#b99 imagines

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“Hold the elevator!”

The officer in front of you pressed the open button but since you had your headphones on you couldn’t hear a thing. Jake walked into the elevator and you guessed he thanked the officer, he stood next to you.

He looked over at you and saw that you had no intention to remove the headphones he just waved and gave you a smile, you did the same. He could barely hear the music you were playing. Of course, Jake being the nosy person he is he wanted to know so he could bond with you.

But that didn’t happen in the elevator because the ride was short. To his luck he was partnered with you on a case and that gave him the advantage to bond with you.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He started when he approached your desk.

Your raised your head leaving the case file for a few minutes to give him your full attention.

“Yeah?”

“What were you listening to in the elevator this morning? I swear it was familiar.” He made a thinking face, like he was trying to remember the song even though he didn’t hear anything at all.

“Oh just some songs on a playlist I’m not sure.” you brushed him off because you knew his intentions and you didn’t want him to act crazy.

“Maybe you could send me the playlist?” he suggested hoping.

“When I get a breather.” You smiled then excused yourself.

After a full day you and Jake both agreed on a steak out, thinking it was the best choice to gather info before going in hot. You two were in your car.

“Why don’t we listen to something?” he of course turned on your music and the first thing he heard was ‘But I knew you, dancing in your Levi’s’

He gasped “You’re a swiftie?” with and open mouth and wide eyes.

You rolled your eyes “Yes, Jake I’m a swiftie.” You answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out but apparently you are.” you answered honestly.

“I promise I’m not freaking out.” He lied and both of you can tell.

After a minute of silence between you two.

“So you want to listen to evermore?” he asked you.

“Well of course I want to listen to evermore!”

*gif not mine*

[mrlxys]

•°. *࿐ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! jake peralta x fem!insecure!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! body dysmorphia, mental health issues

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! i have no idea what this is

━━ SUMMARY :: that little voice in your head wins

➺ ❛ ⌗ impossible love & friends to strangers ❜

You took a deep breath as you closed your book, putting it away as you got tired. It was almost time to leave, so you just scrolled on your phone for a bit.

“Y/N!” None other than Gina Linetti yelled to grab your attention. She succeeded. You looked up as she motioned for you to come over. You got on your feet, and walked over with a small smile, “The crew’s going for drinks later, you know, the usual, but I’ve heard you don’t want to come?”

“Uh—yeah,” You nodded as your brows furrowed, “Why?” Gina took a deep breath as she looked at you with a certain look that you read as ‘seriously?’.

“You’ve been missing out on going anywhere with us; is something up?” Gina intertwined her hands as she looked up at you, eyeing you, “Nope, I’m perfectly fine.” The lie immediately left your lips as you shrugged, “Just a bit tired. I’ve never been one for hangouts, anyway.”

“Mhm.” She nodded unconvinced, motioning as to tell you ‘okay, go’. You put on the smile you had and returned to your desk, sitting down in your seat. You then heard a loud laugh, making you turn your head in the sounds direction. It was Amy and Jake talking, Amy seemingly laughing at something Jake had said.

You involuntarily formed a sad smile, then looked away before anyone could see you look at them. If someone knew, you thought repeatedly. God, how you had the biggest crush on Jake. It started as a giddy middle school crush, before it turned into something more. It was long before Amy ans Jake got together, so it was so hard to try to make your feelings disappear. Not to mention you and Jake are very close friends.

Jake and Amy were the perfect couple. You would never do anything to damage their relationship, no matter what. Yes, you and Jake were close, but you and Amy were also friends. Sabotaging their relationship would be the last thing you would ever do. You wouldn’t blame Jake for getting with Amy, anyway. She was so incredibly smart, let alone gorgeous. You’re not jealous of Amy, but you just aspire to be like her.

“N/N!” Jake clapped in front of you, making you jump in your seat, “What the hell?” You furrowed your brows as you looked up at him. He crossed his arms as he looked concerned and serious at the same time, “Why’re you not going anywhere with us?” He asked as he narrower his eyes at you.

“I’m just not in the mood,” You sighed to stand up, before he pushed you back onto the chair. You tilted your head in confusion, “I’m being honest, Peralta.” You shook your head with a shrug.

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” He let out a breath as he grabbed a chair. He sat in front of you. You knew how this was gonna go. He wouldn’t leave you alone, bug you with questions before you finally admit what was up. Not this time, though. You literally could not bear to let your heart break even more, especially seeing them somewhere other than work. Besides, you wouldn’t have had a chance either way.

Your insecurities would get the best of you, and not let it down until you distanced yourself from him and eventually breakup. Well, that’s not how your relationships went. It’s what you were told during those relationships that affected you and made you the way you are.

“Y’know how lucky you are to be with me?”

“You were always something to pass time with.”

“Look at you. Why would I be with you out of all people?”

The memories flashed, causing you to swallow a lump in your throat. His hand went on yours, “Just tell me.” He was genuinely concerned. Jake always cared about his friends, something you loved about him. Loved, shit, you freaked out and stammered, “I gotta go.” You grabbed your bag and strutted to the elevator in a hurry. You felt everyone’s eyes on you, and you just closed your eyes as you walked into the elevator, before Jake threw one of Scullys’ bag of chips to keep the elevator opened.

“Okay, seriously, what is up with you?” He stopped the elevator, then turned to you. He cornered you, making your breath hitch, “What’s up with you?” You chuckled in disbelief as your hands pushed him away softly. He tilted his head in confusion now, “Just—leave me alone.” You turned to the button, until Jake grabbed your wrists.

“You should know me better than that,” He said as he blocked your view of the controls, “Please tell me.” He pleaded. You shook your head and backed up, suddenly feeling suffocated. Your mental health has gone to shit a while ago, your insecurities piling up with every passing minute, and the urge to breakdown was too much; not to mention overthinking. Sure, you may have overreacted before, but you had time to think about that later. Right now, all you wanted to do is get away from Jake Peralta.

You stayed quiet, head down, while you fidgeted with your fingers. He dropped his head back as a soft sigh left his lips. He knew you were stubborn, but usually he would’ve gotten through to you by now, “Is it really that scary you don’t wanna tell me?”

You looked up at him, giving him an answer without saying a word. He nodded, then moved to let you press the button, yet you paused, “If I could tell you, I would, but I’m not that kind of person.” Then pressed the button.

The next day was the same, yet you stayed quiet. You were more introverted than usual as you tugged the the hem of your sweater’s sleeves, in deep thought. You wondered if yesterday could’ve gone differently, but it couldn’t have. You felt Jake’s eyes on you, but you didn’t dare to even glance in his direction. You were finishing up paperwork, then got up to go to Captain Holt’s office.

“Y/N,” Gina grabbed you, making you almost lose your balance, “Hm?” You hummed. Rosa was stood beside you, making you jump a bit. Then, Rose hit your shoulder without warning, “What gives?” You hit her back, making her give you a glare you know wasn’t real.

“Did you tell Jake?” Gina sang. You knitted your brows together, obviously confused. Rosa sighed, “Did you tell Jake you wanted him in way too many ways?” She said casually. Your eyes widened and looked around to make sure no one heard, and thankfully, no one did.

“Say it louder, why don’t you?” You sarcastically stated as you crossed your arms, “Also, obviously not.” You continued.

“Well, why not?” Gina said as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “He is dating someone. I can’t ruin that, why would I? I don’t have a chance, anyway.” You shrugged, “Let it go. I’m not really bothered with this, and you both shouldn’t be either.”

“Yeah,” Gina hummed, “no.” She then continued, getting a nod from Rosa. “They’ve been talking about taking a ‘break’ for a bit, because they’ve been busy with work.” Rosa turned to you.

“That’s their business, and I will not interfere, so neither should you two!” You pointed at them with your index finger. You then walked back to your desk, ditching the idea to go to Captain Holt. Thankfully, it was time to leave, so you took your things and made you way to the elevator. And this time, Jake didn’t throw a bag of chips.

You were in your apartment, on the couch while you waited your pizza to arrive to start the movie. Then, the doorbell rang. Expecting it to be your order, you grabbed your cash and walked to the door, opening it to find Jake.

While you were about to slam the door shut, he put his hand on the door and pushed it open. You walked back to your couch, not saying a word as he shut the door, “Talk to me.” He sighed as you stayed quiet. You were in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, with your hair in a ponytail. “What do you want me to say?” You faintly said, trying so incredibly hard to not look at him.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” He honestly spoke, “I can’t do that.” You finally turned to him, the gap between you two not being much—catching you off guard. As you were about to turn and look down as you’ve done before, his thumb and index finger held your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “I can’t,” You tilted your head ever so slightly, the words coming out as a whisper.

Before he let out a word, the bell rang. You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat, then stood up and walked to the door. You grabbed the cash beforehand, then opened the door to find a sweet woman with a pizza box, “Thank you,” You mumbled with a smile, then softly shut the door and walked back to the couch.

“Y/N—“

“No, you seriously don’t understand; I actually can’t tell you. It’s best if I don’t, Jake.” You cut him off before he can say anything. He doesn’t understand how much you being in his mere presence hurts you so much. You wouldn’t dream of ruining what makes Jake happy, not to mention Amy. Amy was such a kind and special person, you were honestly relieved Jake was dating her.

You then felt him intertwine your hands, making you look up at him with a confused expression, “I understand.” He nodded as he locked eyes with you. You mirrored his soft nod, as you cupped his cheek before being able to stop yourself. Your eyes widened just a bit before going back to your previous expression; trying to not make your thoughts obvious.

“I really can’t,” You whispered as tears welled up in your eyes, although they weren’t very obvious. He nodded and got up, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His lips formed into a thin line, making you suck in a breath.

