ℰmma 𑣲 she / her ꫂ᭪݁ british youtube. autumn child 𝄞 lily allen. yellow ᰋ george clarke’s controversially young girlfriend ♱ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 𐚁 spring જ reqs are open.
summary: another unsolved case draws you back to the precinct in the middle of a night out, and after already having a couple of drinks, it's jake who needs to drive you home to get you into appropriate clothes for work
wc: 2.3k+
cw: jake is kind of pervy but sweet
“Okay, which one of you do I have to blame for being back here!?” You snap, dumping your little purse onto the table in front of you. Everyone in the briefing room turns at the sound of your expected presence, but instead of offering you an answer, everyone freezes. You cross your arms over your chest, watching in live action as at least three pairs of eyes trail to your chest. You instantly drop your arms. You’d spent more time getting ready to go out than you actually spent out with your friends, and a single message just so happened to be enough to pull you away from your first night out in weeks. Now, you’re stood in your place of work wearing tall boots, the tiniest pair of form fitting shorts you own, a revealing top, and of course a full face of smokey makeup.
“Not me.” Jake scoffs awkwardly, sliding his hands across the table in front of him and very guiltily looking around at his coworkers. He swallows thickly, eyes immediately returning to you. You huff, sliding into the closest seat and crossing one exposed leg over the other. “Eyes to yourself, Hitchcock!” You snap, scoffing with an eye roll. The old man turns away from you slowly, mumbling something under his breath. The others only turn their chairs towards you, and its only when you raise your eyebrows at them that someone starts talking. Unfortunately for you, that person is Amy.
“You look ready to go out!” She smiles, shimmying her shoulders slowly in attempt to be relatable. She catches her actions before anyone has to call them out, and lets her face fall, shaking her head. “I was out. And I was having fun and I was seeing my friends, and now I’m back here.” Charles squints his eyes at you, leaning closer to you. “Friends other than us?” He questions, and you throw your arms out, saying “Fucking obviously, Charles!”
You whine, lips falling into a pout, and Jake smirks from where he’s sat in front of you as you throw your head back. “This is so unfair, Jake!” Jake swallows thickly, feeling his heart thump aggressively in his chest at the way you whine his name. You lean forward onto the table in front of you, resting your chin on one of your propped up hands. “Someone’s already had a couple of drinks, huh?” Asks Amy, trying to lighten up your mood. Rosa laughs before you even answer Amy at the glare you shoot her, covering her mouth when you shoot “And what about it, Santiago? At least I’ve got some friends I can drink with.”
Amy nods curtly, leaning back in her chair as Sarge and Captain Holt enter the room for the briefing. You feel the Captain’s eyes settle on you immediately, and he keeps them on you as he begins “Apologies everyone, I know you all have places to be tonight, but Detective Peralta here seems to have made the mistake of making an arrest with no evidence on a friday night. As of now, we have 47 hours to find evidence. If anyone needs to go home and get changed quickly but is too... intoxicated to drive, let Peralta take you.”
Jake stiffens, and you instantly know that he wants to argue his punishment, but Captain Holt has already left the room. Jake spins in his chair, looking at you and asking with a nervous smile “You don’t happen to have spare clothes in your locker, do you?” You smile at him, enunciating lowly “I get to choose the music in the car.”
Rosa chuckles when you stand sharply, flicking your head as you spin in direction of the exit, then tightly grasp the back of a chair to stabilise yourself when dizziness overtakes you. “Woah.” She mutters, and you glance back to see what she’s talking about, but her eyes trail up your body to look at you with wide eyes as she asks “Sick tattoo.”
You twist your torso in an attempt to get a sneak peak of the ink on your skin as you thank her. You glance over to Jake and Charles, both of whom stand with their mouths agape, and you raise an eyebrow, barely prepared for Jake’s dazzling smile to return to his face with the overly excited comment of “Oh, you’re all tramped up!”
“Tramp stamp. You know I almost got one of those in…” Charles lets himself trail off when you all turn your attention to him, and he shrugs as an announcement that he has silenced himself. “Didn’t take you for the type to have a tramp stamp.” Jake says again, eyes flitting down to where your tattoo is no longer showing. Instead, he’s momentarily distracted by the sight of your breasts in the top you’re wearing. He clears his throat uncomfortably.
“Nah, it makes total sense.” Rosa denies, nodding your head at you. “It does?” Jake asks, and the woman shrugs, saying “Go partying with her once and you’ll see it.”
“Come on Peralta, you’re driving.” Jake scurries behind you when you spin around again, leaving the room. He grabs your forgotten purse on the way out, his eyes dipping down to your tattoo again.
When you both get in the car, Jake hands you the cable connected to his car’s radio, and whilst you pick the music on your phone, he risks a glance at you. Sure, Jake has always thought you were beautiful. After all, the man has basically had a crush on you since joining the precinct, but he’s never managed to see you all dressed up for a night out, because whenever the squad goes out, it's for a casual drink after work or an unexciting holiday. This isn't just hot though, it's almost unbearable for the man. “Sorry I ruined your night.”
You glance up at Jake, shrugging your shoulders with a small smile on your glittery lips. “I’m sure you can find a way to make it worthwhile for me.” Jake gulps, and you giggle to yourself, reaching over to increase the volume of the music you’ve hooked to the car.
When Jake parks his car, he watches you sling your purse over your shoulder, gathering all your hair in a ponytail to untangle it from the bag’s strap. He smiles when you push the door open, climbing out of the passenger’s seat, and his eyes go wide when your thighs separate from the leather seat, your shorts climbing up your legs.
“I’ll wait here!” Jake calls out, and you tilt your head to the side with an expression of disbelief. “Come on Jake, you know I’m going to take forever!”
Jake chuckles, then nods his head, joining you on the sidewalk in front of your building. He’s been here once, maybe twice before, and still, he’s impressed that you’re blessed with a functioning elevator that takes you to your apartment on the fourth floor. Under the bright lights of the elevator, Jake gets a better look at you while you stare at yourself in the mirror, playing with your hair and inspecting your makeup. He can’t believe you had the courage to step into your workplace like this, especially around the eager eyes of younger, uniformed policemen.
Not that you need to have courage to go out like this, Jake thinks, it’s just that you look dangerously stunning. And above all else, your shorts really are tiny, and not only do they show the lowest sliver of your back, where you have your tattoo on display, but they also show off the plump fat of your ass that peeks from underneath the fabric. The elevator doors open, and despite knowing which door leads to your flat, Jake accepts the way you grab his hand, leading him there yourself.
Yes, your apartment has more than one room in it, but you insist that Jake sits down in your room with you. He doesn’t know how you afford to live somewhere so nice, or to sleep on such a nice mattress, but Jake enjoys it while he’s there, watching as you go through items in your closet in a desperate attempt to find something to wear. You’ve done this today already, Jake can tell from the much flimsier items that are already on your floor. “Just wear the pants you had on this morning.” Jake suggests, smiling when you spin around your room, trying to locate them. He stands up, deciding to try and be of help, and he walks to your spacious bathroom.
God, he’s envious of this place.
His eyes almost instantly find your laundry basket, and he freezes at the sight of lacy panties dangling from its edge, and another pair on the floor next to familiar trousers. He doesn’t know why he hesitates like that, but he bends down to pick up your pants, feeling his pants tighten uncomfortably when he spots a bra not far.
