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amydancepants-peralta · 5 years

Note

Hi! Not sure if you’re taking prompts atm but if you are: a canon divergent where jake and Amy don’t end up having sex on their first date, and they have sex for the first time few months into their relationship instead

Hey there, Anon!

This took a little longer than expected (life is vv crazy at the mo!) but I totally loved your idea, and this is the result … I hope this lives up to your idea! 🤞🏼🙈

*NSFW* (Also on AO3, coz it’s kinda long.) Special thanks to @amyscascadingtabs and @kamekamelea for your help on this one! 🙌🏼😊

rule number three

“Let’s not have sex right away.”

There have been only a few times in Jake Peralta’s life that he’s experienced total euphoria. One: walking out the cinema he’d snuck into a couple of hours earlier, the Die Hard credits still leaking out from the half closed theatre doors. Two: standing tall while perfectly dressed in his blues, smiling back at his proud mother who was wiping back tears as he approached the NYPD commissioner and received his shiny new detective’s badge.

Three belonged to tonight. Pressed against his couch cushions with Amy Santiago on his lap; her perfect, perfect lips pushing against his own.

For the longest time, a moment like this had seemed so far from Jake’s grasp that even now he was struggling to believe tonight was not merely a figment of his imagination. Amy was easily one of the best people he knew - if not the best - and so strikingly beautiful he’s a little amazed that it took him so long to realise how he felt about her.

But after undercover-bound revelations and forced time apart; take backs, admissions and exes on both ends, two impromptu kisses and one moment of tenderness in a room filled with evidence, the two of them had finally acknowledged that maybe what they had together was more than just an excellent partnership.

Tonight had started awkwardly, but turned out to be really fun in a way that only the two of them together can be, but Jake’s favourite moment, hands down, would have to be right now.

“Let’s not have sex right away.”

His hands are on Amy’s thighs, fingers toying with the edge of her red dress as she straddles him. Regulation short and perfectly manicured fingernails are scraping against his scalp, sending a cavalcade of shivers running down his spine, and when she breaks their kiss to start a trail along his jawline, Jake genuinely begins to forget his own name.

This was greater than euphoria. It had to be paradise. In fact, he was certain that if you flipped open a dictionary right now and searched for the definition, it would give an accurate description of tonight, and the feeling of Amy Santiago on his lap.

(Okay so maybe it would be Urban Dictionary, but the sentiment remained. Everything about this moment was perfect, and he wouldn’t change a thing.)

Except for the six little words that are running on a loop inside his brain.

“Let’s not have sex right away.”

Her kisses taste like lime juice - kamikaze remnants that he cannot get enough of. Her tongue, the same sharp tongue that has reprimanded him so many times in the past, is moving against his in perfect unison. Exploring his mouth with gentle sweeps and pushing him further into the cushions in an action that is so seamless it makes his slacks feel uncomfortably tight.

Her body feels incredible like this, moving so sinfully slow and gentle as her hands begin to wander along the outline of his shirt. The subtle grind of her hips as she whispers his name into his ear makes his heart beat wildly against his ribcage, the scent of her perfume invades his senses when her incredibly soft lips leave a gentle kiss against the edge of his jaw. But still, he can hear her voice from this afternoon, and her simple stipulation for rule number three.

“Let’s not have sex right away.”

For what it’s worth, they were doing exceedingly well at the other two rules. Neither of them had said a single thing about what they were doing to their colleagues - which was especially impressive on Jake’s end, given the overwhelming urge to scream out in joy whenever he remembered that he and Amy had finally kissed. FOR REALZ. And they definitely hadn’t put labels on anything, dodging the server’s curious gaze when she told them they made a really sweet couple. And really - when you think about it, when it comes to rules, two out of three really isn’t all that bad. (After all, Meatloaf made a song about it; and songs don’t lie, and that’s facts.)

But this particular rule had come from Amy, a firm believer that rules weren’t made to be broken. And even though Jake doesn’t want any part of this to end, there’s something he needs to check on first. His hands move from Amy’s thighs, taking their time sliding up along her ribcage before heading towards her arms because he can do that now, and before he can fully comprehend what he’s about to say, Jake clears his throat and pulls his mouth away from Amy’s.

The words still come out mumbled, his lungs a little breathless because the most beautiful woman he’s ever known is still straddling his waist, but he speaks anyway. “The rules.”

Her eyebrows lift, the surprise that of the two people in the room, it is Jake Peralta who is pointing out the rules obvious as she smiles down at him. It turns wry as she shrugs her shoulders slightly, the fingertips of the hand on his chest pushing downwards with the movement. It’s such a simple response, but he finds it so sexy, and his hands are tugging her back down towards him without hesitation; the sensation of her lips against his already taking first place in the Greatest Feeling Ever award shelf in his mind.

She moans into his mouth, a sound that he already knows he would willingly die to hear more of (okay maybe not die, because if he dies then he can’t do more of this, and he really, REALLY wants more of this), and his hands move back down over her body, fingers gliding over the fabric of her dress, resisting the urge to pull on the zipper as he passes the jagged teeth. She moans softly when she pulls away, her desire obvious as her hips grind against his just that little bit harder, breath hot on his cheek as her kisses make a trail towards his earlobe.

They both want this. They’ve been leading towards this moment all night. There were eight empty shot glasses and three empty plates (they shared dessert) at the restaurant that told them they both wanted this. There had been a definitely non-G rated cab ride back to Jake’s apartment, countless minutes pressed against front doors before keys were properly utilised, lipstick stains on collars and shoes thrown in the direction of doorways bringing them to this.

Amy whispers his name again, louder this time as her teeth scrape against that spot at the side of his neck, and lawd how he wants this, but maybe they needed to stop. Because try as he might, all he can think about is: this is how every new relationship of his has ever begun.

The story of Jake’s childhood, and the lack of stability he had grown up with, was a tale as old as time. He knew that Amy knew the most of it - probably more than others, if he really thought about it. And she had watched, over the years, as he had jumped in and out of relationships with the fervour of somebody who genuinely didn’t know better. He was, after all, Jake Peralta - eyes closed, head first, can’t lose.

He loved the thrill of it all - the rush of clicking with a stranger, of testing the waters until the spark ignited. Though he might deny it, his heart lived permanently on his sleeve, and it was always on offer - forever hoping that this one might be the right one. But they never stayed, because all that glitters is rarely gold, and somewhere along the line Jake had adjusted his expectations to the minimum. To quick and fleeting relationships that never lasted, but were always fun.

