she gets to wake up next to Emily are y/n's favourites. Even the early ones, when they get called in for a case, having Emily next to her makes it all easier.

That's what happens that morning, both of their phones going off at 5:45 am. Emily is the one to reach for her phone while y/n latches onto her and drops a kiss on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"It's JJ. We have to go in."

y/n nods and painstakingly opens her eyes. She drops another kiss on Emily's shoulder and turns away from her to get up, but before she can go too far, Emily reaches for her and kisses her. y/n scrunches up her nose even though she's smiling into the kiss.

"Morning breath. Gross," She manages to mutter against Emily's lips.

"Don't care."

y/n had wondered when they started dating if it would get to a point where it'd be too much to be together and then work together as well. Now, six months into their relationship, y/n knows she had worried over nothing. They have a system and boundaries. They keep the PDA to a minimum at work, which isn't a problem considering they had decided to keep their relationship a secret from the team. It's not that Prentiss and y/l/n don't trust their coworkers, it's more than they don't want to screw up the group's dynamics.

And it's also ridiculously funny to see how long it's taking a whole group of profilers to figure out that two members of their team are dating.

After getting dressed, y/n starts packing a new bag, taking clothes from the one drawer Emily had emptied out and gifted to her on their 2 months anniversary. Emily had a similar one at y/n's place. Considering their jobs and the amount of time they spent at each other's place, they figured it was smart to always have enough clothes at each other's place for instances like these.

Not even 10 minutes later, they're out of the door. They kiss one last time before Emily gets into her car and y/n gets into hers. As usual, y/n takes the long way to work, her place being famously further away than Emily's. So when she finally gets to the conference room, everyone is already there and waiting for Hotch.

y/n sits in between Derek and Spencer, "Good morning, my people!"

"It certainly is not," Hotch deadpans as he enters the room. y/n closes her mouth and nods to herself. She should've seen that one coming.

The others chuckle quietly, but the laughter quickly dies. Hotch was right. This is far from a good morning.

The murders are gruesome, the victims are all women which bear a striking resemblance to Emily. y/n doesn't bring attention to it, it wouldn't bring anything to the case except worry over a detail that isn't of much importance, at least not right now. Instead, she watches her girlfriend look at the pictures, and by the way her jaw clenches and unclenches repeatedly, she's come to the same realization.

"Alright everyone, wheels up in 20." Hotch dismisses them, and almost everyone rushes out of the room to get their bags. Garcia stays behind though, and so does Emily. y/n gathers her stuff slowly then, waiting for Garcia to leave the room so she can have a moment alone with her girlfriend.

Garcia doesn't leave, though.

She's staring at y/n ominously. She's missing a furry cat to be petting and she'd look like a supervillain from a cheesy action movie. y/n tries smiling at her, but the blonde doesn't respond in the slightest.

y/n leaves the room. She'll check up on Emily before take-off. She is big enough to admit that she was a little freaked out by Garcia.

She thinks nothing of it until hours later, when she's setting up their evidence board in a small town in buttfuck, Texas. JJ is standing next to her, writing the name of the second victim.

"Garcia has been asking about you."

It's such a weird thing to say that y/n is a bit taken aback. She pauses and slowly turns to look at JJ, "Uhm… Okay?"

JJ puts the cap on the pen and turns to y/n, her face probably too serious for whatever this is about.

"Remember when we told you about Garcia's weird ability to tell when someone is hiding something juicy?" y/n nods, still confused as to where this is going, "Well, she's smelt whatever it is that you're hiding."

y/n briefly wonders if no one is bothered by the constant comparison of Garcia to a literal hound dog, but apparently not. She lets out a small chuckle and nods at JJ, clearly not believing the warning tone the blonde had used, "Yeah, okay, I'll sleep with one eye open."

"y/n, I'm serious," JJ lowers her voice and looks around before confiding, "Penelope is the reason the whole team knows I had a one night stand with Slutty David."

"You had sex with Slutty David?"

JJ shudders, "Everybody makes mistakes."

***

y/n tells Emily about JJ's warning as they cuddle into bed that same night, exhausted from a day of leads getting them nowhere. To her surprise, Emily agrees with JJ.

"Garcia has a way of getting you to admit to things you thought you'd never say out loud."