Jake needs to remind himself that he’s a grown man. He’s seen underwear and naked women before, and this really shouldn’t be a big deal because none of it is sexual at all. But this stuff belongs to you, it has been on your body and who knows, maybe tonight a man was going to come home with you to take the next pair of lacy panties off your body if Jake hadn't stopped it from happening.
“Found them!” Jake calls, holding the pants up. You come running into the bathroom, leaning down to unzip your boots, one hand clutching Jake’s arm to keep you steady. You kick the boots into the bathroom somewhere, fingers immediately working at undoing your shorts, and whilst Jake respectfully averts his gaze from you as you undress, he knows there probably isn’t much more to see. It’s not like the shorts were hiding much.
Probably.
Jake catches onto your reflection in the mirror as you slide your shorts down your legs — whether that was a conscious choice of not, he’s unsure, but he does know that his mouth goes dry at the sight of you wearing simple black underwear. Unfortunately for him, it does uncover more than the shorts, but Jake forces himself to shut his eyes as you take the pants from him. Before today, Jake had never even seen you remotely dressed up (apart from that time Gina and Charles’s parents got married, but that doesn’t count compared to this), and now you’re standing in front of Jake in almost nothing. Pretty much.
“Okay, now all I need is a shirt. Easy, easy, easy, easy - fuck! Jake, I have nothing to wear!” The detective gently grabs you by your biceps, looking at you firmly. His eyes flit down to the smudged glitter around your lips, and he suggests “How about you sit and take your makeup off, and I can find you a top to wear?” You nod wordlessly, and Jake is surprised when you follow him back to your room, sitting down at your vanity to take your makeup off. In the meantime, he goes through your closet, surprisingly gentle as he handles each and every item of clothing. He finally lands on a top he knows he’s seen you wear to work before, so he offers it to you with hopes that you’ll accept it, but you don’t even check which item he’s given you before you’re sliding out of your shirt to put this one on. You clumsily reach for the tube of mascara on your vanity, and Jake furrows his eyebrows as you brush the wand through your lashes, thickening them with product.
Despite the extensive floor space in your bedroom, you almost slam straight into Jake’s chest when you get up again, apologising softly as you reach for your purse, emptying its contents on your bed so you can pick and choose the items you need.
“I’m sorry for ruining your night.” Jake repeats, his words softer now, more genuine. “Don’t worry about it, Jake.”
He doesn’t move from in front of you, taking all of you in. You somehow did a full transformation into professionalism in ten minutes, and Jake realises he likes this version of you more than the sexy one that had his dick hardening in his boxers, because this is the you he’s faced with every day.
“We should go.” Jake mumbles, but he doesn’t move, even when you lay a hand on his arm to nudge him. He nods, following you out of your flat. Just as you’re locking the door behind you, Jake’s phone begins buzzing. He picks it up and holds it to his ear, nodding along to whatever the person on the other side of the line is saying, and shortly after hangs up, even though he barely even said anything. He purses his lips into an awkward line, slowly looking at you, and you instantly know what has happened. “Don’t tell me.” You please, shoulders slumping.
“Rosa and Charles found evidence. They’ve finished the arrest.” Jake stiffens when you take a step towards him, letting your head slump against his bicep. He hears a mumbled “Nothing in my life is fair!” and can’t help but scoff in amusement.
“Hey, I can still try to make tonight worthwhile. A make or break, I think.” You lift your head up, gazing curiously at Jake. He shrugs his shoulders, thinking all or nothing, then reaches up to cup your cheeks, bringing you forward into a kiss. You gasp softly against his lips, bringing your hands up to his chest as you press your body against the man’s, letting him deepen the kiss as he pleases. When you pull away, you mumble “You know, you could’ve done this fifteen minutes ago an I wouldn’t have gotten changed for nothing.”
“Hey, don’t worry, I can help take those clothes off too.” You laugh at Jake’s comment, looking up at him curiously before fishing for your keys again. “Yeah? Come show me how.”
Harry 'Wroetoshaw' Lewis x fem!reader
A/N: consumption of alcohol. Harry is down bad for Sidemen Producer!reader - she is not drunk. swearing, (drunk) kissing, suggestiveness + mentions of nausea/throwing up. this was for my 'Xx' anon, they know who they are - Tumblr deleted the ask and i can't remember all the deets exactly so im sorry </3 pre-established relationship. harry isn't a nice drunk (he bodyshames ethan) reader has an ex-fiancé and is quite awkward and oblivious. reader is shorter than harry but otherwise no description. i love producer!y/n but that's lowk because i act like her irl. perhaps a p2 if anyone wants it but idk what i'd write (i possibly have ideas for a SMAU but pls send me some!)
WORD COUNT: 3919
You wake up groggily on your living room sofa to the sound of car doors slamming outside of your semi-detached house. You sit up, your neck sore from the way you’d been slumped down and as you look around trying to regain your bearings, you see your laptop on the coffee table, its screen black from unuse.
A wave of panic rushes through you, jolting you fully awake. Shit. You remembered now. You’d been in the middle of running the budgets for the next Sidemen shoot- and you never finished doing them because you stupidly fell asleep. You rub your eyes harshly, willing your brain to work. You’re alone, but you still feel so out of place. You grab your laptop off of the coffee table and rise, the hem of your shorts barely peeking out from beneath the oversized t-shirt. You can tell that your hair is a mess, but you don’t want to look in the mirror.
“Y/NNNNNNNNNNN!” There is very loud and very annoying knocking on your front door. The person is screeching your name at the top of their lungs, and if you were more inside your brain, the voice would’ve registered as Harry Lewis- one of your bosses.
You grumpily march towards the front door, where the knocking still continues. Your laptop is against your side, and you yank the door open. Harry nearly falls into your house, only supported by a completely sober Ethan, who grins at you. “Y’alright, mate?” He greets.
“Ethan? Harry? It’s like-” You crane your neck to check the wall-mounted clock, wincing as it cracks, “two in the morning. Is everything okay?” Well, obviously it wasn’t. The cold night air invades your home, and you can smell Harry from where you’re standing. He smells like he dove into a pool of gin and beer. Gross.
Harry notices you wrinkle your nose at him and his face falls. He leans heavily on Ethan, who scrambles to keep Harry upright as he tries to straighten up. “Y/NNNN!” He screeches again, even though you’re standing right in front of him. Ethan removes one of his hands from Harry’s torso so that he can conceal a laugh. “YOUUU didn’t come to our party tonight.” He points accusingly. Your eyes widen, and you glance at Ethan, who can’t seem to look you in the eyes.
“Yeah. I kind of had stuff to do-”
“IT’SSSNOT IMPORTANT STUFF!” Harry shakes his head pityingly at you, his blond hair falling messily. “All of these excuses, y/n!”
“If I don’t do this ‘unimportant stuff’, you guys don’t have a job anymore. You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that.” As if Harry can sense the minor hostility in your voice, he doesn’t comment. He is drunk off of his head, and you sincerely doubt he’ll remember this tomorrow. “So, what brings you two here? Again, at two AM in the morning.”
“He refused to be dropped off anywhere else, y/n. Bog was practically crying ‘cause he thought I was taking him to his flat instead of here.” Ethan rubs a hand on Harry’s back in a patronising sympathy. Harry turns to his friend, betrayed.
“Er- ETHAN! I was not fucking crying, thank you! I just wante– I wanted to see y/nnnn. Where is she?” He looks around, before his eyes land on you and his face lights up. You can’t help but let a small smile spread across your face. “Y/N! There you are. I missed you!” Harry’s voice reaches a shrill volume again, and you wince, knowing that your poor neighbours will be hearing every word. There’s a quiet trill of excitement inside of your mind, caused by the fact that Harry missed you.
