#judyhopps

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How about a Nick Wilde crushing on Detective! (Small Wild Cat) Reader and working up the guts to ask her out? How would he go about things? Would Judy try to wingman or let him be?

I keep going back and forth on if I should just make a fic for him, but im not sure. It's always nice seeing other writers' interpretations <3

❝ NICK WILDE × DETECTIVE! READER — WORKING UP THE NERVE ❞

Nick Wilde does not get nervous.

That is a fact he has built his entire life around. Smooth words, easy smiles, quick thinking. It is what keeps him in control, what keeps him one step ahead, what keeps things simple.

So the fact that he is currently leaning against his desk, staring at absolutely nothing while completely losing his train of thought is… a problem.

“You’re doing it again.”

Nick doesn’t even look over as Judy Hopps walks up beside him, already fully aware of what she is about to witness.

“Doing what?” he asks, tone casual, like he hasn’t been zoning out for the past three minutes.

“That thing where you pretend you’re not staring at her,” Judy says.

Nick’s ear flicks.

“I am not staring,” he replies smoothly.

Judy raises a brow. “Nick.”

He sighs, finally glancing over at her. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Judy follows his line of sight across the bullpen, where you stand near one of the desks, flipping through a file with focused precision. Smaller than most of the other officers, quick on your feet, sharp-eyed in a way that makes it clear you miss very little. A wild cat, built for speed and instinct, with a reputation that had spread through the precinct faster than anyone expected.

And Nick had noticed.

Immediately.

“She’s good,” Judy says quietly, watching you for a moment before glancing back at him. “Like, really good.”

“Yeah,” Nick mutters, before he can stop himself.

Judy’s ears perk slightly.

Nick straightens a bit, like he just realized he said that out loud. “I mean, yeah, obviously. She’s a detective.”

Judy smiles slowly.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.”

“I do not,” Nick says instantly.

“You forgot what you were saying mid-sentence earlier.”

“That happens.”

“You called Bogo ‘Carrots.’”

Nick pauses.

“…that was one time.”

Judy just looks at him.

Nick exhales, dragging a paw down his face. “…okay, maybe I’ve been a little distracted.”

“A little?” Judy echoes, amused.

Nick leans back against the desk, crossing his arms as he watches you again, this time less defensively. “…I don’t know what the move is,” he admits after a moment, quieter now.

That catches Judy off guard.

“You don’t know?” she asks. “Since when do you not know how to talk to someone?”

Nick huffs softly. “Talking’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He hesitates.

That alone says enough.

Judy’s expression softens slightly. “You actually like her,” she says.

Nick doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you, the way you move, the way you focus, the way you interact with the other officers like you’ve always been part of this place.

“…yeah,” he says finally.

Judy smiles, a little gentler now. “Okay. So go talk to her.”

Nick snorts. “Wow. Incredible advice. Really groundbreaking stuff, Hopps.”

“I’m serious,” she insists. “Just… be normal.”

Nick gives her a look. “You’re asking a lot of me here.”

Judy laughs, nudging him lightly. “Do you want me to help or not?”

Nick considers that for a second.

“…define help.”

Judy’s grin turns just a little mischievous.

—

You notice Judy first.

She approaches like she always does, friendly, energetic, just slightly too intentional to be casual. You look up from your file, offering a small smile.

“Hey, Hopps.”

“Hey!” she says brightly, leaning against the desk beside you. “Quick question.”

You raise a brow. “That sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not, I promise,” she says, though the look on her face suggests otherwise. “What are you doing after work?”

You blink.

“That is a loaded question.”

“Not really,” she says quickly. “Just… curious.”

You hesitate for a moment, then shrug. “Nothing planned. Why?”

Judy’s ears perk slightly, like she just confirmed something important.

“Great,” she says. “Perfect, actually.”

Now you’re suspicious.

“Hopps…”

Before she can answer, there’s a voice behind her.

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.”

You glance up as Nick steps in, one paw gently but firmly catching Judy by the shoulder and pulling her back a step.

“Interrogation tactics are my thing, remember?” he says, shooting her a look.

