#jake peraltaxreader

You woke up on Sunday morning warm, comfortable, and wrapped up in Jake’s arms. The smell of his cologne still clinging to his skin. It was the best way to wake up. Next to your boyfriend, knowing you didn’t have to do anything that day, that you could wake up late and wear pajamas all day.

“Jake, you awake? Babe?” You push yourself up on your elbows and look over at him, his eyes are closed, but his smile is definitely too wide to be the smile of someone fast asleep.

You poke him in the shoulder, “Don’t wanna get up.” He grumbles at you, but opens his eyes anyway. He’s smiling too despite his ‘refusal’ to wake up. 

“So don’t. I’ll go make some breakfast and we can watch TV in here.” You thanked your forethought on days like this, it was a good idea to put a TV in your bedroom, you spent more time curled up in bed watching films then you did in the living room anyway. Much more comfortable and with your busy work schedules, you were both too tired to watch them anywhere but bed. 

“Die Hard? Pancakes?”

“Mmmhhmmm.” You smile down at him and his massive grin. As silly was it was he loved Die Hard so much, it made you smile. Even if it wasn’t your favourite movie. 

“God, you’re the best girlfriend ever!”

“Jake!” He rolls over on top of you, his lips begin assaulting your face, pressing kisses to your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, anywhere in reach. “Jake, I have to go make pancakes!” He grumbles at that but lets you go rolling back to nestle against his pillows. 

You make pancakes the way you always do. Chocolate chips in the batter, gooey chocolate and tasty sponginess. Some people say sweet foods aren’t for breakfast, you and Jake disagree. The only way to do a proper breakfast is for it to be sweet, who said breakfast couldn’t be like dessert?

“These are great, I love you.”

“Jack Peralta I can still watch a building, pregnant or not!” 

“I’m just worried, you’re 6 months pregnant and I...I don’t want either of you to get hurt. You know I think you’re badass but...” You take your husband’s hands in your own, rubbing your thumbs over the backs of his hands. You understand that he worries, of course you do, naturally being a police officer and pregnant wasn’t the most compatible of arrangements. But you weren’t taking any risks neither was Captain Holt, you were being put mostly on desk work and stakeouts, under the supervision of Terry who would never let you do anything dangerous even if you wanted to. The man was more worried about you than you were. 

“I know you’re not trying to stifle me...but Jake, I can sit in a car and watch a building...it’s only a stakeout. I’m not going to go charging in and arresting anyone...I promise i’m not taking any risky jobs. I don’t want to get hurt either, not until after I give birth.” Once you had the baby you’d go back to being reckless but until then you were being as safe as you could be without being forced into post-birth leave. You loved your job but you weren’t stupid, you knew you weren’t quite as hardy as you would be if you weren’t pregnant. 

“I just worry.” You pull him into a hug, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. Your belly had started to get in the way when it came to hugs and other things now that you were so far along, but you made it work to the best of your ability. 

“I know...and I love that you worry, but i’ll be with Terry who would carry me kicking and screaming out of a sticky situation if need be.”

“Why are you always right?”

“Because i’m awesome, babe.”

“Yeah, how did I manage to convince you to marry me again?” He laughed at his own self-deprecating joke and you tap him on the end of his nose. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Jake! Why would you do that?! You nearly got shot! I nearly got shot!” You shrugged off your bullet proof vest, shoving the raid gear in the right places. You were angry. Angry because you’d been scared and worried and Jake didn’t seem to understand at all.

“I was doing my job!”

“Charging head first into a drug den is not your job! Being cautious, arresting people, not getting shot is your job!” You turn on him, pointing. He doesn’t understand, how could he understand? The sheer fear at the thought that he might have been hit, might have died was...you don’t even want to think about it. 

“It’s not like I died!” 

“But you could have!” You stop, breathe deep. You close your eyes for a moment before looking at him, you don’t want to yell anymore. “Jake...I don’t want you to get hurt...” 

“It’s part of our job...we..”

“Jake, I care about you. Romantic stylez. I don’t want to see you get shot. I know it’s part of the job but...” You watch his face change; shock, realisation, understanding, seriousness. He takes a few steps closer to you, hands grabbing yours, holding them in his own.

“I like you. Romantic stylez too...I can’t guarantee i’ll never get hurt, but...i’ll try to be more careful.” You know he likes you, you’ve both known for ages, never said anything, but know. It’s not a confession that shocks either of you, simply confirms his dedication to doing better, to trying to be safer. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Noice.” You joke, imitating his usual ridiculous language to lighten the air. Nothing like Jake Peralta to make you go from completely serious to silly in mere seconds. 

You groan as you walk through the door, kicking off your shoes and throwing your things off to the side. Jake follows behind you quickly collapsing onto the sofa face first. 

It had been a long day. A really long day.

There’s been all sorts going on at the precinct and everything smelt like feet because of Hitchcock and Scully and it just..it was one of the those days where you were constantly displeased, constantly not okay and to finally come home, kick off your shoes and relax was a blessing. 

“You want a back rub, babe?” You grab a drink from the kitchen, calling out to Jake who was still practically dead on the sofa. He always got the worst back ache after long days, usually because he did some sort of stupid stunt or because all the running and grabbing people gave him muscle cramp. You were naturally the ever doting partner who tried to help.

A groan that sounded like a yes left him and you placed your drink on the coffee table before reaching out for him. 

“Up.” He reluctantly sat up long enough for you to get rid of his work shirt (which really was just a button up over the t-shirts that he’d wear off duty) before he plopped back down face first. You figured he might just end up sleeping there that night if he was that tired. 

You straddled his hips, sat back and ran your hands over his back. He was tense and it was obviously uncomfortable, you hated that he got this sort of muscle pain so often but it was part of the job. You tended to get it in your legs, calf cramp was a fucking pain. 