The way she talks about it has y/n looking up from her very comfortable spot on Emily's shoulder to her girlfriend's face. She's staring off in the distance as if haunted by whatever it is that Garcia had dug up on her.

"What the hell did she find out about you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

***

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

It's Saturday night and they're out at a club for a Girl's night. After the case they'd had, they deserved a night to unwind. They've chosen a bar where the music is loud, but not loud enough to drown out Penelope's question. JJ and Emily are gone, lost somewhere in the crowd fighting for the bartender's attention, in search of more drinks. As y/n's brain finally processes what Garcia has just asked, she fights the urge to smile and look for Emily.

y/n has drunk enough to be on the dumb side of gay.

"Why do you ask?"

"Answering a question with another question, very telling," Garcia smirks.

Penelope seems oddly composed for someone who is two cocktails and three shots deep into the party. Usually, a drunk Garcia means sloppy kisses on the cheek and getting her away from attractive strangers before she can say anything overtly sexual or inappropriate. So something doesn't add up. y/n squints her eyes at the blonde in front of her, like that will somehow help her see things clearer.

It doesn't. Everything looks fuzzy and she probably should stop drinking.

"I'm not."

The lie tastes gross in y/n's mouth and if there's one thing that could make her feel better, it would be kissing Emily. Before she can stop it, a smitten smile makes its way onto her face. Garcia slams a hand on the table, making y/n jump. She focuses her eyes on Penelope who's pointing an accusing finger at her.

"There! Who did you just think about?"

y/n sputters, racking her brain for a more convincing lie but she can't stop smiling so she gives in. Damn her inability to lie when she's drunk.

"Okay, fine" y/n amends, "I am seeing someone, but please keep it quiet."

Penelope obviously does not keep quiet. Instead, she squeals loud enough that she startles a few people passing by their table. Of course, that's also the moment JJ and Emily pick to come back.

So when Garcia basically yells, "I knew it!" for the whole bar to hear, there's no way y/n is getting out of this one.

"Knew what?" Emily asks with a smile as she puts down a drink in front of y/n. She immediately grabs it, thinking that maybe if she blacks out, this conversation will also be erased from the history of the universe.

"y/n is seeing someone!" Penelope happily informs the two recently arrived. JJ whips her head, excitement filling her eyes, about a million questions fighting to be asked first. Emily, for her part, chokes on her drink.

"Why haven't you told us anything?" JJ says, her blue eyes even more glassy than usual, "Who is it?"

y/n shrugs, going for a nonchalant vibe. She goes with something vague.

"You don't know her."

Penelope's smile widens, "Oh, so it's a her."

Shit. Not vague enough.

What follows are a series of questions that y/n refuses to answer and thankfully, with Emily there to mediate, they manage to change the subject. Seriously, y/n could kiss her right then and there. Instead, she takes a sip of her drink and glances towards Emily. They decide to leave less than an hour later. JJ is about one sip away from taking her top off while y/n is just about ready to throw caution to the wind and start making out with Emily. To hell with consequences.

Penelope is still suspiciously acting sane.

"Oh, Pen, be careful, someone dropped their drinks right behind your chair."

JJ's heads up makes y/n glare at Garcia who looks a little too guilty.

***

When they get back to Emily's place, y/n barely waits until the front door is closed before kissing Emily. Emily welcomes it, blindly throwing away the keys to wrap both hands around her girlfriend's neck. The kissing is sweet, the taste of their last drinks still sticking to their mouths. It's a little messy due to the fact they're both smiling like two goddamn idiots in love. When they stop, Emily grabs y/n by the hand and drags her to the kitchen so they can both drink water to make their hangovers hopefully less painful in the morning.

They're almost done when Emily speaks.

"We have a problem."

y/n stops moving. She should've known this moment would come.

"Listen, if this is about the burnt toaster, I've already ordered a new one."

"Garcia- What?" Emily turns around to look at the spot where her toaster usually rests, "What happened?"

Realizing her mistake, y/n puts her empty glass of water down and wraps her arms around Emily's waist, "Nothing you need to worry about," Emily looks back at her girlfriend who looks too innocent, "What were you going to say?"

