“I will always love you, whether or not I’m a part of your life next year.”
“Jake, stop being weird! Of course you’re gonna be in my life next year, as I will yours.”
He let out an exasperated sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God! ‘Cause I’m the master of the Halloween heist and you hate me every year for it, it’s a tradition.”
You playfully roll your eyes. “You didn’t win this year, Jake.”
“But I will next year!” he grabs a handful of the dessert you made from the platter. “I’m stealing your cookies, Y/N!” and he heads off.
Hi! Well, first off, I just wanted to say I REALLY love your writing, but I do also have a request. Could you please do a Jake Peralta (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) romantic drabble with Prompt #43 from List 1? If not, that's totally cool! Thanks!
Characters: Reader x Jake Peralta
Warnings: alcohol
Prompt: 43. “I’m not jealous! Okay fine, maybe a little.”
Word Count: 401
A/N: thank u so much love!! i hope u like it!!
want to request a drabble? Read this post!
Jake takes a sip from his beer, leaning up against the counter at Shaw’s. It’s bustling, full of loud chatter and music, as the bar usually is on a Friday night. After a long week of solving cases, the squad had decided to all go for a drink to round up the week.
Jake’s gaze sweeps over the bar, and he frowns slightly as he notices you standing a little further down the bar. You’ve got a drink in your hand, and you politely laugh along with a man who stands beside you. Jake doesn’t recognise him, figuring it’s just some random trying to hit you up, and Jake can’t help but feel a swell of jealousy in his chest. He takes another swig from his drink, his hand tightly gripping around the bottle.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you excuse yourself from the conversation. You look around, grinning upon seeing Jake, and you quickly make your way over to him. Waving Hank down, you order, “Hey, Hank, can I get another drink? And another one for Jake here.”
You pat Jake’s arm, and Jake grins at you as you take a seat in the barstool beside him. Jake nods back to where you were previously standing, asking, “Who was that?”
You shrug, finishing off your drink. “Don’t know. He was boring.”
Jake snorts, feeling somewhat relieved to hear about your disinterest. You nudge Jake as Hank slides your drinks over to you, and you ask, “Why’d you ask?”
Jake quickly avoids eye contact, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he quickly stammers, “No reason.”
Your eyes narrow at Jake’s expression, before you splutter, “You weren’t jealous, were you?”
“I’m not jealous!” Jake gasps, his overdramatic reaction only proving your point. You raise your eyebrows, and Jake lets out a defeated sigh. He should’ve known better than to lie to you, a fellow detective. His shoulders slump as he reluctantly admits, “Okay fine, maybe a little.”
“Hey,” you reach out, placing your hand on Jake’s arm, and Jake softens. You smile at him, before reassuring him, “You of all people have nothing to be jealous of.”
Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “What does that mean?”
You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink, and Jake bites back his smile. The both of you drink together, knowing exactly what you mean as you shuffle closer to Jake, your leg pressing up against his.
Hi ~ congrats on the milestone 🎉 Could I please get a prompt drabble for Jake from B99 and prompt #1 with the reader being Jake’s half-sibling? Thank you 💕
gif // a/n: I hope you like it and thanks for requesting!!
You had been looking forward to the dinner all week. You, your half-brother Jake, and your dad, all sitting down at one table, the family dinner you never had as a kid. Honestly, up until the time you saw your dad enter the restaurant and sit down with you and Jake at the table, you wouldn’t let yourself believe that it would happen. You had been disappointed far too many times before.
However, the evening was made more interesting by the fact that your dad had brought his latest girlfriend, for lack of a better word, and so now, you and Jake were trying to figure out how to navigate the situation.
“So... you guys met at an airport...” you started. “Very cool.”
“Doesn’t he meet all of them at an airport?” Jake asked, just loud enough for you to hear and kick him under the table.
“Mmm,” said your dad’s girlfriend. “I hate that place.”
“The airport?” Jake asked.
Then why is she dating a pilot? you thought.
“This is our first date that hasn’t been at an airport restaurant,” she said. “But I didn’t know he would invite his bastard kids to our date, too.”
