vaanillastar

[vaanillastar]

[vaanillastar]

Jake with a reader who struggles with eating? If it’s out of ur comfort zone disregard this but I’ve been struggling with Ana and Jake is my pookie bookie boo pear ❤️

hey anon!! thanks for requesting. i hope this is okay :)

remember, you are so loved ♡

♡ jake peralta — ‘worried about you’

in which jake starts to notice signs of y/n’s eating disorder and tries to help.

warnings: major topic of eating disorders (⚠️), use of y/n (with gender neutral pronouns)

word count: 1k

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆─────── ʚ˚ɞ ───────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

there were a lot of things jake peralta could ignore.

paperwork. his overdue laundry. the slight furrow of the captain’s brows when jake makes fun of him.

but he couldn’t ignore the way you sat in the break room, staring at your food. you were deep in thought but also looked sick to your stomach. it was a relatively new look for you—you rarely ever acted this way. jake didn’t understand why.

he’d seen you skip lunch pretty much every day this week. seen you play it off as not being hungry, or make the excuse that you’re too busy for a break. and sure, it might just be stress from work. hell, even he does that sometimes. but jake knows you better than that—you’re his best friend, after all. something’s up and he wants needs to help.

“hey, have you noticed y/n acting weird lately?” jake said to rosa. probably not the best choice to ask about this, but she was there and he needed someone to talk to about this. he leaned against the side of the vending machine as she slid in a coin.

“i guess,” rosa replied, her voice tough and monotone as usual. “why?”

jake shook his head, sighing. “no, nothing. they’re just… i don’t know. they’re not really eating much and it’s worrying me.”

rosa looked like she was contemplating something—possibly her response and how you might’ve been feeling, or the snack that she was going to choose. jake hoped it was the latter.

“maybe they’re just stressed about a case.”

“yeah, that’s what they told me,” he replied. “i don’t think it’s true, though.”

rosa shrugged. “i say just let them figure it out on their own. i’m sure it’s nothing.”

jake knew it was getting bad when he strolled over to your desk and saw you staring blankly at the wall opposite. you looked lightheaded and paler than usual. this isn’t just a bad day. something’s wrong.

“hey, you good?” jake asked, sitting on the edge of your desk. you looked up at him, startled by his sudden presence. your mesmerising y/e/c eyes looked distant and look devoid of that liveliness they used to have. it made jake’s heart ache.

“what?” you replied. “oh. yeah, i’m fine. why?”

he furrowed his brows, observing your features. your cheeks looked hollow and your lips were cracked.

“no reason,” jake lied. “so, uh, we still on for lunch? that new burrito place you wanted to try is opening tomorrow. remember how we said we’d go?”

you hesitated. your eyes looked panicked for a split second before they faded back into that newfound emptiness. he had to resist begging you to tell him what was wrong.

finally, you replied with, “i have something on. maybe another time.”

jake nodded slowly, exhaling with a tinge of disappointment. maybe it was him who was the problem. what if he was annoying you, or you weren’t comfortable around him anymore? but that wasn’t possible—he and you were best friends. maybe even more than that.

it’s why he finally decided to speak up.

jake slid himself off the table. “come with me,” he said, not giving you a choice in the matter. you frowned and complied.

once he had you alone with him in the copy room, jake spoke. “hey, no judgement here, but… you’re acting weird. i know something’s up. please, just let me help.”

you scoffed and started to leave but jake grabbed your arm. “y/n, don’t go. i’m begging you—just tell me what’s up. you haven’t really been eating much lately. i notice stuff, y’know? i’m, like, a detective or whatever.”

you yanked your arm away. “it’s nothing. i told you nothing’s wrong.”

he raised an eyebrow at you. you sighed.

“okay, fine. i’m not okay. i’m struggling with anorexia and i don’t know what to do about it. i’m absolutely terrified of gaining weight and it’s embarrassing. are you happy, now?” you said, your voice practically pleading for him to leave you alone.

jake’s heart absolutely shattered, the pieces flying away into a void of horror and guilt. “what?” he breathed.

no. this couldn’t be happening. how could someone as gorgeous as you be allowed to suffer like that? when jake would look at you, all he’d see was a completely perfect individual. you didn’t deserve this.

plus, how did he not figure it out sooner?

you left the copy room and jake ran a stressed hand through his hair.

that night, jake drove to your house with a blanket, one of his hoodies that he knows you always try to steal, and a heavy heart. once he arrived, he knocked on the door. you answered and you looked so mentally drained, it nearly broke him all over again.

“can we talk?” jake said quietly.

you swallowed hard, nodding and letting him in. he walked inside, sat down on the sofa. jake waited for you to sit as well before he spoke.

“i’m not going to pretend to know how you feel, because i don’t. but i want you to know that i’m here for you, no matter what. you’re not a burden and what you’re going through isn’t embarrassing. it’s real and— do i sound like i practiced saying this in the mirror?”