“Here I am.” You say agreeably. “Well. You’ve seen me. Which means I guess you guys can go?” You try to close the door, but Harry frees himself from Ethan’s grip, putting his full body weight on it. Both you and Ethan put an arm forwards, scared that he’s going to fall. You place your laptop on the console table by the door. “Harry-”
“Oh, say my name again, please.” You share another glance with Ethan, both of you cringing at Harry’s words. He’s gonna hate himself in the morning, but there’s a part of you that’s kind of loving him right now. “I don’t wanna- I want to stay here. Don’t wanna go with fuckin’ Ethan. That fat fuckin’ prick I can barely even fit in the car-” He murmurs to himself.
You had heard that Harry was a mean drunk, even seen it in person a few times- like when he told ChrisMD’s ex that no one would care if she died, but it always seemed like he made an effort to not be as Harry-like towards you. And also, there was that one time when he called your ex-fiancé, Patrick, a (to quote him) “pig-faced fucker who was seriously punching above his weight” and then said he’d be “surprised if [you] didn’t leave Patrick for someone with a bigger dick and bigger wallet”, but, if anything, that was kind of a compliment to you.
He’d apologised after, of course, and both you and Harry moved on with your lives. Although, if you were being honest, it kind of seemed like Harry didn’t want to spend time with you outside of the office after that - which was fine! Up until 5 months ago, you were happily engaged, and the only time Harry had been to your house was when you and Patrick had your house-warming party, so you were even more surprised that he remembered your address and wanted to come to your house.
“Oi!” Ethan poked his friend in the side. “You’re bigger than me right now. Keep that filthy mouth shut, Bog!”
Harry shakes his head emphatically, moving off of your door and back towards Ethan, “Nah! You’re packing on them pounds again, Behz. Swear to God. Swear to God.” You continue to watch awkwardly as they bicker in your doorway. You check the wall mounted clock again, and see that not as much time had passed as you thought.
You clear your throat, bringing the attention back onto you. “Oh gosh, look at the time. Well. It’s been lovely seeing you both. Erm- I’m not like, in the office tomorrow but if you need anything you both have my email address. So. Yeah. Have a good night, guys.” Your grip on your front door tightens and you go to close it. Harry practically launches himself at you.
“DON’TTTLEAVE!” Harry shrieks.
“I’m not the one leaving, Harry!” You raise your voice slightly, and he stops still, looking like a kicked puppy. He collapses onto Ethan, loudly fake sobbing.
“Oughh, she hates me! Ethan, Behz, y/n hates me.” Ethan rubs a hand on his back, shooting you another apologetic shrug. “She’sssooooomeantoME!” You tiredly rub your eyes. Harry continues to wail on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan notices that you’re drooping, and tries to pull Harry away.
“C’mon, Bog. Let’s get you home, shall we?”
Harry also seems to realise this. He straightens up again. “No. No. I want to be here. With y/n!” Harry says, shaking his head with such force that you’re genuinely worried he might make himself sick. “You’re trying-trying to take me awayyyyy!” He begins to fake sob again.
Ethan quietly leans around past Harry to you, “Look, I’m really sorry but I do actually need to go home, even if Harry doesn’t want to. I promised Faith-”
You wave him off, looking at Harry who is seemingly deaf on account of his own volume, “I- you know what, it’s fine. I’ll just call him a taxi or something. And I have like, a spare room, I guess. If all else fails. So-” There’s a selfish part of you that wants to be the one to take care of him, and you feel slightly nauseous at that.
“I promise, y/n, I’ll pay you back if you have to get him a cab.” He leans back in towards Harry, who is still fake crying. “BOG!” Ethan yells in his ear, making him jump and glare at Ethan. “I have to leave. Either join me or don’t. y/n has offered very kindly to house you for the night or order you a taxi-” Without even saying goodbye, Harry bolts past Ethan into your house. “Well.” You both stand there for a second before laughing.
“I should- make sure he doesn’t like, break anything. I guess. Get home safe, Ethan. Give my love to Faith and Olive.” Ethan nods and smiles, waving as he goes to get in his car. You close the door, leaning your head against it for the moment. You inhale, lock the door, and exhale. It’s fine. It’s just Harry. In the house you used to share with your ex-fiancé. Who Harry famously didn’t like. Where there were still some pictures hanging around the place because you couldn’t bring yourself to take them down yet. You grab your laptop off of the hallway table, and go to find Harry.
You walk through the living room, and see evidence of where he kicked his shoes off, you pick them both up, tucking them under your arm. Harry’s in your kitchen, and he’s somehow managed to find your secret stash of white wine. He’s set up two glasses on the counter (neither matching nor wine glasses, but you’ll let it slide), but you see him with his back to you, and realise he’s actually just necking the bottle. You stand frozen for a second. It’s then you decide that nope, Harry cannot get a taxi home. He’ll get murdered and left for dead in the streets of London, and it’ll all be your fault. And you’ll be fired!
But what exactly can you do when one of your bosses is downing a bottle of wine in your kitchen at 2AM?
You clear your throat, feeling like an intruder in your own home. Harry slowly turns on his heel, eyes wide. He slowly lowers the bottle, wiping his mouth. He smiles awkwardly, a deer caught in the headlights. “y/nnnnn!” He drawls in a sing-song tone. Harry swills the bottle around, nodding towards the two glasses. It’s over half empty.
You sigh again, drawling back in the same tone, “Harry.” His grin widens, and he moves to pour the drinks. “No! No.” He pouts at you, but puts the wine down. He staggers over to you.
“y/n! y/n! I need to tell you something.” He grins like he’s about to share a big secret, leaning in conspiratorily. You shake your head, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.
“You can tell me in the morning. If you remember. If it’s that important.”
“OOOOOO! SHE’SLETTINGMESTAYYYY THE NIGHTTT!” His screech is so slurred at this point, that you genuinely consider googling ‘stroke symptoms’. You nod semi-patronisingly. He’s left nearly all of your cabinets open and has also been rooting through your drawers, but you cannot bring yourself to care at this present moment in time. “y/n, you are a-” he hiccups, “naughty, naughty girl- not a girl. No, because that sounds noncy. You are a naughty woman-” You’ve begun to just nod along as he speaks, moving him out of the kitchen, through the living room and towards the stairs. You exhale, thinking about how you can manoeuvre him upstairs, but luckily, you need not think too hard.
Harry’s head perks up, and he practically scampers upstairs. You balk, dropping his shoes by the front door and following. Who knows what kind of havoc he could wreak up there?! “Harry- HARRY!” You yelp, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. Instead, you hear the sound of him opening doors. You’re not specifically worried about whichever rooms he goes into, it’s more so what he does to them. On the first floor, there’s your bedroom (which has a tiny ensuite with a tiny shower), the little box room that doubles as your office, and the guest room- but he is still Harry- drunk Harry.
You realise any sound of movement has stopped and as you reach the top of the stairs, not looking where you’re going, you slam into a solid body, and Harry is bringing you into a hug. “Wha-”
“Ohhh, y/n. Ohhh, y/n.” He repeats like he’s soothing a child, rocking back and forth. It’s so warm in his arms, but you don’t find yourself pulling away. In the morning, you’ll blame it on the suddenness and him being drunk, but right now, it’s nice to leave it blameless. “I shouldn’t have- shouldn’thavecalledyou naughty. You aren’t naughty, you’re lovely. Lovely, lovely y/n. Lovely y/n.” You can feel him bury his face in your hair and breathe in deeply. It’s nice in his arms, and you don’t want to talk about the tears brimming on your waterline. Just two more seconds, you think. Just two more.