Your eyes widened and you exchanged a look with Jake, the awkwardness at the table building, and your dad doing next to nothing to alleviate the situation. You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh, staring down at your plate as Jake’s dad began to argue with the girlfriend. Normally, you’d consider this another busted hang with your dad, but with Jake there to experience it with you, it wasn’t so bad.
“So... global warming. What a bitch, right?” Jake asked, an attempt to change the subject to something a little less tense. “We’re all gon’ drown.”
You buried a laugh in your napkin as your dad’s girlfriend rejoined your conversation. “Oh, you actually believe in that? Roger, really? They believe in that shit?” The two of them started arguing and Jake turned to you, also trying to not laugh.
“Forgot that icecaps are a whole political thing today,” Jake said.
You nodded. “Yeah, we need better inside jokes than that. It just doesn’t hit the same anymore.”
[x] requested by @lotsoffandomimagines // request here!
-
“Are you looking for someone?”
You jump at the abrupt voice, hands clutching the brown paper bag nervously. It was your first time visiting your brother at work; you had decided to surprise him with lunch but the unfamiliar and bustling environment made you nervous. There were lots of faces in the police precinct and, scanning them, you hadn’t recognised your brother in all the time you had been awkwardly standing near the elevator.
“Um, yes?” You say, gaze still flicking around the precinct. “My brother. He’s a detective here. The 99th Precinct, right?”
“You’re in the right place.” Rosa answers, raising an eyebrow. She clears her throat, trying to get your wandering attention. “What’s his name?”
You turn to face her finally, eyes locking. Rosa swallows; you were cute, very cute. Almost annoyingly cute. Like, she-would-love-to-take-you-out sometime cute. She had to resist scowling at her moment of distraction because she had missed your brother’s name. Rosa shakes her head, “Sorry. I missed that. What did you say his name was?”
“Jake Peralta.” You repeat, fumbling with your bag before sticking a hand out. “I’m Y/N.”
“Rosa Diaz.” She answers automatically, shaking your hand, before adding with a formal lilt to her voice. “Detective. Detective Rosa Diaz. I can take you to Peralta if you’d like.”
“That would be lovely, Detective Rosa Diaz.” You tease, a smile breaking across your face.
When Rosa turns to lead you to Jake, she groans inwardly. She knows she’s fallen for you and, damn, she has fallen hard.
could you please do Jake/Amy + prompt 17 from the smut list? (maybe even dom!amy and sub!jake with anal stuff if you are okay with that) 😁
17. “Oh my god, do that again.”
“I ever tell you how good you look like this? Just squirming?” She asks, twisting her hips just so and making him moan.
When really, she tells him that all the time. Especially when they’re doing this sort of activity.
And like okay, he really likes it when she has him lying on his stomach and Amy roughly fucks him into the bed from behind.
But he really likes this too, in an entirely different way. When she takes him this way- when he’s on his back, she’s between his spread legs, moving inside of him. Opening his eyes to see her staring down at him, taking all of him in as she steadily fucks him.
This position makes him feel bare and vulnerable and exposed in all the best possible ways. Bare to her as she buries the strap on inside of him, making him cry out in pleasure, back arching off the bed as he begs her for more.
_______
Then Amy loses her rhythm for a second, her hips stuttering, and a sharp jerk forward has Jake making a sound she’s certainly never heard him make before.
She honestly can’t tell if that felt really good or really uncomfortable.
That’s answered for her when Jake writhes on the cock inside of him, pushing back and trying to impale himself on her even further, weakly panting, “Oh my god, do that again.”
Amy raises her eyebrow for a moment. Really good then.
She gives him another experimental thrust, trying for the same place, same force, same speed. Jake actually whimpers, lips falling open in ecstasy. And okay, she knows that sound.
It was one of her favorite sounds to get from him.
As she builds up speed, his noises get needier, more desperate.
She doesn’t know if he can get any hotter than this. Eyebrows pulled together, face slack in pleasure, the flush creeping all the way down his neck, and those fucking noises. Those noises will be the death of her.
“Touch yourself,” she orders, grabbing onto his hips with both hands, going even faster and harder, pounding into him.