But even now, as his hands roam along Amy’s body and his lips travel up and down her neck, Jake knows that there’s no way he could ever be able to give this up. What they had was different, and so very valuable to him. She was his partner, his closest friend, and the only voice of reason he was willing to hear at any given moment. The thought that he could lose all of that with one wrong move terrified him, and even though he knew he was probably going to regret it in the morning, Jake still lifts his lips away from Amy, bringing his hands back to her shoulders and pushing gently.

“Jake?”

God, she was beautiful. Straddling his waist, dress rucked up dangerously high, lungs fighting to regain control as she looks down at him in confusion. Her voice is breathy as she speaks, and he’s thankful to notice that he’s not the only one struggling to get their heart rate back from overdrive. “Is everything okay?”

His hands move up and down her arms in comfort, resisting the urge to return to their previously favourable position on her bare upper leg, and he smiles before answering. “Everything’s amazing, Amy. I just think that … maybe that third rule of yours wasn’t such a bad idea.”

The hands that had been skirting the buttons of his shirt pause in place, and Amy rears back slightly. “You don’t want this?”

“Trust me, I want this. I’m pretty sure every time you move your hips, you can feel how much I want this.”

She lets out a tiny giggle, shifting her weight just so, and Jake sucks in his breath in response. Yeah, he definitely wants this. Her face grows serious, left hand reaching up to cup his cheek as she leans back down towards him. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Jake.”

Jake hesitates, gnawing on his lower lip for a moment. He’s never been great with emotions, and is suddenly very aware of the fact that he could blurt out the wrong thing and ruin it all. But right now, with just the two of them together in his apartment, the words didn’t seem to be as difficult as he would normally expect. “It’s just … I don’t have the best track record when it comes to this. And while I’m pretty sure that what we have is different, I’m also a little scared that if we move too quickly it might all come crashing down.” He moves one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, stroking the edge of her cheek as he goes. “I don’t want to lose this, Amy. You mean too much to me.”

“You want to wait a little?”

“I think we owe it to ourselves to see where this is going before we dive too deep.”

Amy’s ribs expand and contract as she begins to control her breathing, her right hand still toying absentmindedly with a button on Jake’s shirt. She’s watching him with those careful eyes of hers, and if Jake listened hard enough he’s certain he would be able to hear the cogs of her mind turning. Slowly, a smile creeps onto her face, and she nods. “You’re right.”

Try as he might, Jake cannot help himself, and he feigns a quick search for his mobile phone - patting nearby cushions and lifting throw pillows while explaining, “Hold on a second, Amy Santiago just said I’m right. I’ve gotta record this.”

Her laughter echoes across his tiny apartment, and it’s the greatest thing Jake’s ever heard between these four walls, so when she leans in for another soft kiss he’s quick to deepen it, sighing against her lips as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. Holding her closer now that the fear of her slipping through his fingers has been lost for at least one night.

She’s still smiling when they pull apart, resting her forehead against his while she takes a deep breath. “I mean, I know that I made the rule and I probably should have stuck to it, but there was something about being out with you tonight, sharing drinks; and you looking like you do, and knowing that I can finally do this - ” she punctuates the sentence with a kiss, lingering against his lips for a moment before pulling away, “that just made everything else seem a little more hazy.” One hand moves to the back of his neck, toying with his freshly cut hair, and her smile turns shy. “You’re important to me too, Jake. This is important to me.”

And just like that, Jake knows that he is absolutely going to fall for Amy Santiago.

She stays over that night, because neither of them are ready for the night to be over just yet, and when she comes out of the bathroom wearing an (on her) oversized NYPD sweatshirt of his, Jake wonders if he’s ever going to be able to go to sleep. But the next morning, when he wakes up with a mess of wavy brown hair spilling over onto his pillow and the sweetest smile wishing him good morning, he knows that he’d wait forever for a lifetime of mornings just like this.

After that first night, Jake realised that the adrenalin-coursing-through-your-veins feeling of a quick start relationship was nothing compared to the kind of slow burn that sizzled between he and Amy now. Because now, there was the aspect of discovery.

They both learned, for example, the importance of not making out in secret locations at work. Because doing so will only startle new bosses born with heart conditions, and will almost certainly lead to a fatal heart attack. Hiding their new relationship from a room full of detectives had proved next to impossible - especially if said relationship leads to the demise of a superior - but once the mortification of revelations had passed, they were pleasantly surprised by how little most seemed to care about what happened outside of work. Charles excluded.

(Also - and purely for research purposes - they learned that if they were to sneak away for secret kisses in evidence lockers, ducking behind that next corner of shelving always bought them a little bit of extra time for recovery.)

Jake learned that he actually wanted to put labels on what they were and not just keep things vague, the word girlfriend slipping out one afternoon so smoothly it would have seemed natural, if it hadn’t been followed by a beet red face and the slapping of his hand against his mouth. The soft smile that stretched across Amy’s features as she sat across from him at her desk made it all seem a little less terrifying. Without a second thought, they were no longer mrrrmzeep or benjinglebin.

She never seemed to be far from his thoughts, and each work day served as a countdown to when he could kiss Amy again, and Jake had never felt more content.

Without actually speaking about it, Jake and Amy both decide that their second date probably needs to be somewhere relatively public (and, just to be safe, with minimal alcohol content).

Amy’s smile is secretive as she ushers Jake through the streets of Brooklyn, and he’s itching to hold her hand in his but he’s not sure if that’s something she likes, so he follows her faithfully until they reach her destination of choice. He recognises it fairly quickly as McCarren Park, although the giant screen stretched out at the bottom of the hill was definitely a new addition, and when his curious eyes meet Amy she smiles, stretching out her hand to lead him to the top of the hill.

It was a moonlight cinema, she explained, reaching into the large tote bag that Jake had carried from the car, pulling out a blanket and spreading it out onto the grass. They were early, because he was here with Amy after all, but it turns out being early has its advantages as they now lay claim to prime position, up high amongst the tree line with a perfect view of the screen below.

From the bag Amy pulls out orange soda, followed by reusable cups, littering the rest of the blanket with crackers and gummy worms and water (the latter of which Jake assumes is for her), glancing quickly in Jake’s direction as she pulls out a small bag of nuts and hands them directly to him. He raises his eyebrows settling down onto the blanket, smiling brightly when Amy sits down close to him, and she points at the bag and says “Why don’t you go ahead and throw me one of those nuts, Peralta?”