“yes,” you said.

“yeah, thought so,” jake mumbled, then held out the hoodie he brought for you. you took it skeptically. “but, anyway, you’re the coolest person i know. i thought i could come over and we could watch a movie. or i’ll just listen to whatever you wanna say, if you even wanna say anything.”

he watched a smile slowly creep up onto your face. “a movie would be nice,” you said.

god, jake loved your voice.

later, when the movie had ended and you and jake were laying in your bed together, you spoke up. “sometimes i feel like i’m annoying,” you said softly.

jake frowned. you could never be annoying to him.

“you’re not annoying,” he replied, almost immediately. “i love your company.”

“you do?”

“yeah, of course.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know.”

jake had never felt so lucky in his life.

a/n — AHH the ending is so bad i’m sorry 😔

[vaanillastar]

Y'all are gonna have to pry Brooklyn 99 from my cold dead hands

[vaanillastar]

♡ jake peralta — broken ankle

in which y/n is injured during a drug bust and her partner, jake (who she has a love/hate relationship with) freaks out.

warnings: graphic description of injury, swearing, use of y/n, slight body/weight shaming (not in a serious manner), sexual implications/mentions of sex, female pronouns used for y/n

word count: 634

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆──────── ʚ˚ɞ ────────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

as soon as jake sees one of the dealers purposely ram into you during the midst of the chaos, he sees red.

it’s like it all’s happening in slow motion. you, his partner, falling to the concrete with a blood-curling scream of pain. the man who hurt you laughing and stomping your injury. jake had never been so angry. he’s there in a split second, his heart pounding. he punches the man in the face with all his strength. the dealer’s jaw lets out a sickening crack and he falls to the floor.

endorphins erupted in jake’s brain and he couldn’t help but smile—that punch felt better than a piña colada on a hot day in hawaii. not like he’d ever been to hawaii, but still. to his even further delight, jake grabbed the handcuffs off his belt and locked them around the dealer’s wrists as he recited the miranda rights.

the crime scene has calmed down, now. jake hurries over to you. you’re sitting up, inspecting your obviously broken ankle. you’re heaving in pain and tears are streaming down your soft skin. the sight of the injury isn’t pretty—your foot’s horrifically bent out of alignment and your ankle’s already a swollen, bruised mess.

why does he even care? jake hates you, doesn’t he?

but he knows what he has to do. “hey. y/n. look at me,” jake says, crouching down next to you.

you look up, tears in your eyes. the sight makes his heart ache and he doesn’t even know why.

“it’s okay. it’s going to be okay.” he assures. “we’ll get you to a hospital, and they’ll help you.”

twenty minutes later, there’s no sign of help. 911 has him on hold and jake’s panicking. he eventually decides to just pick you up bridal style and haul you to the car.

so, he does just that. jake groans, cursing. “why on earth are you so heavy?”

you roll your beautiful y/e/c eyes. of course, he doesn’t really think you’re heavy. he just needs to fill in the awkwardness with complaints. plus, he needs to distract himself from the inappropriate visions flashing through his mind at the sight of you rolling your eyes back.

the thoughts in his head aren’t completely sexual, though. even though you’re an annoying, lame perfectionist, jake can’t help but admire you. you, the woman he gets to buy coffee for every morning. you, the woman with those captivating eyes he could stare into forever. you, the woman jake’s only now realising he’s hopelessly in love with.

shit.

jake exits the building with you in his arms and panic in his head—and not just because you’re hurt. how on earth did it end up like this? it feels like just yesterday you were a new detective at the precinct, and now he’s got these stupid feelings for you and he’s carrying your injured ass through the streets of new york. ‘i guess working with her for so many years made it inevitable,’ jake thinks to himself.

“NYPD, out of my way!” he shouts, stumbling through a particularly compact crowd who does in fact not move out of his way. jake glances down at you and his heart drops when he sees how you’re barely staying conscious.

“it’s okay, we’re nearly at the car,” jake says, pretending not to be heaving for air. he’s not as strong as he thought he was. this is ridiculous—he’s a cop. he should be able to carry a woman for a relatively long distance in an emergency. “we’re gonna take you to the hospital.”

after a little while longer of carrying you, jake reaches the car and sets you down gently in the passenger seat. he does up your seatbelt, slides into the driver’s side, puts on the sirens and steps on the gas.

[vaanillastar]

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ welcome! ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

helloooo! welcome to my first blog.

here, i’ll post oneshots of brooklyn 99 characters. so far, i’m only gonna be doing jake peralta but i’ll definitely expand on it later on down the track!

like you might’ve seen in the description, i’ll write about pretty much any topic. however, i won’t write:

- major age gap (10+ years)

- non-consensual sex

- controversial topics

there’s more to the list but those are the main ones.

i’ll gladly accept requests. just message me about it and i’ll be happy to write for you :)

thanks for reading!