#I want to achieve the jake Peralta level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letsperaltiago · 4 years

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i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post:

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game… But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.

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daniallricciardo · 4 years

Note

How do you think Jake will react to seeing Amy in labour?

Oh wow I feel like I have thought about every possible headcanon about this… but I will go with the one that is most based in reality á la 3.08 Ava…

Jake, despite all his anxiety about being a parent, is incredibly level-headed the moment that Amy’s water breaks. Sure, he is nervous about meeting his son and hopes he will be the best parent his baby could ask for, but his brain is literally hardwired to protect his wife (He has known this since those scary weeks when Amy was undercover in prison and he had to recuse himself to stop himself from literally putting himself between Amy and a known murderer, harming her ability to solve the case in the meantime). In other words, any anxieties that could overcome his sensibilities in that moment are inaccessible from the very second Amy shakes him awake with a puddle between her legs, gritting her teeth and squeezing his shoulder through one of her first contractions. He knows that the sooner they get to the hospital, the sooner Amy can have her epidural, and the sooner her pain can at least be managed, so he literally hops up, throws on a change of clothes and hustles to Amy’s side of the bed to support her out of bed, one hand squeezing hers tightly and the other supporting her lower back. (Amy, of course, has had their hospital bag packed to the brim with every possible necessary item for weeks, so he lets go of her hand to slide the bag over his shoulder and slide their sensible champagne-colored-sedan-with-the-car-seat-already-installed’s keys into his pocket, but other than that and helping her slide into the passenger seat, his hand doesn’t leave hers until he finally gets to hold his son in his arms). He doesn’t, and can’t, allow his brain to focus on his own anxiety for the entire birthing process - all of his brain’s energy is attuned to Amy’s every need or possible want, talking to her to distract her from her pain and brushing her hair out of her eyes as she works harder and harder to bring their son - their son! - into the world. He can’t feel anything but worry for Amy’s comfort and awe of his incredible wife who is literally going through hell all so they can become parents and finally meet their baby. Then there is a moment of silence, interrupted only by Amy’s panting, until it is finally broken by a loud cry - the most gorgeous cry he has ever heard. For a moment, as the doctor calls him over to cut the umbilical cord, all of his suppressed anxieties flood back in - what if the Peralta curse is real? What if his job forces him to leave this baby behind, scarring him for life? What if he doesn’t know how to raise this baby and his son resents him? - but it all goes silent as he finally sets his sights on his son, his perfect son. As he takes him into his arms to bring him to his wife, all sound fades away, keeping his eyes on his new baby. All his questions are answered and his eyes fill with tears - all he knows is love for this precious and vulnerable life, and that feeling silences any doubts that could sideline him. And as he slides the baby into his perfect wife’s arms and watches tears stream down her face as she smiles down at the life she - they - created, there is a calm in his world that he has never been able to achieve until this very moment.

Okay I took this to the extreme… TBH its the first time I have ever been asked a headcanon so I clearly was very excited about it and went a little crazy but I really hope you like it @stars-my-darling !!!!!

#asks #headcanons #stars-my-darling #thank you for submitting!!!!#jake x amy #peraltiago #peraltiago headcanons #b99 #b99 headcanons #mini fic #b99 mini fic #peraltiago mini fic #my writing #answers

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years

Text

this is the safest place i’ve ever known

(read on ao3)

my mind is still reeling thinking about mel being pregnant and i needed some pregnancy fluff in my life so i wrote this hope you enjoy xox

Throughout their relationship, Jake has always cherished his and Amy's last moments of the day. The relaxed half an hour where she's solving crossword puzzles and he's playing games on his phone, followed by the moment she’ll decide she's tired and they'll turn out the lights and snuggle for a bit before each drifting off to sleep, is one of his favorite parts of living together. He never thought he'd see a day where these nights became even better, but the day their baby started kicking, he’d found out he’d been dead wrong.

He'd known Amy would feel it first. In a logical sense, it had felt more than fair when he considered their respective workloads for the whole pregnancy project, but on an emotional level, it wasn't as black-and-white. Jealousy was an ugly emotion, and he hadn’t experienced it for a second witnessing the first trimester’s crying feasts and vomiting episodes, but it hadn’t been without its sting when she'd texted him during the midst of a busy workday.

I think I just felt Peanut move.

Like, 90% sure.

Oh my god, he’d written back, almost immediately. I’m so proud of them.

He’d stopped for a moment before adding, I hope I can feel it soon.

I’m sure you will, babe. ❤️

It had taken two long weeks before he did.

Jake was embarrassed to admit it, but there had been times during those weeks where he’d felt left out, so clearly separate from the bond between Amy and the tiny life they’d created. She would put her hand on the ever-growing bump whenever it happened, a delighted smile on her lips, and he’d touch his hand to the exact same place without any reaction. Either their baby was shy for some reason, or they were straight-up trying to make him look like a fool. He didn’t exactly appreciate either, but any movement from them would leave Amy beaming with happiness and pride for several minutes, so he’d swallowed the self-centric jealousy, kissed her forehead and let it be.

They’d celebrated twenty-one weeks of pregnancy - more than halfway to the finish line - the night he’d first felt it. It was more of an early night in and snuggling under the comforter kind of celebration than anything else, but it had felt perfect all the same. Jake had been seconds away from closing his eyes, lazily tracing patterns with his fingers on his wife’s baby bump and pressing kisses while her shoulder, when he’d first felt something move beneath his palm. The smallest of nudges, subtle and almost inconspicuous; but he’d felt it.

“Ames,” he’d practically gawked. “They moved!”

“Yeah, I know. Wait,” she blinked, realizing what he’d said. “You felt that?”

“Yeah! About time!”

She’d laughed at his excitement, ruffling his curls as he dove under the comforter.

“I’m going to see if I can get them to do it again,” he mumbled with his lips right below her belly button, running his hands along her sides.

“Why do I feel like this is going to be a long night?”

Their evenings had gained a brand-new tradition since that night. If they’d been perfect before, Jake couldn’t help but think this was better still. Each night as they settled on their preferred sides of the bed, Amy with an increasing collection of pillows, Jake would give her about five minutes of solo crossword puzzle solving until he set to work on trying to communicate with their baby. Evenings were when they were most awake, he’d learned. To a beginning, he’d only get faint, bubbling movements that were gone in a second, but as the weeks passed, they grew more distinct until he could see them happening. It all felt very alien if he thought too hard about it, but then again, that was true for most pregnancy facts. At least he could have fun with this part.

“Jake, are you trying to annoy them into kicking?”

“Mm-hmm?” He feigns an innocent expression, pouting his lip as he looks up at his six-months-pregnant wife. “Just preparing them for the outside world, babe.”