As soon as he was out the door, tears freely rolled down your cheeks. Your knees were pulled to your chest, then grabbed the remote to put on your comfort movie. Everything has gone to crap—everything except your job, that is.

Mental health? Long gone.

Love life? Never existed.

Friendships? Either distance or are just fake.

Insecurities? Piling up by the passing second.

Life is truly not worth it.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

[hanasnx]

moves.

MINORS DNI 18+

JAKE PERALTA can't believe his stroke of good luck. Of pure, unadulterated good luck. He had entered the crime scene with you mere moments ago and after a heated exchange of bouncing off of each other with observations— your voices gradually raising at the same level as you near the climax of the conversation— you'd given him the look. Focused eyes watching him through your brows, the curl of your parted lips, panting through them. How you assessed him, scanned his figure like he was edible, sharing a silent moment with him as you calculate exactly what you wanna do to him. Next thing he knew you were excusing you and him saying you'd be going out for coffee, when you'd pulled him into the nearest cleaning closet of the apartment complex that wasn't crawling with cops. Now he's balls deep inside you, clothes having hastily been moved aside to accommodate it.

"Jakey," you whine, dragging out the word. He loves it when you call him that. Gets him all hot and bothered, afraid he'd give you whatever you asked for when you invoke that pretty petname off those pretty lips. "you fuck me so good..."

His teeth bite hard into the skin past his lips, brows creased in concentration so as not to bust to early. It's a quickie, a fucking hot one, but he's still got manners. The sound of your voice has his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he's fucking you from the back, big hands on your hips to keep pulling you back onto his cock while you brace on the wall. A brief moan hums through his nose as he directs you closer to him, talking shit in your ear, "Do I fuck you good? Yeah? Yeah, baby? 'I fuck you good?" breathless, and dizzy with pleasure, he can't believe someone like you is this into him.

[shewroteaworld]

How He Made You Feel

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Premise: Right before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship, Jake puts a high school teacher behind bars for attempted sexual assault. The case brings up some difficult high school memories for you.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sexual harassment, downplaying of sexual harassment

Word count: approx. 2,500

A/N: I'm back! Let me know in the comments if you want more Jake Peralta fics. (I'm not sure there's an audience for it.) Hope you enjoy! <3

Jake Peralta is the king of cinnamon buns. Eating the ones you bake, that is. 

“This is like heaven on my tongue!” He moans. He licks some cream cheese frosting off the top. “Babe, these are seriously amazing.”

Your back relaxes. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Right after your shift at the 99th precinct, you zipped to your apartment to chill before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship (no pressure). Rather than chillaxing, your anxiety sparked, and kneading dough became the outlet. Your in-a-pinch cinnamon buns never fail to soothe your soul or anyone’s taste buds. Now that you’re in his kitchen, you’re grateful for the baking conniption. Jake’s indulgence gives you a moment to ground.

As he gulps down another bite, his eyebrow quirks. “Jakey?” He flashes that cheeky grin you love to hate.

Your face warms. “I never said that.”

“Nope! No take backs! It’s on the record!”

You scoff. “Aren’t you a little young for hearing loss?” 

“Hey!” He pokes the edge of your forced frown. “You said it, and you know it, and it was adorable.”

Your heart beats in your ears. “You liked it?” 

Jake’s eyes soften. “Yeah, I liked it.” He smirks mischievously. “And you’re getting all mushy on me.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Peralta.” 

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He pokes your side.

You jerk away. “You don’t, and you know it.”

“If you say so! But I know what cutesy-nickname territory means.”

The buzz of his phone spares you from his ribbing. “Our DoorDash is here. I’m going to pick it up downstairs.” Jake slips on his slides.

“Kay. Thanks.”

He leans over his kitchen chair to kiss your cheek. “Course. BRB.”

Jake rushes out his apartment door. In his absence, you observe his place: the mopped kitchen tile, his clean olive green couch, his stash of beginner recipe books tucked on a shelf above a kitchen counter. When you first transferred to the 99, you couldn’t imagine Peralta had an inkling of an organized domestic in him. 

Your tan trench coat hangs next to his leather NYPD jacket on the coat rack in the hall. Your heart palpitates. That was the first stitch of your domestic lives being sewn together. You wring your hands.

Jake doesn’t care about stains. You’ll eat Indian take-out from the container while watching some corny comedy he loves and you bemoan on his bare sofa. You tidy the kitchen table anyway.

The wave of anxiety begins to crest as you straighten junk mail from random magazines and political campaigns. You brush crumbs off the new placemats you forced on him through Office Secret Santa. (Weave placements are a recipe for soup-spill disasters.) You leave the manila files of cases he’s working on untouched off to the side.

You pour two tall glasses of water.  So what if you ordered drinks? Jake’s bloodstream will become half orange soda if someone doesn’t counteract his addiction.

Just as you’re setting the glasses down, there’s a knock on the door.

You jump. Your hand jerks, sending a manila folder flying to the floor, its confidential contents scattering behind the island on impact. Shit. 

“Forgot my keys, babe!” Jake calls.

“Coming!” 

Upon opening the door, a smiley Jake awaits you, holding a white cardboard box to his chest. The mouth watering aromas wafting from it don’t calm your cortisol levels. 

His head tilts. “Why the long face?”

You step aside. “When you knocked, I jumped and slapped one of your files off the kitchen table. I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “It’s no problem.” He says, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re on edge. 

“Everything spilled out.” You elaborate. Though you wouldn’t describe Jake as neat, he’s particular. Though the order of his files and notes are Greek to everyone else, it makes sense to him. He hates when someone “tidies” it without his permission.

Jake walks towards the kitchen. “Yeah, on the floor, not another dimension. It’s okay. Besides, it doesn’t need to be in any specific order– I closed that case today. I’m returning everything to the file room first thing.”

You trail behind him. “Did you close while I was uptown with Boyle?”

“Yep.” He plops the takeout box on the table. He kneels down to gather the rogue papers. “While you were out gathering evidence, I was cracking the code on this creep.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sexual assault case?” You sort your take out into categories: his, hers, and shared. 

Jake taps a stack of papers straight against a countertop. “Attempted.  And he was a fucking high school teacher. Luckily, it was all on security cam. Easy win.”

The styrofoam carton of lamb samosas trembles in your hand. “That’s upsetting.”

“Majorly. Sadly, he’ll probably get off easy. I mean it was attempted. Not that it should’ve been full-on assault or that what happened isn’t terrible–”

“I understand what you mean, Jake.” You assure. It’s how sex crimes go. 

You open your potato samosa carton. “These are the bomb dot com,” you say. It’s an easy lay up for him.

“That ass is the bomb dot com!” Your chest loosens at the change of topic.

You shoot Jake a glare. He puts his hands up. 

He picks up the last of stray papers as you grab plates and utensils.  When he’s done, he grabs the drink holder, your Pineapple Fanta and your pink lemonade each tucked in a cardboard slot. “Let’s go sit, m’lady.”

You reach for the drink holder with your free hand, but he twists his torso away. He nods towards the living room. “Relax. Pick a show. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

When Jake joins you on the couch, you immediately reach for your potato samosas.

“You weren’t kidding when you said those were your favorite.” Jake chuckles.

“Absolutely not. Try the lamb. They should be in the center– that’s the shared column.”

Jake affectionately rolls his eyes. “You treat life like an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Someone has to.” The cold condensation on your small pink lemonade chills your hand. “Hopefully, a detective would.”

He grabs his chest as if you struck him. “Your passive aggression is a stab to my heart!”

You pop open the container of jasmine rice. “What subject did that teacher teach?” You ask.

“The creeper?”

“Mhmm.”

Jake opens a container of chicken saagwala. “History.”

You hum disappointedly. “History teachers were always the coolest. Especially the male ones.” You stab your plastic fork into the rice and reach for the curry. 

“Now I wish I slept less in history class.” Jake remarks. 

You stare blankly at the coffee table as you spoon your (hopefully) extra spicy curry onto your plate. 

The couch sighs as Jake sinks back into the cushions, his left arm stretching to lay behind you on the sofa’s back. “Such a scumbag. The girl was barely legal–could’ve been one of his own students. To make matters worse, she looked 16.”

In your head, you count your breaths. You zone in on the white grains of rice you’re absentmindedly pushing into your curry sauce. 

You see your high school hallway. You remember the misery, the pressure. Mr. Johnston.

“You listening to me, babe?”

He taps your calf with the tip of his slide. You flinch.

“Sorry,” he says. Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“That’s alright.”

In your peripheral vision, he leans forward. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’m great.” You click on his TV. “Just got a bit lost in my thoughts for a second.”

You feel Jake studying your side profile.

You click on Netflix. “Let’s do something lighthearted.” You drop down to his My List. Thankfully, you don’t have to search long to find something passable. 

“This one okay?” You ask. “I’ve been wanting to watch this too.”

“More than okay.”

The strings of the production company’s opening music fill the living room. You fiddle with your fork. Queasiness bites at you.

You need to shake this. This was your first sleepover with Jake. Don’t ruin this experience for yourself. It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you were alright. It was nowhere close to what that victim experienced. You’re fine. Is your asthma acting up?

You rest your plate on the coffee table. “Keep watching. I need the restroom real quick.”

You speed walk across the apartment to his bathroom, locking the door behind you. You turn the faucet to screeching cold. You dip your head into the basin and splash ice water in your face.

Your lungs gasp open from shock. Your brain drops back into your body. 

Everything’s safe. You’re okay. Tonight will be great. Don’t let some creep going to trial rattle you like this and ruin the evening.