You felt about for the worst knots of muscle, pushing and massaging the areas. You knew from experience that the brief pain at someone pressing against those spots was worth the relief at the end and you knew that Jake, wimpy as he sometimes could be, agreed.

It took a good while for you to work the knots from his back and neck, until he was no longer lying there because of pain and exhaustion, but rather from the relaxation of having that pain removed. 

He tried to speak into the sofa and it simply came out as a weird sort of mumble, “what was that?” You move yourself off him and reach for the television remote. 

He leant up slightly, enough to turn and look at you, “Thank you.”

Bad days happen for everyone this is something that everyone knows and everyone is aware of. No one doubts for a second that everyone had those days where they just wanted to cry into someone else’s shoulder. Bad days were a part of life, not a very fun part, but a part nonetheless.

Today had been one of those days for you. Work had been exhausting and people just seemed to say and do things that hurt or upset you, that were aimed at you or at your work. You hadn’t even woken up in a good mood, even with Jake beside you. Even he’d tampered down his cheery attitude knowing that you wouldn’t appreciated it.

All you wanted as you trailed into your apartment was to curl up under your covers and forget that the day had even happened. To just be able to be blissfully ignorant of everything around you for a few moments.

“Hey, how was your day?” You knew that in truth Jake wasn’t asking how your day really was, he was asking how you were feeling, if you still felt like you did that morning, if it was worse etc. He obviously hadn’t gotten into the apartment long ago, he was barely out of his ‘work’ clothes (not that they were very different from his normal clothes) and his bag was still on the sofa with whatever work he’d brought home that day.

You didn’t say a work knowing that you would probably just grunt at him and instead walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Your forehead pressed against his chest and you let the world and the whole day just fall away, instead focusing on the warmth of your boyfriend and the arms anchoring you to him. It was the nice content that fell over you at the simple content, the ability to ignore all the bullshit.

“Still not good, huh?”

You shook your head, still pressed against him. Talking just seemed too much. Too much effort. Too hard.

“Wanna watch the Little Mermaid?”

“Yes..”

“Okay, sit down, i’ll get the blankets and you just relax” Jake pulled away from you, manoeuvring you until you were sat on the sofa, before rushing off. You felt the upset start to slip away each second. Thank every deity for Jake Peralta.

You quickly found yourself wrapped in your favourite blanket, the Little Mermaid playing on the TV. Your head resting in Jake’s lap as fingers worked through your hair and over your scalp, and down your neck, massaging the tension away.

Dating Jake Peralta naturally required patience. He was a kid inside a man’s body; he thought eating gummy worms for breakfast was a balanced diet, his finances were atrocious, everything was a joke and adult things were scary. You understood that it was just Jake being himself, being jovial, and most of the time these things made you happy. The pranks made you happy. The jokes made you happy. Sometimes even eating gummy worms for breakfast made you happy. But it also scared you.

When you found out you were pregnant (not that long ago mind you) you freaked out...not because Jake couldn’t be a good dad or because you hadn’t planned it, but because you couldn’t imagine Jake Peralta wanting to raise a child with you and that terrified you. You were so scared that he’d walk away because of this. So you didn’t tell him. You waited. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to walk into the precinct and find that something was amiss, that Jake had done something. Usually some sort of stupid prank that cost him more than it was worth financially. Something you’d been trying to curb, but every now and then he just had to pull a big prank. 

“What the fuck!” It would have been fine if you hadn’t walked into the break room where a fucking tiger sat. Not a baby one. Not a cute thing. But a massive fucking tiger. 

If Terry hadn’t gotten over his own shock and dragged you out of the door way and slammed the door you might very well have been crushed underneath a tiger. 

“JAKE!” You know it’s his doing and for once in your life you’re actually angry at one of his pranks. They’re usually harmless, fun, if expensive. This was both dangerous, expensive, and you nearly got hurt. 

“Hi...babe?” He looks confused at why you’re so angry. You’ve never been angry at him. Normally that look on his face would make you smile, today it just made you angry.

“What the fuck is a tiger doing in the break room! What the fuck Jake I could have gotten hurt, for fuck sake the baby could have gotten hurt, you fucking asshole! I can’t believe this! How much did it cost? Because honestly you can’t afford a goddamn tiger for a prank Jake!” You’re livid. You could have gotten hurt, the ball of cells (that to be honest isn’t quite a baby yet) in your stomach could have gotten hurt, Terry could have gotten hurt, his bank account definitely got hurt. 

You know you’re freaking out more than a little and you know everyone is watching you freak out. 

“You’re pregnant...” You didn’t mean to say it, but being angry caused it to slip out, the worry caused it to slip out and now Jake was staring at you so sombre. “I...I didn’t...”

“Jake...let’s not talk about this here...” You realise that everyone is watching this confession unfold and it’s not really a work appropriate conversation, but he doesn’t look like his going to move. 

“I didn’t know...I didn’t...God, i’m so sorry...babe, believe me if I knew!” He’s practically on his knees in front of you and he looks so distraught, you don’t understand why he looks so concerned. But you believe him. You believe that he doesn’t want you to get hurt or the baby that you intend to have. He would never want that. 

“Jake, it’s okay, babe...it’s okay.” You kneel next to him, wrap your arms around him because he’s so concerned and the anger slips away. He just thought it was going to be a harmless prank, it wasn’t...but he didn’t have any intention of you or anyone else getting hurt. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s mumbled into your shoulder and you understand. 

“I know, Jake. I know.”

“We’re having a baby...for realz though?” He pulls back to look at you and you know nothing looks different. It’s too early for anything about you to look different. This isn’t how you planned on telling him, and the small smile starting to appear wasn’t how you expected him to react.