"Garcia knows you're with someone."

y/n nods slowly, wondering where Emily is going with this. She doesn't see any problems. Sure, Penelope knows that she might be sort of taken by a woman, but that's it. Even in her drunken state, she'd managed to keep any other incriminating details to herself.

"Garcia has a way of finding things out, it's only a matter of time until she puts two and two together."

Emily looks genuinely fearful and y/n wonders again, what kind of dirt Penelope had gotten Emily to disclose. She thinks back to JJ's warning as well. y/n turns it over in her head, but in the end, she scoffs and leans up to kiss Emily.

"Don't worry, babe. I'll make up a fake break up or something and we'll be fine."

Thinking she could fool Penelope Garcia so easily was y/n's second mistake.

***

Derek is getting himself coffee when y/n swiftly approaches him from the side.

"What secret did Garcia get out of Emily?"

"Which time?"

"There's more than one?"

"Oh yeah."

***

The whole thing with Garcia does make y/n and Emily reconsider telling the team, or at the very least, Hotch and HR.

They hadn't at first because of team dynamics, but mostly because they themselves were figuring out how they worked as a couple. It turns out they worked great, and hiding each other from their coworkers and best friends was getting a bit much for the both of them.

They wanted to show up at Rossi's dinner parties together without worrying about what their friends would think. y/n wanted to hold Emily's hand after a rough case on the jet without it being questioned, just as much as Emily wanted to drive with y/n to work every morning and walk into the building together.

So the next morning, Emily and y/n get to work before anyone else and walk into Hotch's office.

He doesn't have much of a reaction, not that they were expecting anything more.

What does surprise them is that, after giving them the whole speech about professionalism and whatnot, he smiles at them and says, "I'm happy for you both."

Aaron Hotchner smiles at them and y/n feels like her relationship has just been blessed by the angels from above.

***

"Hey, Spence? Do you know what Garcia dug up on Emily?"

"Emily sprained her wrist a few years back and told us that it had happened at the range. It turns out that she'd sprained it falling from her skateboard."

"Her skate- What?"

***

When y/n had told Emily they'd be fine, she wasn't being cocky, but she just knew that there was no way Garcia would suspect something with how careful they had been.

They never showed up together at work. At first, they always timed their arrivals carefully, until it became second nature. They were never overly affectionate with each other. If they needed to be comforted during a particularly hard case, they'd wait to be behind the closed doors of the hotel room they shared on most trips. As much as y/n wanted to, she never showed up to work wearing one of her girlfriend's sweaters, no matter how warm and comfortable they were.

Bottom line was, there was no reason for Garcia to suspect anything when their teammates who were literal profilers hadn't caught onto anything.

No one except Hotch knew. And only because they'd told him, so.

y/n should've known though, from being a profiler herself, that being too confident meant she was bound to slip up and make a mistake sooner rather than later.

It all happens very quickly.

JJ asks y/n if she can grab a couple of files she had left with Garcia and bring them back to her because she was waiting for someone to call and she couldn't go too far. y/n, of course, accepts, always happy to get away from her desk and the paperwork begging for her attention. She quickly knocks on Garcia's door before entering and the tech doesn't turn around as she greets her.

"Bonjour, Emily, what brings you to Casa Garcia today?"

y/n chuckles at the blonde's eccentricities, "Sorry, but you got it wrong, it's me."

Penelope rolls her chair around to face her and she looks truly distraught to have gotten it wrong, "But I always get it right. I'm the all-knowing Penelope Garcia."

y/n gently pats her shoulder as she reaches past her to some files she sees on the desk, "Are these JJ's? She asked me to get them for her."

Garcia nods, but she still looks defeated at having failed to guess her visitor's identity, so y/n tells her she'll come by later with some coffee for a chat. Penelope nods and turns her attention back to her computer and so she leaves.

It's funny, y/n thinks, that of all the people Penelope could have confused her with, it was Emily. Maybe some of Emily's fears had planted themselves into her brain unbeknownst to her because y/n suddenly feels very uneasy. Why did Pen think it was Emily walking in? Had she unconsciously started walking like her girlfriend? No, no, that was ridiculous. Emily had a very distinctive gate that was very different from y/n's.

Still, something is off. y/n trusts her gut, it has never failed her, and her gut is telling her something is off.