You find a clean towel in a drawer and dry your face. After taking a detour to his bathroom to toss it in his hamper, you take three final deep breaths, your hand over your heart.

You’re fine. Nothing’s happening.

You return to the couch with a soft smile. “Sorry, Jake.” 

“No problem. You okay?” He asks again.

You hate lying to him. “Yeah, I just had to pee.” 

The movie snaps back to action. Though you didn’t ask, he paused for you. As the film unfurls, as predicted, you poke fun at the plot and Jake ardently defends it. The banter warms you, but the knot in the pit of your stomach refuses to unfurl.

Once your plate is clean, you lay your head on Jake’s shoulder. As the leading actress does something you don’t register, Jake’s laughter ripples through your hollow chest. 

It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you survived it. He never touched you. It was so long ago. He must be retired by now. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to be your fault. Nothing criminal happened. Nothing. It was so–

“(Y/N).”

You gasp. You snap up straight. The movie’s been paused. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention.” Jake says gently. 

Your heart sinks. “It’s…I’m just in my head.” You roughly run a hand through your hair. “So sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You stare at your knees.

Jake intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s definitely substantial for you to be distracted like this.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m here.”

You smile sadly. “I don’t want to bring the vibe down.”

“Acquiring (Y/N) lore rivals catching bad guys as my favorite thing to do. Telling me about your feelings could never bring the vibe down. ”

A courteous dismissal gets tangled in your throat. Is that really what you want to say? 

Your free hand fiddles with the end of your hair. “I really don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You force a deep breath. “Your case threw me off.”

His eyebrows knit. “The teacher–creep one?”

You nod. “The teacher…you said he harassed a young woman who looked 16.”

He nods.

“It reminds me of an experience I had in high school when I was 17.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “How so?” He asks gently.

“There was… this science teacher– Mr. Johnston. One semester, I had to walk by his classroom everyday. I had to walk from my homeroom on the opposite end of the school, so sometimes I would get there right after the bell rang. When I was alone, he would always offer to walk me to class…even though it was only a couple doors down from his.”

Jake nods. 

“He said he was trying to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for tardiness…but he never told my teacher he walked me. And he did it even after he knew I wouldn’t get in trouble and that I was only going two doors down from his classroom.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“He also used to do this weird thing where he would walk right behind me…I think it was supposed to be copying my walk to tease me. One day, he came up super close behind me– close enough to smell my perfume. All I could think about was how close to my ass he was.”

Anger cuts through Jake’s expression. “Did anyone see this?” 

“Some other teachers did. They didn’t see anything wrong with it…they laughed it off everytime. I guess they saw it as a harmless joke. But, it made me really uncomfortable. Everyday I would pray that he wouldn’t say hi to me or be weird and would just let me walk to class. I figured maybe I was crazy, making something out of nothing, but it just felt wrong. At the time, I tried to block it out, I had other stressors to deal with…but right after I graduated, I reflected on it and other stories I heard about him…and I was creeped out.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. Did you ever report this?”

“I confided in another teacher about it, but I never formally reported anything. I don’t know if he ever talked to his colleague about his behavior. Plus, I didn't think there was anything concrete to report.” You sigh. “It felt so wrong. I remember being so afraid of being alone in a room with him…he was a co-advisor for some extracurriculars I was a part of. There, he was always completely indifferent towards me but in those hallways in the morning…”

“With less people.” Jake notes. “And colleagues who didn’t take his behavior seriously.” 

You nod. 

“(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. That isn’t okay.”

“I’m still not really sure if anything did happen to me. He didn’t touch me….he just…”

Jake shakes his head. “Followed you down hallways and got close to your body. That’s not okay.” He squeezes your hand again. “How did it make you feel?”

“Violated.” You admit.

Jake nods. “That’s what matters. How he made you feel matters. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake offers you a tissue. “Do you know what ever happened to that teacher?”

You wipe your eyes. “I believe he retired…not 100% sure.”

His face hardens. “I can track him down if you like.”

“No, Jake…there’s nothing to report. No evidence. Just a dead-end case of “he said she said” from over 10 years ago. Even if I reported it earlier, I doubt anything could have happened.”

Jake groans. “This sucks. I’m sorry for what you went through. No one should feel uncomfortable with a teacher at school. Jesus, every time I think I get what women go through, I learn it’s worse than I imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

You dab your eyes. “Thank you for not belittling what happened to me. It’s great to have someone like you...you don't downplay what I feel."

He kisses your nose. “It’s part of my boyfriend duties; it’s what I’m here for.”

You press a tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for being a safe space to talk.”

He returns the peck. “Forever and always.”

Jake Peralta is a goofball. He can be messy– both literally and figuratively. But at the core of it all was a mensch’s heart. 

[deathofacupid]

dude (blurb) | jake peralta

summary: "dude" but romantically.

warnings: none.

pairing: fem!reader x jake peralta (friends to lovers)

word count: 0.8k+ words

"okay, but i'm serious! you have to try it, it's literally amazing."

"i was gonna take your word for it, but i remembered it's you... so, no."

"dude," he whined, a soft smile adorning his lips.

"dude," you say back, same tone.

"fine, fine, what if i make you one? that's, like, no work required. y'know minus chewing."

"jacob jeffrey peralta, i am not, not even on my deathbed, trying pickles with ice cream. that's just a new level of gross."

"but charles approved it!"

"why on earth would that affect whether or not i try it?"

"y'know, i have no clue. i'm getting desperate."

"i can see that."

"dudeeee," he kicks his feet on the floor as he's sitting next to you on the couch. die hard is playing on the tv in his apartment, but the two of you have seen it so many times, you practically have it memorized by heart.

and why would you ever watch die hard when jake's sitting right there?

between you and yourself, you know which you'd rather watch. okay, "watch" sounded creepy.

you're laying on his lap as he's looking down at you, pouting.

you roll your eyes, but it's all fun. "dudeeee."

truth be told, you're sure you can handle the odd food combo, but teasing him and drawing this out is so much more fun. god, you really are in love with him.

"pretty, pretty, please? with- with, like, seven cherries on top?"

"just seven?" you pretend to be offended.

"i'm a brokie, the best i can do is eight." jake runs a hand through your hair, it's so comforting.

you sigh, "all right."

"to the cherries or the pream?"

"the- the what now?"

"pickles. ice cream. pickles and ice cream. pream? yeah, you know what, that's... that's not it. doesn't roll of the tongue great."

"oh, yeah. that, and it sounds like an std."

"good point. i'm gonna assume you meant the... cream... pi... creampi-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there."

he nods quickly. "right. what about cream-"

"not if it starts with 'cream', dude."

"icickles?"

"n-"

"piccream!"

"if i try your 'dish'," you air quote, "will you stop trying to come up with names."

"maybe."

you give him a look, and he amends, "yes. maybe. i pledge to do my best." jake salutes you, then pokes your check. you scowl, swatting him away and sitting up.

"lead me to your kitchen."

"sure. it's five steps that-a-way," he says, pointing to the kitchen that is quite exactly five steps away. like a true gentleman, jake scoops you - through which you protest ("dude!") - and then (after six steps, actually [wow, his apartment is slightly bigger than hypothesized]) sets you on the counter.

"i feel like you should know that i'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."

"but why would you when i'm here?"

"dude."

"dude," he replies, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer.

"how are you even supposed to eat this? like... spread it? o-or dip?"

jake grabs a spoon and scoops some ice cream onto it. "watch, young jedi."

"i don't-"

"shh, i'm yoda-ing." he spreads it on the pickle and shoves it in your face. slowly, you sniff it. it doesn't smell... like anything bad, really.

it doesn't look great though. "is it too late to go back?"

"yes." after a second, he groans, "gah, i'll go first." he takes a bite, and you make a face.

"mmm... you shouf knodis is-"

"jake, swallow."

he grins and you furrow your brows. "what- oh. oh! jake!" your cheeks heat up so quickly, for a number of reason. because, yeah, obviously the second one sounds better.

also, of course that's what he instantly goes to.

"oh, my god. are you twelve or thirty-three? because i honestly can't tell."

"dude, i'm well-versed. you wouldn't understand."

"i'm... twenty-five. wo-wouldn't i-?"

"schematics."

"yeah, okay, bud."

"dude," he corrects.

"right," you murmur, "dude."

you don't really realize how he's leaning in, the way if you do too, your lips would touch. you falter, and you can feel warm breath minglingwith yours.

jake cups your cheek and you lean into it. you aren't sure what's about to happen, though it should be obvious. but with jake, you're nervous, afraid that this isn't really happening.

you have no clue what he's done with the pickle, and you have no clue why that's what's on your mind right now.

he squeezes your waist gently, a way of asking for permission. you nod, and at first, it's just a brush. just a brush of his lips against yours, feeling for some type of sense that this is happening. that it's reality.

you press back against him, your hand on top of his, the one on your face. your other hand blindly feels for his hair, tugging against his soft, brown curls.

when you pull away, you're breathing hard. not because of the kiss, because it wasn't aggressive or any longer than twenty seconds, but because of the adrenaline of it all.

"dude," he breathes, and you giggle.

"y'taste like pickles. and ice cream. it's actually not that bad," you admit. "at least not on you."

"dude," jake repeats, dumb-founded at what just happened.

you peck him again, right on the lips, "dude."

[lazysoulwriter]

Too hot to handle. - Jake Peralta.

I can hardly ever find anything good to read about him, so HERE IS A TRY! Hope y’all like it!

The first time you stepped into the precinct, Jake Peralta had made some stupid joke about hazing new detectives. You had immediately shot back with something just as ridiculous, and it was like watching a cartoon character glitch out. He blinked at you, stunned, and then grinned so widely it looked painful.