You are true to your thoughts, and begin to pull away, leading to Harry only pulling you closer and squeezing. “You- you cannot leave. You’ve been soooooooooo sad, y/n. Sosososososo sad.YOU DIDN’T EVEN COME OUT TONIGHTTT!”
“Harry-” You pull yourself away from his chest, looking into his eyes. “You don’t even talk to me when I go out, so does it matter?”
He sputters indignantly. “Does it- does it fucking matter? Y/N! Whodoyo- are you trying to offend me?! Shut the fuck up. I wanted to- want to talk to you more, but stupidfuckingPatrickandhisTINYdick-” You cringe at the mention of your ex, but have to hold back a laugh at Harry’s insult. You hadn’t allowed yourself to laugh at jokes about it (the breakup, not his dick), really. It just never felt right. But Patrick had never cared for your feelings so, you supposed it didn’t matter anymore. “HE TOLD ME TO LEAVE YOU ALONE!” Harry screams right in your ear, looking shocked when you flinch away, but you’re also shocked by this information.
You decide to lead Harry to the spare room, grabbing onto his arms- which are, as you are now realising despite having seen them practically everyday for the past 3 years, fucking strong- in order for him to follow you. “What do you mean?” You say, both prying for information and to make sure he doesn’t realise that you’re moving him. Harry holds your elbows, more than happy to look into your eyes.
“He- fucking. That dick! Everyone was-” He nearly falls over and you nearly go with him, laughing nervously as you save him. “OHHHH, Y/N! My saviour. My lovely y/n. Do you know- and this is real. You have to trust me. Everyone, including fucking Tobi who loves practically everyyyybody, were saying that you could do sooooo much better than him. He is- well was, because you left him, thank the Lord-”
It came out of your mouth before you could stop it, “He left me, actually. For his brother’s ex-wife. So-” Harry stops. He drops his arms to his side, mouth agape. You awkwardly glance at him.
He’s silent for what feels like hours but is actually more like 20 seconds before he explodes. “WHA- Y/N?? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?”
“I mean. Yeah?”
“HE LEFT YOU? Patrick? FUCKING PATRICK?” You nod at him slowly. “Y/N? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” You blink at him.
“Well, we aren’t exactly close- like, you know. And like, we didn’t talk much and I figured if you wanted to know what happened then you would’ve asked me, I guess?” You try and grab him again to take him to the bedroom. He lets you touch him, but is unwilling to move, like he’s in a state of shock. Harry looks like he wants to grab you by the shoulders and yell in your face, but is restraining himself.
“y/n, I gen- genuinely might vomit.”
“Please don’t.”
Harry doesn’t seem like he heard you, and you can tell he’s gearing up for his next rant. “y/n- that fucking Patrick- PATDICK! PADICK!” You nod out of compliance, a pacifying smile spreading across your face. “You- Do you remember when we all went out and I got mean? He was all like ‘Ehhh, you’re not funny, Harold. I think you want to shag my bird’ and I said ‘Well obviously, it’s y/n’ and he tried to punch me! He tried to punch me and yet I was the one who had to apologise! It’s a fucking- a fucking scandal. And then- AND THEN, y/n-” He grabs your shoulders to make sure you’re still listening, but he doesn’t do it hard enough to hurt you. “He sent me a- a message on fucking Snapchat- WE ARE 26 YEARS OLD- and was acting all big man tough but he will never be Ethan Behzinga. And then I wasn’t allowed to talk to you-” He borderline whines. “And I like talking to you so I was fucking pissed. Because you’re myyyy lovely y/n.” Harry smiles toothily. “I can talk to you again. You’re like the only- only only person I want to talk to. AND HE WAS SHAGGING ANOTHER BIRD ANYWAY! SO WE COULD’VE BEEN DOING IT THIS WHOOOOLE TIME GUILT-FREE!”
You ignore that last comment as your heart stops for a moment. You can feel yourself searching for something in his face- you don’t know what, but all you see written across his features is… fondness. Like he genuinely cares about you. Like he wants something with you. You don’t know what to do with it, so you do what you do best.
“Okay. Thank you, Harry. Let’s get you to bed.” You immediately revert to short sentences, trying to digest what you’ve been told. Harry pouts at this, but you look away from him. “It should be okay, I don’t have any pyjamas for you-”
“I sleep dick out, balls akimbo.” He says proudly, and you feel yourself grow warm, patting him on the back in a ‘that’s nice, honey’ gesture.
“Well, that works out perfectly.” You say without thinking, and you see Harry’s grin grow wide across his face. “Don’t say anything. It came out wrong.”
“I can come in- I can come in, RIGHT!” He laughs like he’s the funniest person ever, and in spite of yourself you grin. “There’s that pretty smile. I missed it.” He grabs your cheeks in his fingers, “OOOOO, someone’s warmmmm. Take your clothes off, you’ll get cooler.”
“Okay. That’s enough, Harry.” You pull your face back, leading him to the spare room. You push him down onto the bed, and you can tell from his face that he’s cooking up something foul to say. You put a finger over his mouth and he smiles cheekily behind it. “You remember how a bed works, right? And the bathroom is downstairs so please don’t like- throw up or anything.” He nods, just staring at you. “Okay. I’m-” His stare is so intense you lose track of what you’re saying. “I’m going to go to bed. Sleep well, Harry. Sweet dreams.” He smiles dumbly and raises his hand in a lazy wave. You don’t look back as you leave the room.
You stand outside the door for a few seconds, trying to digest whatever the fuck that was. You just hope he works up early in the morning, and slips out without saying goodbye so you never have to talk about this ever again.
You haven’t even realised that the door behind you had opened, until you feel Harry grab your shoulder and turn you around. You only manage to squeak out a small “Wha-” before his mouth is on yours.
It’s open-mouthed and messy and hot, one of his hands cradling the back of your head, the other holding your waist. It takes you a minute to kiss back, but when you do you reciprocate it ferociously. You can taste the alcohol on his lips but you don’t care. His lips are chapped but you don’t care. It feels wrong and right and like everything you’ve ever wanted.
Harry brings you back into the room, still kissing you as he moves, pinning you in against the wall. He grunts softly against your mouth, his hands roving up and down your body. One of your arms settles around his shoulders, the other grabbing his bicep, both of them working together to try and bring him closer to you. You can feel the blood pulse in your ears and fingertips, and every inch of your body feels friable against him. A few minutes pass of your bodies intermingling before you pull away. Harry tries to chase your mouth, but when you turn your head away, he begins to kiss and nibble down your neck.
It makes you laugh, “Harry.” He pays you no mind. “Harry!”
He hums against your skin.
“Harry, c’mon.” You pull him off of you. He pouts again, pulling you off of the wall and into his arms. “You have to sleep. Please. And you are so drunk. I’m sorry.” It’s just dawning on you what happened. “Oh my God, you are so drunk. Holy fuck, Harry, I’m so sorry.”
He raises a withering eyebrow at you. “Erm, y/n. I think you’ll find that I was the one who kissed you. And I’ve been wanting to do it for a while, thank you very much. I am a man who takes an opportunity when he sees one, and this felt like a good one! Don’t you agree?”