Jake whines, already overwhelmed by what she was doing, could barely process what she said, but then he wraps his shaking fingers around his cock, whimpering with every breath he takes.
“Pl-please,” he begs, nothing more than that. But she knows exactly what he’s asking for. More.
So she gives it to him.
It doesn’t take long. Of Amy thrusting inside of him, feeling so good, making him gasp and moan and whine and keen every time she hits that spot inside of him, making him cry out. Never mind that he’s so hard he can barely think right now. But even his hand on himself is weak, stroking himself, but just barely, too caught up in what he’s feeling to do anything more.
It’s not long before he comes, a panting mess. She strokes his side as he comes down, gasping. He was always so good for her. She liked making him feel good too. Her fingers go to brush the fringe of sweaty hair at his forehead. He’s still gasping, eyes still closed, but he presses into the palm of her hand, and she knows what that means. She smiles down at him. He really was a sight. Just beautiful.
Amy and Jake’s relationship was full of surprises.
Jake had never met someone so incredibly smart, nerdy, beautiful, and freaking badass in his life.
Amy had never met someone so goofy yet intelligent, sensitive yet strong, immature yet wise, and absolutely adorable.
But there was one thing, one little surprise that Amy could not seem to get over.
“I’ve never met someone as ticklish as you,” Amy observed, amusement lacing her tone as she trailed her fingers down Jake’s side.
Jake recoiled so violently he almost fell off the bed, a helpless giggle falling from his lips before he could stop himself. “Shut up!”
“I’m just saying!” Amy defended, scooting closer to flutter her fingers over the side of his neck, and her husband-to-be snorted, making her unable to keep from laughing herself. “I think you might be the most ticklish person in the world.”
“This is just bullying!” Jake spluttered, batting uselessly at her wiggling fingers.
But Jake always managed to surprise her, because in the midst of all his laughter and squirming, he still managed to get the upper hand and pin her beneath him, both their laughter filling their bedroom to the brim.
And married life would soon bring even more surprises for them to discover, together.
to the anon who asked if i do fic requests, then requested the vaguest prompt of a peraltiago drabble… this went on WAY longer than i expected it to when i started it, it’s late, i’m feeling too sleepy for editing, but in this moment i’m pretty satisfied. so are jake and amy, bee tee dubs ;)
—–
The undercover opportunity was one Jake Peralta would’ve yearned for at any other time in his police career. And maybe now was the perfect time, because the biggest thing holding him back wasn’t a thing at all, but a person. A girl, a woman, a physical manifestation of everything that made him crazy and frustrated and stupid-in-love.
Not that he mentally labeled it love - that kind of emotion wasn’t exactly on his radar. But he felt something for Amy Santiago, and every day it intensified to the point of pain. It felt like every time they got close to the edge he wanted desperately to just leap over, something got in the way. Something like possible career shifts, professionalism, stupid guys named stupid Teddy, pilsners, Teddys, Teddys, and oh yeah, Teddys.
What she saw in that dope Jake just didn’t know. The problem was, she did see something in him. Hell, she saw a future with the guy. A pilsner-brewing future in which she’d never have problems falling asleep at night because oh my GOD the man was so insanely boring, but a future nonetheless.
So when none other than the FBI recruited Jake for an undercover mission, he saw little reason to turn it down. He wasn’t used to emotional turmoil; he liked to think he was a pretty simple guy. He liked Die Hard, blue beverages of all kinds, immature jokes, pranking his coworkers, and solving crime. He was not the type to stifle himself under a leaden blanket of feelings - least of all feelings in the romantic-stylez vein.
But when a cop went undercover, particularly deep undercover for one of Brooklyn’s most notorious crime families, there were no guarantees. Jake was nothing if not confident in his abilities - maybe too confident - and he didn’t really think things would wind up going south. Still, the possibility existed. He may never return from this mission, and damn it, he owed it to himself to get this weight off his chest. He couldn’t afford distractions, of which Amy holy-hotness-batman Santiago was a huge one. He couldn’t let his mind wander repeatedly into ‘what if?’ territory, so he’d decided that this was it: he was laying it on the line. He’d tell her how he felt, because soul-crushing rejection - which he thoroughly anticipated - would take a backseat to the role he was undertaking. Plus, she was in a relationship. There was no way she’d be open to the prospect of them, so it didn’t really matter either way. What mattered was simply telling her how he felt, because he might not have that chance later. She was important to him, damn it. And he wanted her to know that, just in case he didn’t come back.