Since then, it had been a running joke that you were the only person who could truly keep up with his humor. Which, of course, meant that he was obsessed with trying to outwit you. The two of you were constantly paired together on cases because of how well you worked in the field. Or, as Rosa had put it, “because nobody else wants to deal with you two idiots for longer than five minutes.”

But it was also complicated. Jake never wanted to admit how well you clicked. He made everything a competition, which was fine, because so did you. But anytime things started getting even remotely real—like the time you had patched up a nasty scrape on his shoulder after a foot chase, or when you had fallen asleep on his couch after a movie night—he immediately reverted back to making jokes.

Tonight’s mission was supposed to be easy. Surveillance. You and Jake were supposed to sit in an unmarked car, watching the entrance of a shady bar where a known arms dealer was meeting with a potential buyer. There was no need for any heroics, no need for either of you to go undercover. Just watch, take notes, and report back.

Naturally, that meant you and Jake were going to be stuck in close quarters, which had never been a problem before. Except that lately, there had been a shift in the way he looked at you. A flicker of something behind the humor, something bordering on dangerous.

Jake was lounging in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio as he spoke. “Alright, so how long do you think we’ll be here before something exciting happens? Because I give it fifteen minutes before we start making hand puppets with the flashlights again.”

You snorted, settling back in your seat. “Let’s be real. You’ll start doing the puppets, and I’ll be the audience that pretends to be unimpressed.”

Jake gasped dramatically. “You love my puppet shows! You said Gary the Giraffe had ‘real emotional depth’—”

“That was sarcasm, Peralta.”

“Yeah, well, sarcasm is just love in disguise.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you rolled your eyes.

The street outside was quiet. The bar was bustling, but none of the people going in and out matched the photos of the suspects. It was going to be a long night.

You stretched, arching your back slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jake go very still.

Interesting.

You decided to test the waters. “Man, I hate these stakeouts. It’s always the same. Sitting around, waiting for something that never happens.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, you say that now, but last time we got free tacos out of it.”

“That guy was bribing us to leave.”

“A bribe’s just a gift with extra steps.”

You turned to him, catching the way his eyes flicked to your face before darting away. He was fidgeting more than usual, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Alright, spill. What’s up with you?”

“W-what? Nothing. I am completely normal. A hundred percent Jake, baby!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You just called yourself ‘Jake, baby.’”

“I did?” He winced. “Cool, cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.”

It was painfully obvious now. He was nervous. You tilted your head. “Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“Incorrect. I am always weird.”

“Weirder than usual.”

He hesitated, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. You got me. It’s just—look, I’m a detective, okay? My job is to observe. And I have observed that you’re, like...annoyingly hot.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “Ugh, I knew this would be embarrassing, but I didn’t think it would be this embarrassing. Look, I’m just saying, it’s very distracting. You exist, and it’s ruining my life.”

You bit back a smile. “Wow. That’s a lot of feelings you just dumped on me in a surveillance van.”

Jake pointed at you. “Don’t deflect. I know you feel it too.”

You stared at him for a long moment, weighing your options.

And then, because you never backed down from a challenge, you grabbed his jacket and kissed him.

Jake made a startled sound before immediately melting into it. His hand slid up to cup your face, and holy shit, he was good at this. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed you was anything but gentle—like he had been holding back for a long time.

When you finally pulled away, he was breathless. “Okay. Okay. That happened. Cool. Just gonna—” He pressed his palms against the steering wheel and exhaled. “Gonna need a second to reboot my brain.”

You smirked. “Reboot faster. The target just arrived.”

Jake snapped back to reality, sitting up straight. “Oh. Right. Crime.” He glanced at you again, grinning. “We should probably talk about this later.”

“Probably.”

“Like, after we finish this case.”

“Mhm.”

“But just for the record,” he added, “you are absolutely too hot for me to handle.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And yet, here we are.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Here we are.”

[veryberryjelly]

hi!! can i request red wine w/ jake peralta based on “fresh out the slammer” by taylor swift? for the last few days all i can think of is like a friends to lovers thing with reader and jake after a bad breakup. thx!! 🩷

jake peralta x reader

lyrics ; ' Now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you, Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to ' [ tw ; implied abusive relationship NOT JAKE ]

lowkey wanna do a part 2 to this, maybe a series. lmk if y'all would be into that

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

everyone had told you that he was bad news.

but you were too blinded by what you thought was love to listen.

but now as you stood outside his apartment building, tears and rain mingling on your cheeks, you could see they were right.

he had taken you apart, piece by piece until you didnt know who you were anymore.

stood on his front step you couldnt find it in yourself to head back to your apartment where your roommate would be waiting with open arms and an 'i told you' ready to drop.

your legs seemed to carry you in the opposite direction before you could think too much about where you were headed.

it felt like seconds before you were stood infront of the door of one of your friends.

the only person you were sure wouldn't judge you right now.

your knock echoes through the hallway and you hoped more than anything that he would still be awake.

the sight that greeted you when he opened the door made you think you had arrived just in time.

jake.

his hair was mussed slightly and he had ditched his usual jeans and a hoodie for pyjama pants and a t-shirt.

" hey, what're you doing here?" he questioned, his voice more curious than judging.

but you couldnt seem to get any words out.

" woah, hey, are you okay ?"

that broke the damn. tears cascaded down your cheeks and if it weren't for jake's strong arms wrapping around your torso you would've collapsed on the floor.

he didnt try to move you, letting you cry freely into his shoulder in the hallway.

it was only when your shoulders had stopped shaking that he lead you into his apartment, sitting down on the couch beside you.

he didnt pressure you to speak, he didnt push you to do anything, he just sat with you for a while before you felt okay enough to talk.

" i- i got into a fight with dylan..." you started, your voice wobbly and uneven.

you could feel jakes posture stiffen beside you, but you carried on anyway.

" i got into the hallway before he could do anything but i heard glass breaking on the other side " tears began to pour again at the memory of that horrible sound.

he had tried to throw something at you.

jake still sat quietly at your side, his gaze on you never wavering.

" i didnt know where else to go. i knew my roommate would throw it in my face and i didnt want to be there incase he showed up.."

that was what finally snapped it and he lifted his hand, sliding it into yours and squeezing lightly.

" you can stay here, as long as you need. "

his voice was like a comforting blanket over your shoulders that could solve anything. just giving you a place to stay meant the world. it meant you didnt have to go back to your flat and hear your roommate go on about how right she was.

it meant you had a safe place to rest your head.

" thank you, jake " you replied your arms winding around his torso as his did the same , pulling you against his chest.

you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head and it felt as though it was thawing your heart.

" c'mon, i've got some clothes you can borrow for tonight and we can get some of your stuff tomorrow "

after a confirming nod of your head, jake lead you to his bedroom, offering out a t-shirt, a hoodie and some boxers.

when you emerged from the bathroom in his clothes, you found him pulling blankets and a pillow from under his bed.

" ok, so, you know where everything is, i'll wake you in the morning before i go to work. and i'll tell holt that you're taking a day because there is no way i am-"

" can you stay with me tonight ?" you cut him off. amongst all of this, you didnt want to be alone.

you would take tomorrow off and sort yourself out if he wanted, though you would prefer to go on as though nothing had happened.

but right now, you didnt want him to go. you didnt care if that meant you sleeping on the floor in his bedroom, though you knew jake well enough to know he wouldn't allow that.

it took him a minute where he froze on the spot before he answered

" yeah "

he pushed the blanket and pillow back under the bed and climbed under his comforter, pulling back the other side for you to climb under.

and you did so, lowering yourself down onto the bed and pulling the blankets back over you.

jake didnt move, not wanting to push you too far, but he was on the other side of the mattress, what felt like miles away.

so even in your vulnerable state, you made the journey across the cotton sheets and rested your head down on his shoulder.

when his arm wrapped around you, you knew you were secure.

jake always gave you a safe place to rest your head.

[wyniepooh]

Like a fucking dream i’m living in

jake peralta turns into a thief for you.

Perv!peralta x reader. When Jake and reader temporarily live together, reader’s things suddenly begin to go missing. Mdni; 18+

you first noticed the lingering glances.

you tried your best to avoid peralta in the late night, walking on tip-toes and staying confined in your room for as long as you could bear. You had already done him a huge favour by inviting him to live in your apartment while he searched for his own, so you figured it was best to keep things at least somewhat professional.

Still, the apartment wasn’t that big (it was New York, after all), and despite your best efforts, you encountered him more than you would’ve liked.

You’d often catch him in the kitchen late at night, pouring himself a glass of water while you awkwardly approached to grab a quick snack. The interaction is silent, and yet you were always uncomfortably alert. You didn’t need to look over at him to feel his gaze falling down your body, his gaze focusing primarily on the mound of your chest peeking through the thin pyjamas.

you took note of his loose grey sweats and the casual white tee he wore so well, but you were careful to not show your interest— even if he was obvious with his. The interaction would end almost as quickly as it started when he’d awkwardly raise a hand in greeting before retreating back to his guest room.

then, it was the persistant touching.

You’d be struggling to grab a cookbook perched on the top shelf of the cabinet, and before you could even ask for help, Jake is behind you, lowering the book with a soft hand on the small of your waist. “Thanks,” you’d mutter, eyes fluttering all over his face, and he’d say nothing except flash you a crooked grin.

Once, you were heading out for drinks and right before you could reach the door, he called your name with a tone of rushed urgency.

“wait, uh, you got a little…” he pointed to the corner of his own lips.