The memory of Amy’s disastrous attempts at catching food with her mouth on the rooftop has never really faded from Jake’s memory (that entire night often plays on repeat), and he casts a dubious look in her direction. She raises her chin in confidence, giving him the do you doubt me? stare-down that he loves to see, and with a quick shrug of his shoulders Jake rips open the bag, holding the nut up high to make sure she sees it before throwing softly in her direction.

And she catches it. So cleanly - so quick and seamless he almost misses it. But her triumphant grin as she chews proves her victory, and he narrows his eyes. “Lucky shot.”

Amy swallows, raising a single eyebrow and responding cooly, “Throw another one, then.”

He does, and she catches it again. And another, and another, before finally Jake has to admit that Amy has finally mastered the art of catching food with her mouth. There’s not a doubt in his mind that his impressed reaction is written cleanly across his face, and when Amy finally admits that she’s been practising for months, he can’t help but close the small distance between them and kiss her, soft and gentle and completely full of awe. His finger rests underneath her chin, tipping her face ever so slightly upward to meet his, and she sighs softly against his lips.

She’s blushing when he pulls away, the softest and most adorable shade of pink creeping onto her cheeks as she tucks her hair behind both ears and Jake cannot help but pull her in for another kiss. This one lasts longer, each wrapping an arm around the other as it deepens, and in all honesty Jake could have spent the entire night doing just this and he’d be happy.

But they don’t, because they are most definitely in public, and as the melting sun casts the sky in a shade of tangerine and more people begin to settle onto the grass around them, Amy and Jake work their way through the snacks, peppering the comfortable silence with easy conversation.

The night comes earlier in the cooler months, and as the stars fight through the smog of a busy city skyline Amy stretches out on the blanket, resting her head against Jake’s stomach, smiling up at him when he begins to run his fingers through her hair. After a beat she stretches an arm up, pointing out the structure of a constellation in the sky that, despite the high-rises surrounding them, still managed to shine bright enough for him to notice. With his neck craned towards the universe Jake listens in silent wonderment as Amy begins to tell him about the mythological legends that explained their existence, pulling off the hoodie under his jacket and draping over Amy’s middle as a chill begins to fill the air. At the base of the hill the movie screen flashes with ads and previews, but neither of them notice.

She shifts when the movie starts, stretching out her legs next to his, and it’s only a short while before her head is resting against Jake’s shoulder. An even shorter while, it turns out, before the two of them are making out, any movie turning boring when they realise there’s an option to take advantage of the coverage from the trees surrounding them.

It was so new - and incredibly invigorating - to be able to kiss Amy like this, to hold her soft frame inside his arms as their legs tangle together, alternating between kisses both sweet and borderline passionate. It’s only when a loud crescendo booms from the direction of the makeshift movie screen that either of them break away, and after a beat Amy wriggles on the picnic rug until her back is resting against Jake’s chest. Their fingers tangle together where their hands meet at her waist, and in the intimacy of it all this moment right here is all he’s ever hoped for.

Every time he opened up a little more to someone he was dating, part of Jake felt like he was giving them a complete list of instructions on How To Break His Heart. And he could write it all on a proverbial piece of paper, and mark it as handle with care, but he could never control what happened once they knew (he’d started to show parts of this list to Sophia once, and she’d inspected it briefly before handing it back to him with a vague but polite smile).

But as the movie came to an end and he linked his fingers with Amy, walking back towards his car, Jake realised that all of the details he would normally have on the list - all the things that have hurt him and shaped him as he’s gotten older - are things that Amy already knew. And she never used it as a reason to walk away, or to keep her distance. She knew more than most about him, and wanted to be with him anyway.

He presses her against the car when he kisses her goodnight outside her apartment, both of their hands wandering over each other’s bodies with a curiosity emboldened by the growing tension between them. He wants to go upstairs - to be with her and stay the night, more than he’s ever wanted to be with someone before. But they needed time - he needed to know this isn’t going to wither before it has the chance grow, and it’s time that he is beginning to hope they will have a lifetime of.

He keeps the radio low on the drive home, trying his best not to notice how every single love song seemed to tie back to Amy.

At work, it was like they’d both become characters out of some Georgian-era novel.

(Which, okay, doesn’t sound like something that Jake would say, but he totally thought of it all on his own.)

(Alright, he’d called them a Jenny Austen novel. Amy had corrected him on the name, and then told him the era, rattling off a few different titles for reference, because she’s so smart and oh god he really really likes her, SO. MUCH.)

And maybe it was a strange label, but it was true. They’d become all about long glances, gazes holding from the side of computer monitors as they both fail terribly to look like they were doing any work at all. The subtle brushing of feet under tables, lingering touches when they were left alone. Hovering at the coffee station as one would make their coffees, leaning just that little bit closer but never quite close enough. Quiet whispers of admiration when favourite items of clothing were worn, furtive glances through windows when they weren’t in the same room … fingers hooking around ties when the gentle hands of Detective Santiago pulls her partner in for a kiss once they are finally off the clock.

To everybody else, they came across as just another pair of colleagues who had started dating, doing their very best to maintain a professional appearance in the workplace. But to Jake and Amy, every moment was bringing another pile of sand to the beach - another friction filled strike of the match, calling out for the flame of desire to finally be ignited.

Amy takes a long sip from her soda, her lips curling around the paper straw as she watches her boyfriend dominate Dance Dance Revolution one last time. She can’t help the small shiver of excitement that runs down her spine as she repeats to herself once again that Jake Peralta is her boyfriend.

His feet stomp against the coloured arrows in perfect symmetry to the flashing lights, eyes focused solely on the screen in front of him as the digital music reaches its fast paced climax. The teenager beside him, who had been so cocky in challenging Jake to a showdown five minutes earlier, stumbles over their own two feet and stomps away in frustration before the game has even officially finished.

Thrusting his fists into the air triumphantly, Jake turns to face Amy with the widest grin on his face, one that Amy cannot help but match, and this is truly the happiest she’s ever been. While she knows that there was a whole bunch of reasons why she and Jake hadn’t gotten together before now (fear and doubt being two very big ones), it’s in moments like these that she wishes the world had pushed them together earlier.