She doesn't know what though. She had woken up with Emily that morning and they'd actually had time to enjoy a nice breakfast together and had plenty of time to get ready together. In fact, they had even gotten to enjoy a very pleasant shower together. y/n smiles at that particularly good memory until she realizes.

"Shit," she mutters, but not quietly enough. She's standing in the middle of the bullpen, her coworkers' eyes on her. Before she can tell herself that it's fine, that she was just paranoid and that there was no way Penelope had noticed, she hears a familiar but hurried clicking of heels approach the bullpen. y/n turns around to see Penelope standing on the other side of the glass window and one look at her is all y/n needs.

She knows.

Before Garcia can make her way inside the bullpen and bring mayhem with her, y/n hastily makes her way to her. She drops JJ's files on her desk haphazardly under Derek, Emily and Spencer's bewildered eyes. When she gets to Penelope, she gently grabs her by the arm and urgently leads her away.

"You smell like lavender!" Penelope exclaims with no preamble, "You usually don't smell like lavender, you smell of honey and coconut, but never lavender and that's why I got confused!"

y/n confidently nods in greeting at an agent passing by Garcia's office as y/n shoves her inside. He looks unsettled but only smiles in return, preferring to ignore whatever is going on. Smart man.

"That's why I thought you were Emily! Because Emily is the one who smells of lavender!" Penelope is pacing while y/n stands with her back to the door.

"Okay, Pen, I need you to breathe," She says when the techie is still going on about lavender, honey and coconut.

"Breathe? How can I breathe when you and Emily are dating."

y/n thinks that's a bit dramatic, but Garcia has finally stopped pacing and talking. y/n slowly steps towards the blonde and puts both of her hands on her shoulders. She debates for a few seconds, wonders if she'd get away with a lie but at this point, y/n's pretty sure the cat is out of the bag.

"Yeah, Emily and I are together."

y/n should've been prepared for it, but when Garcia lets out a high pitched squeal, it still gets her by surprise. Her pained grimace is quickly chased away by laughter when Penelope hugs her with all the strength and excitement caffeine was providing her.

"This is so great, I'm so happy for you two!" She lets you go long enough to see the smile that's made its way onto her face. It's the same smitten smile she always gets whenever she thinks about Emily and Garcia honest to god pinches her cheeks, "Aww, look at that smile!"

y/n laughs and tries to get her cheeks away from anymore pinching. That's when the door opens enough for Emily to sneak her head in, "Hey you two, is everything okay?"

She looks at Penelope first, but her eyes end on y/n. Before she can say anything though, Penelope smirks, "Why yes, lover, everything is just fine."

At that, Emily gets in and closes the door behind her. She looks at y/n for confirmation.

y/n just nods, "Yeah, she knows."

"You bet your sweet ass I know!"

And with no further warning, Penelope tackles Emily in a hug much as she'd done with y/n minutes prior. When she lets her go, Emily steps closer to y/n, and with a hand on her lower back, she says, "I told you she'd find out."

y/n ignores the I told you so her girlfriend apparently couldn't wait to give her, but yeah, she's not wrong.

It'll teach her to ever doubt the abilities of the all-knowing Penelope Garcia.

***

Months and months later, y/n meets up with Penelope for brunch on a Sunday morning. Before she can even greet her, the blonde fixes her with a stare that is both strange but oh so very familiar.

"What are you planning?"

This time, y/n grins and tells Garcia not to worry, that she'll know in due time. After all, she can only hide the little velvet box in her coat pocket and its content for so long.

***

[fantasticfemmefatale]

Cold- Spencer Reid

not my gif

SUMMARY: reader is kinda bad at dealing with cold weather lmao, Spencer is rlly sweet, and everyone is happy for once in their trauma-filled lives. i live for this man. there’s some slight emily x reader if you use a microscope, i guess.

WARNINGS: fluff, canon atypical happiness, there’s this one homophobe in it, they should burn

Cold.

It was cold.

Had you left a window open? 

No, the window on your side of the bed was still firmly shut.

Why was it so cold?

You rolled over, on the couch, eyes screwed shut, half desperate for his warmth although you’d promised you’d give him space, after you were nearly on top of him when you two woke up last time.

Oh.

That’s why it was cold.