You quickly reached up to wipe away whatever was on your face, but after multiple attempts, he insisted it was still there, and so he walked over and slyly swiped it away with his hand. The pad of his thumb stayed on your lips longer than necessary, his eyes on yours longer than needed, and when he finally pulled away, you swear his fingers were squeaky clean.

your last straw was when your things began to disappear.

They were small things at first— the pen you used for all your police paperwork, the bowl you used every evening for dinner. Then, the casual robbery escalated to your bedroom.

The lace bra you wore on special occasions, the skimpy pair of panties you had hidden away deep in your drawer. There could only be one culprit, you knew that, and yet, you didn’t feel a need to confront him.

Instead, you began to wear the bra you normally wouldn’t wear on a random Tuesday, making sure the delicate lace trim was visible through your low-cut tank top. You reciprocated the endless touching; a light touch on his bicep as you laughed at his joke, or a press of your ass against him as you reached for a spatula.

You were more on edge than you had ever been, but there was always a delicious thrill that ran down your spine the second you both came home to resume the unspoken game.

You had almost forgotten about everything tonight, coming back late from a meeting that had drained the energy out of you. But on your way to your room, you couldn’t help but take an extra step towards the guest room. A sliver of dim light was visible through his half-closed door, and while you couldn’t see him, you heard him.

You hadn’t gotten any for longer than you’d like to admit, but you were still able to recognize the sounds of sex, all sloppy and dirty and wild. Except there was only one voice, one tone in the string of moans that escaped through the cracks and into your perked ears.

“Uh- fu- fuck, yeah, just like that.”

You remained frozen in shock for just a moment, staring at the door, then, through a sudden burst of adrenaline, you shifted your head until Jake finally came into view.

He was sat on the edge of the guest bed you had meticulously made that very morning, except now the sheets were wrinkled and undoubtedly covered in his sweat. Jake’s head was thrown back in a fit of indulgence, his eyes squinted closed as if the pleasure was painful to even think about. Your quiet breaths hitched as your eyes trailed down his open button-up, soft abs decorating his torso.

Then, you saw it. A pair of pink panties, your panties, scrunched up in his left hand as his right pumped up and down his length. Rather than feeling disgusted or relieved that you had finally caught the thief using your expert detective skills, something much more dangerous was growing in the pit of your stomach.

You found your breaths linking up with his as they got more frantic, more hungry for a release that could never be matched to that of his imagination. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he vocalized his thoughts, muttering your name as he pleaded, “please, just give it to me,” and “show me how much you want me, baby.”

You almost gasped when he loudly groaned one last time, his whole body shaking stiffly as he came, short spurts of white falling where your panties were now wrapped around his cock. You were carefully observing the way the aftershocks came over his body— heaving breathing, faltering hands, when suddenly, he turns his head.

He looks directly at you, and for a moment, panic flashes over his eyes as if he’s waiting for you to yell, to scream, to burst into the room and ask him what the hell he’s doing. But you don’t do that, and soon, any signs of anxiety dissipates from his eyes. There was only desire in his gaze, a heat that was dark and brewing and matched the one between your legs, begging to spill over.

As a corner of his lip lifted up casually, yours did too, and you knew, if you didn’t make the first move now, he was about to.

-

A/n: officially on winter break from school so I’m locking in on this acc (I’m lying.)

[amorchai]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒.

pairing(s): jake peralta x female!detective!reader

summary: it's you and jake's first case together as a couple, only for the plan to go pear-shaped.

words: 953

warnings/tags: female!reader, kidnapping ( made it as minimal as possible ), established relationship, worry.

it was very rare for the squad to see jake peralta worried. very rare. only at times where his morning bagel fell onto the floor or the street dog wasn’t waiting outside after a long shift but apart from that everyone was used to seeing goofy-carefree jake.

so when jake had ran into the precinct, wide eyed and fast paced, not one limerick falling from his lips as he almost fell into the door leading to captain holt’s office – the squad knew something was wrong.

terry followed swiftly; half-eaten yoghurt left behind to listen to the information, it was clear jake was pleading to the captain, wondering why you weren’t by his side. rosa and boyle follow his frame curiously while amy tries to lipread the captain’s responses.

one of your first cases together as a couple had gone pear-shaped. you had insisted to go in as bait – talk to the drug-ringleader and try to sneak some case-altering information. jake had argued at first, not wanting you in that position but he also advocated as a major feminist so when you said you were just as strong as a man, he immediately agreed.

however, the plan you had set out didn’t work, jake sitting at the other side of the earpiece – in the dirty van parked up front. he was unaware of the gun held to your head while the criminal wordlessly gestured for you to take out the earpiece.

when the sound muffled into white noise, jake started tapping his earpiece, “y/n? y/n!” he kept saying but there was nothing but lousy feedback. jake immediately storms the building, gun in hand and bullet-proof vest into the lonely room filled with nothing but a smashed earpiece on the ground.

which led him to the captain’s room, alerting him on the situation. “you said this was supposed to be a low-contact stake-out, why did you deem it smart to send our detective in there, unarmed, and without a squad waiting?” holt was furious, terry raising his hand to try and calm down the situation.

“we can try to track security footage, find out where they took her, captain. we only need a few hours-” jake pulls a face, “nuh-uh, i’m not waiting three hours while my girlfriend’s stuck with him.”

“look, i get it but what else can we do, peralta?” asks terry. jake looks to holt who shrugs, a hint of pure fear and disbelief in his own eyes worrying your boyfriend more than he’s ever felt.

jake sighs, “what if we check out the other location he’s known to sell? it's an abandoned warehouse just outside the city – get a squad together, storm the place to see.”

holt nods, “yes. meanwhile we’ll have a couple of detectives head down to the last place, find some cctv footage just in case it’s a dead-end. let’s get a group together now.”

there was a very quick briefing, holt assigning people jobs in order to get their detective back safely and before jake knew it he was in the back of a cop van with the same bullet-proof vest on. his mind spinning with agitation.

“hey,” jake looks to his side where rosa’s voice cuts in, “she’s gonna be fine, man. she’s a great cop.” jake nods, “i know, she’s the best, but this is all my fault i shouldn’t have let her go in herself.”

the van stops, doors opening to lead everyone outside to the abandoned warehouse. “she’s gonna be fine,” rosa reassures once more, and jake hopes to god his friend is right, jumping out of the van and catching up to the group.

holt leads, glancing into one of the broken windows before gesturing jake, terry, and amy towards the front door while the rest go round the small back space. the walkie talky that sits on amy’s vest muffles quietly, “on three.”

the moment amy says three, jake kicks the bolted door and aims his gun, “hands in the air!” a mix of voices scream into the room. several men raise their hands, one with a gun in his hand jake recognises as the leader – but all he focuses on is you.

you’re sat on a chair, you look unharmed but shaken up and jake wants to immediately run over but is forced to wait as captain holt shouts to the criminals, “put your gun down and put your hands above your head.”

you’re watching jake and jake’s watching you, small steps forward before each men are being cuffed until he sprints over towards you – meeting you in a bone-crushing hug. “i was only gone four hours,” jake admires your way to chuckle in this moment and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, holding the back of your head.

“are you alright, babe?” jake asks, pulling back to look at you properly. “yeah. the only thing he did was push me into the car but apart from that i’m okay.”

your giggle is cut off with a long kiss, jake holding your face as he desperately moves his lips against yours, mumbling a low, “i’m sorry.” you pull back, eyebrows frowning and hands shaking against his chest, “why are you sorry?”

“it’s my fault, i should never have agreed for you to go in alone. next time we are going to play it safe and-” before he can continue, you’re kissing jake again, shakily but causing him to melt anyway. you hold his hand as you’re all guided out, “maybe if i wasn’t such a good feminist…” jake trails off, eyes gazing hopeful towards you but all you do is amusingly shake your head and nudge your boyfriend, kissing his cheek as your glad to be back beside him

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Regulus: James is just the worst. He thinks he’s so smart and so attractive. He makes me feel good about the world and my place in it.

Evan: Barty, he’s doing it again!

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Headcanons for working with Jake Peralta and he's secretly in love with you...

When you first started at the precinct Jake was immediately attracted to you. At first it was harmless flirting but when he started to get to know you, things slowly became more serious.

Boyle would tease Jake about his crush on you, bigging him up to ask you out but Jake never did - he always chickened out.

Being put on a case with you was always the highlight of the week. He would high five Boyle under the table and would flash you a wide grin and a wink.

Even if he's not on a case with you, he'll offer to help you figure stuff out or help you with the paperwork afterwards which you always appreciate.

Jake's always very complimentary of you, never overstepping a line but always making sure you know how good you are.

He offers advice to you whenever you need it, it's not always good advice or very practical but he offers it anyway.

His main goal every day is to make you smile and make you laugh and he makes damn sure he achieves his goal. He loves your laugh, loves the way your eyes crinkle, loves how happy your smile is.

If there's a promotion available, of course he wants it but he goes into Holt's office and recommends you. He doesn't tell you but you're the best person for the job and he can't sit there and lie to Holt saying that he's the one for the job. It's you that deserves it so he tells Holt just as much.

He's the first person to congratulate you on getting the job. He couldn't have been prouder of you.

"I mean, why wouldn't you get the job you're awesome?!"

It's Holt that spills the secret. He's giving a speech in the bar and lets slip that Jake recommended you.

You can't believe it. You pull Jake aside asking if it's true. He admits it is... When you ask why, he smiles, shrugs and says, "Because it's you, (y/n). It's... It's you."

You start to see Jake in a very different light after that.

[writings-of-a-demigod]

“Well hello cutie” you bend down to pet the dog that came your way “Who’s the cutest dog ever? You are!”