Judy holds up her paws innocently. “I was just asking a question.”

“You were about to ask twelve more,” Nick replies.

She grins. “You’re welcome.”

Then, before either of you can stop her, she slips away.

Just like that.

You look back at Nick.

Nick looks back at you.

There’s a brief pause where neither of you say anything.

“…so,” you start, crossing your arms slightly. “Was that planned, or…?”

Nick huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “She means well.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

That earns a real smile out of him, something a little less practiced than usual.

“Yeah,” he says. “Fair.”

Another pause settles in, but this one is easier. Less awkward. More… open.

Nick glances at you, then away, then back again like he’s trying to find the right angle.

“…so you don’t have plans tonight,” he says.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “That sounds suspiciously like a follow-up question.”

“Maybe it is,” he replies.

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something different in the way he’s standing, the way he’s speaking. Less polished. Less controlled.

More real.

“…go on,” you say.

Nick exhales slowly, like he’s committing to something.

“I was thinking,” he starts, then pauses, shaking his head slightly. “No, that sounds too rehearsed.”

You blink.

Nick laughs quietly, a little self-aware now. “Okay, let me try that again.”

He meets your gaze properly this time.

“I’d like to take you out,” he says, more simply. “If you’re interested.”

There’s no smooth lead-in. No clever line. Just that.

Honest.

You study him for a moment, taking in the shift, the effort, the fact that Nick Wilde is very clearly not running on his usual script right now.

“…you’re nervous,” you say.

Nick immediately shakes his head. “I am not—”

Then he pauses.

“…okay, maybe a little.”

You smile, just slightly.

“That’s new.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

That softens the moment, just enough.

You consider him for another second, then shrug lightly. “Alright.”

Nick blinks. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m interested.”

There’s a brief moment where he just processes that.

Then his grin comes back, slower this time, a little more genuine.

“Good,” he says. “That’s… good.”

From across the room, Judy is very obviously pretending not to watch.

You glance over at her, then back at him.

“…she’s going to ask for details later, isn’t she?”

Nick groans quietly. “Oh, absolutely.”

You laugh.

And just like that, the tension breaks.

Nick relaxes slightly, falling into step beside you as the conversation shifts into something easier, something natural.

Not perfect.

Not polished.

But real.

And honestly?

❝ APRIL FOOLS — PRANK WAR ❞

The first prank is subtle, which is exactly how Nick Wilde knows it’s Judy.

He steps into the precinct with his usual slow stride, coffee in paw, tie slightly crooked, already half-awake and fully expecting a normal day. Everything looks fine at first glance. Officers move through the bullpen, phones ring, papers shuffle. Nothing seems out of place.

That’s the problem.

Nick narrows his eyes slightly as he approaches his desk, gaze flicking over every detail. Too normal always means something is wrong when Judy is involved. He sets his coffee down carefully, testing the air like he expects it to betray him, then reaches for his chair.

The second he sits, the seat drops an extra inch with a quiet thunk.

Nick freezes.

“…Carrots.”

Across the room, Judy Hopps is very obviously not looking at him. She is focused on her paperwork with exaggerated intensity.

“Something wrong?” she calls sweetly.

Nick leans back again, testing the chair. It wobbles just slightly more than it should.

“You adjusted my chair,” he says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Nick huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as a grin pulls at his expression. “Oh, it’s on.”

Judy’s ears perk as she smiles to herself.

—

By nine in the morning, the precinct is unofficially divided.

There is no announcement, no agreement spoken out loud, but everyone can feel it. Lines are drawn, alliances formed without a word.

On one side, Judy and Nick, already moving in sync, their energy sharp and playful. On the other, Chief Bogo and Gary De’Snake, a pairing that feels less chaotic and far more dangerous.

It is not balanced.

It is not fair.

It is absolutely going to get worse.

—

The second prank is anything but subtle.

Bogo steps into his office, shuts the door behind him, and stops dead in his tracks. His desk is covered in carrots. Not scattered randomly, not tossed carelessly, but arranged with unnerving precision. They are stacked, lined up, and organized into neat rows across every inch of space. There is even one placed directly in the center of his chair.