“So they’re ready for you to annoy the crap out of them when they're born?”

“Pssch, me? I’ve never been annoying in my life.” He ignores the glare Amy shoots him. “I'm preparing them for actual annoying things, like taxes, and following rules.”

“Following rules isn't annoying,” she protests, twitching as Jake tries to tickle her. “Babe, I swear they’re asleep.”

“I swear you’re wrong.”

“Hey! I’m the one who’s carrying this child!”

“And you’re doing an awesome job of it.” He comes up for a second to give her a quick peck on the lips. He means what he’s saying - she’s totally acing the whole pregnancy thing, which he tries to remind her often - but he has his limits. “Doesn't make you any less wrong, sadly.”

“Mm, you’re infuriating.” Her hands cup his face, drawing him back for a longer kiss that makes up for in heart what it lacks in flair. “You’re adorable, though.”

“The Peralta special,” he smirks. He’s still moving his palm back and forth on her stomach, hoping for the warm touch to garner a reaction. “Did you want to go to sleep, or -”

“You can talk to them for a bit, if you want.”

Jake barely waits for her to finish her permission before he’s crawling underneath the duvet again, pressing his lips against the football-sized bump.

“So I know you’re very in love with your mom,” he starts off, earning himself another laugh from Amy. “Which, I totally get you. She’s the smartest, funniest, most beautiful and allover amazing woman I’ve ever met. Plus she’s literally growing you and all that, so you’re probably pretty loyal to her, right? That’s fair.”

He traces a heart around her belly button. “I know I’m not much in comparison to her. Right now, I’m just the weirdo guy who keeps trying to make you kick and sings Taylor Swift songs to you because you’re never too young to be introduced to the greatest songwriter of all. But do you think you could side with me, just for once? Come on. It’d be so fun to see your mom’s face.”

Nothing. He pushes his nose into Amy’s skin a bit further.

“She makes this amazing expression when I’m right and she’s wrong about something, you know. She does this eye roll and purses her lips, like she’s trying to pretend she’s mad but she’s not. Trust me, it’s incredible.”

Amy huffs. “I don’t do that.”

“Anyway, I know you’re not going to come out of there for a few months. You could actually survive now if you did, which is crazy to think about, but you shouldn’t because it would stress us all out very much and we haven’t even built your crib yet. Sorry about that. I just wanted to tell you that we’re going to have so much fun when you do,” he whispers, his voice softening. “We'll finally get to hang out just the two of us. We’re going to play games and share secrets, and when you’re a little older, we’ll watch all the movies for kids your mom never wants to see with me. It's going to be the best.”

He has to pause for a moment. He takes a couple of deep breaths, in and out, pushing away the nervous

feeling in his chest.

“I used to be scared of this, you know. I still am. But… the weird thing is, it’s like the more you grow, the more excited I get, too. Because I'm scared of a billion different things, like maybe you’ll hate me or I won't know how to take care of you or maybe you won't even like Die Hard when you get older, but…” He lowers his voice and mumbles the next words. “You're kinda already the coolest person that ever existed.”

It's so weak, barely there at all, but underneath his palm, Jake feels a faint flutter.

“It’s an impressive achievement, considering you're not even born yet,” he continues, encouraged by the miniscule movement. “But it's true. You are. And I know it's like fifteen weeks left until then, but… I really can't wait to meet you, whenever you're ready.”

There's another flutter. He presses his palm into the spot, waits a few seconds, and there's a proper kick right against his hand.

“Told you so.” He looks up at Amy with a grin plastered on his face. “Awake.”

“You woke them up,” she says, shaking her head but smiling. “Waking up when you give them praise - that’s a Peralta if I ever knew one.”

He wants to retort something, but a series of repeated kicks against his palm makes him forget what he was planning to say.

“I love you,” he whispers to their unborn child instead, his words muffled against Amy’s skin as he traces kisses up and down the curve of her stomach. “So much. You better get used to hearing me telling you that before you get out of there -”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence before there’s another kick - only this time, it’s right at his nose and packed with enough strength to make him flinch. “Ouch!”

Amy’s giggling so much she’s shaking, clasping her hand over her mouth as she keeps on laughing.

“They kicked my nose, Ames! I’m pretty sure that’s a hate crime!”

“Maybe they’re learning how to establish boundaries.”

“That or my discomfort with emotions is genetic,” he grumbles while massaging the bridge of his nose.

“It isn’t,” Amy promises him. She gestures at him to come closer and he goes willingly, meeting her lips with his and feeling her smile against them. “They just have to practice. If it’s any consolation, they’re kicking me in the bladder on a daily basis.”

Jake grimaces. “Ow.”

“Mm-hmm.” She beams, tracing her fingers through the curls near his forehead. “You’re going to be a great dad, you know.”

“You really think so?”

“I really do. And I can’t wait for us to meet our baby.”

“Our baby,” he repeats not for the first time in the last five months. Still holding one hand on the bump, he feels two more tiny kicks, growing stronger as Amy’s hand covers his.

He had a feeling their peaceful evenings together would come to change drastically in fifteen or so weeks’ time, but for now, they were well and truly perfect.

#this is just a brief thing heh i feel like it's not that great but it's FLUFFY #my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction

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kamekamelea · 5 years

Text

the one where Jake learns to trust his daughter (or not)

~Special thanks to amazing @feeisamarshmallow for beta-reading and editing 💕(check out her writing - it’s great!)~

This fic is a little birthday present for Adele @b99peraltiago, who requested #43 (parties/first time drunk) from @meepmorpperaltiago kids prompts list some time ago and I hope it brings at least a small smile to your face on your bday :))) (and thank you for letting me borrow the name Anana for this one, you know how much I love it)

Happy birthday, Adele! 💖

read on ao3

“That’s not fair!”

Jake’s heart breaks every time he’s a witness to his two precious girls fighting. And since Ana recently got into the rebellious stage of her teen life, it’s happening quite often now and Jake hates it.

“I’m not changing my mind, Ana! You’re not going to this party and I don’t want to hear any more of it!” Amy’s not shouting but her voice is so sharp it could cut. This is the authoritative Amy Santiago-Peralta speaking.

“No one ever invites me to this kind of stuff and do you wanna know why?!” his dear Anana’s eyes are full of angry tears now, her cheeks are red and puffy from crying and Jake thinks he’s too soft to have this kind of conversation with his kid. “Because guess what - both of my parents are fucking cops! That’s why!”

Well, this is new.

“Anana! Mind your language!” The shock he’s feeling is evident in his tone. “If you are not able to maintain a certain level of respect for your mother, this conversation is over. Now.” Jake is not the shouting type of parent, so he reprimands his daughter very calmly. And even though the disappointment and look of betrayal on Ana’s face almost breaks him, he doesn’t give up - there are boundaries that cannot be crossed, and using such hurtful words definitely does so.