Plus, if he didn’t, he figured she’d grieve crazy hard knowing he’d gone off into battle, his heart torn by unrequited love.
Jake laughed at himself as he shouldered a box of belongings from his desk - the one that directly faced Amy, the one with a computer monitor strategically placed to give him an unobstructed view of her while remaining subtle. God, his infatuation had turned him into a total creep. Not that he really cared. Sometimes in life, you just grabbed the small pleasures. Looking at Amy was one of them.
The precinct was dark and empty - Jake was specifically clearing out after hours to remain under the radar. He’d already enjoyed a highly dramatic performance that afternoon when he made a spectacle of ‘quitting’ the Nine Nine, and storming out as he had would’ve been ruined by a return trip to pick up his scattered supplies. There was the framed photo of him and Amy - innocuous, of course, because obviously a guy deeply crushing on a girl wouldn’t frame a picture that featured her red-eyed, tear-gassed face - a light-up police dome siren (fully and obnoxiously functional), various figurines, a slinky (everyone loves a slinky), a Rubix cube Amy completed a few years back that he hadn’t touched since, and similar toys that, contrary to popular opinion, actually facilitated his case-solving abilities.
He left behind his files, his crumbs, the more suspicious (read, possibly infectious) items living and breeding in his drawers, then took a slow scan of the precinct he called home. He felt an unwelcome pang in his gut but forced himself to the elevator - if he hoped to catch Santiago before she headed out, he had to hurry.
So he was startled when the elevator doors opened to reveal none other than Amy, who stood in a fleece-lined jacket, dark hair framing that irritatingly perfect face. Jake noticed the sheen in her big brown eyes, the nervous twist of her fingers, the gap between her chin and scarf revealing a touch of that lovely neck. He literally shook his head to bring her properly into focus.
“Jake! Good, I’m glad I caught you,” she spoke quickly, reaching forward to hold the elevator’s ‘open’ button.
“Just barely,” he said casually - no reason to let her know he’d planned on tracking her down if he didn’t have to. He shifted into the small space of the elevator, twisted awkwardly with the box, and managed to hit the wrong button on the elevator panel. They were only a few floors up - Jake had managed to knock the button for level nine, but in the chaotic movements, he upended his box, spilling toys and random Jake-style-stuff everywhere. Neither noticed the gentle rise of the elevator as both Jake and Amy crouched to collect his stuff.
“Shit,” Jake muttered, haphazardly grabbing and tossing things while Amy carefully stacked items of similar shapes and neatly tucked them into a corner of the supply box. He had to grin. “It’s all going in the trunk, Ames. The second I start my car, all that organizing will fly out the window. Possibly literally - really gotta get my rear windshield fixed.”
They were both still kneeling on the elevator floor, and when their eyes met, Jake laughed and Amy blushed. He got to his feet and offered a hand.
“Wait - are we going up?” Amy asked suddenly, and unnecessarily, as the elevator buttons were clearly lighting up in ascending order as they climbed from one floor to the next.
“No wonder you’re detective, second grade,” Jake told her, grinning. God damn but she was beautiful. That bottom-heavy mouth, those big eyes that needed zero cosmetic enhancement, the way her nose scrunched when she really smiled. Don’t even get him started on the body beneath those tidy, professional pantsuits.
And when she stuck her tongue out at him - as she did now - he had a perverse urge to bite it.
“So uh, what are you still doing here?” Jake asked, pressing the correct button even as the elevator continued its rise. There would be no return journey until they hit the top level, giving him ample time to speak his piece - the elevator wasn’t exactly top-of-the-line.
