#lockscreens mac peralta

[editsperaltiago]

jake & mac lockscreens.

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[peraltasames]

you outshine the morning sun, my son

amy's first lazy saturday morning home with jake and mac 💗

read on ao3

Amy can immediately sense something is off when she wakes. There’s something strange - something in the air that feels different, foreign, unfamiliar.

It takes a moment and a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand informing her that it’s half-past nine, but she realizes that what’s different is the silence.

All week since they brought Mac home from the hospital, she’s woken each morning (and many, many nights) to the sound of her son crying in the bassinet next to their bed, which is currently empty - as is Jake’s side of the mattress.

A part of her is tempted to fall back asleep and take advantage of as many uninterrupted hours of rest as she can get, but her mother’s words of advice in the maternity ward a week ago ring loud in her memory: “Don’t take it for granted. Not one early Saturday morning, not one late-night diaper change, not a single moment.”

Truly, she has loved every minute of being a mother so far, including the sleepless nights and diapers. She does appreciate the value of sleep more than ever before, as well, but she figures the woman who raised eight children must have some idea what she’s talking about. She’s not going to waste a single moment.

The sight she’s greeted with the moment she steps into the living room is more than enough proof that Camila was absolutely right.

Jake is laying on the couch in nothing but sweatpants, Mac draped over his chest and nestled in the crook of his elbow. He’s happily drinking from one of the bottles she pumped yesterday, incredibly content in his dad’s arms while Jake watches some Saturday morning cartoon on low volume.

(He’s been spending a lot more time with fewer clothes on in the name of skin-on-skin contact. She’s not sure if she’s more turned on by him following advice he read in a book or the added bonus of seeing her husband walking around the apartment without a shirt on all the time.)

It’s a picture-perfect image, one that she would be remiss not to document despite the fact that the memory is likely to live in her brain for many years to come. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her pajama pants and snaps a photo that’s definitely lockscreen-worthy.

“Good morning, you two,” she says with a blinding smile, leaning against the doorframe.

Jake turns his attention away from the TV to meet her gaze, his face immediately softening and the corner of his mouth turning upward.

“Mornin’, beautiful.”

The constant string of compliments he’s given her any time he gets the chance since they learned of her pregnancy still makes her cheeks turn pink, not unlike the blush that crept on her face from her ears to the tip of her nose when he first brought her flowers before a date or put his arm around her at the movies.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen, should still be hot. And I cut up a mango on reflex, so that’s in the fridge if you want some.”

She smiles; mangoes were one of her most frequent pregnancy cravings, and Jake would often bring her a bowl while she was watching TV or as breakfast in bed before she even thought to ask for it.

“Thanks, babe,” she says, swooping down to kiss his cheek on her way to the kitchen.

She savours the taste of hot, fully-caffeinated coffee on her tongue - she’s still limiting her intake while breastfeeding, but it’s a luxury after all these months of herbal tea and decaf.

She settles in on the couch next to her son and her husband, setting her mug on the table so she can curl into Jake’s side and lay her head on his shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to watch kids shows, he’s way too young to care or understand what’s happening on the TV,” she tells him, reaching over to stroke Mac’s chubby little arm with her finger.

“Yes, right, because I was obviously watching Teen Titans Go for the sake of our son and not my own personal interest,” Jake chuckles nervously, grabbing the remote and switching to HGTV.

Amy rolls her eyes and laughs at her dork of a husband. She can’t think of anyone in the world more suited to be a father than the strong, selfless, complete goofball of a man she’s so lucky to have married.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in,” she murmurs, her lips moving against his shoulder.

“No problem. You needed it, and it was nice to have some one-on-one time with this little dude,” Jake smiles, gently tugging on Mac’s tiny foot in his light blue onesie. “Right, buddy?”

Mac makes a small noise, pushing away the bottle and looking right at Amy. Almost immediately, his hands start flitting around on Jake’s chest and he starts to cry. She knows it’s not his hungry cry or his dirty diaper cry, so she deduces that he simply wants her to hold him.

“Looks like someone missed mommy,” Jake laughs, carefully passing him over to her. “I don’t blame you, kiddo.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Amy whispers, rocking him back and forth slowly. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

She takes a moment to get him nestled into a comfortable position in her arms, but once she does, he settles down and stops crying instantly. She can feel his breaths begin to even out, and his eyelids begin to droop right on schedule for his typical mid-morning nap - based on his adherence to a regular routine, he’s definitely taking after her already despite the uncanny resemblance to Jake that’s becoming more and more apparent each day.

“We’re not bad at this, are we?”

“I think we’re doing pretty solid so far,” Jake agrees, his arm curling around her body and gently guiding her to lay back against his chest.

Amy sinks into him, her cheek pressed to his warm skin. His arms encircle her, with one hand securely holding Mac in place on top of her.

There are elements of her childhood that she would never inflict upon her own children, and there were certainly times that her parents let the spirit of competition in their household fester to the point of causing major inferiority complexes; and yet, her mother was undeniably right about the value of time spent with family.

The family she’s managed to create for herself - the perfect child that she wanted for so long and she loves more than anything on this earth, the dream husband who doesn’t care about binders or grammar or literature but has made her laugh every day since she’s known him - this is the most important thing in the world.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat? Or I can run out and grab something?” Jake offers, keeping his voice at a low volume and pressing kisses to her hair between sentences.

She could eat, but she’s far too warm and content in her husband’s arms with their baby happily snoozing on top of them to consider disrupting this quite yet.

“Maybe in a little while.” She smiles up at him and pecks his jaw. “This is perfect.”

He sighs in agreement, arms ever so slightly tightening around her. It’s not a deliberate gesture, but the way he holds her and Mac floods her entire body with feelings of peace and safety - she knows he would never let anything happen to them.

They spend the better part of the morning just like this, all three of them happily watching the sun creep in through the curtains, listening to the faint sound of traffic merge with the home renovation shows playing on the television.

(Peralta family Saturday mornings will eventually become a well-oiled weekly routine, complete with Jake’s waffles and music and laughter, but Amy will always fondly remember the first one they shared with their little boy.)

#it's a fluff fest y'all 💞💞💞 #i've only had mac peralta for four (4) days but i love him so much ok #jake x amy #b99 fic