Sliding out of bed and grabbing your fuzzy robe off the floor, you somehow managed to make it out of the room while only tripping once. You wanted to laugh at him, tell him depressed elephant who? I am graceful after all, loser! However, gloating in his face required having his face nearby.

Where was he?

You thought back to those crappy stories you’d heard from Emily of sleazy guys in bars who’d scramble for a hook up then leave a girl high and dry before sunrise. But he couldn’t do that if you hadn’t hooked up, right? If he was just a friend who’d come knocking at your door at 8:43 for your biweekly movie night, then got stuck at your apartment because of the storm? Although, you wished he was more than a friend.

A sharp hiss resounded from the kitchen, followed by the faucet running, as you padded in. 

“Spence?”

His head shot up fast, like a puppy caught dragging trash through the house. He shut off the faucet with his right hand, and reached for a towel to dry his left as he spoke.

“(Y/N). Hi. Hotch called me saying we had a case, and I told him you were here with me so he didn’t need to call you, and I just thought I’d make you coffee before I woke you up,” he explained with a small, tired smile and equally tired eyes.

“Did you burn yourself?” you questioned, remembering the commotion when you’d walked in.

“Uh, yeah.”

You laughed slightly, one of those sharp nose exhales accompanied by a half smile when you just can’t laugh at the moment. Frankly, you were far too exhausted. You took the mug he was holding outstretched towards you with a grateful smile, returning to your room to get dressed. The warm mug contrasted deliciously with the cold air of your apartment. You didn’t need to tell Spencer that he could change in the bathroom if he needed to; he already knew. After the first time you’d been called in to work while Spencer was staying over, you’d developed a system. He brought his go-bag over with him, leaving it next to the door along with his Converse that you always said made him look like he was still 12. He’d bring two extra pairs of clothes to leave at your apartment, one for when you left and another, comfier pair for your return. Then, he’d gather anything he’d left in your apartment and walk down to his own. It was funny, honestly, how his apartment was just three floors down from your own and yet he refused to leave his stuff there. He’d ramble on about how but leaving my stuff at your apartment saves 9 minutes and 27 seconds, and that’s time we could be spending saving lives, and-

You left your room, dressed in black skinny jeans, combat boots, and an army green long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows at the same time Spencer exited the bathroom in Converse, brown pants, a vest, and a button-down shirt. No words were spoken as you two grabbed your duffels from where they were sitting near your door, and Spencer grabbed his messenger bag as well, slinging it over his shoulder in the most uncoordinated way possible while simultaneously trying to open your door, resulting in him on the floor with a loud grunt. You laughed, loud and clear, and you grabbed his wrist and helped him to his feet, opening the door and locking it securely behind you.

The bullpen was colder than your apartment had been, you thought with a shiver as you walked in, with Spencer falling into step behind you. Still slightly groggy and nursing the coffee from Spencer- which you’d transferred to an insulated water bottle prior to leaving- you stayed quiet through Penelope’s run-down of the case and Hotch’s typical wheels up in 30. 

On the plane, you sat on the couch with Spencer, careful to leave an inch between you two. In the two years you’d known each other, he’d warmed up enough that you could touch him some, but you tried not to do anything more than the occasional hug or shoulder pat when the time called for it. Right now, nothing was calling except sleep. Just by looking outside the window, you swore you could practically feel the frigid night air of Wisconsin, the lovely location of today’s deranged criminal, a kidnapper. When you voiced your feelings about the cold to Spencer, he spewed facts from who-knows-where about different places the air could possibly get into the plane, meaning you weren’t just making up the feeling. You listened attentively, knowing how much it meant to him when he didn’t get cut off for once. After all, he just wanted to help.

The plane landed, and you were the first one out.

Cold.

It was cold.

And you forgot a jacket, idiot.

Morgan chuckled as he passed by you, clad in a t-shirt, no less, saying, “Cold, baby?”

“As if.”

You were in an interrogation room. 

It was less cold than the rest of the precinct, but still chilly.

The woman in front of you, a blond, small thing, looked to be no less than 20. And yet, she was kidnapping the children she babysat for after their parents returned, then trying to pass them off as her own. She was kidnapping the children of same-sex couples, a religious fanatic who believed that being anything but straight was worse than murder. Wow.

Screw homophobes.