Bogo stares at it for a long, silent moment.

Then, without raising his voice, “Hopps.”

The door opens almost immediately. Judy stands there, hands behind her back, trying very hard to look innocent. Nick leans casually against the wall behind her, very clearly not even attempting to hide his amusement.

“Yes, Chief?” Judy asks.

Bogo gestures to the room. “Explain.”

Judy glances inside and gasps dramatically. “Oh no. That’s terrible.”

Nick snorts.

Bogo’s gaze shifts to him. “And you.”

“Hey,” Nick says, raising his paws. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“You are both on very thin ice.”

Nick grins. “Good thing we’re not aquatic mammals.”

Judy elbows him lightly, but she is barely holding back her laughter. Bogo does not look amused, but there is the faintest shift in his expression that suggests this is far from over.

—

Gary’s retaliation is quieter, more deliberate.

He does not announce his pranks. He lets them happen.

Judy is the first to fall for it. She returns to her desk after a short break and reaches for her pen without thinking. The moment she presses it to paper, it lets out a soft, unmistakable squeak.

She freezes.

Nick looks up immediately. “…was that your pen?”

Judy presses it again.

Squeak.

Nick bursts out laughing, doubling over slightly as Judy stares down at the pen like it personally betrayed her.

Slowly, she turns her head.

Across the room, Gary is watching, completely still, completely composed.

“Did you—”

“Ssssurprise,” he says smoothly.

Judy narrows her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

“Oh, it’s on.”

—

By midday, the entire precinct has been dragged into it.

Evidence box labels have been switched. Bogo’s stapler refuses to close. Someone replaces Nick’s files with blank pages. At one point, Nick opens his drawer to find a rubber snake inside. He stares at it for exactly one second before picking it up and handing it to Gary across the room.

“Please,” Nick says. “I know a professional when I see one.”

Gary looks almost offended. “That was not mine.”

Nick pauses.

“…okay, that’s worse.”

—

The escalation is inevitable.

It happens sometime in the afternoon when Nick and Judy move together, quiet and coordinated in a way that makes them far more dangerous than either of them alone.

“You’re sure about this?” Judy whispers as they slip into Bogo’s office.

“Carrots,” Nick murmurs back, already working, “this is art.”

They move quickly, efficiently, leaving everything looking exactly as it was when they entered.

That is the point.

—

Bogo returns ten minutes later.

He sits.

Reaches for a file.

And the entire desk collapses inward with a loud, dramatic crash.

The bullpen goes silent.

Then Nick chokes on laughter.

Judy covers her mouth, eyes wide as she tries not to laugh just as hard.

Gary blinks, clearly impressed.

Bogo stands slowly from the wreckage, adjusting his uniform with terrifying calm.

“…Hopps. Wilde.”

Nick wipes at his eyes. “Worth it.”

Judy nods immediately. “Absolutely.”

Bogo exhales, long and controlled, then turns his head toward Gary.

“We are ending this.”

Gary tilts his head slightly. “Are we?”

Bogo pauses.

“…no,” he admits.

Something shifts between them. A silent agreement. A decision made without needing to be spoken.

Gary’s expression sharpens, something pleased flickering through it.

“Then we escalate.”

—

The final prank is precise.

Coordinated.

Unavoidable.

Nick walks into the bullpen at 4:59, stretching lazily, completely unaware. Judy follows just behind him, still mid-conversation.

The second they step forward—

CLICK.

Water crashes down on them from above, cold and immediate, drenching both of them completely as hidden buckets tip all at once.

The entire precinct erupts into laughter.

Nick stands there, soaked, fur flattened, blinking slowly.

Judy sputters, shaking out her ears as water drips everywhere.

Across the room, Bogo stands with his arms crossed, perfectly composed. Gary rests nearby, clearly satisfied.

“…you rigged the doorway,” Nick says flatly.

“Correct,” Bogo replies.

Judy wipes water from her face, then starts laughing.

Nick looks at her. “You’re laughing?”

“We deserved that!”

Nick pauses, then exhales a laugh of his own. “…we absolutely did.”

