Recently I Have Been Into Fics That Are Mainly Plot And Have Less Romance / Romance As A Subplot, BUT

recently I have been into fics that are mainly plot and have less romance / romance as a subplot, BUT idk how to specifically find fics like that :( if anyone can help out please do 😭 you can recommend fics or teach me your ways — anything is great for me !!!

literally every single marauders writer also writes for stranger things

had to share this one with yall bc i giggled

Honest Character

Jake Peralta x Reader - Dating the Captain's daughter [1.2K Words]

The Brooklyn summer heat had taken a toll on the city. Everyone at the office was dripping through their shirts this morning due to the absence of air conditioning, courtesy of a broken fuse that impacted all of New York City. The entire squad was forced to dress summer casual, looking like a bunch of vacationers that had washed up into the precinct, with only Capitan Holt abiding to the work-place dress code.

So, when you walked into the police station with your yellow sundress swaying up your thighs, Jake Peralta had no choice but to look you up and down like a tall glass of water. With sunglasses adorning your head like a crown, you walked straight into the Captain’s office without saying a single word. The Captain had shut his office door behind you, forbidding any eavesdropping of the conversation.

“Jake, stop staring down the new sketch artist,” Terry commanded from his desk, “You’re going to scare her away before she even starts.”

The detective turned towards Terry, confusion running through his brows, “We hired a new sketch artist? How come I was never told this?”

“Because you always hit on the new hires,” Rosa chimed in dropping off a shared file onto Jakes desk, “Holt asked us all to keep her transfer a secret until she got here.”

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what’s this feeling in my stomach 🫢

hii my love i hope ur okay <3

uhhh Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration ; with tasm! peter if u want to bcos he’s my babygirl djfjjs <3

— ivy <3

@inkluvs i adore u and peter <3

sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, tasm!peter parker x reader, 0.9k

You didn’t even know Peter could get drunk, honestly. Something about a higher metabolism from the spider bite allowing him to burn off alcohol fast enough so that he never actually got drunk no matter how much he drank. 

That assumption was quickly struck down when you heard knocking at your window at almost one in the morning, right when you were about to go to bed. 

It wasn’t uncommon for your vigilante boyfriend to swing by your place after a night of patrolling, always telling you that he wanted you to be the lasting memory at the front of his mind before he fell asleep. In a world full of bad, you were the good, and that’s what he needed to remember. 

Sometimes he was so tired he even stayed the night, passing out curled around you with his face pressed against your neck. Those were the times when he disappeared early before you woke up in the morning, only leaving you a messily scribbled note telling you he’d see you later. You kept those notes in a box on your desk and looked at them whenever you missed Peter a little too much. 

This time, however, you were surprised to see that he wasn’t in his suit like he usually was, just sweatpants and a hoodie under that battered army green jacket he always wore, still crouched on your fire escape rapping his knuckles against the glass with the dopiest grin on his face. 

“Peter? What—what are you doing here? Where’s your suit, someone could’ve seen you!” You were hurling questions at him at a mile a minute, but he just blinked slowly, swaying on his feet a little bit. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you?” 

“I mean it.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“What? No, I’m…maybe. Just a little. Like, this much.” He held his thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart, snickering. 

“Yeah, sure,” You snorted, helping him through the window so he didn’t topple over into the room. As soon as his feet were planted on the ground, he kissed you, slipping his hand around the back of your neck. Peter tasted a little bit like beer, but you didn’t really mind, not when he was kissing you this deeply. “What was that for?” You panted as soon as you pulled away, bracing your hands against his chest after his kiss had stolen the breath out of yours. 

“Because you’re pretty. Because I love you.” 

“How much have you had to drink?” 

“Not a lot.” 

“Here, drink some water.” You went to grab the water bottle from your bedside table, but a web stretched past you before you could reach it, hitting the metal with a thwip and whipping it back into Peter’s hand. 

He took a large swig from it, snickering when you gave him a pointed look. “I’m not drunk, see. I totally nailed that.” 

“You’re so cool, Pete.” You hummed idly, tugging him out of his jacket and tossing it off to the side, guiding him towards your bed. He stumbled over his own socked feet a few times, but you were there to steady him. 

“Have I told you how much—how much I love you?” He hiccupped, flopping onto the mattress with no real strength behind the movement. You made a noise of acknowledgement, busying yourself with getting Peter’s sneakers off instead. “I love you so much it hurts, right here,” He jabbed a finger against his chest, right above his heart, letting out a small ‘ow’ with the force of it. You stifled a laugh, plucking the glasses off his face and setting them down next to your alarm clock. “You’re so smart, and—and sweet, and kind and…pretty. Did I say pretty yet?” 

“Yeah, I think you might’ve mentioned it.” Your mouth quirked into a warm smile at his drunken rambling. Even drunk, Peter knew how to make you feel loved beyond words. You switched off the lamp beside you, shrouding the room in darkness. The only light was the moon outside, and it washed over the softened angles of Peter’s face almost angelically. 

“Oh. Really? I don’t remember that.” He frowned, scratching his cheek aimlessly. Then he shrugged, picking up the edge of your blanket and shoving his lanky self under it, shimmying around until he was satisfied with his comfort. “Anyways, we’re atoms.” 

You had to stifle a laugh at his blunt statement. “What?” 

“Y’know, like, atoms? How they’re…what’s the fucking word, what’s the—oh! Attract! How they’re just, like, super attracted to each other.” He held one hand up above him, then the other a few inches away. “If this hand is you, and this hand is me, we’re like atoms. Attracted to each other.” He smacked his hands together, linking his fingers through each other. “You’d be a pretty atom.” 