Dating Jake has been so fun - so exciting and different and comfortable all at the same time. He made her laugh so much her sides hurt, and he always, always wanted to hear about her day. The way he looks out for her (and supports her admittedly nerdy hobbies) is incredible, and she could happily spend the rest of her days showing Jake just how beautiful he was, inside and out. Plus, good lord was he sexy. Perfectly toned, strong arms for her to wrap her hand around while they walked down the street; intoxicating cologne that washed over her when she tucked her face into his neck, and a butt that she could not take her eyes off. Especially tonight, while he danced in those jeans.

It had been so sweet of him to suggest they should take things slow, to give each other the chance to get used to the idea of being together before throwing sex into the mix. And while she totally got all the reasons he had put forward (it was her rule after all), there was also a very large part of Amy that was absolutely ready to fuck Jake Peralta.

(Okay, make love.)

(Then fuck.)

A week ago, Amy had been away at her parents, for a vacation that she’d organised long before the notion of dating Jake was anything more than a quiet hope she held tucked away in her heart. And during that week, the distance between them had felt unbearable - and thank goodness for the existence of texting and FaceTime, because without it Amy’s not certain she would have survived the week.

The separation, however, had lifted their resolve a little, and as the days wore on their texts grew from simple miss you’s to I think about you all the time and I really want to do things to you. Lines that made her blush - not from embarrassment, but excitement that Jake felt the same way she did about him, and that maybe the time for waiting was over.

They’d shared so many conversations and calls via their cellphones that by the time Amy was finally knocking on Jake’s apartment door a week later for their third date, she could literally feel the pull of his energy dragging her through the doorway.

His lips were on hers within seconds of the door slamming shut, kisses turning heated because it had been a week, but the week had felt like a lifetime, and a lifetime without kissing each other was something that neither of them seemed interested in considering.

Her fingers had unbuttoned Jake’s shirt before they’re even made it to the living room, her floral blouse untucked from her skirt as his warm hands wandered up the expanse of her back. It was better than she could have imagined, the electric feeling of his skin against hers, and as he gently pushed her into the couch cushions their first night together came back to Amy in vivid flashbacks. And then his hands moved lower, grazing against the bare skin of her upper thighs, and her skin shivered in its wake.

Like the gentleman that he is, his hand had hovered over the edge of her underwear, waiting until Amy had broken their kiss before touching the fabric again, silently asking for permission to continue. Her consent had come in the form of his name coming out in a breathless burst, hips lifting slightly in encouragement as her own hands gripped his biceps, and when his fingers rubbed against her centre Amy genuinely thought she was going to melt into his couch. She had been wanting this for so long, and it was definitely going to happen tonight.

His lips had slid back over hers as his hand moved her panties to the side, slender fingers seeking out her heat and touching her with such reverence that Amy would have cried if she hadn’t been so damn turned on. Too many times she had watched Jake’s hands from her position at the desk opposite, fantasising about how good he could be at making her come apart at his touch. And now she knew that she’d been right - he was amazing.

Then his kisses forged a path down her body before reaching where she wanted him the most, his breath hot against her folds as his tongue went to work, and soon her eyes were squeezing shut while her nails scraped his scalp and the only words she could say were Jake and yes. Her orgasm was quick, but lingered in waves as her legs shook underneath him, and the taste of her on his tongue was everything.

He was so good at making her feel good, in a way that she’d instinctively known that he would be, and if the garlic bread that he’d been baking in the oven hadn’t chosen that very moment to start billowing smoke and set off the fire alarm, Amy is absolutely certain they would have had sex once she’d caught her breath.

It had very still much been on the cards, in fact, as the stale smell of charred bread filled the apartment and an embarrassed Jake found comfort in her kisses from her new position on his kitchen countertop. And then his phone had started vibrating in his back pocket, a sensation Amy felt against her hands as they roamed over his ass, his impressive bulge rubbing against her thigh. He ignored it for as long as he could, but the caller kept ringing, and eventually Jake had pulled back in anger, answering the phone with a snap before mumbling “Oh, hey Rosa.”

There had been a break in a case that he and Diaz were working, and his presence was being requested (well, being Rosa, more likely demanded). Swiftly, their date was over - and Jake had given her an apologetic kiss as he’d bid her goodbye, the promise of a rain check keeping the flame between them burning hot long after they’d separated.

And now it was just over twenty-four hours later, with date number four starting at a local restaurant before the walk back to her place led to them stumbling upon a new arcade. One look from Jake, throwing the gauntlet by declaring that he could beat her at any game, and Amy was absolutely committed to kicking his butt. And kicked she had, an overwhelmingly large pile of prize tickets stuffed into her purse awaiting redemption. There’s a buzz of victory running through her veins, and her boyfriend’s smile is so contagious as he gathers up his winning tickets and heads towards her, and the memory of the two of them on his couch last night is the only thing on Amy’s mind.

Then he pulls her over to the prize counter, swapping all of his tickets for a book of brain teasers that he gives her with a shy smile, and Amy Santiago is 100% falling for Jake Peralta.

Tonight was the end of date number four, and Jake genuinely believed he was in danger of combusting.

They have been officially dating for four weeks now, and he could honestly say that they have been the best four weeks of his life. With Amy, he felt worthy - of her time, of her attention, and most certainly of her affection. And affection was something she had in spades.

There were so many little things about the two of them being a couple that, when bundled together, made Jake feel complete in a way he’d never known. Dating Amy was like swimming in the rain - like you already knew what it was like to be wet, and then the raindrops hit your skin like a thousand tiny pinpricks and you realise that this whole time you were wrong. That things could be different. And that different could be better.

He could offer her his arm now, as they walked along the sidewalks of Brooklyn after dates. Grip her hand in his own when he helped her up out of her seat and link their fingers together, holding them so close it was hard to tell which were his and which were hers. Go to dinner with her - actual dinner, not just street meat in an unmarked car on the way to a case. Talk to her, about little things and big things and everything in between.

And kiss her. Oh, how he could kiss her. It still made his heart soar up to the very top of his chest, every single time they did. But he could have that feeling forever (and was starting to think that maybe he wanted that feeling forever), if that’s the feeling that came with kissing Amy.

It would seem that all along, this is what he had been craving. And to think that now he got to have it, and that it was with Amy Santiago, put a spring in his step and an obnoxiously happy smile that never seemed to leave his face. Not even when Rosa would punch him on the shoulder, or Gina would threaten the dissolution of their friendship. He was happy. Finally happy - from the tips of his fingers to the edge of his toes - and he wasn’t interested in anything that could take that away from him.