The tension breaks just like that, the energy shifting from competition to something lighter, something shared.

Bogo exhales, the edge leaving his posture. Gary hums softly, relaxed now.

“…same time next year?” Judy asks.

Nick grins immediately. “Oh, definitely.”

Bogo shakes his head.

But he doesn’t say no.

It takes place after Zootopia 2, and all three are dealing with the guilt and trauma since the Zootenial Gala and the Lynxley Case.

Now, the three finally talk about their unresolved feelings due to the pressure becoming too much.

After all is said, the three suddenly get into a hug, much to the surprise of them.

❝ JUDY HOPPS, NICK WILDE & CHIEF BOGO — AFTERMATH ❞

The precinct is quieter than it used to be. Not empty, never empty, but different. Phones still ring somewhere down the hall, paperwork still shuffles, the city still hums beyond the walls. And yet something sits heavy in the air, something unspoken that lingers longer than it should.

Judy Hopps notices it first. Or maybe she is just the first to admit it.

She stands at her desk longer than necessary, staring at a report she has already finished. Her ears twitch at every sound, her focus slipping, her thoughts dragging her back to places she does not want to revisit. The Zootenial Gala. The Lynxley case. Every moment that went wrong, every decision that could have been different.

“Carrots.”

Nick Wilde’s voice cuts through her thoughts, low and familiar. He leans against the edge of her desk, watching her carefully. There is no smirk this time, no easy humor to soften things.

“You’ve been staring at that paper for five minutes,” he says.

Judy exhales slowly and looks up. “I know.”

“You gonna read it, or are we just hoping it fixes itself?”

Normally, she would laugh. She doesn’t. Nick’s ears flick slightly, and he looks away for a second, like he already regrets trying.

“…right,” he mutters.

The silence that follows stretches too long.

Then, from across the room, a voice cuts cleanly through it.

“My office.”

Chief Bogo does not raise his voice. He does not need to.

Judy straightens immediately. Nick pushes off the desk without a word. Neither of them argue.

Bogo’s office feels smaller than usual, or maybe it is just the way the air presses in. He stands behind his desk, arms crossed, watching them as they step inside. The door closes, and the quiet settles heavily around them.

“Sit,” he says.

They do. Judy perches on the edge of her chair, back straight. Nick leans back slightly, but not by much.

Bogo studies them for a long moment before speaking.

“You’re both off your game.”

It is blunt. Direct.

Judy’s ears dip. Nick exhales through his nose.

“We’re fine,” Judy says automatically.

“No,” Bogo replies. “You’re not.”

The room stills. Nick glances at Judy, then back at Bogo.

“With all due respect, Chief—”

“I didn’t ask for your assessment,” Bogo cuts in. “I gave you mine.”

Nick’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t push it. Bogo’s gaze shifts between them.

“You think I don’t see it?” he continues. “The hesitation. The second-guessing. You’re slower. Distracted.”

Judy swallows. “We’re handling it.”

“You’re avoiding it.”

That lands harder than anything else.

Judy looks down at her hands, gripping them tighter than she realizes. Nick’s tail flicks once behind him.

Bogo exhales, slower this time.

“The Gala wasn’t your fault,” he says.

Judy’s head snaps up. “Yes it was. We should’ve seen it coming. We missed signs, we—”

“We followed procedure,” Nick cuts in, sharper than expected. “We did what we were supposed to do.”

“And it still wasn’t enough,” Judy shoots back.

Silence crashes down again.

Bogo’s voice is quieter when he speaks next.

“No,” he says. “It wasn’t.”

That stops both of them.

Because Bogo does not say things like that.

“The Lynxley case,” he continues, his tone measured now, “I made the call to pull back.”

Judy frowns. “Chief, that wasn’t—”

“It was my decision,” he says firmly. “And it cost us time. It cost us leverage.”

They all know it cost more than that.

Judy’s voice softens. “We could’ve pushed harder.”

Nick shakes his head. “And gotten shut down. Or worse.”

“At least we would’ve tried.”

“We did try.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

The words settle heavily between them.