Jake came from the store looking for you, you were supposed to be right behind him. He found you outside petting the dog.

“Are you coming or not?” he asked getting your attention.

You looked up at him “Okay I’m coming, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You said bye to the dog and went inside to talk to the owner. It was a B&E case both you and Jake got the case to work together. After you’re done with your talk, you asked Jake if he can stop by the coffee shop to get you both coffees. You waited in the car when you saw another dog on the sidewalk.

Jake walked out of the coffee shop to see that you weren’t in the car.

“Damn it Y/n where are you?” he looked around and there you were petting a dog and feeding it a hot dog you get from the vender.

“Come on Y/n we’re leaving!” he said loudly, and you just gave the dog one last pet and got in the car.

There you two were sitting at Jake’s desk sharing theories on who the thief was and looking through profiles, when jake stopped and he was looking at you.

“Ok I gotta ask” he started.

You looked up from the file and raised your eyebrow at him.

“What’s your deal with dogs?”

 “I just love dogs!” You smiled at him and he couldn’t help smiling back.

“Oh I know you don’t have to convince me” he chuckled a little “But like why is it every time you see a dog you just have to pet it? I’ve seen you pet five dogs today alone”

You got closer to his face and looked at him deep in his eyes “because every dog deserves all the pets in the world Jake” you said in a serious tone then backed away and smiled at him “I can’t help it, I’ve always wanted a dog and I never got one”.

And that’s why after the case Jake surprised you with a trip to the shelter to adopt any dog you want, the one rule was: you can choose only one. And that took you hours to decide, but nonetheless you were happy about it.

[mw00nie]

Shoulder to shoulder: Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

chapter 2

a/n: English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes that may have occurred. This took me a while to write; I'm sorry. The first draft was a mess 😭😭

summary: Jake takes a liking to the random sleepy stranger who he always sits next to on the subway.

w.c.: 5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The subway car rocked gently as Jake adjusted his seat, trying to make himself comfortable without drawing attention. Y/N sat next to him, her head bobbing slightly as sleep threatened to overtake her. Jake noticed her struggling to stay awake and smiled to himself. She was clearly exhausted—a feeling he could relate to after long shifts at the precinct.

Moments later, her head gently lolled onto his shoulder. Jake froze, not wanting to disturb her. He glanced around the subway car, hoping no one noticed how flustered he was.

Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at Jake, her fair cheeks flushing pink. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes. “I didn’t mean to…”

Jake smiled warmly, hoping to put her at ease. “No worries. Happens all the time. I guess I just have a trustworthy shoulder.”

Y/N smiled sleepily, but her expression shifted to mild panic as she patted her lap. “Where are my glasses?” she muttered.

Jake reached into his jacket pocket and held up her glasses, slightly bent but still intact. “Saved them from getting crushed by a guy with questionable hygiene,” he said, flashing his badge instinctively. “Detective Jake Peralta.”

Y/N’s face lit up as she took them. “Wow, thank you. That’s really kind of you… Detective.” She gave him a small smile, slipping her glasses back on. “I’m Y/N Y/S/N, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Jake said, his voice genuinely warm. Before he could say anything more, she glanced out the window, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, this is my stop!” She said, standing up quickly and clutching her bag. “Thanks again, Jake.”

Jake gave her a small wave, his heart doing a somersault. “You’re welcome.”

As the subway doors closed behind her, Jake leaned back in his seat, letting out a long breath. The faint scent of her shampoo lingered on his shoulder. He couldn’t believe he’d finally spoken to her.

Later that night, Jake sat at his desk in the precinct, staring at a blank report on his computer. His mind kept wandering back to Y/N. Her sleepy smile, the way she’d looked genuinely grateful when he’d handed her glasses—it was all stuck on replay in his brain.

Boyle leaned over his desk, raising an eyebrow. “Jake, why are you smiling like that? You look like you just found out Die Hard is getting a sequel.”

Jake snapped out of his trance. “What? No. I’m… uh, just thinking about a case. A really good one. Super intense.” Jake was so caught up he didn’t correct Boyle on how Die Hard had a sequel and 4 other movies after that.

Boyle squinted. “Uh-huh. Is this ‘case’ a woman you met on the subway?”

Jake’s eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“You have a very specific grin for subway crushes. Spill.”

Jake groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. I met someone. Her name’s Y/N. She fell asleep on my shoulder, I saved her glasses, we talked a little, and then she left.”

“Did you get her number?” Boyle asked eagerly.

“No,” Jake said, deflating slightly. “But it’s fine. I’ll see her again. Probably. Maybe.”

“Jake, you’re a detective! Use your skills. Find her. But, you know, not in a creepy way.”

Jake hesitated. Boyle was right—he had the tools to find her. But he wanted it to feel organic. Real. Still, his curiosity got the better of him. A quick social media search couldn’t hurt, right?

Later that night, Jake sat at his desk in the precinct, scrolling through social media. It had taken some light detective work (entirely within ethical bounds, of course), but he’d managed to find her profile.

Graphic designer... Her bio was simple but gave Jake enough to imagine her life outside their subway rides. He clicked through her posts, smiling at pictures of her projects and the occasional blurry selfie. There was one of her at a museum, captioned: “Where the art inspires my art.” (the post)

Jake’s grin widened. “She’s cool,” he said to himself.

He leaned back, holding his phone above him. “Okay, Peralta. Chill. You’re just… getting to know her. That’s normal.” But as he scrolled further, he felt his chest tighten. She wasn’t just cool; she was amazing. And the more he learned about her, the harder he fell.

____________________________

The next morning, Jake arrived at the subway platform earlier than usual. He told himself it was purely coincidental. He wasn’t waiting for her or anything. Definitely not.

The train pulled in, and Jake stepped on, glancing around the car. No sign of Y/N. He sank into a seat, trying to shake off the disappointment.

“Detective Peralta?”

Jake’s head snapped up. There she was, standing a few feet away, holding onto the handrail. Her smile was warm, and it was impossible not to smile back.

“Y/N! Hey! Uh, good morning,” he said, trying not to sound too eager.

She stepped closer, gripping the pole next to his seat. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” Jake said, quickly scooting over to make room. His heart raced as she sat down.

“So,” Y/N began, adjusting her bag. “Detective Peralta, huh? That sounds like an action hero name.”

Jake grinned. “It’s just part of the job. You know, stopping crime, catching bad guys, making the world a safer place… no big deal.”

Y/N laughed, and Jake felt like he’d won the lottery. “Well, thanks again for saving my glasses.”

“Glad to help,” Jake said. “Though now I’m curious. What keeps you so busy that you’re falling asleep on strangers’ shoulders?”

“Graphic design. Deadlines and caffeine are my life right now,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

“That sounds intense. Any downtime in the mix?” Jake asked.

“Not much. But I’m trying to find a balance. You?” Y/N asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Downtime? What’s that? Pretty sure I’ve forgotten what weekends feel like,” Jake joked, earning another laugh.

The train slowed as it approached the next station. Y/N glanced at the doors and stood up. “This is my stop. Good luck with those weekends, Detective.”

Jake smiled. “Thanks. Have a good one, Y/N.”

She gave him a small wave as the doors opened. “You too.”

As the doors closed behind her, Jake leaned back in his seat, grinning like an idiot. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: I have no idea if this is good enough; I need feedback. Episode 2 will be out soon. trust🙏🙏

[appendingfic]

Sonic: Stone and you just need to bone.

Eggman: BONE?

[deceasedream69]

YOU'RE SAFE

This is LONG, but I hope it's worth it lol

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, torture, SA, cursing, punches and smut (in part 2)

-

Jake woke up slowly, his neck hurted from the position. He tried moving but he couldn't, his hands were tied to the arms of a chair, and his legs too.

He breathed heavily, looking around, adjusting his eyes to the room's lighting.

A man is standing in front of him, a few feet away, leaning on a metal table. Looks like he was waiting for Jake to wake up.

Jake says nothing, waiting for the man to speak first.

- Jake Peralta

Jake's eyes were fixed on the man, he didn't know what all of this was about, confused, cold, hungry and very scared.

His chest went up and down rapidly, heavy, his hands moving under the ropes.

- you're a pain in my ass, did you know that?

Jake just shook his head.

- I've been said that before, no one really took the time to tied me up for it.

The man just laughed.

- guess I'm the first one to do something about it, huh? Let me introduce myself then. My name's John.

- ooh, right, John!

- you have no idea who I am, do you?

- not at all, no. It's hard to remember when your thoughts are tied up.

- and that's how they'll stay

- just saying, you know, this could be really easier if you just untied me and we talked like normal people.

- you know what, Peralta, imma quit playing, you're people is investigating my people, taking really good workers away from me, and for what? For them to rot away between 4 walls.

- well, I mean, it's kinda my job - Jake laughed nervously. Being a police officer meant having a lot of people against you, and just being there, practically at they're feet, was terrifying.

But what was about to come was worse.

A man entered the room, carrying y/n in his arms. She was deeply asleep, probably due to drugs.

Jake moved in the chair, trying to break from the ropes and put you safe.

But, obviously, he couldn't.

They put you over the metal table, tying your hands to some metal bars next to your hips.

The table was cold, Jake's gaze switched from your body placed over the table and the faces of the man tying you up.

You were wearing a white tank top, shorts and socks, that's it.

The weather isn't good for this, she's gonna get cold. Jake's mind was filled with panic about everything that could make you feel bad.

What are they planning on doing? Are they going to hurt her? I can't let that happen, but, I can't just sell my work.