The fact that you don’t reply is answer enough for Harry, who begins to kiss all over your face. You push him onto the bed for a final time, and he looks up at you excitedly. “No- No. I-” You sigh. How the fuck do you reply to that? “I enjoyed it, yes-”
“FUCK YEAH!” He screeches. “That’s all we needed. You enjoyed it, hey presto, we’re in love.”
You blanche at his words, but he doesn’t notice. “Harry.”
He looks up at you, his big blue eyes expectant. “Lovely y/n.”
“It was enjoyable. It was a good opportunity. And I would like to do it again.”
Harry’s mouth drops open from joy as he begins to silently roll around on the bed in excitement. You have to stifle a laugh.
“But, it is really something we should talk about.”
“I WAS TRYINGGG! I WAS SOOO ROMANTIC! I borrowed your wine-”
“You stole my wine.”
“AND I SET UP THE GLASSES-”
“They weren’t wine glasses.”
“And you’re lucky I couldn’t find any candles because trust me, your knickers would’ve been on the- on the fucking floor from the sheer romantsy of it.” Your mouth drops open hearing him talk about your knickers. How the fuck do you reply to THAT?! He senses it. “Too far?”
“I mean, slightly. Yeah. Look, Harry, if you go to bed now, I promise, we can talk about this in the morning. If you remember.”
“Trust me, y/n. I don’t think I could ever forget.” He smiles dumbly at you. And before you leave the room, saying your goodnights again, you gently kiss him on the forehead. His entire face flushes red.
You leave the room, closing the door much like earlier, only this time, you have a smile on your face, and only one word rings in your mind.
⋆˚꩜｡ pm or comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist ! and before anyone asks, I did send lizzie/buttlesangel a message letting her know I was doing a UKYT!DC AU and that Alfie would be Batman, I'm not copying her at all xx 🫶🫶🫶
contents: how the boys would be as dads and their favourite baby names
nykchazza
-> he would pray to have a little boy, just so he could teach him how to play football and take him to his first Arsenal game
-> when you told him your pregnant, the first thing he did was order your favourite food and cuddle you for hours
-> ginge was the obvious choice for godfather and your best friend was the godmother
-> during your pregnancy he would stop streaming early to help you out and cuddle with you all night, and even learnt how to braid your hair for you to sleep at night
-> for a girl he loved the name Lila and for a boy either Malakai or Kobi
angry ginge
-> Morgan didn’t care what the gender was, he was still gonna teach them to play football
-> he cried when he found out you were pregnant, more than happy to be a dad and spend the rest of his life with a family
-> his only want was that Chazza was the godfather but other than that it was all up to you, so you made his sister Tasha godmother too
-> he would laugh when you got moody at the other boys, but would then step in and defuse the situation
-> he would buy the best strollers and baby clothes, making sure you and your baby had literally everything you would want and need
-> his dream names varied but in the end he liked Bonnie for a girl and James for a boy
heinz baines
-> GIRL DAD SUPREMACY!!
-> as soon as you thought you were pregnant you called him so he could take the test with you
-> it wasn’t a planned pregnancy but he didn’t care, he just adored the idea of having a little baby with his last name
-> he didn’t mind who the godparents were but you knew he wanted Eva to be a godmother even though she was still young, so you chose her and your brother (or cousin/friend if you don’t have one)
-> this man would make the nursery the prettiest and most calm area in the world
-> he kinda wanted a Irish name Saoirse or Caoimhe, but then fell in love with Alannah for a girl and Lachie for a boy
harry lewis
-> he was very emotional when he found out, and I mean very very emotional
-> the first thing harry did was call Cal out of all people and got laughed at as he cried over the phone to him
-> you and him both agreed that you wanted Ethan and Faith as the godparents, but you also had Cal as a second godfather
-> he was a complete idiot during labour and even started bouncing around on one of the big rubber balls while you were laying in the bed
-> he loved the name Harley and always wanted to name his child it no matter what gender it was
jakey davies
-> his cried and laughed at the same time when he found out
-> you told him before anyone and just sat in bed together crying and holding each other
-> he kinda wanted a little boy, but didn’t care as long as they were a healthy and happy baby
-> for your kid you chose to have four godparents, two guys and two girl. so he chose Beano and Charlie for the godfathers and you chose your sister and best friend for the godmothers (or just two best friends)
-> he was so excited to tell his family, he even arranged a whole dinner so they could all find out at once
-> his dream name for a boy was Louis and Billie for a girl
alfie buttle
-> he honestly took parenting to another level, quit vaping, made a savings account just for the baby and started to take a lot of things more seriously
-> he wanted a boy and everyone knew it
-> chip was his first pick for a godfather but he didn’t really mind you choosing who you wanted, because in his opinion you were much smarter when it came to that kind of stuff
-> ab would buy little random baby things like clothes and shoes every time he went shopping just to make sure there was options
-> even though you always said no he stuck by the name Ford for a boy, but you both loved the name Brielle for a girl
tays
-> when you told him that your pregnant he fell in love with you all over again, and imagined your whole future together
-> he was quick to call his mum and Jensen who both balled their eyes out
-> he wanted a few kids so honestly didn’t mind if it was a boy or a girl, because he knew they could try again if you wanted
-> even though he wanted Jens to be the godfather, you chose your brother and sister and chose Jensen as a second just cause of his age
-> his dream baby names were Berkeley and Reese for both boys and girls
george clarke
-> he was like a frog on acid when you told him, jumping all around and falling onto the bed when he was finished
-> in his heart he wanted a girl, but still loved the idea of having a little son
-> he chose Arthur as the godfather with the simple explanation of ‘he’s the most sensible out of my options’
-> during your pregnancy he tried to get the boys to film away less, especially during the end of your pregnancy, just in case anything happened to you or the baby
-> he loved the name Colton and Rowdie, even though you thought it sounded like a cowboy name. for a girl it was always the name Briar that he liked for some reason
the only reason I feel even remotely bad for England losing is because I know Will and the others will be so upset but as a Scottish girlie I cannot find it in me to feel bad for them that much sorry it’s not in my blood x
godddd i’m at the point where i just want bambinobecky to rub cunts with me 😖😖 i want dirty, messy, sloppy humping as our clits rub together and our pussies slap against each other’s and we’re both moaning and panting as we grab for each other’s tits and it’s just so 😖😖😖😵💫
The day had started like any other day. Harry had left your shared flat early in the morning to head off to a Sidemen shoot, and you’d left not long after him to your own job. Knowing Harry was likely going to be at the studio filming all day, it was your turn to sort out dinner. You stopped by the local M&S on your way home to get a few things before you’d jump back on the tube home, and that’s when things went south.
You ducked into the shop bathroom with the goal of changing your tampon before you did your shopping and headed home. Unfortunately as you tried to pull it out, the string snapped, and the tampon was still firmly lodged up inside your vagina. Some quiet swearing, several squats and sweating in a public loo stall later, that sucker was still up there and not budging. You figured that was a later problem for when you got home.
Cut to when you got home later, and your earlier problem was most definitely still a problem.
“Fucking shit… stupid bloody thing” you grumbled “just fuckin come out!”
A trail of clothes led from the front door to where you were in the bathroom, with one foot up on the toilet and the other foot on the floor in an effort to reach inside yourself and pull the string-less tampon out. No success as of yet. You tried another position hoping to have some success.
“please come out…. Pleeeasssseee”
Nope.
Cue more swearing.
A quick Google later told you to try pushing it out using your pelvic floor muscles. Also no success on that front. One wikihow article suggested a hot bath and an orgasm - you were NOT in the mood for either right now. You were too over stimulated and heated to even think about getting into hot water and getting your rocks off, let alone whether it would help.