They’d had such fun tonight at the arcade, and had quickly made their way back to Amy’s apartment (or as she called it, ‘taking a victory lap’ - his girlfriend had kicked his ass tonight, and he was totally okay with that). She’d listened, in her non-judgemental way, as Jake told her about a problematic phone call he’d shared with his less than impressive father earlier that day. The advice she offered up was gentle and perfect, just like her, and when she climbed up to the top of a park bench to rest her feet (these sneakers are cute but they pinch my toes she had muttered), Jake couldn’t resist the opportunity to rests his hands on either side of her, gripping the rails as he leant in for a kiss that just kept getting deeper.

It had felt so perfect, with her knees bracketed either side of him and her soft lips pressed against his, that they could have stayed together like that for hours - and probably would have, if another couple hadn’t loudly cleared their throats in Jake and Amy’s direction as they passed, reminding them that they were still in a public place.

And now they stand on the landing of Amy’s apartment, wrapped tight in each other’s arms as their goodnight kiss simply refuses to end.

Their bodies are pressed together, and he knows that she can feel how much her kisses are affecting him, but he just can’t bring himself to pull away. He remembers how she tastes, how it felt to have her fingers scrape against his scalp while she shuddered above him, and he was dying to feel it again. Everything about her was intoxicating, and judging by the way one of her lower legs were wrapped around his, Amy was feeling exactly the same.

“Come upstairs, Peralta” she whispers in that husky voice that he’d never really heard until recently, but always managed to hot-wire his groin. Her eyes are heavy lidded, and her lips are so swollen from the intensity of their kisses, one hand trailing down his chest until it reaches the bulge in his jeans. He nods, pulling her in for another kiss, grabbing her keys out of hand to help speed up the process.

And then her phone rings.

The sound is so grating against the quiet bubble of intimacy that the two of them had made in this corner of her doorway, and they pull apart at the completely unwelcome sound. He wants to tell her to ignore it, to pretend it wasn’t ringing at all, but that wouldn’t be Amy. Still, it’s satisfying to see her head fall back against the rendered brick wall, groaning as her hands dig through her purse.

“That’s my ringtone for the captain.” she mutters apologetically.

Jake blinks. There’s a part of him that’s still trying to understand what happened, let alone what Amy just said, and to be perfectly honest there wasn’t a lot of blood in his brain right now. “You have a specific ringtone for the captain?”

“You don’t?”

He can’t contain the smile that crosses over his face as he shakes his head, stepping back as Amy takes the call. Her hand on his chest tightens as he moves, fingers digging in slightly in a silent request for him to stay, and he covers her hand with his own.

“Captain Pembroke? No, it’s .. I mean - ” her eyes fall to Jake, and she stammers. “Uh, what’s going on?”

The streetlight catches her face as she turns slightly, and Jake can’t help but stare at her beauty, even as she frowns in concentration. Amy nods, murmuring her assent to their superior before looking over at Jake, regret clear in her eyes as she states “I’ll be there soon.” The hand on his chest falls, and he tries his very best not to cry out in frustration.

Looks like it was Amy’s turn to get called away for work.

Slumping against the smooth brick of her building’s exterior, Amy shakes her head. “I know that guy is our captain now, but … he’s just the worst.” Jake nods, and she looks at him with sad eyes. “There’s a catfish case Boyle and I have been working on. This guy has conned seven women out of their savings so far, totalling more than $50,000. The night shift got notice that he’s just used one of his fake IDs to get into some hipster bar in Bedford called ..” she pauses, tapping the screen of her phone to read out the name. “Ugh. Industrialisationism.”

“Industrialisationism? Is that even a word? If it is, it’s gotta be the longest, right?”

Amy dips her head, tucking her phone back into her purse as she speaks. “Actually, the world’s longest word is floccinaucinihilipilification. Well, non-mechanical anyway. If you wanted to talk medicinal - ” her eyes are wide when she looks back at him, as though in fear that this is it, this might be the ultra nerdy thing she does that makes him realise she’s too weird for him to date. His smile is warm, and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from telling her that he’s pretty sure that no such thing could ever happen. That it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that being with her feels more right than anyone he’s ever been with.

But he’s jumped in too soon before, and ended up with a broken heart. So instead he smiles, and tells her “You should probably head upstairs and get changed. Gotta catch the bad guy, right?”

She smiles, taking her keys back from his outstretched hand and gesturing towards the building. “Do you wanna come up?”

“I really do, Ames. But I’ve gotta confess …” he winces, glancing down. “With the state I’m in right now, the thought of you getting changed with only a bedroom door between us? Just might kill me.”

Amy laughs, and he grabs her hand one last time, squeezing her fingers quickly before walking backwards and stumbling onto a lower step. She laughs again, the sound echoing through down the quiet street, and the move wasn’t deliberate but he’ll take it, because any day where he can make Amy Santiago laugh is a great day to him. Make her laugh twice, and it becomes transcendent.

He takes another step down, facing the street because that’s definitely a smarter way to walk down a staircase, then pauses, the soles of his shoes scraping against the concrete as he swivels on the step to bring his eyes back to Amy. She’s waiting, standing on her landing with keys in one hand and his hand still in her other, and he’s barely touching her but his heart is absolutely racing. With a gentle tug she’s pulling him back up the landing to meet her, wrapping her arms around Jake’s waist with such desire that there are now only two things that Jake knows for absolute certain:

The NYPD are there to serve, protect, and cock block him and Amy; and

Tonight’s forecast at home definitely included a cold shower.

Jake grips his towel with one hand as he swipes it across the fogged mirror of the precinct’s shower room, forcing away the condensation and allowing his tired reflection to peek through. Today has been a particularly long day.

A prolific drug dealer known as Chase Mandeville had been on the radar of several neighbouring precincts for months now, all sides working to share information in the hopes of finally capturing him. Mid-morning, Captain Pembroke had announced to the bullpen that a stakeout the 9-7 had been carrying out had been interrupted by Mandeville’s men, and that several officers were now being held hostage in an old warehouse downtown. They’d moved quickly, strapping on tactical gear and arriving at the meeting point within the hour - but hostage situations are rarely quick, and they’d sat in wait through hours of negotiations and multiple plans of attack before ESU finally called them into action.

The intense shoot-out that followed resulted in three officers and five of Mandeville’s henchmen being taken away by the paramedics, all safe but in various degrees of pain. Jake stood watching as the kingpin was dragged away from the scene in handcuffs, unable to resist a smirk of victory that was quickly wiped off his face as a passing truck hit a particularly large pothole and drenched him, head to toe, in a mixture of dirt, day old rain and floating cigarette butts.