The man leaned against the table again, covering part of your body from Jake's sight, but he could still see your face, so he'll be able to notice if you wake up.

- don't hurt her - there was rush and panic in his voice.

- you don't tell me what to do, I give the instructions here, and they've been set, so talk - he got a knife out of his pocket- or you know what'll go down.

Jake twitched even harder in his seat. Hands gripping at the chair.

Another man grabbed Jake from his shoulder and tied him from the chest, to secure him even more to the chair.

- start talking, Peralta - he made the knife dance above your cheek - I don't really want to ruin this pretty face.

- what- stop- just- what... What do you want to know?

He looked defeated, sighing heavy with disappointment, but lifted his gaze, looking directly to the man's eyes.

I opened my eyes slowly, everything felt heavy, my arms were cold, my neck and head were sore. I tried moving but I just, couldn't, everything felt so heavy and difficult.

- I- I just don't like it, ok? When you play dumb.

He slapped me.

Well, that's a way to wake up. I looked around the room, processing what was happening. I looked at Jake, he looked worried, he was tied to a chair.

The man in front of me seemed to be huge from this perspective.

I blinked a couple of times, trying to understand everything.

- I'm not! Ok? I'm not- it was an honest question, please, don't hurt her

- hurt her? Now you're making demands and still - he got behind the table - not answering what I want.

He got his knife out of the pocket and cut acrossed my arm, not too deep but if felt like hell.

I could feel the drug effects going away.

I screamed in pain and shock.

He took the knife and walked in front of Jake, putting my blood on his face.

- my team found your star worker, Thomas Johnson, they brought him to the station to question him, while being there he said some compromising things, that gave us a warrant to search his house, and that's how we found most information about the drugs. Please, hurt me instead of her, she has nothing to do with this.

- you're a cop, she's a cop, I don't give a fuck, besides, what did I tell you about giving me orders?

Another guy near the table threw a bucket of cold water at me. I really didn't want to seem weak, but hell that shit was cold.

Jake threw his head back, another guy took his head.

- look at her, look what you're causing. Keep talking and she'll have it better.

- That's how we knew where to search, the people working for you and the places you owned. My team went to get them and they all had the same things at their house, so we knew it was teamwork, but none of them seemed to be- well, the head of the operation.

The man laughed.

- of course they didn't.

Jake kept trying to move his head but the guy behind him kept moving it so he would be looking at you the whole time.

Breathing heavy, trying to ignore the cold, even tho your body was shaking like crazy, you had to keep focused.

- keep talking, god dammit, Peralta!

He slapped me again, and then punched me twice.

- STOP! Ok!! After that give tried to give them deals to keep them talking, but no one wanted to talk, so we kept investigating at the sightings, with CIs and undercover agents.

- who are the undercover agents?

- we don't have any at the moment

He got on top of the table, grabbing my neck.

- give me the names, Peralta

- I swear, the mission was cleared while we found another perspective to investigate! I swear! Please, your hurting her.

My head was dizzy with adrenaline, fear, anxiety and all sort of bad things.

The man was huge, he had his hands around my neck and he for sure was strong.

My hands kept trying to break free from the table, gasping for air, tears scaping from my eyes while I watched his face filled with anger.

- I don't believe you, Peralta, that's not good for your girl here.

- please, ok! Fine! Greenhood, Edward Greenhood, I think he goes by the name of trevor or something like that, I'm not sure, he's not exactly from my team.

He let go of my throat and I immediately gasped for air, letting it fill my lungs, it hurted so much, everything hurted.

I turned to look at Jake and he just mouthed "I'm so sorry"

The man went to the back to talk with his guys.

Jake whispered really low.

- I'm sorry, y/n, we'll be fine, I promise

I turned to look at him tiredly. Ain't hard to say that I felt drained, like shit, and like I just wanted to get this over with.

I looked at the ceiling, shivering, closed my eyes and tried to calm myself.

- you've been very helpful Jake.

He said untying me from the table.

- she's been very helpful too, gotta give her props for that.

He carried me in his arms, laying me right in front of Jake, at his feet.

Kneeling beside me, he caressed my hair, putting it behind my ear.

- now, the last thing I asked you - he lifted his eyes to look directly into Jake's, still touching my hair - I need the names of your team.

Jake swallowed hard.

The man came close to my ear, whispering.

- come on darling, tell him, ask him for help.

He sat me up, face to face with Jake. His hand strong at my neck.

- tell him how much you need him to say the names.

- Jake...

His lip quivering, his eyes watery, and his chest going up and down quickly.

- don't give him the names - I said looking directly into Jake's eyes.

He got upset, smashing me against the floor, running his hands through his hair from the anger.

I sat up, spitting blood on the floor.

He quickly grabbed me and threw me to the floor again, pulling my shorts off.

- no, please, no! - I tried pushing him.

- get off her!

- you'll talk - he said grabbing my cheeks - or I won't loose the opportunity with this pretty thing, and trust me, I'll enjoy it very much - he hooked on finger on my underwear, looking at Jake's reaction closely, licking his lips.

He undid his pants, touching under my blouse. Jake, turned his head to the side, preparing himself to talk, but the other guy quickly pushed his head to us.

- look what you're causing - he smiled viciously.

I don't remember anything after that.

- NYPD! ON THE FLOOR NOW! DROP YOUR WEAPONS, YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!

Jake sighed in relief. Turning to look at y/n with pain.

-

You woke up screaming.

- you're safe! It's okay, everything is fine! I'm Jake, I'm here!

He took my hand but I pushed it away.

- it's okay, everything's fine, you're not alone.

His voice was soft but a little loud, for me to hear over my panic attack.

He took my hand again, caressing it slowly while he made sure I was stabilizing.

I froze, my whole body, even my eyes stuck.

- you're safe here, y/n, it's me, Jake, I'm here with you. You're safe, the doctors say everything is fine, ok? Can you hear me?

I barely moved my head, signaling yes.

- that's good, that's very good, I'm glad your okay.

He kissedy head.

I turned to look at him.

- cause, if you disappear, who am I gonna bug?

I small smile appeared on my lips, I laid back down, still not fully comfortable, but already processing that I wasn't in danger anymore.

That's when everything that happened came to my mind.

I didn't- I mean, I knew it wasn't Jake's fault, but... I don't know, it was bothering me the fact that he was intact sitting next to me, trying to reassure me, after not speaking back there.

I mean, I know I told him not to say names, I don't know, everything feels wrong right now.

I move my hand away from his, rubbing my eyes, I don't even want to turn to look at him.

I stay there, frozen.

- it's okay, I know you need to rest, I'm glad you're safe now, we're safe - he gave me a kiss on the forehead and got out of the room.

[deathofacupid]

stupid | jake peralta

a/n: apparently gina's character has haters...

summary: he's an idiot, and you can't help but worry for him.

warnings: cursing, petty y/n (sorry in advance)

pairing: fem!reader x jake peralta (enemies but lovers)

word count: 2.5k+ words

"no, because you're an idiot!"

"i had him!" jake argues back. look at him, thinking he's all smart and crap.

"you quite literally did not," you throw your hands up, exasperated, "he would've blown off your head!"

"he wouldn't have! i would've talked him down!"

"oh, yeah, because you're just so charming," your voice oozes with sarcasm.

"i'll have you know that i am, in fact, quite charming."

"i don't want to even know what your definition of charming is."

"it's-"

"i said i don't want to know. and that's not even the point. how did we get here?"

"because you claimed-"

"it was rhetorical! the point is that you were being stupid and reckless!"

"what about you? is there, like, no trust in this relationship? fine, i might've been a little... but- but it doesn't matter! i could've got him! he wouldn't have shot me."

"yes, he-"

"nuh-uh!"

"yeah!"

"nu-"

"look, peralta. for once in your life, think with your head, not your junk."

he paused, squinting an eye, "uh, spontaneousness is... hot?"

"having my partner bleeding out on the ground, and i hate to break it to you, is not hot."

"subjective."

"it's really not."

"that's also subjective."

"what's also subjective?"

"your opinion on the subjectiveness is subjective, 'kay?"

you pinch the bridge of your nose. "jacob-"

"'jacob'?" he whines. "that's never good."

"-it's not even about your stupid, rash decisions. i'm your partner for this case. you can't just- just go off without me. we work together, you know that. storming into an active crime scene - mind you, with armed shooters-"

"well, if they're shooter, aren't they already armed?"

you give him a look (the millionth one that day). "jake, i am not kidding. and honestly, you shouldn't be either. this whole," you vaugely gesture to him, "childish personality was cute at first, but i'm getting real damn sick of it. grow. up. everyone already has. it's your turn," you jab him in the chest with your finger, jaw clenched.

"okay, wait, so it's not hot?" he calls to you as you storm out. he wasn't really expecting an answer, but jake was disappointed anyways.

you do your best to avoid him the rest of the week, and yes, the silent treatment is petty, but he needs to know you're being legit about this. otherwise, he'll never get it.

you don't want him to get over-confident and pull crap like that. up until now, someone's always had his back.

but what if one day, they just don't?

"mm, i'm thinking there's a little trouble in paradise," gina says, pointing at you, then jake from across the bar.

another case had just been solved, and it was a big one. and who doesn't like to get shit-faced drunk?

not many people, actually.

and, hey, maybe this is what you need. a chance to loosen up, and just for once, not think about that fight.

a chance to loosen up by sulking alone is what you mean, not gina prodding you about your relationship problems.

"okay, well, you go take that big brain of yours and think somewhere else."

"or - and hear me out - you tell me what's going on. i think we should go with the latter."

you sigh, is there any way you're getting out of this? you peer over her shoulder, trying to find amy.