“Well…” She was blushing again. “I wanted to… I just didn’t have a chance to really say goodbye, to wish you luck in all the chaos earlier. Felt weird not doing that, and I was around the corner anyway so… I just thought I’d see if you were here.”
Amy rolled those doe-eyes but didn’t bother hiding a smile. “Maybe. It’ll be weird… I mean, think of how much more I’ll get done without you around to distract me?”
“Just say it,” he prompted, grinning charmingly. The dent in his chin grew more pronounced when he smiled like that; he’d have been stunned to know Amy had a very similarly perverse urge to nip at it.
“I’ll miss you,” she conceded, before adding, “When I remember to.”
“Harsh, Ames, very harsh. It’s okay. Don’t try to hide it. You’ll feel my absence like a missing limb for every day I’m gone. Every time you say something totally dorky and I’m not there to call out ‘title of your sex tape’ you’ll feel the emptiness in your soul. Whenever the printer gets jammed and you need someone to take it out on who will you turn to? Who’s going to help you plot the perfect gifts for Holt if not me? Who’ll be there to call out your amazing self-burns? Who will - ”
“Jake.”
“Protect you from strippers who show up uninvited to the workplace? Beat you at bets and take you on date nights you’ll never forget? Ask you to cover their tab at Shaw’s - ”
“Jake.”
“Educate you on the finer points of the various Die Hards? Protect you from Gina and her horribly aimed airplane memos? Keep Charles from using the word ‘moist’ too often? Convince Hitchcock to put his shirt back - ”
“Jake!!”
The panic came through this time, and Jake, who’d been leaning lazily in the back corner of the elevator, pulled himself out of his very enjoyable reverie. “Ames?”
“It’s not moving,” she said, breathing hard. She was already stripping off her winter coat, her face growing red, her eyes enormous.
“What? What’s not - ” Jake looked to the control panel. It remained dark, giving no indication as to what floor they were on - or rather, which floors they were almost definitely stuck between. “Oh, shit.”
“Jake,” Amy’s voice was a plea, “Jake, I can’t breathe.” She was gasping in little pants of air, and Jake remembered suddenly that Amy had a very real problem with claustrophobia.
“Hey - Ames. Amy, stop.” Jake put his box down and crossed the elevator - which took all of three steps - bracing his hands under her elbows to keep her from sliding limply to the floor. “Look at me, Amy.”
That lower lip was trembling, those dark eyes wild. “Jake, I can’t - I can’t - ”
“Amy, keep it together. We’re gonna be totally fine. Where’s your cell?”
“I - it’s - oh God, I can’t - Jake I can’t breathe!”
He bent to retrieve the coat she’d shed, reached in a pocket for her cell and decided not to tell her she had zero bars of service. Instead, he pulled a fairly dirty move and withdrew, dialing a bullshit number, holding the phone to his ear, and faking a quick breakdown of their situation to the empty air of the phone line. Amy’s eyes were frozen on the floor, so Jake used his elbow to hit the emergency button on the elevator panel, hoping for a response.
The speaker - thank God - crackled to life. “What’s your emergency?” a lazy, dispatcher-style voice asked.
“Hi, ma’am, I’m in an elevator at Brooklyn’s 99th precinct and it seems to be - ” Jake risked a look at Amy, lowered his voice a little. “Well, we’re stuck between floors.”
The woman didn’t sound overly alarmed. “I’ll contact the NYFD. Someone should be with you shortly. Is everyone safe? How many of you are in there? You know, oxygen gets tight in enclosed spaces.”
Amy let out a gasp at the same time that Jake bit off a vicious curse. “That’s very helpful information, ma’am, but it’s just two of us. Can you give me an ETA on a rescue crew?”
“Hold your horses,” the lady said easily, “Not like they’ve got anywhere to go.” This was accompanied by a snicker, and Jake barely resisted punching the metal panel. “Stay on the line - ” another laugh, because what the hell else could they do? - “I’ll be in touch in a few.”
Jake turned from the elevator doors. Amy had bonelessly dropped to the floor, and her breaths were far too frequent - she would go into a full-blown panic attack if she didn’t get herself under control. Jake knelt beside her and took one cold, clammy hand.