Rosa had shoved him in the direction of the men’s locker room when they’d finally returned to the precinct, telling him with her usual gentle manner that he ‘smelled like butt and nobody should have to endure it.’ So not only had Jake not had the chance to pull Amy aside and play the ‘Super Supportive Boyfriend’ role (one that he was clearly born to play), he’d missed out on the team debriefing where they would obviously be hailed as heroes for saving their colleagues.

(Although in hindsight, The Vulture was their captain now. So there was a very good chance that any credit his team deserved had already been stolen.)

Pulling out a spare work shirt from his locker and quickly looping a tie around his neck, Jake shuffles back towards his desk, noticing with surprise that everyone has already left. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes as Pembroke approaches him from his office, Jake listens as his ‘captain’ retells the day’s events, putting himself into the victor’s position; paying attention only when his superior tells him that he is not to return for 12 hours (or, as Pembroke put it - “The bosses don’t want you to show your pasty white ass here for a solid half a day, capooch?”). He’s halfway to the elevator before another word is spoken, mind already trying to calculate if he’s still got time to call Amy.

Still in the process of pulling the tie away from his collar when he gets to his car, Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise when he realises Amy is leaning against the hood, waiting patiently for his arrival. He greets her with a happy kiss, shoving the necktie into his satchel before standing back. “Need a ride home, Ames?”

She smiles, reaching a hand out to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, and oh - how she makes his heart skip a beat. Even when he’s tired, and ready to go home, she could ask him to fly to the moon and he’d run back in to strap on a spacesuit. “It’s been a pretty long day, huh?” she asks, flattening her hand against his chest, and he’s pretty sure she can feel the thrumming of his heart.

“Yeah. Totally worth it though, to get Mandeville off the streets. Even if things got a little messy at the end there.”

Amy nods, fingers tracing the lines of a square on his signature checkered shirt before looking up at him through her lashes, and wow, she’s beautiful.

“So. Thanks to sub-section 47a of the Worker’s Rights Bill, we now get a mandatory rest period.”

Jake nods in agreement. “Yeah, the Vulture told me I can’t come back for twelve hours. Which is good to know is more because of the law, and not because he literally doesn’t want to see me.”

“Legally, it’s ten. But knowing your inability to start work on time, twelve seems fair.”

He can’t argue with that. Instead, Jake nods his head slightly, sensing that Amy is going somewhere with this. The hand that had been resting against his shirt moves slowly towards the buttons in the middle, toying with them gently. “Do you know what that means, Peralta?”

With his girlfriend (girlfriend!) playing - and pushing - his buttons like that, there isn’t a lot of cohesive thought in Jake’s head, and so he shakes it quickly.

She smiles, using the beaded chain that keeps his badge around his neck to tug him closer for a heated kiss. “It means that the NYPD legally isn’t allowed to interrupt us, Jake. For ten. hours.”

“Ames, are you …?”

“Take me home, Jake Peralta.”

He’s always been incredibly good at taking orders.

Amy’s fingers run down the middle of Jake’s shirt, using her thumb to release the buttons one by one as she yanks the fabric free. His hands feel heavy as they roam across her ass, fingertips digging in as he follows the curve and holds Amy tight against him.

She’d felt his eyes on her all afternoon, watching her from his position and hesitating to move until he knew that she wasn’t going to end up compromised. It was the well-worn action of a long known partner in the field, but there’s a difference in his gaze now - as though him looking out for her is no longer an act of duty, but more because he needs her to be safe. That her safety means more than his own. And although she didn’t want to use the word love just yet, she may just love him a little bit for it.

Her mind had tuned out fifteen second’s into Pembroke’s debrief as he (yet again) twisted their hard work into his own, instead choosing to spend the time devising a way to excuse herself from this sorry excuse of a meeting and sneaking her way into the men’s locker room. She just didn’t have enough of a working knowledge about all the cameras that ran along the hallway there, and as much as she wanted to join Jake in the shower, it wasn’t worth being busted at their workplace. (Again).

And so she had packed up her belongings as quickly as she could the moment they were dismissed, giving off the illusion of walking towards the subway before changing paths and heading to the parking garage, leaning against Jake’s car and waiting impatiently for him to arrive. Thankfully, he hadn’t been far behind the rest of them - and as she watched him walk towards her, tugging off his necktie as he moved, Amy had made a mental note to introduce said garment into the bedroom sometime soon.

He lets out a breathless version of her name as she grinds her body against his, seeking the friction of his jeans against her work slacks and returning for more. His erection is pushing through the denim, and as she places her right hand on the back of Jake’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss, her left dips below the waistband to feel him underneath. The moan he lets out in response spurs her on, and when he moves one hand away from her body to pop open the button that was holding his jeans closed Amy takes advantage of the increase in moving space, cupping Jake’s cock in her palm as she moves up and down. She never would have expected him to go commando, but right now she was thankful for one less barrier between them.

This night, this moment, was what they had been waiting for - what years of bickering and frank conversations and seeing each other at their best and worst had led to. The four weeks that they had been together had held more passion and excitement, without even involving sex, than her entire relationship with Teddy. But the crackle between them was too strong to ignore, desire growing past the point of containment, and Amy’s positive that if she doesn’t feel Jake’s hands soon, her version of the world will absolutely stop spinning.

Her own pants become unbuttoned, a thousand goose bumps rising along her skin when Jake’s hands begin to roam against the small of her back and Amy kisses him again, letting their tongues hint at what their bodies will soon be doing.

A flash of inspiration strikes her when the tip of Jake’s fingertips toy with the top of her underwear, and while Amy really doesn’t want to break the kiss, she also really wants to seduce the hell out of her boyfriend, and so reluctantly she pulls away, face softening into a reassuring smile when Jake looks at her in mild panic.

“I’m just going to freshen up a little bit … wait right here, okay?”

The desire is obvious in his eyes, and he licks his lower lip before responding. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from this, Ames.” His earnestness pulls her back to him for another kiss - soft and quick, just enough to keep both wanting more as she winks and moves quickly towards her bedroom.

Jake can still hear the blood pulsing in his ears as Amy disappears down her apartment hallway, and he rests his hands on his hips, taking a deep breath in a substandard attempt to regulate his heartbeat.