"it's no use, my friend," she says, "we are offically on drink three amy."

"aw, man." from past experience, third drink amy was not helpful amy. you think you like helpful amy better.

much, much better.

especially now.

"now, spilll."

"ugh, fine," you say, as you down another two shots. if you're gonna talk about this, you're gonna need some background help.

"ooh, and she's going down from there," gina whispers.

"jake was being stupid, i got mad at jake for being stupid, jake is mad at me - because, and get this, he thinks i'm the stupid one!" you scoff, "i mean, come on! like, sorry i saved your ass, my bad. won't happen again!"

when you look over at him, he's talking with terry. completely unaffected! it's like, how dare he.

"oh, my god. gina, do you see that? look. at. him." he's laughing with terry and charles, as if nothing ever happened. you did not spend an entire week being petty for nothing.

you grind your teeth and turn back to the bar.

"i'll be honest with you, i have a feeling he doesn't realize you're mad at him."

"i've been avoiding him... all week."

"uh, you might have to step up your game."

"or don't do that," rosa says from beside you, making you jump.

"when did you even get here?" you splutter.

"i'm a good cop."

"or just a really scary ninja," you mutter.

gina tilts her head, "yeah, but if you're over here, who's watching amy?"

rosa blinks, "jake, i guess."

you've never almost snapped your neck that hard. you narrow your eyebrows, "four drink amy."

"is she..." gina pauses, "dirty-talking him?"

"she's drunk," rosa reminds you, to which you nod. "yeah, duh, of course. i can see that. um, very well."

gina cackles, "now, it's how jake responds - that's what matters."

"this is the saddest thing thing i've seen all day."

you shoo her, not looking her direction, "shhh, rosie." she swats your hand away, but you're too busy to notice.

"y/n, he's literally getting her water."

"damn him for being such a gentleman," you mutter.

"jake? gentleman? isn't his sense of humor literally just poop jokes?" you ignore gina's remark too.

you watch charles gently guide amy to a booth in the back, and then your attention is back on jake.

jake and the hot blonde beside him.

gina nods, "and the plot thickens."

"god," you scowl, "look at her with her prada. i hate rich people."

diaz snorts, "think you might be projecting there?"

"definitely," you tell her.

"it looks like small talk, y/n."

"who's side you on, diaz?"

she puts her hands up in mock surrender. "no one's. i'm just doing you a favor by not feeding into your delusions."

"where's sober amy when you need her?" you groan.

"what would you need her for?"

"lip-reading, duh."

"...right," rosa blinks.

you whine, "holdling grudges are so hard."

"they really aren't," diaz shrugs.

"why can't he just be not dumb? do you know how much easier that would make my life. hint: much, much, easier. like, scale out of to ten; 12, easier."

"terry has a wife, right?"

"is that rhetorical? or are you really asking? because he never shuts up about his wife and kids."

"do you think-" you start.

"that he could help you figure out what's happening between the two of you?" a deeper voice says.

"god!" you exclaim, "you guys just come out of nowhere!"

"well, terry would love to help you."

"okay, first, i was gonna say 'help me by talking sense into him', not have a couple's counseling."

"i think you should talk to him," terry says.

"no, no, you should talk to him. he totally started this."

"what happened?"

you frown, "n-"

"nothing is not a valid answer. because, trust me, everyone at the precinct know it's something."

"everyone?" you squeak.

"everyone," he confirms.

"i second that," rosa adds, "you guys are normally on top of each other."

"...yeah," gina winces, recalling the storage room incident.

"you really think i should just talk to him?"

"i do."

you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, debating this. "i just... i feel like if i talk to him... he'll automatically think i'm okay with it. like i'm letting it go or something."

terry gives you one of those looks, "maybe that's why you should talk to him."

you pause for a moment longer, before deciding he's right.

ignoring him has done nothing, which is the opposite of what you're intent was. you want everything to be okay again, so maybe the silent treatment isn't the right thing.

you have to try somthing else.

and, by the looks of it, it's talking to him.

you slid off the barstool, playing with the end of your hair as you approach him.

maybe if you'd gotten up a little earlier, as his girlfriend, that stupid blonde wouldn't think it was okay to shamelessly flirt with him. you raise an eyebrow as she rest a hand on his bicep, and he does nothing to stop her.

does he not realize she's clearly feeling him up?

you turn back to your small group of friend, giving them a look that says "what now?".

before any of them can respond, someone taps your shoulder. "jesus! what's with scaring the shit out of me today?"

you except it to be hitchcock or scully so you can let some hot air out by screaming at them. it is not in fact either of those to.

standing in front of you is the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. "i'm a good cop!" you blurt.

"sorry if i startled you," oh god, he's british too.

if you weren't dating jake, you'd be all over this guy. but honestly, he doesn't hold a candle to your boyfriend.

but... does he know that?

you put on a polite smile as you shake your head. "no, i'm all good."

"cool, then," he remarks, leaning against the slab of the bar. okay, okay, slick. "one kamikaze, please." the man turns to look at you, "mind if i get you something?"

"sure," you brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "i'll have..." you scrunch up your nose, "the same thing."

"it's a margarita. just vodka instead."

"pft, i knew that."

he laughs, and it feels so... practiced. like he's done it a thousand times before, nothing but for stage presence. your eyes flit over him, and by his watch, you can tell that just might be the case.

"vincent, by the way." man, rich person name too.

"y/n," you say, shaking his hand. "nice to meet you."

"wow, pretty name for a pretty girl."

you pretend to giggle, squeezing his arm gently. how cliched was that line?

"you're so sweet." you can see jake seething at vincent, and you give him nothing but a petty look.

his attention is clearly not on the girl anymore, and it's just the way you like it.

you decide to indulge in this further, "where you from, pretty boy?" wait, was that too much? too late.

he chuckles, "london, sweets."

"oh, wow. what're you doing all the way over here?"

"ah, just work things."

"really? what's your job?"

"v.p. for a finance company. you?"

"nypd," you say.

"interesting."

you blink, "why?"

"i just- well, you don't see too many female cops. it's more of a... male-dominated thing, you know? and for good reason, i bet," he laughs like it's this insanely funny thing, and you follow along.

"hey, baby," jake comes up beside you, arm around your waist.

"oh, so now i'm 'baby'."

vincent looks from you to him, then back at you.

"you've always been 'baby'!"

"have i? because you looked like you forgot that, over with that blondie."

"are you serious? i wasn't even-"

"great," vincent mutters.

"she's was flirting with you!"

"she really wasn't!"

you give him a look. "okay, so maybe she was, but i swear i didn't know. like, she asked me about that dimond heist! and it's the coolest story to tell!"

"c'mon, you really didn't know? you always know!"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means you can't keep it in your pants and, for some reason, you're proud of it!"

"what about you? you, and i know for a fact, were all giggly with this guy!"

"i think i'll be heading out-"

"don't you dare even move, vinny."

"seriously? vinny?" jake scoffs.

"and i was only over here because i thought you were flirting with her!"

"so it's some stupid, petty, misunderstanding?"

"stupid? oh-ho, you want stupid, jakey? what's stupid is trying to take on an armed criminal while unarmed."

"god, this again? i told you i had it!"

"guys!" you call to rosa and boyle, "enlighten us - him - did jake really 'have it'?"

neither of them respond. in fact, charles finds the rim of his shot glass very interesting.

"that's what i thought," you say, finishing your shot and slamming it down.

you march right out, and it's not until you make it out that you realize you rallied the attention of everyone in there.

a part of you feels really stupid, but another part is just mad. why doesn't he get that his actions have consequences?

"y/n?"

you quickly wipe away your tears.

"go away. i'm going home," you rummage through your purse for keys. you may have forgotten that you drove here.

"no, you're not. you're intoxinated."

"fuck off."

"it would've been so much cooler if you said 'fuck you'."

"wh- oh, my god."

"sorry, sorry! look, you're right. i didn't want to admit it before, but you are."

"because of your hero complex?"

"i don't- oh."

"yeah," you sniff.

"hey," he says, pulling you in for a hug. he smells like jake, like home. not your house, your home. resting his chin on the top of your head, you're tucked into his neck. "i didn't even know she was f-"

"jake, it's not about her. you know that."

he sighs, "i just don't get it. i mean, it's my job. and my job is dangerous."

"yeah, and you're right. the hostage thing was dangerous, but it didn't have to be that dangerous. if you would've given me just two minutes, i would've been there. i could've helped. you didn't need to do all that."

"what if in that two minutes, they hurt someone?"

"they were so obviously busy. they wouldn't have done anything. they were... dumb. and you just wanted to make your 'cool enterance'."

"okay, yeah, that was part of the reason. but i needed you to trust me."

"and i needed you to keep me in the loop. you just went, i mean, i didn't even find out until you were there."

"alright, i'm sorry. but i'm okay. i'll always be, right? because i've got you," he pauses, "that was cute, right?"

you pull away, "i might not always be there. you got lucky! jake, you... you could've died." your voice breaks, and you don't do anything to conceal it.

"aww, hey," he coos, bringing you back in. "i'm... i'm sorry. seriously, i really am. i didn't know you were worried about that. i thought you were just mad at me for keeping you... in the dark, a little."

"of course i was worried, jakey. you're my boyfriend, and i love you. i don't- i don't know what i'd do if you died out there. so, maybe in hindsight, dating my co-worker wasn't a good a idea."

"i'll be more careful from now on, i promise. it won't happen again," jake finishes, kissing your forehead. "and i love you too."

"okay," you sigh, content.

"does this mean we can have hot, angsty make-up sex?"

"why would it be angsty?"

"is that a no?"

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