Ana looks him deep in the eyes for a few more seconds before she turns around and runs to her room, closing the door with a loud thump, and making Amy jump. She’s still shocked from the turn their conversation took.

“Can you believe it? I feel like I don’t recognize her anymore.” His wife starts to voice her frustration, caused by their daughter’s behavior, but Jake’s buried too deep in his thoughts to pay any attention to her rant.

“I think we’re making a mistake, Ames.” He stops her mid-sentence.

“What?!”

And there she is, back to her furious mode.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You think we should let her go to that boy’s party? That’s ridiculous. What if she drinks herself unconscious? What if she does something stupid?” Suddenly Amy’s eyes get wide and there’s a look of terror on her face. “What if she does drugs?!”

“First of all, Ames, none of this will happen ‘cause we raised her better than this. She’s our daughter and we need to learn to trust her. Secondly, at least we know this guy - it’s Tommy, for God’s sake! You adore him - he aces every year’s spelling bee, he does math camps and he helped you recently with your crossword puzzle - he’s our daughter’s best friend of your dreams! Besides I don’t think this kind of guy is gonna organize a crazy party.”

“If our daughter is as naive as you, I’m worried even more. You’re so easy to fool, Peralta.” Jake’s a bit taken aback by his wife’s insult. “I’ve known guys like him - they charm you with their knowledge of physics or chemistry fun facts and than bam! There they are - trying to get to your pants!”

“God, who have you been with?” Jake’s disgust quickly changes into anger “Who was he? Did he hurt you? Do you need me to teach this guy a lesson?”

Amy’s expression softens a bit at her husband’s concern.

“I was twelve years old and all he wanted was a kiss but it was enough to scare me. Tony beat him up. Got suspended for it.”

Jake feels a sudden wave of affection towards Amy’s younger brother.

“Good to know. Anyway, I think we can trust Anana with this. She’s sixteen and it’s true what she said about her peers not inviting her to parties, you know it.”

There was an incident few months ago, when a boy from Ana’s class got arrested by cops from Amy’s precinct and it was Captain Santiago-Peralta herself who had a talk with him about the consequences of possessing drugs. Life has been hell for Ana since.

“Well, it’s not her fault that boy was trying to destroy his life.”

“True, but it’s her who suffers now from it.”

There is a moment of silence between them as they stare at each other - Jake knows it’s a hard task convincing his wife about something like this, but he is also certain about the rightness of his move. He’s not going to back out. And Amy must see the determination in his eyes cause she eventually buys in.

“Fine. But it’s your responsibility altogether - if she ends up in a hospital from alcohol poisoning, it’ll be you who sits by her bed and worries about her.” They are both aware that Amy’s bluffing right now - there’s no way she’d be able to sit still, if one of her children was suffering.

“Nothing bad will happen - wanna bet on it?” There’s a hint of excitement in Jake’s voice at the thought of rivalry.

“Jake, I am not betting on our child’s well-being.”

“Right, yeah, sorry. Got a bit ahead of myself. That’s not good parenting.”

Amy shakes her head in an act of resignation.

“I can’t believe I’m saying yes to this. It’s crazy. I’m so scared.” Her voice is quiet as she speaks her fears. Jake has known from the beginning of this argument that Amy’s opposition is fueled only by anxiety. But that doesn’t change the fact that he believes that this kind of behavior is wrong. They have to trust their soon-to-be-an-adult daughter. No matter how difficult it is for them. And all he can do now is offer his wife some comfort in a hard moment as this one, when it’s the first time their child goes to an almost adult-like party.

So he embraces her, kisses her temple and mutters into her hair soothing words.

“Anana will be fine. It’s completely natural for you to be worried, but she’ll be fine. She’s a smart girl.”

***

Five days after that conversation, Jake thinks he couldn’t be more wrong as he watches his daughter puking into their neighbours bushes.

He made a deal with Ana, that she can go to the party but he’ll pick her up at exactly 1 am and the moment she got into the car he knew she was totally drunk. It was Tommy who helped her out of the house and Jake should be probably thankful for it but instead of showing him his gratitude, he gave him a stern look of disappointment. The boy paled at the view and muttered quietly “Sorry, Mr. Peralta” before running back to his house.

And now Jake finds himself standing behind his precious offspring, who is pouring the contents of her stomach out of herself, with a hurtful expression on his face. There are so many emotions bustling inside of him - there’s anger of course, a bit of disappointment - there’s no point it denying it - but mostly worry and compassion, because his kid is in pain. There is no need for him to hold back her hair - she has it tied up in a bun, that reminds him so much of her mother. So he just stands there feeling a bit weird.

She finally finishes throwing up and he squats beside her.

“Better?” he pats her shoulder awkwardly. He’s taken care of many people who suffered from too much drinking but it’s a whole different experience when it’s his kid.

“I’m so sorry, dad. I know it was you who convinced mum and now I’ve disappointed you.”

“Not gonna argue with that. But we’re gonna talk about it in the morning, Ana.”

The absence of his pet name for her doesn’t get unnoticed as a quiet sob escapes her mouth.

“I’m really sorry. I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, don’t call my daughter stupid!” He cracks a smile in attempt to cheer her up a little, and strokes her hair. He can’t stand her seeing sad, she’s his precious little girl. “You’re young, not stupid. And this -” he points at the vomit in front of them “- this is just a mistake. A mistake that you’re gonna learn from, right?” she nods biddably. “Come on, let’s go home before your mum gets suspicious.” He makes an attempt to stand up but Ana’s tuck on his jacket stops him.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, Ananas.” he plants a kiss on her forehead and offers her a hand to help her stand up.

They sneak into the house without waking Amy up, and Jake thinks it’s one of his greatest achievements as a father.

***

“Babe, why is our daughter up so early after a party and mowing the lawn?”

Jake’s making coffee in the kitchen when he hears his wife’s sleepy voice. He turns around to greet her with a quick kiss on her cheek and smiles at the sight in front of him. Amy looks beautiful as always, even though she’s wearing not very fancy plaid pajamas and a silk robe on top. Her hair is already combed regardless her waking up just minutes ago.

And she’s right - it is very early in the morning, Ana doesn’t get up this early even on week days, not to mention the weekend.

“Well since I’m not allowed to spill anything regarding last night’s events, all I’m gonna say, is that what you see is me enforcing some good old days discipline.”

There is now a playful smirk on Amy’s face as she approaches her husband with a glint in her eyes.

“So, you’re saying this is some sort of punishment for Ana?”