You were at your wits end, debating whether to scream or cry when Harry arrived home for day.
“Hey babe, I’m home!” He shouted from the living room, dropping his bag on the floor and noting the clothes trail to the bathroom.
“Can you come to the bathroom Harry I need your help” you replied, a slight touch of panic in your voice.
Harry came straight to the bathroom, and burst out laughing at the sight. You were stood naked in your shared bathroom, hair slightly frizzy from the frustration and a look of despair on your face. “What’s the matter love, you look fuckin ropable” he laughed
“My tampons stuck” you replied, a small wobble to your bottom lip “and I’ve tried everything but it won’t come out” a small wave to your voice showed you were nearly to tears but Harry clearly missed that.
Harry burst into laughter again before glancing around the bathroom quickly.
“This isn’t one of those TikTok prank videos is it” he asked, looking for your phone.
“Babe I’m naked, of course I’m not filming” you deadpanned “this isn’t a prank video, I really do need your help”
Harry stopped laughing when he noticed the stessed look on your face and smiled at you, stepping forward while grinning to plant a kiss on your hairline
“Aw baby, I’m sorry I laughed” he chuckled “but you gotta admit, you look a right mess”
A small smile graced your lips as you looked past Harry to the mirror and saw the state of you “yeah I guess I do look a bit insane” you allowed, reaching up to play with his hoodies drawstrings and pressing a small kiss to the underside of his jaw “it really is stuck in there though. The string broke off and my fingers aren’t long enough so I can’t get it out, can you help me”
Harry sighed dramatically “if I must”
Yes, finally some hope.
“Ok right well I need you to reach in and pull it out, can you do that?” You asked, looking up at him.
He grimaced slightly “ugh yeah if I have to”
He stepped back and pulled off his blue hoodie and shirt, leaving him in just his shorts.
You frowned “babe why do you look so uncomfortable about this, it’s not like you’ve never had your hand inside me before”
“I know but I’m not usually doing an excavation job for you” he whined “usually its more fun for us both and results in sex”
You laughed at his uncomfortable face as he knelt down on the floor between your knees before you placed the other foot gently up on his shoulder, holding your weight in the foot still flat on the bathroom floor. He got into position between your legs ready to help, grumbling all the while “….lucky I love you…. should’ve grabbed a bloody head torch or some tongs….. I better get a proper kiss after this….”
A few seconds later and Harry gave a triumphant yell “Aha!” as he stood up, string-less tampon in hand.
You sagged down to sit on the toilet lid in relief, a weight lifted off your shoulders (and a pressure out of your pelvis)
“Thank you so much Harry, you don’t understand how much I needed your help” you gushed as he chucked the old tampon away, washed his hands before turning back to you and leaning down for a kiss.
“I’m a hero, what can I say” he bragged “I’ll happily accept a massage as payment”
You rolled your eyes while he grinned at you and gently shoved him away before asking “join me in the shower? I’ll wash your hair with my nice shampoo and we can call it even”
He immediately perked up at that idea and scrambled to take his shorts and underwear off and you both jumped into the shower.
As promised, you washed and scrubbed his hair, even giving him a scalp massage which left him like putty in your hands. Cosy and feeling soft from his spa treatment, you ended up curled up on the sofa with each of you wearing one of Harry’s classic blue hoodies. You had Harry draped across you, his head on your chest and his arms wrapped round you keeping you firmly in place as his pillow under him, your chin gently resting on the top of his head with his fluffy still slightly damp hair occasionally tickling you. Sacking off the idea of cooking dinner after your stressful evening, you ordered a takeaway and cuddled into your man while watching TV and waiting on your food being delivered.
Midway through the latest episode of Doctor Who and 7/8ths of his pizza eaten, Harry snorted and said “babe you’re lucky I was here to help get that tamp-out, not keep the tamp-in”
content: 18+!! roommate!becky james (bambinobecky) x fem!reader. mentions of: pervert becky, humping, sharing sex toys, groping, intox (by alcohol), sharing showers, slight manipulation, etc.
a/n: i’m in a very bisexual time of my life. also tysm for @catlenneys, @f4iry-dvst & @gerardswhore for beta reading and having an input on this — love y’all so much!! <3
roommate!becky who tells you it’s okay to see each other naked because you’re both girls and there’s nothing wrong with it.
roommate!becky who tells you it’s okay for you two to kiss sometimes because you’re just really close friends and that’s what girl friends do with each other.
roommate!becky who likes to swap lingerie with you and tells you that it’s fine because good roommates share all their things.
roommate!becky who loves to touch your tits and ass sometimes but swears it’s okay because you’re just really close friends and she’s appreciating her beautiful roommate.
roommate!becky who likes to share showers with you and tells you it’s okay to because you’re both preserving water.
roommate!becky who takes opportunities in the shower to also touch you up, massaging your shower gel into your skin, making sure to take her sweet time around your breasts.
roommate!becky who likes to get drunk with you just so that she can have her way with you, watching how you shiver and succumb to her teasing touches.
roommate!becky who accidentally walks in on you touching yourself and stalks by the door for a while just because she can as it’s also her flat too.
roommate!becky who tells you it’s okay to share a bed with her because you’re just girls and girls do that sometimes, even if it means she touches you under the covers.
roommate!becky who has no shame if you hear her pleasuring herself, if anything, she wants you to hear it as it’s you that makes her that way.
roommate!becky who likes to watch porn with you, telling you that it’s okay to have a bit of fun with your girl friends sometimes.
roommate!becky who buys you sex toys that she wants to use on you in your favourite colour, only for her to taunt you with them when they come to the flat, accusing you of buying them.
roommate!becky who has you grinding on a pillow on her bed as she does the same in front of you, telling you that’s it’s okay because you’re not touching each other.
roommate!becky who makes you share a vibrator with her so that you preserve the battery on your own toy.
A/N: this is just a random idea that popped in my head after reading @flvvffy's soft sukuna post so i decided to write a jake version :)
w.c: 3.1k (not proofread)
♡—————♡—————♡—————♡—————♡—————♡
soft!jake who mumbles “morning..” against your hair before he’s even fully awake. doesn’t open his eyes, just pulls you in closer and buries his face into your shoulder like he can hide from the world there. if you try to get up too soon, he lets out a groan and quietly mutters, “five more minutes. you’re warm.”
soft!jake who doesn’t really think about it before reaching for your hand in public. it’s automatic at this point. busy street, slow walk in the park, grocery store line; doesn’t matter. it’s a comfort thing. he just feels better when you’re right there.
soft!jake who gets you things with him like it’s the most normal thing ever. if he’s going to get coffee he’ll get you your favorite order exactly how you like along with a little pastry he knows you like. when asked about it he just shrugs and says “why not?” and carries on with whatever he’s doing.
soft!jake who loves talking about you in the most casual of occasions. if captain holt mentions a documentary he’ll say “oh y/n’s into that too she was telling me about…” and he would ramble on his eyes lighting up with adoration because the memory is playing in his mind actively as he speaks.
soft!jake who randomly says ‘i love you’. You’re writing something on your laptop and you have that little furrow in your brows while focusing? ‘i love you’. you’re laughing at a silly joke he said? ‘i love you’. He just loves the shit out of you for simply existing.
soft!jake who loves holding you hand. if you’re next to each other your hand will be in his. lacing, unlacing, tapping, tracing shapes, feeling your nails under his fingertips (he likes the slick feeling of nail polish). it’s a comfort thing for him even if he doesn’t know it.