It was a relatively common knowledge that Amy Santiago was a little bit of a nerd. In all honesty, her ability to absorb information was one of his favourite things about her, and he could happily listen to her talk about pretty much anything. But what he had loved discovering in these past few weeks, was that underneath all the love for binders and organisation lay a red blooded woman who knew what she wanted, and knew exactly how she was going to get it. A turned on Amy kissed him like it was necessary for her survival, and kept him so close to her they almost melded into one. It was all incredibly sexy, and it kinda felt amazing that she entrusted him to know this side of her - the side that most of the people would never know. Perhaps, if he was really lucky, nobody but him would ever have the chance to find out again.

She doesn’t take too long to freshen up, in the way that only a well-practised Type A person could, and when he hears the door to her bathroom swing open and the soft sound of her footsteps drawing closer he looks in her direction, throat turning completely dry.

He’s always had a secret theory that Amy Santiago was actually a goddess, and this moment proved that he is absolutely correct. She looks stunning.

Her hair has been pulled out of its work appropriate bun, falling in gentle waves and scraping along her shoulders. Whatever makeup she had worn today has been scrubbed off, allowing her natural beauty to shine - and shine it did. Her eyes are sparkling, her cheeks a little flushed, and a nervous smile is stretched across her face. Gone was the grey pantsuit she had worn to the precinct, and in it’s place she wore a silk robe - red as the kiss-bitten lips that were stretched in a nervous smile across her face. His erection, already throbbing before Amy had even stepped into the bathroom, is now begging to be released.

Her voice is soft, and she toys with her fingers briefly. “I thought this might be a better look than my grey pantsuit.”

Jake takes in her nerves - a surprising change in demeanour, considering Sexpot Amy had been in front of him only moments before - and takes a step towards her, speaking from the heart when he responds. “Amy Santiago, you could literally wear anything and I will find you sexy. Your grey pantsuits are amazing. You in a paper sack would be amazing.”

She takes in the awed look on his face and her smile grows brighter, and it’s so beautiful to watch the confidence return to her features. How she could ever doubt how incredible she is, Jake will never know, but in a millisecond he vows to himself to never let her question it again.

He makes short work of the section of hallway that still separates them, arms already reaching for Amy before he can even get to her because the pull is just too great. It’s been seven weeks of dating, but four years of knowing her and a solid year or more of wishing for something he truly didn’t believe he would ever have. Tonight was more than just sex. It was so much more than that. They were so much more than that.

His hands dip lower until they’re gripping the back of her thighs, and with a quick tug he lifts Amy into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist without hesitation. She lets out an appreciative moan as he pulls her in for a kiss, tongues tangling sweetly, and all Jake can think about is how wonderful it is to feel Amy’s bare skin under his fingertips again. The silk feels cool against his hand - a welcome reprieve from their rising body heat - and everything about this moment is so soft (well … not everything), so warm and perfect. Amy Santiago was literal perfection.

The shirt that she had already unbuttoned earlier is pushed from Jake’s shoulders as they make their way down the hall, falling to the floor already forgotten as Jake moves them towards Amy’s bedroom. His shoulder bumps into the doorframe as he passes, barely registering as he stumbles towards her bed, lowering the two of them gently onto the mattress. His arms are still wrapped around her as they slide upwards toward the perfectly placed pillows at the top of the frame, and when Jake finally breaks their kiss he can’t help but stare.

Amy’s lips are swollen from all the kissing, stretched wide across her face as she looks up at him, the tiny gold stud earrings in each ear catching the light of her bedroom lamp as her eyes turn soft, her gentle hands running along his arms until they join at the nape of his neck. Her robe has shifted slightly since the hallway, gaping open at her chest and revealing the hint of a lace beneath.

“You’re so beautiful” Jake whispers, craning his neck down for a soft kiss. She lets out a soft sigh as his lips travel along her cheek, forging an intrepid path of tiny dotted kisses that lead along her jawline, teeth scraping against her earlobe before kissing the spot on her neck that, since date number two, he knows will make her moan. He can feel her breath wash across his cheek as she does, one hand delving further into his hair and gripping at the roots in a silent request for more.

His right hand slides down Amy’s side, thumb tracing the outline of her breast through the fabric before settling on the loose knot in her coverup, toying with the twisted material until her free hand joins his and yanks it all free. The curiosity is too great and Jake’s lips leave Amy’s neck, raising himself onto his elbows as he gazes down at his girlfriend, taking it all in.

Her chest rises with each deep breath, breasts covered in a lacy red bra that works in perfect contrast to her skin. As his eyes travel down they take in a matching set of underwear, the delicate edges tapering out to a thin strip that he cannot wait to tug downwards. It was all incredibly arousing, but to be fair that probably had more to do with the person wearing the items than the set itself. The hand that had stayed in his hair the whole time tightens slightly, and Jake looks up at Amy and smiles. “You are so gorgeous, Santiago.”

She blushes, her voice soft as she moves underneath him, one foot trailing up and down the outside of his leg. “I wore the same set on our first date. It just felt right to wear it now as well.”

Jake gulps, nodding quickly because the ability to form any more words seems to have disappeared completely. Quickly, he thanks all the stars that he hadn’t seen Amy in this that first night, because it would have made the resolve to wait all the more harder (double entendre intended). She smiles at his response, pushing her pelvis upwards so that it rubs against Jake’s and they both let out a moan, quietened only by Amy’s lips returning to his. The entire world could set itself on fire right now, and it still wouldn’t stop this from happening.

His undershirt is removed quickly as he lifts Amy from the mattress, releasing her arms from the robe before resting her back down, covering her body with his own. With the top button of his jeans still open from earlier Amy takes advantage of the ease of access, pulling down the zipper and cupping his ass with both hands, squeezing as she raises her hips to meet his again.

Jake kisses the lace cups of Amy’s bra, tongue marking out the edges of the material before dipping underneath, pushing the fabric away with his nose and taking one nipple into his mouth as Amy shivers. He repeats the action on the other side, sighing against her skin as she thrusts her chest towards him, making quick work of the hooks at the back and casting the bra to the floor. Free from barriers, Jake sucks gently on Amy’s breasts, teeth scraping the underside of her boob gently before heading lower.

This was better than any fantasy he could have ever imagined.

Amy’s right hand moves around to Jake’s front, gripping his erection in her gentle hand and jerking her wrist while his own hands travel down her waist, circling his thumbs against her hips. He’s reluctant to pull away, because Amy’s hands on him is everything, but the memory of making her come underneath his tongue hasn’t left his mind for a second since it happened four days ago, and he was dying to do it again.