“That’s one way to put it. I spend most of the night thinking what would be a perfect lesson for her and I came up with the best idea. The effect of consuming too much alcohol is a penalty itself. All I have to do is to make sure she remembers this hangover.”

Yes, he has a whole list of chores for his little Anana to do and mowing the lawn at 7.30 on Saturday morning is one of the most pleasurable ones.

He watches their daughter from the coziness of their kitchen, as she dutifully performs the task he gave her and he’s not able to fight the proud smirk that creeps it’s way on his face. He shouldn’t be so smug about this, right?

But his ego is stroked even more when Amy speaks, hugging him from behind and kissing his neck.

“Mmm you’re such a brilliant dad, I think it turns me on a little.” She almost purrs into his shoulder blade, making him beam.

“So, you’re saying you have a thing for dads?” He chuckles before turning around to face her and his hands immediately find their way to her waist.

“Nah, just the father of my children.”

And that’s it for Jake, he can no longer hold back as he dips in for a kiss. His wife responds very eagerly to his actions and it surprises him a bit even though it shouldn’t. His hands slide beneath the top of her pajamas and he starts caressing her back with his palms, knowing how much she enjoys it. It’s a completely innocent touch but it earns him a moan from Amy nonetheless.

After a moment of hot kisses, hectic touches and whimpering sounds it’s Amy who eventually comes to her senses even if just for a second.

“Atlas is still asleep and Ana is gonna be busy for at least half an hour or so. You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” There is a radiant smile on her pretty face, her cheeks are pink, eyes are shining and there is no way Jake could ever say no to her.

“Definitely.”

And so he dutifully follows his wife to their bedroom.

(Next time Jake picks Anana up after a party, he still can tell she’s tipsy but she hides it really well. What she can’t hide though is a big hickey on her neck and this time it’s Amy who has to calm him down when they have another difficult conversation with their daughter the next morning.)

#happy birthday!#this is me trying to say thank you for sharing your talent with us #i wish you all the best #b99 #b99fic #b99 fic #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #jake x amy kids #kids prompts #jake x amy x kids #jake peralta #jake peralta fic #amy santiago #my writing #fanfiction #brooklyn nine nine #kasia writes

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the-pontiac-bandit · 5 years

Text

catch your dreams

in which amy santiago and jake peralta watch a presidential primary debate with their children, and one of those children is enamored with governor knope of indiana.

also on ao3

“Welcome to the first debate of the 2036 election! My name is Cecile Stafford, and with me tonight is my co-moderator Cooper Liddell. We’re thrilled to welcome you to this exciting primary contest--”

“MOM!” Ana’s shout from the kitchen table drowns out the TV. “I CAN’T FIND MY FOLDER!”

“Oh! I think I saw it earlier!” Jake shouts back from the master bedroom down the hall.

“Um...where?” Ana sounds surprised--his father loses things even more frequently than he does, and only twice in the thirteen year-old��s memory has her father ever been the one to find something lost.

“UNDER YOUR BUTT!” Jake’s uproarious laughter draws eye rolls from his wife and older daughter, seated side-by-side on the couch, and a giggle that matches his own from the small boy seated between them. Rey has a journal open on her lap, a pencil (she would never dare use a pen on the couch--those things can stain) already scratching away at the top of a new page. Her social studies teacher promised her extra credit for her thoughts on the debate, and she’ll be damned if she isn’t going to earn it.

Her mother pipes up from next to her, for the benefit of eight year-old Eli, curled up in the crook of her arm. “Jake, potty words stay in the…?”

“Potty,” comes the somewhat subdued response from the bedroom. Satisfied, Amy turns her attention back to the kitchen.

“Ana, did you check your backpack? It’s by the front door.”

Ana’s sigh of annoyance is audible, even over the audience applause coming from the TV’s top-of-the-line surround sound speakers (Jake had purchased them in order to better appreciate Avatar in all its cinematic glory). “Mom. I already checked there.”

“Well--” Amy starts to reply, ready to list the other places where her seventh-grader habitually leaves her possessions (it’s truly a miracle how easily the Jake and Ana manage to lose things in an apartment so small she has to share a bathroom with her teenage daughters).

“AHA!” Ana cuts her off triumphantly. Then, her voice turns sheepish. “I found it.”

“Where?” Amy asks, a hint of smugness in her voice betraying her certainty that the folder was in her daughter’s sequin backpack, thrown unceremoniously by the door five hours before.

Ana’s voice is sheepish. “...I was sitting on it,” she admits reluctantly, sticking her head around the door to the living room.

Then, a clatter from the bedroom startles all of them. Jake emerges with a triumphant shout, “I was right! It was under your butt!”

None of them hear him, though. They’re all too busy staring--while they’d been peacefully doing the dishes, Jake had been pulling a Tupperware bin of costumes out from the hall closet and adorning himself with every bit of red-white-and-blue attire the Santiago-Peralta family possessed.

“What?” he says, in response to the four pairs of eyes trained on him. “I had to get ready for the debate!” On the word debate, he leaps into the air, doing his best to imitate his fifteen-year-old ballerina daughter. He lands loudly, rattling the decorative plates hung on the wall behind him, and looks up at his family, a mohawk wig worn six years ago to Charles’ Fourth of July barbecue sitting crooked so his graying curls are visible underneath.

The entire family pauses for a second, a commercial about some adult-onset asthma medication droning on in the background. Then, everyone is laughing. Jake hops on the sofa next to his daughter, bouncing everyone around while his son’s cheeks turn rosy pink with his deep belly laugh and his more serious daughter’s soft giggle fills the room.

Jake and Eli are still laughing, Jake’s wig now perched on Eli’s much smaller head, covering his eyes, when a sudden swell in patriotic music and applause jerks them back to reality.

Rey has her hand on the volume button, eyeing them defiantly. “It’s starting,” she informs her father seriously as the speakers approach their maximum volume.

Ana, now laying on the floor with the previously-lost folder full of crumpled pages of math homework, grabs a pillow to cover her ears with an eye roll as Amy snags the remote from Rey. “Quick, turn it down!” she says, still breathless from laughter. “Before the neighbors call again!”

She switches the volume back to acceptable levels, but Rey doesn’t even seem to notice. Jake leans over and notices that she has columns for each candidate in her notebook, with her neat handwriting listing names, previous qualifications, and current offices.

“Our senator’s running, you know,” Rey announces. “Foster Cromwell. He’s supposed to win. It’d be cool to have another New York president. I think I’d vote for him.”

“You shouldn’t vote for someone just because they’re from your state,” Amy explains. “You want to vote for the person with the best ideas.”

“But you think he has good ideas! You voted for him last year!” Rey retorts.

“I do,” Amy concedes. “Senator Cromwell is very smart. But let’s see who else is on stage before we start committing our votes!”