soft!jake who is more invested in your hobbies than you even though he doesn’t do them. if he find out you’re into painting he’ll spend nights researching it. his idea of researching painting by the way is watching bob ross videos. but still he’ll find you painting and ask if you’re gonna paint ‘a happy little tree’ there. Which is just sososo sweet ;(
soft!jake who reads books you’re reading so you guys can talk about it together. and when you figure that out you begin to read shorter length books knowing how short jake’s attention span can be. he also really gets into annotating because he saw you putting sticky tabs, highlighting, and writing down comments in your book. You’ll open up his book and just see random things like an arrow pointing to a certain paragraph and a bunch of ‘??????’ or ‘omg!!’
soft!jake who does the chores he knows you hate. he does the dishes/loads the dishwasher because he knows you think it’s icky touching all the dirty plates and getting prune-y hands from washing dishes. he takes out the trash because you don’t like the smell. he vacuums because he knows you hate the loud noise and he usually does it when you’re not home.
soft!jake who every once in a while, will pull you into a hug that’s tighter than usual. no jokes. no commentary. just silence and his arms around you like they were made to fit there. and when you ask what it’s for, he just says, “no reason. just… i needed to.”
♡—————♡—————♡—————♡—————♡—————♡
A/N: i really enjoyed writing this actually i might write more of it if i get more inspo soon :)
Summary: Detective Jake and Firefighter Y/n meet again, but not at the same football field where she kicked his ass and he proceeded to have a little crush on her. Jake would never admit that to anyone, not even to himself. But what's gonna happen when they are forced to work on a case together? Can he hold his feelings back any longer?
Please Read Three Tackles and a Kiss for context before you jump into this one!! 😘
----------------++++++++++++------------------
The morning briefing was never a normal one, it always had to have a twist or Peralta had to somehow make it about himself.
"I am being so deadass right now - if there is anyone in this precinct who can be a stunt double for Jackie Chan, it's so gonna be me."
"Peralta I'll save you from the obvious embarrassment, Jackie Chan did all his stunts by himself. And second of all, Rosa is way more experienced than you. I once saw her eating a sandwhich upside down like a bat in the evidence room."
Amy crossed her arms, and stared him down. This was a usual banter between both of them. Whenever Jake tried to make himself look good, Amy always had to water it down with her sarcasm and snarky comments. It honestly kept him humble.
"Detective Santiago, can you please shut the fuck up for one damn minute?"
"Detective Peralta, can you not have a ego which is the size of Terrance for one damn minute?"
"Detective Santiago-
"ENOUGH" Holt walked in just in time, and behind him was Chief Marshal Boom, looking stubby and short as always.
"There is something important I must say so please stop the squabling, Detective Santiago and Detective Per-."
"Why the hell is he here?"
Peralta's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and a little bit of disgust. The tension and hostility between detectives and firefighters was a constant, and there is nothing anyone can do or say to remove it.
"If you want me to continue, I need you to be quiet Jake." Now it was Holt's turn to stare him down, and Boom had a shameless smirk which Peralta wanted to punch off his face.
The precinct fell silent as Captain stood in front of the podim, and his hands were clasped neatly behind his back.
"At approximately 0430 hours yesterday, a five-alarm fire broke out in a warehouse located in Brooklyn's Red Hook district. Initial reports suggested an electrical malfunction."
Jake raised a hand.
"So... boring fire stuff."
"No, Detective Peralta. If it were boring, I would not be standing here."
Jake immediately lowered his hand.
Holt clicked a remote. A photograph of the warehouse appeared on the screen.
"FDNY investigators determined that the fire was intentionally set. Multiple ignition points were discovered throughout the building, ruling out accidental causes."
"However," Holt continued, "the arson itself is not the primary concern."
Another slide appeared, inside the warehouse were several shipping containers.
"Three of these containers were found empty. According to shipping manifests, they should have contained approximately four million dollars' worth of stolen electronics connected to an ongoing interstate theft operation."
Amy's eyes widened.
"So the fire was used to destroy evidence."
"Correct, Detective Santiago."
Terry leaned forward.
"And the stolen goods?"
"Missing. The perpetrators stole the merchandise, set the fire to eliminate evidence, and escaped before emergency services arrived."
Rosa crossed her arms."So why are we working with firefighters?"
Holt switched slides again. This time it showed several photographs taken by FDNY personnel.
"Because one firefighter noticed something unusual."
The room looked closer. A muddy boot print.
"While conducting a structural safety assessment, Firefighter Lieutenant Morales discovered this print in an area untouched by suppression crews. The tread pattern matches a boot commonly issued to employees at the shipping company that leased the warehouse."
Jake sat up."Oh. That's actually really good."
"It is," Holt agreed. "Which is why we will be treating our FDNY counterparts with professionalism and respect."
At that exact moment, the firefighters assigned to the case walked into the briefing room.
Peralta's happy mood vanished, and his cheeks flushed. His breathing got heavy, and he held his stomach because he genuinely felt butterflies flying around.
"No way." Boyle hunched forward, holding Peralta's shoulder. He was keenly observing what unfolded in front of him.
"Hey.. isn't that-" Rosa whispered in Santiago's ear.
"Yup." She replied in a whisper. "Y/n..."
The woman with tan skin, doe eyes and an impish smile looked into Peralta's eyes, aware about the effect she had on him.
She was back, the one who made his heart and head go crazy like sirens.
"Nice to see you again, Detective Peralta."
Jake froze and it wasn't because she was pretty or because Boyle was already making weird noises beside him.
It was because he suddenly felt himself being pulled back to a memory, where he was back on that football field. The day he met her, covered in mud and flat on his back.
Boom stepped forward with a folder tucked under his arm. "The warehouse covers nearly forty thousand square feet. FDNY has already completed the structural assessment, but there are still several areas that require joint investigation."
A blueprint of the warehouse appeared on the screen,r ed circles covered different sections of the building.
"Multiple teams will be assigned."
Amy immediately sat up straighter and opened a notebook. Holt pressed a button on the remote.
"Detective Santiago."
Amy practically levitated from her chair.
"Yes, Captain."
"You will work with Fire Marshal Davidson. I want a complete audit of shipping manifests, employee records, delivery schedules, and financial transactions connected to the warehouse."
Amy nodded enthusiastically.
"Already making a spreadsheet."
"You haven't received the files yet."
"I'll make a preliminary spreadsheet."
"Of course you will."
Next slide.
"Sergeant Jeffords."
Terry looked up.
"You and Captain Rivera from FDNY will coordinate and gather the CCTV footage around the area. Several firefighters were on scene before the building collapsed. We need the exact timelines."
"Got it." Terrance politely smiled at Rivera, already knowing they will make a great duo. They looked like twins from different mothers.
"Detective Diaz."
Rosa didn't even look up.
"Yeah."
"You will accompany Lieutenant Russo to investigate a potential black-market distribution network connected to the stolen electronics."
Rosa smirked.
"Cool."
Lieutenant Russo grinned, thinking it was going to be treat to work with a beautiful girl like her. She looked pretty gentle to him (if only he knew).
"Detective Boyle, you will assist in tracing the stolen merchandise through local distributors."
Boyle looked disappointed.
"No explosions?"
"No."
"No undercover operation?"
"No."
"No dangerous criminal conspiracy?"
"Charles."
"Right. Merchandise."
Then Holt's eyes moved toward Jake.
The entire bullpen somehow knew what was coming. Amy looked interested, and Rosa looked entertained. Whereas, Boyle looked like he was watching the season finale of his favorite show.