She whispers his name, lifting her hips to help him pull her panties down, one leg hitching over Jake’s shoulder as her underwear falls to the floor. He begins a trail of kisses along her body, leaving a series of gentle bites that make Amy hitch her breath every time, pausing to suck harder against her inner thigh until he’s left a mark before continuing to her centre. He flicks his tongue briefly against her clit, pulling away at Amy’s gasp before returning to her labia; tasting her arousal, kissing and sucking as her fingers dive into his hair. She shifts, tugging his head to where she needs him the most, and when Jake dips his tongue inside her Amy drops her head to the mattress, letting out a moan that sends shivers down his spine. Then he adds his fingers to the mix, and she raises her hips completely off the bed.

All of her words tangle together, a garbled mix of encouragement and gratification as she shudders above him, legs trembling and fingernails scraping against his scalp, holding him exactly where she wants him as she comes apart with a quiet scream. He continues to kiss her skin as her breathing slows, hands releasing their vice grip and body returning to the sheets below. “Jake,” she whispers again, cupping her hand under his chin and beckoning him upwards for a passionate kiss, and oh, he could do this every day for the rest of his life.

Her legs tighten around him as she breaks the kiss, using the heels of her feet to begin pushing his jeans away and Jake follows her lead, shoving the denim until it’s on the floor alongside her panties and robe. Wrapping his arms around her, Jake revels in the feeling of finally being skin to skin with the woman of his dreams, sighing into her mouth as her hands roam over his body before returning to his erection and pulling gently.

His teeth sink into the curve of her shoulder, scraping against her skin and kissing a tiny mole he finds there, moaning at the sensation of Detective Santiago’s hands going to work on his cock. Her free hand returns to the base of his neck, delving up into his hairline as her movements speed up, and he’s really going to need to start thinking about something incredibly unsexy if he doesn’t want to come into her hand.

“Jake,” she whispers into his ear, breath tickling his cheek, fingernails dragging against his scalp. “Please. I can’t wait any longer. I need you inside me.” His eyebrows raise and he moves up to kiss her again, relieved to know that he wasn’t the only one who was barely holding on. When he pulls away, Amy looks at him with such tenderness that Jake’s heart stutters a little in his chest, moving into place until the tip of his cock is rubbing against her clit, shifting again until he’s hovering above her opening.

He enters her, keeping his movement slow and steady, watching her carefully as he goes. Her eyes are on fire, brown embers stoking his own flames as they become one, Amy letting out a heavy breath as he moves. Finally, their pelvises are hard against each other, and Jake has a new contender for the Greatest Feeling Ever award.

She pulls him in for a kiss, twisting her tongue alongside her own and biting down on his lower lip when she pulls away, the defiance in her eyes mixing with her desire. Her name comes out as a venerable moan and she cups his cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone as she wraps her legs around his waist, and just like that, it’s on. Jake pulls out slightly before returning a little faster, repeating the motion and working the two of their bodies into a rhythm both can enjoy.

It’s as though the fireworks that have been building up inside them have finally snapped, the continuous friction leading to an outpouring of sparks so bright and mind-blowing they can barely keep up. Her legs grip tightly around his hips, shifting her weight onto one shoulder as she flips them over, rising up and sinking down low as their movements gain speed. His hands follow the curve of her waist, tracing the dip of her ribcage and palming one of her breasts as she lets out a moan of pleasure above him. Her skin, slick with sweat, looks so perfect as it glistens in the low light of her bedroom, and the sight of her now is something Jake will remember for years to come.

All the years of bickering, of stubborn silences and quiet conversations during overnight stakeouts have boiled over, culminating in the two of them tonight as they move together. This was the best sex he’s ever had, and it had everything to do with it being with Amy Santiago.

Amy twists her hips slightly, rising and falling on his cock with breathless huffs of her chest, and as he feels himself creep closer and closer to the edge Jake reaches out to touch her clit, rubbing his thumb in slow circles as she keens above him. She leans forward, squeezing her knees into his waist as she pulls him in for a kiss and the change of angle makes them sigh in unison. Jake begins to increase his thrusts, tenting his knees and pushing himself into her in rapid succession, thumb playing harder with Amy’s clit until she’s shaking above him, tucking her head into his shoulder and calling out his name as she climaxes.

Jake’s hands wrap around Amy’s back, holding her close to his body as his movements turn erratic, and it’s only a few short moments later that he finds his own release, tightening his grip around her as he lets out a satisfied moan.

Her head rests against his shoulder as they lay together panting, the feeling of togetherness too great for either of them to be interested in moving just yet. Moving one hand from her back, Jake grips Amy’s hand inside his own, noticing for the first time just how small her palm is compared to his own. She is tiny, but she is fierce. And he’s fairly certain that he’s falling in love with her.

It’s another few minutes before either of them can speak, and even then it’s only after Amy has finished peppering tiny kisses onto Jake’s bare chest.

“That was … amazing.”

Jake smiles, using his free hand to wipe a few stray hairs away from Amy’s sweaty brow. “It really, really was.”

She smiles, leaning up slightly to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. “To think we could have done this years ago, if we’d actually paid attention to our feelings instead of ignoring them.”

He lets out a snort of laughter. “But … worth the wait, right?”

Amy’s arms fold out onto Jake’s chest as she rests her entire body on top of him, legs sliding alongside his, resting her chin onto her forearms and looking up with those beautiful eyes. “Oh, absolutely. But … for the record, everything about you is worth the wait.”

She leans forward again for another kiss, only this time Jake holds her there, tangling his fingers in her hair as he deepens it. They’re both breathless by the time he pulls away, and she rests her forehead against his for a spell, taking everything in. “Smooth talking, Santiago.”

Sliding off of his body and resting on the mattress next to him, Amy shuffles until one whole side of her is pressed against Jake before responding. “Every bit of it is true, Peralta. Now let me catch my breath, because we are totally doing that again.”

“We are totally doing that again, title of my sextape.” Jake gasps, turning to face Amy as an ecstatic grin takes over his face.

“Title of OUR sextape!”

#mine #myfic #thank you for this prompt!#peraltiago fic #peraltiago smut #jake x amy fic #smutfic #oh how I've missed writing this #kinda nervous posting this #hope it reads okay!#b99 fanfic #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fic

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