Rey nods, writing furiously in her notebook as Harris finishes his opening statement. Seven candidates follow him, with opening statements so rehearsed and identical that Jake starts to nod off by the time the eighth candidate gets her minute.

“My name is Leslie Knope, and I’m the governor of Indiana. I may be new to the national political scene, but I’ve worked in government longer than any of the people on stage with me. My career began in the local Parks and Recreation department in--”

Something in her voice makes Jake snap to attention. His eyes open, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Amy sitting up straighter, too. Even Ana, pretending to be entirely disengaged from her spot on the carpet, has stopped writing.

The moment only lasts a few seconds, but it captures Jake’s attention. The tiny blonde woman on the far edge of the stage is electric, and her story about a swing, national parks, conservation, and hard work feels like it could be much longer than a minute.

The audience in the room seems to agree, with a swell of applause so loud that Amy has to turn the volume down another few notches.

“Who is she?” Amy asks her daughter.

Rey consults her notebook. “Governor of Indiana. She used to work at the Department of the Interior, and in the National Parks Service before that. She’s from...Pow-nee, I think is how you say it.”

Eli laughs. “Pow-nee’s funny.”

“Pow-NEE, Pow-NEE,” Jake repeats, poking his son in the stomach on each syllable while his son giggles.

“Shh!” Rey shoots a death glare--scarily like Amy’s--at her father as the moderators ask the first question.

Jake rapidly gets lost again in the technical language about public options, data privacy, and global trade pacts, so he settles on watching his wife, who clearly seems to know what’s going on. She’s enthralled, fascinated by the detailed policy discussion. Meanwhile, Rey is scribbling furiously.

“Governor Knope, one of your most-discussed achievements in Indiana is your prison reform bill, which aided the state’s recovery from the opioid crisis and restructured policing in the face of drug crimes. “Which such reforms are necessary at the national level, and how would you pursue them?”

As Governor Knope launches into a response about her work with the local police chief and how that translated into statewide work on bias training and accountability, Rey stops writing, her jaw slowly dropping.

When Governor Knope finishes, the debate cuts to a commercial break, and Rey turns sharply to her parents.

“Grandpa Ray talks about that stuff all the time!”

Amy smiles at her daughter. “He does. He’s worked hard on some of those policies in the NYPD for years.”

“But government people do it, too?”

“They can.”

“Do government people in New York do it?” Ana pipes up.

“Sometimes, but not as much as we want them to. That’s why Grandpa Ray has been working so hard--to change those things from the inside, since people aren’t changing them from the outside.”

“Oh.” Rey looks thoughtful. “Do you have to be a governor to do that? Change it from the outside?”

Amy looks thoughtfully at her daughter before starting an explanation about the endless nonprofit groups, researchers, and government employees who help elected officials make decisions like Governor Knope’s. She’s quickly cut off, though, by the music indicating that the debate has returned, which cues her daughter’s attention back to the candidates and her notebook.

----------

Amy’s surprised the next day when her daughter brings home five books from her high school library about the history of government and criminal justice reform. Rey dives in headfirst, and it’s all she talks about for months. Later that year, Amy’s just as surprised when Governor Knope surges from behind in the polls and captures the nomination, and even more surprised when she denies a strong Republican president a second term.

By April of her oldest daughter’s senior year, Amy’s only a bit surprised when Rey confidently announces that she’d like to turn down NYU and move to Washington, D.C., and study political science. When Jake and Amy are on a train back from Georgetown the next fall, having just moved Rey into her new dorm, Jake can’t stop crying about their baby moving away. Amy smiles as she pats his shoulder as their two younger children roll their eyes.

And six months after that, when her daughter calls screaming about an internship with President Knope’s special commission on national criminal justice reform, Amy’s hardly surprised at all.

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #amy santiago #parks and rec #parks and recreation #leslie knope #well #president leslie knope #rey and ana and eli #kidfic #yall i wrote next-gen fic #about the fucking democratic primary debate #as i have been saying all day #this was an ACCIDENT #i was in a dangerous zone between parks and rec and b99 and my actual major #so anyway #my writing #lmk what you think

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santiagoswagger · 5 years

Note

“You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.” 😈😈😈

For you, queen 👑I hope you like it!

The night before her first day as sergeant, Amy thinks about her future.

Prompt: “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

The sweat had barely begun to evaporate from their skin when Jake’s voice shattered their post-boink bliss.

“Is everything alright, Ames?” He sounded so careful, each word punctuated with a soft caress on her bare back.

She turned around in his arms to face him head-on. “I think I just proved to you that I’m more than alright,” she laughed. She moved to turn back around, relishing a rare night as the little spoon, when he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Amy, I’m serious. You didn’t just wake me up at 2 am because you were ‘in the mood.’ Not that I’m complaining, but you hate disrupting your REM cycle, even for sexy times.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Talk to me.”

Amy sighed. The last few weeks had been such a rollercoaster of emotions for her. Since she’d learned of her promotion to sergeant, she had felt something different every day – excitement at finally achieving a long-held goal, fear of failure and the unknown, nostalgia for the job she’d be leaving behind. You name it, she was it.

She had been open with Jake about most of the things she was feeling and he had been nothing but the supportive fiancé she had always known him to be. He was always ready with a back rub when she was so tense with panic and he had taken to leaving post-its filled with quotes from her favorite authors around the house to inspire her. But tomorrow was her first day as a real, official sergeant and she wasn’t sure any words could quiet the looming doubts in her mind tonight.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” she said, resigned.

“Try me,” he smirked.

She paused, considering him for a moment before deciding to push forward. Maybe his words of encouragement would actually do the trick.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about my goals and the life calendar lately,” she started, looking down and absentmindedly twirling the engagement ring on her left hand. His eyes followed her movements for a brief moment before he trained them back on her with laser focus. “I’ve wanted to be a police captain for so long, ever since I was a little girl. But I’m afraid of what will happen if I get there and it’s not what I thought it would be. What if I was meant to stay a detective?”

She remembers the day she decided she wanted to be a captain in the NYPD so vividly: she was four years-old and her dad had let her wear his badge around the house, earning her the wrath and jealousy of most of her brothers. She had refused to take it off all day, wearing it through dinner and her nightly bath, only agreeing to take it off for bed when her mother bribed her with an extra chapter during story time. Amy couldn’t bear to think that her four-year-old self might have gotten it all wrong.

She looked up at Jake and saw that he was lost in thought, still softly caressing her back. The steady sweeps of his thumb were surprisingly calming, and Amy felt her high anxiety levels start to dissipate, just a bit.

After a few quiet moments, he spoke. “I don’t think any of us are meant to stay the same forever, babe. I mean, look at me – I have a savings account now and I finally learned what fabric softener is for. People change, and that’s okay.”

