#in retrospect I could have placed the spear in a less weird place. like. he got stabbed in the cooch

[olivexing]

merman in distress (circa 2019) 💦

stabbed RIGHT in the cooch, ouchies!!

[nalufever]

A Case of the Feelz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, it is over?”

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

“Let you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, do I taste funny?”

“Ooh! The name of your sex tape!”

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

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

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

“Technically this is our second date.”

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

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

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