#i was gonna post this tomorrow but i figured i'd give myself a little serotonin boost and finish it tonight instead :)

[tickle-bugs]

Hello!

So I had a prompt for b99, I was thinking with Jake and Amy and Amy notices that Jake’s all jumpy and smiley and she Knows. Maybe with a dialogue bit of like “come on, we have a common goal here!!” or “don’t even try to fight me right now.” sry if ur prompts are already closed. tyy

This prompt made me melt fr I adore them ;w; this is so fucking CUTE. It put me in a rly intense ler mood but that's ok we make sacrifices for peraltiago <3

Proof in Patterns

Amy likes to think that she’s always known Jake well. From the minute she set foot in the precinct, she had had him at least 60% figured out. Though Captain Holt likes to call Jake predictable as a method of chiding him, he isn’t far from the truth--he’s not hard to understand, if you take the time to learn him. 

It’s sort of an open secret that Jake likes to roughhouse. He’s over the moon any time Terry decides to toss him around like a sack of potatoes--unless it's out of rage, which then the entire precinct begins to make funeral arrangements. Whether Jake realizes it or not, and Amy’s almost certain that he does, his mischief more than often gets him hoisted, chased, or launched by his friends. 

Only a smaller group of people--two, to be exact--know about the secret nestled within that one. Herself and Gina, the latter of which is a given, since she’s known Jake since they were little. 

“Jake!” Rosa’s tone could slice glass. Amy looks up from her computer, and—ah. Seems Rosa’s glare could slice glass too. Which means whatever happened is undoubtedly Jake’s fault. 

“Rosa!” Jake parrots gleefully. Rosa forcefully spins his chair to face her.

“Where is it?” 

“Where is what?” He crosses his arms, smug. She narrows her eyes. 

“Give it back or I’ll make you,” Rosa hisses, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie. Amy catches the way Jake’s eyes light up before he tries to play it cool. Cute. 

“Gonna have to be more specific, Diaz. I don’t have your stuff.” Jake shrugs. 

Rosa grins.

“Oh god, why are you smiling?” He whispers, leaning away. 

“Last chance, Jake.” Rosa raises her eyebrow expectantly. He swallows nervously. 

“I don’t have—“

Rosa tickles his stomach with a vengeance. Every time he tries to grab her hands, she jumps somewhere else. Jake slides down in his chair, giggling faster than his lungs can keep up with. She pins him in that awkward slump with just her tickling hands and an evil smile. 

“Top drawer! Rosa!” He yelps, hysterical, and curls away from her. Still tickling with one hand, she opens the top drawer and pulls out a brand new chocolate bar. 

Rosa doesn’t even tell him off, she just pockets the chocolate bar and saunters over to her desk to enjoy it. Jake quietly puts his head down on his desk, hiding his face in his arms. His ears flush a deep red. 

Alright, apparently three people know. Interesting. 

“You doing alright over there?” Amy laughs softly. Jake mumbles something and gives a weak thumbs up. 

“Jake, Holt wants you.” Gina announces herself by tazing Jake’s sides—with her fingers, thankfully. Still, he yelps and swats at her hands. 

“Couldn’t resist. Not sorry.” Gina saunters away. Jake buries his face in his hands yet again. Amy pats his shoulder. 

“Peralta!” Holt’s voice carries easily through the bullpen. 

“Coming!” Jake’s voice cracks. Amy muffles her snickers into her hand. 

…

Evenings are companionably quiet in their household--Jake’s murmuring reactions to the TV are white noise to Amy now. The combined softness of their pajamas defines contentment. 

Jake’s head rests in her lap. Amy’s arm rests across his waist. She traces her fingers idly over his t-shirt as she reads, occasionally fiddling with the hem. Every time her fingers brush over bare skin, he shivers and scoots a bit closer. 

“Hey--” She pokes his chest to get his attention. He jumps and rolls over quickly. She slowly bookmarks her page and sets the book aside. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jake chuckles.

“I think you know,” Amy whispers with a mock-graveness. His eyes widen comically. He starts scooting down the couch but she drags him back towards her. 

“Ames. Amy.” He tries to grab her hands but she swats them away.

“Don’t even try to fight me right now.” She swivels so she can sit on his waist. Even as she poses a threat to him, his hands comfortably find her hips. His smile is near-blinding. 

“I feel like you’ve been waiting for this all day,” Amy laughs. Jake lets out a hilarious groany-whine, something gutturally flustered, and she laughs harder. 

“You know I love you, right?”

“Debatable,” He grumbles. She pinches his side and he yelps.

“Okay! Y-Yes, I do.” 

“And you know I think this is cute, right?” Amy drawls. Jake turns a pretty pink and refuses to meet her eye. He normally basks in flattery--his ego is usually a problem, even when endearing--but something about this context makes him shy. It’s adorable to watch.

“Would you just do it already?” Jake’s voice pitches high with embarrassment. Something devious in Amy wants to make him ask properly, but she saves it for another night. 

“You should be nicer to me, Jake--” she leans down and kisses his neck-- “considering we share a common goal.”

His face is so hot that she can feel his blush. She squishes his cheeks to cope with how cute he is. 

“You are so mean to me,” he mumbles through her hands. 

“No, babe, I’m about to be mean to you.” Amy grabs a delicate handful of his sides and he goes boneless on the couch. As her fingers crawl higher, he curls more, squirming fervently. When she gets to his ribs, he nearly throws them both off the couch. 

One of Jake’s most endearing qualities is how much he wiggles. 

“Stay still!” Amy laughs and shifts to pin him better.

“I can’t help it!” Jake squeaks. She spiders her fingers at random over his torso, dodging his every attempt to protect himself. It’s not hard—Jake’s a man of patterns and Amy loves to analyze. 

He slams his head back into the couch and clamps his arms uselessly to his sides. She tickles rapidly, incessantly at his stomach until he just has to reach for her hands. Once he does, she smirks and shoves her hands under his arms. He makes it so easy. 

“Shit, fuck, Amy!” His voice jumps when she vibrates her fingers under his arms. He tries to clamp his arms down harder but it doesn’t help matters much. 

“You keep saying my name like it’s going to stop me. You know your safe word.” Amy presses her thumbs in again. “Can I have my hands back?”

Jake narrows his eyes at her. 

“No.”

“Are you sure?” She wiggles her fingers. He lets go with a cackle. She gives him a chance to breathe. He looks up at her with a dopey grin. 

“Amy, Amy, Ames, hold on—“ He works himself into a giggle fit so fierce he snorts— “we can talk about this.”

“I’m not even touching you!” She snickers. 

“Title of your sex tape—“

Amy vibrates her fingers into Jake’s stomach and he lets out a very satisfying scream-laugh. She chases it, tickling along his waist and back up his sides. He manages to buck his upper half off the couch and kicks his legs like his life depends on it. All this does is ruck up his shirt. 

“I still think we can talk about this.” He holds his hands up between them with a giddy smile. 

God, she loves him so much. 

She shoves her hands into the pockets of his Die Hard sweatpants and tickles his hips ruthlessly. Having slipped off the couch proves to quickly be his downfall—there’s nothing he can do but laugh himself into silence. 

“Ah, okay, okahahay! Gruber!” Jake wheezes, grabbing for Amy’s hands. She immediately helps him up and kisses his forehead. He pulls her back down for a proper kiss. 

“Still think Nakatomi should be the safe word.” He huffs, little chuckles floating free. 

“Yeah? When you manage to say Nakatomi through laughing, we’ll talk.” Amy tweaks his nose. He reaches up to do the same to her, she tickles under his arms briefly, and his laughter once again lights the quiet corners of their apartment.