“Ames, I need you to slow your breathing, okay? Amy! Look at me. Look at me.”
Her dazed eyes met his, glassy with fear. He’d known for ages that she had severe claustrophobia, but this was his first time seeing it in action, and he was definitely not a fan. “Hey, this is going to be totally fine. Didn’t you come back to the precinct to give me a goodbye? Well, now’s your chance. Go ahead, Ames - this is the perfect time for you to unleash every nasty thought you’ve ever had about me. Feel free to throw in some compliments, too - my ego is a fragile thing, after all.”
She gave a hiccuping laugh; her hand was so tight on his that there would be inevitable bruising. Jake sat beside her on the floor, hands linked tight. In all honesty, he was pretty freaked out himself, but Amy was priority one.
“So what do you think you’ll miss most about me? My suave charm? This here chin dimple that I just know the ladies love? The daily joy of having a hot piece of ass to look at whenever your eyes are going blurry from your computer screen?”
Amy’s hand was flexing in his; he was pretty sure the movement was involuntary, and he could feel her pulse race.
“Hey, you have better manners than this, Santiago. It’s not nice to just ignore someone when they’re fishing for compliments.”
Another broken laugh, but no coherent words left her mouth.
“Okay, Amy? You’re still breathing too fast. Your pulse is off-the-charts. Now, I know I often have that effect on women, but come on, you’re above that hormone-induced crap, aren’t you?”
“I can’t - ” she took a gulp of air. “I can’t stop. I - ” she grabbed his free hand and pressed it to her chest, which, in any other circumstances, would’ve been entirely delightful. Now, it was only frightening - Jake could feel the beat of her heart like a drum thudding hard against his palm.
“If I’d known this was the way to cop a feel I’d have jammed you in one of these places years ago,” he said as lightly as possible. Her silk shirt was damp with sweat; he could see the pulse point thunder in her throat.
“Don’t say jammed don’t say jammed don’t - ”
“Teasing, completely teasing. That was dumb, I’m sorry. Ames, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are very, very hot. I’m just gonna - ” he used the hand she held to her heart to work his way down the length of her shirt, flicking buttons open as he went. Her skin was red, the beat of her heart visible as it pumped blood beneath the cup of her lace-edged white bra. The contrast of white fabric against flushed brown skin was stark.
“Why did I come back?” she asked herself, seemingly oblivious to the gaping opening of her shirt. In fact, she kept one hand clenched around Jake’s and used the other to slip the blazer from her shoulder, automatically switching hands to repeat the process on the opposite side until she sat there in her pretty shirt, fully unbuttoned, bra in plain view, chest heaving.
A voice crackled over the speaker, making Amy’s whole body jerk against Jake. He slipped an arm around her shoulder in a move natural as breathing.
“ETA thirty minutes,” the same woman’s voice said through the speaker. “You doing okay in there?”
It was a stupid question, and Jake’s tone had a bite to it when he answered. “Look, my friend here has nasty claustrophobia, so if you could send a medic, too, that would be really, really helpful.”
Amy was burrowing into Jake’s side now, trembling head to toe, gripping the open collar of his leather jacket. Her skin was viciously hot, her breath beginning to wheeze.
“Check,” the emergency contact answered. “Medic will be on scene with the fire department. Hang in there, guys.” Another devious chuckle followed by complete silence.
Jake felt completely out of his depth. He fumbled through Amy’s purse until he came up with a bottle of water, annoyed that he hadn’t thought to look till now. “Ames, drink some of this. Come on, sweetheart.” Terms of endearment didn’t usually roll off his tongue so easily; maybe Amy clued into that on some level, because she lifted her head from his shoulder and obediently opened her mouth.
Okay, so that’s how they’d do it. Jake tried not to let his hand tremble as he lifted the bottle to her lips and slowly angled it upward, only dribbling a little. He cursed himself for tracking the drops of water that slipped from her chin to her bared chest.
“Okay, that’s good, really good. A few more sips, okay?”