It was simple, but it rang true. It was classic Peralta.

“That’s true,” she said, considering him thoughtfully.

He cracked a small smile, almost as if he knew he had her hooked. “Plus, being a captain doesn’t mean you can’t be a badass detective anymore. Captain Holt still gets out in the field all the time.”

Amy hated that she hadn’t thought of that first. If her mentor could still solve cases while leading the precinct to perfection, then she could too.

Amy smiled as the realization dawned on her, feeling the tension empty from her body for the first time in weeks. “You’re so right. When did you get so wise?”

He beamed back at her before dotting her shoulder with a few light kisses. “I’ve always been supes wise, Ames. Now let’s get some beauty rest. You have a big day tomorrow, Sarge.”

As Amy turned on her side to finally get some much-needed sleep, she knew that everything would be okay. Of course it would – she had Jake by her side.

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #pls enjoy this post-sexy times pillow talk!

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jimmypeakes · 5 years

Text

ADAM DIMARCO? No, that’s actually JIMMY PEAKES from the GOLDEN TRIO ERA. You know, the child of BRANWEN PEAKES (NÉE GOYLE) and JEREMIAH PEAKES? Only 19 years old, this GRYFFINDOR alumni works as an AUROR IN TRAINING and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. HE identifies as CIS-MAN and is a HALF-BLOOD who is known to be IMPULSIVE, CARELESS, and IMPATIENT but also COURAGEOUS, ENTHUSIASTIC, and LOYAL. — &&. ( SAM, EST, THEY/THEM, 24. )

character parallels: gordon tracy ( thunderbirds ) + lorelai gilmore ( gilmore girls ) + sam wilson ( marvel comics ) + ron weasley ( harry potter ) + betty cooper ( archie comics ) + mike wheeler ( stranger things ) + anna ( frozen ) + legolas greenleaf ( the lord of the rings ) + donna noble ( doctor who ) + peter pevensie ( the chronicles of narnia ) !!

THREE HEADCANONS

— ❝ 01. Branwen Goyle was never a big fan of her family, and was out of the Goyle sphere of existence as soon as she finished Hogwarts. She ended up marrying a muggle man, Jeremiah Peakes, when she was around 25 years old, and had her first child two years later. She and Jeremiah ended up having a total of five children, all boys, and Jimmy is the second youngest out of them. He’s always kind of been the trouble-maker of the family, and though all of his brothers were over-achievers, he never felt any less proud of himself or that he had to compete with them. In fact, he’s a pretty easy-going person, and tends not to worry all that much. He’s fun to be around, and absolutely despises tension. He’s always trying to make light of difficult situations, and maybe sometimes cracks a joke when it’s not the exact right time. He’s been working on that, though, and can take things seriously. It’s like… He just needs a little something to help him grow up a bit more.

— ❝ 02. Jimmy Peakes does not have any problems finding people to date whatsoever. He’s very flirty, and quite agreeable to be around, and therefore, it’s quite easy for him to attract others. He’s pansexual and panromantic, and has never counted gender in the equation when it comes to romance or who he’s attracted to. He never really questioned his sexuality either. He always knew that he didn’t only like girls, and that whether they were girls or not didn’t matter to him. He first told his brothers he didn’t only like girls when he was seven years old. Like, just… Stood on the couch on Christmas day and announced he wasn’t straight. Which was a word he had learned thanks to the fact that Branwen and Jeremiah Peakes taught their children things about the world and had always made it clear to them that no prejudices would be tolerated. And as Jimmy tended to be a bit dramatic, of course he had to make a big announcement out of it.

— ❝ 03. Jimmy was a very active child, and still, to this day, constantly needs to be doing something. He’s a huge fan of flying and Quidditch, and that’s why he tried out for the Gryffindor team in his third (?) year. However, he always knew he didn’t want to take it to the professional level. Not only did he not have the patience to train as much as was necessary to become a professional, but he also didn’t think he’d be able to stand being only challenged physically, as he does love an intellectual challenge too. Sure, there are plenty of Quidditch players who are much smarter than him, but for him, personally, given the way he functions as a person, it wouldn’t work. He likes things that are more varied, which is why he ended up settling on becoming an auror. Not only was one of his heroes one, but also he couldn’t think of a better thing to do with himself than stop bad guys and save innocents. Plus, it presented a variety of challenges, both physical and intellectual, and therefore truly motivated Jimmy.

Has three older brothers and one younger brother, who I’ll definitely beg y’all to play hehe.

Yes, his family was inspired by the Tracy family from the Thunderbirds TV show(s) (and movie, though we don’t talk about that. I mean, I do love it, but I acknowledge the fact that it’s... Not the best.)

Definitely inspired by Gordon Tracy. Like, I’m not even trying to be subtle about it. For reference, though, my favourite is John. But Gordon is a close second. But actually, it changes a lot.

I do realize this turned into me just talking about Thunderbirds, but it’s my one (1) niche interest, and I will never ever shut up about it. I do apologize about that, though.

Loves classical music! Like, isn’t that into music in general, but he does really appreciate classical music. And like, he does enjoy music, it’s just not a passion of his.

Is going to be so into the year 2029 like how much things have changed? Amazing. And since his dad’s a muggle, he’s quite connected to the muggle world, so to see how things have evolved over there? WOW.

Probably was the kid who kept on trying to make muggle devices work at Hogwarts by tinkering with them, but then mocked/teased (I’m never sure what the difference between those words is; I should Google it probably) his younger brother when he brought a walkman (or whatever the equivalent of that was at the time) to Hogwarts.

Loves all things water related. Used to hang out a lot by the lake, and went swimming whenever he got the chance. He’s a very strong swimmer.

Kind of? Bad at dealing with emotions? Jake Peralta could also be a character parallel for him, honestly.

Has literally never interacted with his mother’s family, as they consider him and his brothers huge mistakes and stains on their reputation. Would fight a Goyle, 100%.

Would die for his family (his brothers, siblings-in-law and parents - maybe even niblings if someone who plays one of his brothers want said brother to have a child or children), no doubt about it.

His dad’s actually rich, so even though Branwen (Jimmy’s mother) got disowned, they never lacked of anything. Especially the newest technology and vehicles, as that was the field his dad was in. Please don’t @ me for all these stolen Thunderbirds ideas I am but a small, idealess Sam.

Plays Dungeons & Dragons with friends and (maybe - depending on the people who potentially play them) some of his brothers and plays a wonderfully chaotic neutral forest gnome rogue named Alvyn. No family name for Alvyn, because he’s just too cool for that.

( FOOD TW ) Is actually a somewhat decent cook.