"And last but not the least - Peralta," Holt took a pause before continuing his sentence, "you shall be working the case with Y/n L/n. Both of you are responsible to gather witness statements, and gather any forensic evidence which was left behind the scene or anywhere near the zone. Have I made myself clear?"
Jake plunged himself out of dreamland. Partnering with her would be a nightmare, obviously in a pleasant way. He knows he won't be able to focus on a case as badass as this, this is not what he signed up for. Jake Peralta doesn't do distractions.
"WAIT-"
"Yes, Jake?" Holt was expecting his reply. He has known him long enough to realise that he will never let his superior officer have the last word, especially during a morning briefing. That way, Jake is yet to grow up. He is still a 33 year old child.
"I can do the witness statements and gather the forensic evidence by myself. I don't need another person," Jake's eyes met Y/n for a brief second before he continued. "It won't be hard, I do this all the time when I solve cases with Boyle."
"Yeah because you always think you are in charge." Amy interjected. Jake turned back and signalled her to shut her mouth. This was not really a good time to humble him.
"But it's true! We can ask Boyle right now."
Everyone turned towards Boyle, waiting for his comments. Jake was practically pleading him with his eyes to take his side, while Amy's bore into his soul.
"I-I really don't wanna say anything." Boyle nervously spoke as he fiddled with his polka dotted tie.
"Everyone remain silent." Holt's voice reverberated in the room. "All of you except Y/n and Jake, please leave the room and execute the tasks which have been assigned to you."
Everyone immediately got up. Boyle looked like he wanted to stay more, as if he was going to miss a plot twist of a true crime documentry. Jake noticed.
"Charles."
"I'm leaving."
"You haven't moved."
"I said I'm leaving."
"WELL LEAVE FASTER, CHARLES"
Boyle sighed dramatically and shuffled toward the exit.
Amy patted Jake's shoulder on the way out.
"Good luck." She had that classic smug face, enjoying every second of this.
"I don't need luck."
"You absolutely do."
Rosa walked past next, glancing at Jake. Then at Y/n. Then back at Jake. Then, a slow grin spread across her face.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."
The door closed before Jake could tell her to shut up. Within seconds, the bullpen noise faded away.
Just Holt.
Boom.
Jake.
And Y/n
Jake suddenly became very interested in a random stain on the conference table.
Holt folded his hands behind his back.
"Detective Peralta, would you care to explain why you believe you are incapable of working alongside Firefighter L/n?"
"I never said incapable."
"You implied it."
"I implied that I am extremely capable by myself."
Boom snorted.
Jake immediately pointed at him.
"See? That's exactly the kind of firefighter attitude I'm talking about."
"You mean competence?"
"I mean smugness."
"Same thing."
"Not even close."
"Close enough."
"Captain, permission to arrest him?"
"Denied."
Jake sighed. Why is literally nothing going his way? His mind started drifting to how Y/n would be feeling right now. Is she feeling bad? Hurt? He bets she has not come across someone who didn't want to work with her. He had his reasons, reasons which he can't quite divulge in until he figures them out by himself.
He turned his head to see her expression. She looked different in what she was wearing now, nothing like the oversized jersey she wore last time at the match.
A grey tshirt was hugging her body, enhancing the curve of her waist. It was a round neck, which was pretty deep because Peralta could make out of the highlight of her collar bones which shone in the white light. And her face looked gorgeous as ever, definitely a face which he spent nights thinking about.
Y/n cleared her throat, and Peralta's trance broke. Their eyes met again, and she gave him a smile. Not a cute one, but a 'I know you are checking me out' smile.
Fuck.
"The reason Detective Peralta is being assigned a partner is because the warehouse investigation requires expertise from both departments."
"I would say I have enough expertise."
"So does Firefighter L/n."
"I know crime things."
"And she knows fire things."
Jake opened his mouth. Then closed it. Because, whether he liked it out not, Holt was making sense. A fact he deeply resented.
Boom crossed his arms."Besides, she was the one who requested Peralta."
Jake blinked, tilting his head in confusion. His hands held his waist. "What?"
The room went quiet and Y/n looked completely unbothered.
Boom nodded.
"Specifically requested him."
Jake's brain immediately stopped functioning.
"What."
"Those were my exact thoughts too," Holt added. Jake stared at Y/n, definitely not checking her out this time. Now the three men were looking at her, curious about the answer.
"You have a good reputation, Detective Peralta. I have seen you on the news, and the papers. I specifically requested you because I don't think I know anyone else in this precinct who can think the way you do."
That actually made the room go quiet. The kind where nobody expected that answer. Even Boom looked surprised. Y/n wasn't smiling anymore. There was no teasing hidden in her voice, no clever jab waiting at the end of the sentence. She was completely sincere.
Jake blinked.
Once. Twice. God knows how many times. His brain was still trying to process the fact that she had apparently been paying attention to his career.
"What I'm trying to say is..." she continued, folding her arms casually, "you're good at what you do. And it would be fruitful if we worked this case together. It guarantees the highest chance of success."
For the first time in his life, Jake Peralta had absolutely no comeback. No joke. No sarcastic remark. Nothing.
Because compliments from Amy were normal. Compliments from Holt happened once every leap year. But hearing that from her? His brain had completely blue-screened.
"You... read about my cases?"
Y/n nodded.
"Some of them."
"Like... voluntarily?"
Another nod.
Jake looked genuinely confused.
"Why would you do that?"
That earned the smallest smile from her.
"Because I was curious."
Now Jake's heart was doing gymnastics.
Boyle would have exploded if he were still in the room. Probably into confetti. Holt pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Detective Peralta."
"Yes, Captain?" His face was flushed.
"Are you capable of participating in this investigation now?"
Jake straightened immediately.
"Absolutely."
"Good."
"Wait, hold on. Which cases did you read about?" Holt closed his eyes. Boom wanted this to end, it's like two teenage trying to kiss but failing every goddamn time.
Y/n looked amused.
"The Pontiac Bandit case."
Jake's face lit up.
"Oh, that's a good one."
"The diamond robbery."
"Also a good one."
"The mafia counterfeit ring."
Jake pointed at her.
"That's a great one."
"You got trapped inside a freezer for six hours."
His smile disappeared.
"...that's not the point."
"It was a significant part of the article."
"The article was biased."
"It included photographs."
"It was extremely biased."
For a moment Y/n laughed again.
And Jake couldn't help smiling back. Not because she'd complimented him. Okay, maybe a little because she'd complimented him. But mostly because she was looking at him like she genuinely respected him. Not as the idiot from the football field. Not as the detective who made too many jokes.
But as a detective. Someone worth choosing. And somehow that realization made him even more nervous than before.
"Excellent," Holt said flatly. "Now that Detective Peralta has received the validation he desperately craves, both of you may leave and begin your investigation."
Jake pointed at him.
"I don't desperately crave validation."
"Leave."
"Okay."
"Now."
"Leaving."
Jake walked towards the door.
Then stopped.
Then looked back at Y/n.
"Just for the record..."
"Yes?" She smiled again, it was a adorable one this time and Peralta's heart was beating at an abnormal rate.
"I would request me too. There is nothing I can't do. Smart choice, honestly."
Y/n rolled her eyes. "I don't think it would be a smart choice if someone picked you for football."
"Yeah?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Good thing you weren't looking for a football player then."
His eyes met hers.
"You were looking for me."
Before Y/n could answer, he was already halfway out the door. He looked at her a final time before leaving.
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