Honestly, the case had wrapped itself up fairly well, complete with a glittery red bow, once Penelope- thank god- had figured out that each family had used the same babysitter at least once. Rebecca Umbrige. To be fair, the team had spent a while focusing on the same-sex couples aspect of it, only to change paths after all that turned up from that was dead ends. Then Rebecca came into the picture and brought everything together nicely. 

With that red bow, of course.

Still, one more thing was needed.

A confession.

Emily was in the interrogation room with you, watching as you took the lead. You were hoping to get something out of her through subtle hints at attraction between you two, and it worked, eventually.

All it took was holding Emily’s hand. Sad.

Emily laughed as Rebecca was dragged out of the room in handcuffs, earning her a stern look from Hotch when the two of you left as well.

Ugh, why did the rest of the precinct have to be so cold?

The plane ride home was uneventful, and so was leaving the bullpen after the last of the paperwork was finished, just before midnight three days after you’d left. Until, at least, Spencer jogged up to you, brown curls waving wildly in the D.C. wind, asking, “Wanna go out?”

“Like a date?” you asked, incredulous. If it was a date though, you wouldn’t  be upset. You’d had a not-so-small and not-so-sneaky crush on him for almost the entire time you’d known him.

He stopped suddenly, speaking so fast it was a miracle he could get the words out at all.

“Slow down, Spence.”

“I just meant, maybe we could go get hot chocolate, or coffee, or whatever, and then just walk around D.C. or something? I don’t think I can sleep right now,” he blurted, brown doe eyes watching you expectantly in that way that made your heart flutter.

“I’m cold”, you said, almost pouting like a child.

He laughed for a second at that. “We can stop by your apartment first and change if you want.”

26 minutes later, according to Spencer, the two of you arrived at the doorstep of a slightly shady 24-hour coffee shop that Waze had been all too happy to lead you to. After getting some surprisingly good lattes, you two wandered aimlessly around D.C., occasionally bumping shoulders from how close you were. He’d tell you the history behind different buildings and monuments you passed, and you’d interrupt every few minutes because oH MY GOD SPENCE THAT HOUSE LOOKS LIKE A FACE!, or, LOOK THAT CLOUD LOOKS LIKE A BUTT! 

Spencer laughed every time you got distracted, letting his eyes linger just a few seconds too long on your face when it lit up like a kid’s on Christmas, wanting to commit your face without stress, or fear, or anger to memory. Moments like these didn’t come often in your line of work.

When you realized it was starting to snow, Spencer swore he’d never seen you look this stunning, bundled up in one of his sweaters that you’d stolen months ago, with rosy cheeks and a red nose to match, eyes glimmering with excitement and lips spread wide in a smile and you spun around, eyes on the sparkling sky above. 

Eventually, he said, “(Y/N)?” in a voice barely above a whisper.

Your head whipped around, and you stopped suddenly, all your attention focused on Spencer, something that never failed to make him feel cared for. “Yeah?”

He didn’t answer, instead slowly reaching out to hug you, the first physical contact between you he’d ever initiated. His arms around your waist were uncertain, and he haltingly rested his head on your shoulder, thankful you couldn’t see him grinning like an idiot. As soon as you hugged back, he pulled you in closer in a bone-crushing hug that you could’ve sworn made time stop. 

“(Y/N)?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I know I said this wasn’t a date, but if you wanted it to be one, maybe it could be one?”

“I’d like that, Spencer.”

Cold.

It was cold.

But with Spencer holding onto you like there was no tomorrow, you were much, much warmer.

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[ellewords]

Hi Elle! It's been quite awhile since I dropped by. Uni has been so hectic 😩 There are so many writers too who aren't as active now due to uni workload. Well anyhow, I saw you have another written on the margins abt first dates, and I hope youre doing well! Here goes Ushijima on your first date

▪︎Let's be real, awkward as heck, but you see him trying tho 🥺

▪︎Prior to your date, he asks you to dress up✨ (gives you a hint that it'll be prddy fancy 😬)

▪︎Fetches you at your house, and you see him all lookin a little more dashing than the usual 🥵

▪︎When you finally settle in his car, he reaches for the back seat and brings out a beautiful boquet of roses surrounded by carnations 💐