Nick runs a paw over his face. “You think I don’t know that?” he says. “You think I haven’t been replaying that entire night over and over?”

Judy flinches. Bogo watches them both, something shifting beneath his usual stern expression.

“You’re both carrying this like it’s yours alone,” he says.

Judy looks up. “Isn’t it?”

“No.”

The answer is immediate.

“This is on all of us.”

Another pause follows, quieter but no less heavy.

“That’s how this works,” Bogo adds.

Something in Judy’s chest cracks at that. She has been holding it like a weight she has to carry alone, like letting go would mean she is not taking responsibility.

Nick leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “Doesn’t make it easier,” he mutters.

“No,” Bogo agrees. “It doesn’t.”

For a moment, none of them speak.

Then Judy’s voice comes out softer than either of them has ever heard it.

“I keep thinking… if I had just done one thing differently…”

Nick shakes his head immediately. “Carrots—”

“I know,” she says quickly. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I can’t stop.”

Nick’s ears lower. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me neither.”

That hangs there, shared and understood in a way neither of them has allowed before.

Bogo exhales slowly. “You don’t get into this line of work without carrying things,” he says. “The mistake is thinking you have to carry them alone.”

Judy looks at him. Then at Nick.

Something shifts.

Small, but enough.

She stands.

It is not planned. She just moves.

Nick looks up, confused. “Uh, Carrots—?”

She doesn’t answer. She steps forward and wraps her arms around him.

Nick freezes completely.

“…okay,” he says after a second. “This is new.”

Judy lets out a shaky breath. “Just… give me a second.”

Nick hesitates, then slowly relaxes, one arm coming up to return it.

“…yeah,” he mutters. “Alright.”

After a moment, Judy glances up at Bogo.

He stares back at her.

Then at them.

“…no,” he says.

Judy doesn’t move. “Please?”

Bogo exhales sharply, like this is the most unreasonable request he has ever been given. He hesitates, then steps forward.

“This does not leave this room,” he says.

“Of course not,” Nick replies.

Bogo leans down slightly, joining the hug with clear reluctance.

It is awkward. Uneven. Unexpected.

But it is real.

For a moment, none of them speak. They just stand there, three officers carrying the same weight, sharing it for the first time instead of holding it alone.

And for the first time since the Gala, it feels lighter.

Not gone. Not fixed.

But shared.

❝ NICK WILDE × JUDY HOPPS — MEETING THE FAMILY ❞

Nick Wilde knew this was a bad idea the second Judy Hopps said the word “family.”

Not because he didn’t like the idea, and not because he didn’t want to meet them. It was the way she said it. Bright, excited, completely confident, like she had already decided how this was going to go. Nick had learned very quickly that when Judy sounded like that, it usually meant she was underestimating something.

In this case, she was underestimating a lot.

“They’re going to love you,” Judy insisted for what had to be the fourth time, practically bouncing in her seat as the train rattled toward Bunnyburrow.

Nick flicked an ear, glancing at her from where he lounged back, arms crossed. “You have, what, a few siblings?”

Judy beamed like that was the easiest question in the world. “Two hundred and seventy-five.”

Nick stared at her.

“…you’re kidding.”

“Nope!”

He blinked once, then leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling like he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this exact moment.

“Carrots,” he said slowly, “I need you to be honest with me. Is this a meeting, or am I being… processed?”

Judy laughed, nudging his arm. “Oh, come on, it won’t be that bad.”

Nick gave her a flat look. “You said that about paperwork once. I almost quit.”

She only grinned wider.

That did not reassure him.

—

Bunnyburrow was exactly what Nick expected at first. Open fields stretched out in every direction, warm air drifting through the train doors as they stepped off. It smelled like fresh soil and growing things, peaceful in a way Zootopia never quite was.

For about ten seconds.

Then the front door of the Hopps house opened.

“JUDY’S HOME!”

The shout rang out like a starting signal, and before Nick could even process what was happening, the yard exploded into motion. Rabbits poured out from everywhere. Small ones, older ones, all of them moving fast, all of them talking at once, voices overlapping into one giant wave of sound.