She swallowed slowly, keeping her eyes glued to his as though using their locked gaze to hold herself in place. It was, Jake discovered, absolutely terrifying to see someone he knew to be rock solid, confident, dependable, self-sufficient, independent, reduced to a facsimile of herself. And it was worse, so much worse, to be completely clueless as to how he could handle the situation.
“You’re doing really well, babe,” he told her, even as concern spiked through him - her body temperature was too high, but she was suddenly shivering viciously. “Okay, okay, come here, Ames, come closer.” He tucked her against him, willing his strength into her.
“Jake, I think I’m going to pass out.”
“No, you’re not. Santiago!” This time he snapped, grabbed her by the chin and jerked her to face him dead on. “You’re stronger than that fainting crap, and you know I’ll never let you live it down if you pass out on me. You just need a distraction. Think of… I don’t know, think of what you’d do with an unlimited gift card to that stationary place you love so much. Think of… think of Holt. Holt would not want to see his best detective falling apart because a stupid elevator is… being stupid. Think of, uh, what’s-his-face - the New York Times guy. Think of that time you found a typo, and he sent you that personal thank you note for calling him out. Think of your brothers and how they’d mock you forever for pulling a girly stunt like this over such a tiny little glitch. Think of - ”
“Jake?” Somehow her palm was suddenly cupping his cheek, and her face was so close they breathed the same air.
“Uh - yeah - um - ”
“Please.”
He looked into her eyes for a long, long moment. Fought through the hope and nerves and all those tangled feelings to get a bead on exactly what she was saying. To make sure he was interpreting the look in her eyes correctly before he made a disastrous mistake.
Then, seemingly of their own volition, his fingers crept from her chin to cup the nape of her neck.
“Ames. Think about - ”
“I don’t want to think,” she whispered, her breath feathering his lips, a delightful torment, a beautiful promise.
Jake swallowed, licked his lips. Her gaze didn’t flicker, but her breathing had slowed, calmed throughout his frantic attempts to bring her back from the panic.
“Help me not think,” she said again, because she saw the doubt - the honor of a man scared of taking advantage of a vulnerable situation - in his eyes.
“Are you - ” Jake closed his eyes this time, breathed through his nose, exhaled out his mouth. And then that mouth kicked up in a grin. “Oh, fuck it,” he murmured, and he closed the distance between them, offering her a whole different sort of mouth-to-mouth, the sort that had a new flavor of heat pumping through their blood, a flush brought on not by fear but by lust finally unleashed.
“You taste exactly like I thought you would, only better,” Jake managed breathlessly, staring at those lips swollen from his kisses as his every nerve ending vibrated. “Shit, Ames, you don’t even know - ”
“I do,” she whispered, “I really do.”
Neither of them noticed when the elevator kicked back into motion and began its gentle descent. Their mouths were still locked in a dance, a battle, a celebration of heat even as the doors rolled open. A vague voice in Jake’s head alerted him to the incoming rush of cold air, but instead of releasing Amy, he tugged her closer and blindly slapped at the control panel. The elevator doors closed again with a soft ‘swish.’ Jake pulled away just long enough to hit the intercom button and update the dispatch lady, telling her they were in the clear.
And then they were mouth-to-mouth again, and everything was just exactly right.
What about jealous Raymond or Kevin? (You can make this a drabble or give your opinons)
Raymond watched silently
As a man with bleach white teeth tried and failed to smile charmingly at Kevin
Kevin didn’t return it
Their eyes met across the room and Kevin’s head immediately turned, with no trace of subtlety, to acknowledge him
His eyes are warm but frost over as he hears the man again
He turns back, tongue sharp and silver before walking with purpose across the room without looking back at the toothy man, whose grin has slipped
He disappears in Kevin’s eye and though he is in the peripheral of Raymond’s he’s not the focus
Kevin is. And as he maneuvers his way to Raymond’s side, making a remark about the book they’ve been reading together, the little spark of Jealousy that might have been is extinguished
And forgotten
_____________
(I think that any flirting, Kevin would quickly rebuke and that Raymond wouldn’t understand that someone’s flirting with him easily? But once he did he would also immediately decline their affections)