Will most likely marathon a shit ton of old (but new for him) superhero movies in 2029. Because, yeah. He loves superhero movies. He prefers Marvel movies, but DC comics. Which is not at all inspired by my own taste. Not. At all.

+ ABOUT PAGE !! + PINTEREST BOARD !! ( coming soon ) + CONNECTIONS PAGE !! ( coming soon )

#quantum intro #❛ good kid bad brains living for whatever. ❜ — introduction.#❛ all the trails we blazed have long since been paved. ❜ — character development.

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meepmorpperaltiago · 6 years

Text

A Perfect Night

I don’t want to give away too much about this one, so all I’m going to say is that I hope you enjoy it!

On the dark and unseasonably cold Friday that officially marked her and Jake’s tenth relationship anniversary, to say that Amy Santiago-Peralta was exhausted would’ve been an understatement. Much to their disappointment, they had found themselves unable to take the time off to celebrate during the day – they were going to go out and celebrate properly at the weekend, whilst Jake’s parents babysat, so that they would have more time to relax together. So she had spent the date that had officially brought her to the love of her life ten years previously, sorting through mounds of paperwork and dealing with petty in-fights from the detectives under her command. Achieving her biggest dream was obviously incredible, but the job could be exhausting sometimes and she had just wanted to spend the day with her husband. She hadn’t seen him since this morning.

Her heart jolted when she heard the almost shrill buzz of her phone, adding to her already-irritable mood. She felt a little better when she saw that it was a message from Jake and her heart soared up from its previous pit of despair when she read his message. Apparently he had decided to take matters into his own hands and had found a museum for them to go to that night. He had arranged for a babysitter too – they would still go to out for the fancy dinner that they had planned at the weekend, but his logic was that at least they could do something. As she finished her last bit of paperwork, she thought that maybe the day could improve after all.

There was something else in his smile when she got home, an extra level of excitement that she couldn’t quite figure out the cause for. She also noticed that he had already dropped the kids off with their next door neighbour, which seemed a little early, but she wasn’t going to argue against him becoming more organised.

Then she saw the beautiful dress that he had laid out on their bed – and her confusion increased when he saw that he was wearing a suit.

“Babe, don’t you think that we’re dressed a little fancy for a museum?”, she asked with a puzzled tone as she picked up the dress.

“It’s our anniversary, I thought it would be nice to go a little over the top, y’know?” was his fairly flippant response as he did up his tie. Knowing every note of his voice so well after ten years, she didn’t quite believe him. But she didn’t want to mess up whatever he was really planning, so she didn’t question it, instead agreeing and then going over and doing up his tie for him, giving him a quick peck on the lips when she was done.

Her suspicions were confirmed (and her confusion increased), when they pulled up outside of the rec centre that they were supposed to get married in all those years ago. She finally decided to just be straight with him.

“Babe, what’s going on?”, she asked curiously.

“You’ll see soon – and don’t worry, it’s not a second wedding ceremony.”

That thought had crossed her mind and she was glad to know that he hadn’t gone that over the top.

She felt rather out of place as they walked through the cold, slightly dirty and unlit corridor of the rec centre. In spite of how perfect their wedding had eventually been, she felt a hint of sadness, as she thought back to the beautiful ceremony and reception that she had arranged, that had never come to pass.

Suddenly, they turned around on a corner and she was hit with a blast of light as she heard about 70 voices yelling “Surprise!”. She looked around in shock – it was everyone who would have been at their wedding, plus the kids who had been born to their family and friends since, including her and Jake’s own children. She looked around the room. All of the decorations they were supposed to have had were in front of her – there was even a (presumably frosting-filled) Die Hard cake, in amongst a buffet that had been laid out. It was the reception that they had never had, perfectly recreated down to the most minute detail on their tenth anniversary.

She was speechless, frozen with joy and shock. Her eyes filled with tears as, after a few seconds, Love Story by Taylor Swift started to play and Jake led her to the dance floor, to recreate their first dance, one of the few parts of their original wedding that had gone according to plan, although in a rather different venue to the one they had originally planned.

“I thought we’d start off with the first dance, do things a little out of order – are you happy with all of this?” he tentatively whispered in her ear as they got close, clearly anxious to hear whether she approved.

“I’ve never been happier”, she reassured him through her tears.

Her heart filled with joy as she ate with, heard (increasingly competitive in both their father’s cases) speeches from, danced (and drank a little) with all of the people she loved most in the world.

Her biggest recurring thought throughout the evening was that she was so glad she had stepped into the evidence lock-up all those years ago.

#b99 #b99 fanfic #peraltiago fanfic #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake x amy #my writing

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nalufever · 7 years

Text

A Case of the Feelz

Brooklyn Nine Nine Jake X Amy Canonverse-esque Word Count: 1829 Rating: mildly mature

Warning: New to this fandom and first time writing for Jamy. Here’s my take (even though this prolly has been done already and better) on the events leading up to Amy and Jake in bed after their first official ‘romantic stylez’ date.

Summary: Alcohol was mighty fine for greasing nervous wheels - now had it been Amy or Jake who made the first move into bed? Sex was supposed to be off the table, but rules like 'no sex on a first date’ and things like piñatas, glow sticks and egg shells were so meant to be broken.

It was weird with a giant helping of delightful. Amy preened under the warm attention from Jake. A Jake on his 'best behaviour.’ A man full of himself; yet dorky and dosing his teasing with honesty. He was having a great time and it showed in the smile that never dropped from his lips. Was this the same guy who’d purposefully planned a terrible date after he’d won their 'most perps caught’ bet?

Dinner was an understandable blur. Four Kamikaze shots will do that to a person. And wine with dinner - well, wine for Amy and a disgusting array of sweet mixed drinks for Jake. Once the appropriate level of drunkenness was achieved, conversation became loud and never lagged. Jake made Amy laugh.

Debris taken away and final drinks in hand; Jake tossed down money to cover the tab. “This was prolly the best date you’ve ever had Ames.” He winked, enjoying the brief look of annoyance. As much as he likes Amy, he loves winding her up - every chance he gets. “Let’s get some air.”

“All right.” Amy gave Jake her most challenging look from down her nose. “I’m surprised at you detective Peralta. Not gonna try to take me home?”

“I remember your third rule and don’t wanna tempt you too much.” Jake rose from his seat and staggered behind Amy to assist her from her chair with a flourish. “We’ll have to cab it on account of how drunk you are.” He grinned and winked. “You’re so the type to have busy hands while I’m trying to drive.”

“You wish!” Amy pretended a look of outrage. “There’s no way I’d let either of us drive.” It would have been more of a stunning set down if she hadn’t also laughed. She slung her purse over her shoulder and lead the way out of the restaurant, head held high.