“Judy! Judy! You’re back!” “Who’s that?!” “Is that the fox?!” “He’s taller than I thought!” “Do foxes bite?!”

Nick froze.

Completely.

Judy, on the other hand, lit up like she had just been plugged into a power source.

“Guys!” she laughed, dropping her bag as she was immediately swarmed. “Hey, hey, slow down!”

They did not slow down.

Nick watched as she disappeared into a pile of siblings, his ears slowly lowering as more and more of them ran past him, around him, nearly into him. There were too many. Way too many.

“…I’m going to die here,” he muttered under his breath.

“You must be Nick!”

Nick turned, blinking as two older rabbits approached him with warm, welcoming smiles. Stu Hopps and Bonnie Hopps.

“Uh,” Nick said, straightening slightly as he slipped back into his usual charm. “Guilty.”

Stu didn’t hesitate, reaching out to grab his paw in a firm, enthusiastic handshake. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“All good things, I hope,” Nick replied automatically.

Bonnie laughed, clearly amused. “Mostly.”

That did not help.

Before Nick could recover, a blur of movement shot past his legs, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Whoa—!”

Another one followed. And another. And then three more.

Nick looked down at the chaos swirling around him, trying and failing to track even a single rabbit as they darted between his legs.

“Carrots,” he called out, raising his voice slightly, “there are too many of them.”

“I heard that!” Judy shouted back from somewhere inside the swarm.

“You were supposed to!” he shot back.

Something tugged on his pant leg.

Nick looked down to find one of the younger siblings staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. No hesitation. No fear.

“Are you Judy’s boyfriend?” the kid asked.

Nick paused, considering.

“Well, that depends,” he said slowly. “Is there a correct answer here?”

“Yes.”

“…then yes.”

The kid nodded, completely satisfied, and immediately ran off, loudly announcing the answer to everyone within earshot.

Nick closed his eyes briefly.

“…I walked into that.”

“Nick!”

He opened them just in time to see Judy finally push her way out of the crowd, ears slightly messy, fur a little ruffled, but smiling brighter than ever.

“You’re doing great!” she said, stepping up beside him.

“I’m being evaluated,” he replied.

She laughed, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “They like you.”

“They’re interrogating me.”

“Same thing.”

More siblings began to gather around them again, forming a loose circle this time, eyes fixed on Nick with open curiosity. The energy shifted just slightly, less chaotic, more focused.

Nick exhaled slowly, then crouched down to their level, resting his arms loosely on his knees.

“Alright,” he said, lifting a paw. “Let’s make a deal.”

The chatter quieted, not completely, but enough.

“You ask your questions one at a time,” he continued, “and I promise to answer… most of them honestly.”

There was a brief pause.

Then—

“DO FOXES HAVE SHARP TEETH?!” “CAN YOU RUN REALLY FAST?!” “DID YOU SAVE JUDY?!” “DO YOU LOVE HER?!”

Nick blinked, ears flicking back.

“…okay, that was not one at a time.”

Judy laughed beside him, not even trying to hide it anymore.

Nick glanced at her, then back at the crowd of siblings staring up at him with wide, expectant eyes. For a second, just a second, he considered backing off. Deflecting. Slipping into something easier.

Instead, something in his chest softened.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as his tail flicked behind him.

“Yeah,” he said, settling into it. “Alright. Let’s try this again.”

He pointed at one of them. “You. First question.”

The kid lit up immediately, launching into another rapid-fire question, and this time Nick answered. Then another followed. And another.

The chaos didn’t disappear.

But it changed.

It became something warmer. Something easier.

And Judy noticed.

She stood just off to the side now, watching him as he talked, as he joked, as he slowly let himself be pulled into the noise and energy instead of pushing against it.

Because despite everything, despite how overwhelming it was, despite how out of his element he clearly felt…

Nick didn’t step back.

He leaned in.

And as one of her younger siblings climbed halfway onto his arm mid-question and he didn’t even flinch, Judy felt something soft settle in her chest.

Because that told her more than anything else ever could.

He wasn’t just here for her.

He was trying.