▪︎Gives it to you with a small, nervous smile 😩 but ofc you love it! So you thank him, and see him exhale through his mouth, all relieved and has a soft smile as he starts the car engine and holds the steering wheel. Then he looks back at your blushing face and gives you a reassuring smile

▪︎He brings you to the restaurant of a 4 star hotel because our man's a heck of a spoiler 😌

▪︎You knew you needed to break the ice more since the guy is kimda clueless but still he still would want you to have a good time nevertheless,. So he tries to answer your questions and attempts to ask things about you as well. There's something about his little awkwardness that makes him more charming <3 he tries real good okay 🥺

▪︎You had a great dinner but, even a greater drive home. The both of you were more comfortable in the car, rather in that fancy place. So there were a number of jokes, giggling, soft laughters, and ice breakers.

▪︎He steps at the break pedal and you're now infront of your house, both peeking at your home.

▪︎You look back at him but he was already looking at you. "Thank you so much for tonight, Toshi" you say with a soft genuine smile. "I really had a great time, and these flowers are beautiful. Thank you."

▪︎Still holding your gaze, he responds "Thank you for allowing me to take you out y/n. I had a wonderful night..." His smile grew just a tad bigger "...with a wonderful girl."

▪︎You couldn't hold his gaze anymore and eyes wondering at the ground and other psrts of the car since you got so flustered. You just give him a shy smile, looking at him under you lashes, while he's still looking and admiring your beautiful face.

▪︎He pecks your forehead "Good night, beautiful." 💜

▪︎You gracefully get out of his car, and when you're inside your house, you practically run to your room bec you're basically screaming inside and loosing all your screws 🥴😫😵

-👒

— from elle ! okay you can’t keep making me imagine ushi in those outfits because i will actually scream >_< i just know he would look so so good ugh what do i have to do to get an ushijima in my life ??? literally what ?? because i will actually do it :<< anyways, thoughts + additions ( i’m picking up where you left off for this one ) under the cut as usual :)) tysm for sending this in and i hope you are having a lovely day and uni isn’t treating you too terribly <33

notes : timeskip!ushijima x f!reader, headcanons, pure fluff, wc: ~0.5k

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

okay so while you are screaming into a pillow, dancing around your room, trying to find a vase for the bouquet he gave you, ushijima is freaking out just as much, though not exactly outwardly or directly

like the true gentleman he is, ushijima waits for you to enter your home before actually leaves your street ; baby boy just wants to make sure you get back inside okay

anyways, ushijima doesn’t strike me as the type to go up to a stranger, or someone he’d only just met, and ask them out on a date. no, he has to have liked you for a while now. so him asking you out on that date is the culmination of months of pent up emotions and trying to convince himself that what he felt towards you didn’t go beyond friendship.

which is why he spent the entirety of his drive home with a small smile on his face, replaying the events of the night in his head : the way you looked in that dress, the conversations the two of you had, the way you smiled when he kissed your forehead

for a while, he never really got what the phrase “butterflies in the stomach” could possibly mean. but after your first date, he understood it perfectly ; the way you made him feel like he was floating on air, the way his heart fluttered.

ushijima would be the type to turn his phone off during the date, wanting all of his attention on you alone. so when he finally gets home and turns it on for the first time that night, he’s immediately greeted with tons of text messages.

a lot of which were from the adlers’ groupchat, his teammates asking how his date went. ushijima never really told them directly that he was interested in you, his teammates kind of just knew every time you would come and watch them practice or go to one of their games that you were basically off limits ; hoshiumi tried flirting with you once and oooof—-

anyways, he texts the team back with that same giddy smile he wore on the drive home but now it’s coupled with a light blush on his cheeks as he recounted the general details of the date ; he uses emojis (that isn’t the smiley face or the thumbs up) for the first time and that’s how the team knew his night went well.

even as he prepares for bed, he’s still thinking of you, already preparing on how he’s going to ask for a second date. listen, it would break his heart if this was just a one time thing :(

but luckily for him, it isn’t. you text him just before he goes to sleep, inviting him out on a second date, maybe something more casual or just a nice, quiet night in. a grin spreads across his face, immediately agreeing

needless to say, his dreams that night were the sweetest — all of them filled with you <3

tldr; ushijima date me challenge.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like on a first date?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​ @aoirohi @kokogxddess

join my hq taglist here. <3