Jake about swallowed his tongue - Amy did things for the clothes she wore. Good things. She did things for his clothes too - his pants were strangling him. That hip swaying action; oh man, he could watch that for hours. Red dresses were now his kryptonite.

Stepping out onto the pavement, Jake offered Amy his arm. Gratified by how easy she accepted it, he beamed. “Ames, we should totally drink a toast to celebrate how awesome our romantic stylez date went.”

“Oh, it is over?”

“… It doesn’t have to be.” Jake nodded in time with the clack of Amy’s heels as they walked. “I’ll let you invite me over.”

“Let you?”

“All right.” Jake shot Amy a smug look which in retrospect wasn’t the smartest idea - but hell, teasing her was the best. He rubbed where Amy had punched his arm, doing his best to hide his wince. Damn, that was gonna bruise. Good thing he didn’t mind a little rough housing. “Since you insist!” He whistled and flagged down a cab, intending to open the door for Amy. She beat him to it and ushered him in - goosing him in the process and cackling madly to hear his yelp.

She swatted his arm again as he gave her address to the cabbie and assured the man that Amy was big tipper. As a modern man, Jake is all about sharing costs. Paying for a date doesn’t mean he’s entitled to anything either. Oh, he sure as hell hopes so, but he’s not anywhere near that foolish. On the other hand (and Amy’s hands look pretty good too) he’d 'put out’ if Amy asked, nicely mind you. He shares a smirk with the driver and downgrades his words to the truth; 'just ask.’

Longest most embarrassing cab ride over, Amy sprints from the car covering her ears as Jake adds more fuel to her blush. He’s telling the cabbie it’s awesome how eager she is for the sex.

His affable grin doesn’t drop one inch as she repeats from earlier, 'sex is off the table on a first date.’

He nods sagely as she stumbles a bit - when did the floor get so uneven? “Depends how sturdy the table is, really - or if you wanted a new one.”

Smooth, clever like always - but a bit nervous under that veneer? Amy wants to see Jake squirm. She wants to see lots of things. Naughty things - but she promised herself to take this slow. Jake was all kinds of wonderful mixed with smart and irrepressible. “I’ve broken a table before.” She arches her eyebrow and gives him her own Amy Santiago smirk.

Never at a loss for words long, (or ever) Jake nods and agrees in a humble tone, “That sounds like bragging. I’m gonna have to give a second opinion on that. Tell you what, I’ll let you have your way with me on any two tables you want.” As designed, this spins them into a conflict over which two tables Amy could live with destroyed. Jake doesn’t think Amy understands. At this point she has tacitly agreed to have wild physical intimacy with him and on doily encrusted tables no less.

This is fun for the both of them; open flirting - a bit of give and take. Jake gives the most outrageous statements serious delivery and Amy takes everything she hears and does her best to memorize. She’s delightfully drunk, riffing off on his absurdities and adding to them. It’s actually quite awesome how clever they both are. This is indeed the best first date. Hey - it’s kinda the second date between them - Jake did score more arrests, taking her out in that hideous blue dress.

This knowledge swims around in the simmering soup of passion inside of Amy. She laughs in the kitchen where she’s grabbing another round of drinks. Flirting is thirsty work. She goes back into her living room and plops down next to Jake who has flung his tie off lord knows where, but he looks like he’s thought of something he needs to take care of urgently in his own apartment.

“What’s the matter?” She doesn’t give him the chance to turn down the beer, placing the bottle on his knee - making him have to stop bouncing it.

He moves to grip it and nods. “Cool cool cool cool cool.”

Amy scoots closer, loving Jake’s red cheeks. “If I told you, you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”

He sputters, “That’s so old. Can’t you think of any newer lines?” How many drinks has Amy had anyway? His virtue is in dire straits. He wants to do the do, but they vowed 'not on the first date’ and dammit he was a man of principle. A dirty, lustful and horny man - but with a few selected important virtues. No going back on his word, no means no. Yeah, he’s not dead - he wants recreational stress relief more than his next breath. Santiago is all kinds of sexy.

“You know what we agreed at the start of the date?”

“Going halvsies? I’ll let you pay half now as a special favour.” Jake took a nervous gulp of his drink and then relaxed to see the amusement dance in Amy’s eyes.

She plucked his beer away and set it and her drink down on two doily coasters. So sue her! She liked doilies. Her tongue darted out and wet her lips. She narrowed her eyes at Jake. “We agreed no sex on the first date - but that -”

“But that doesn’t rule out things that lead up to sex!” Jake cheered. “I have the best partner, ever.”

“I will gray-cious, gray-cee-us - yes.” Amy gave up and straddled Jake’s lap. She paused. In that pause, that second - the Jake she knew as a wise-cracking detective shed some of his braggadocio and become a more honest version of himself. His want was clear to her; whatever she saw fit to give him. And Amy was willing to bet every last doily she had and half of her binder collection (she wasn’t that impaired to risk all of them) that it would be magical.

Amy set her index finger in his chin dimple. She gave him a soft smile and slowly lowered her mouth to his.

Jake liked this, ahem, a lot - and so did Jake Jr. He settled his hands on Amy’s hips and let himself arch up. She didn’t scream, slap him or jump off - so he opened his mouth and made it a two pronged attack.

One hand under her shirt directly on her flesh and the other digging into her pleasing derriere, Jake couldn’t hold in his moans. Santiago was a devil. Her tongue was busy gathering intel and then staged a coup - blasting all his remaining thoughts into the stratosphere.

Holy shit, Ames was on board and making a full press assault. Jake hissed more in pleasure than pain as Amy yanked on hair, forcing his head back. She ran her tongue down his neck and giggled. Giggled.

“What, do I taste funny?”

“Ooh! The name of your sex tape!”

Jake waggled his brows, “If you play your cards right, ours.”

Amy pulled on Jake’s shirt and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons. “Let’s take this to my room.”

“Heh, aren’t all these your rooms?” Jake joked, remembering the number one rule not to be broken. His grin turned into a smirk - man, Ames was a wicked kisser.

“Technically this is our second date.”

“Noice.” Jake kept Amy in his arms and sprang from the couch, huffing only a little. He wasn’t weak or anything, Ames was built sturdy. Stripping her would make her lighter and ditching his own clothes was the new plan.

On Amy’s sensible duvet, a gloriously naked Jake Peralta grinned down at an equally grinning Amy Santiago. She threaded her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. She might be under his body but she still held a position of authority. Amy speared her tongue into Jake’s mouth and destroyed what was left of his mind.

Did it matter who made the first move? Hells no. What was important, was the mutual desire raging out of control. It burned bright, a many splendored case of the feelz.

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 9 9 #fan fic #jake x amy #jamy #mature #my writing #fluff/smut

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