“Pete, atoms repel each other once they get close enough.” 

Peter’s mouth dropped onto shocked ‘oh’, eyes widening. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you and—you and me, we’re meant to be together.” He turned his head to look at you, nearly going cross eyed at your close proximity. “Oh, hello! C’mere.” He pulled you into his arms without a second thought, tucking his chin over the top of your head and sighing contently. 

“I love you, you nerd,” You said softly, pressing a kiss against the hand closest to your face. When Peter didn’t respond after a few seconds, you furrowed your eyebrows, craning your neck to look up at him only to see that he’d already fallen fast asleep. You weren’t surprised, he’d been under a lot of stress lately and probably hadn’t been sleeping much because of it. 

All you could do was hope he’d sleep well here with you. 

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Hi jade <3 If you’re ever in the mood to write Peter, can I request a reader who’s scared of spiders & the irony of this is not lost on him but he’s still sweet and doesn’t hold it against her lol. Sending love!!

thank you for your request angel!! boyfriend!peter x fem!reader

Peter's skateboard sounds like a storm as he rolls in, wheels grinding the uneven asphalt path to his house. It thunks over the first paving stone. Peter hops off and kicks it up into his waiting hand smoothly. 

He smiles like he's being presented with a real treat. 

"Hey," he says, "did you text me?" 

You bump your knees together. Peter bends just a little at the waist to talk to you face to face where you perch.

"I called you, but I figured you'd be away from the phone," you say lightly. "What are you listening to?" 

Peter hands you his phone, tucking an earphone into your ear with practised ease, and stands, pulling the keys from his pocket. He makes a confused sound when the door locks rather than opens. 

"It's open?" he asks. 

"I used the spare key." You get to your feet, his music playing in your ear. "That's okay, right?" 

"That's why I told you where it is," he says fondly. He leans down to give you a quick kiss, his face lined with a usual playfulness, his smile laid over yours. "Why are we out here, then, waiting for me?" 

"Can you play the song you showed me on Friday?" you ask rather than hurt his feelings. 

"It's on there," he says. After a moment he ducks back to find it for you on his playlist, Is This It by The Strokes. He'd played it for you somewhere between heavy kisses and asking if you'd play with his hair. "Did you eat?" 

Peter pushes the front door open and tries to pull you in with him, his hand on your wrist amicably, more insistent when you don't follow. He grins at you, hands vying for your underarms. "Is this a new kind of game you want to play?" he asks.

You let him grab you, but plant your feet. His earphone pops from your ear to dangle between you, and he apologises unnecessarily. He gets so concerned over little things, you know he won't give you shit for why you'd really been outside, but that doesn't make telling him less humiliating.   

"Peter," you say, "don't laugh, but there was a really big spider in there, and I lost it, and I don't know where it went. I can't go back in there." 

Peter, to his credit, really doesn't laugh. "How big?"

You show him with your hand. He snorts, but when he looks up it's without any condescension. "You see the irony, right? I'm the biggest spider you're ever going to meet. You scared of me?" 

"No," you mumble, tilting your head back as he dips forward to kiss you under the ear. His arms wrap around your back and you let the entirety of your weight fall against him, a strange and intrinsic pleasure in knowing he wouldn't ever drop you. "You're not gonna bite me." 

He laughs into your neck. "I don't know… I could definitely bite you." 

"You're not venomous, though." 

Peter stands up and pulls you up to full height. "Where was it, pretty girl? I'll go catch it." 

"In the kitchen? I spilled a glass of water, sorry, it kind of shocked me." 

"It's okay. You're scared of spiders, you can't help it. I'll catch it and let it out here, how's that? Find something for us to listen to after, I was thinking we'd make fresh pasta?" He walks as he talks, disappearing into his house, voice bouncing off of the walls. "Where was it?" 

"By the sink," you call. 

"Top or underneath?" 

"By the faucets, Pete!" 

Peter opens a cabinet. There's quiet for a minute, a nerve-wracking silence that makes you think he's found it and is planning to sneak up on you with it, but there's a plastic sound and then he shouts, "I have it!" 

You scramble away from the door and Peter walks out with it slowly, palm sized spider with fierce looking legs and fangs trapped between a tupperware container and a place mat. Disgusted, you stand as far away from him as you can while he crosses the street and lets it out into the tall grass. 

He shows you the plastic is empty before he jogs at you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. He rubs the top of your arm. "Better?" he asks. 

Being scared of spiders feels juvenile, but the fear remains regardless of the attitude toward it, and his actual sincere care makes you love him even more. It's always evident how much Peter loves you, but especially now.

"Thank you," you say, going on toes to kiss his cheek. Your sneakers squeak as you keep up with him, following him back into the house. 

"Anything else you want me to do?" he asks, presenting his cheek proudly. "I like the reward. You smell really nice right now, what is that?"

"The pink one you got me. Love and Sugar, or something." 

He lifts his chin, as if to say, Kiss? You press another to his cheek over the first. He deserves more than kisses, but it's what you have. 

"I'm glad you're not scared of me," he says. 

"You're not scary." 

He raises his brows, looking down at you with the tip of his tongue pressed behind his top teeth. "Yeah?" he asks. 

You kiss his bottom lip, uncaring of his open mouth. "Not scary at all," you murmur. 

"Suddenly, I'm okay with that."