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moonstruckme · 1 month

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We have whimsical reader in marauders

We need one with tasm peter

Oorrrr

Can you imagine (or make) a witch/wizard reader with tasm peter!!???

Thanks for requesting love!

tasm!Peter Parker x whimsical!reader ♡ 679 words

Peter comes in through the window, more out of habit than anything else now that he’s not hiding anything from you, but you don’t startle. You’re sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor in front of the couch, flipping through what looks like his old physics textbook.

“Baby,” he says, “why was there an apple on the fire escape again?”

“It was still there?” You look up, disappointed to find a whole apple in your boyfriend’s hand. “I thought Ricardo would’ve gotten to it by now. I hope he’s okay.”

Peter scoffs, going into the kitchen to wash the apple and put it away. He scrubs it extra hard just in case the raccoon you’re set on befriending did get his grubby paws on it.

“Ricardo can eat without your help,” he says. “He’s hardy, he’s from Brooklyn.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but apples are his favorite.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, but you’re not looking, your attention on something in the book. “How do you know that?”

“He’ll let me pet him while he’s eating apples.”

He sighs, leaning his forearms on the counter. He’s going to have to find a way to move that raccoon to another neighborhood the next time he goes out. Before it gives you rabies.

“What’re you doing over there?” he asks you.

“Pressing flowers.”

“Yeah?” Peter rounds the counter, moving behind you to sit on the couch. His knees bracket your shoulders. The A/C is blasting to combat the summer heat, and goosebumps prickle down your arms. “What for?”

“I was thinking May could bring them to work,” you say, flattening a dandelion between two pieces of wax paper. The movements are deft and routined, and Peter wonders how many flowers are already enclosed between the pages. There’s a small pile of them sitting next to you, miraculously intact despite the fragile puffs. “She was telling me about some of the kids she works with last week. I thought they might like to have them.” You shrug. “For bookmarks or whatever.”

Peter’s insides go melty soft. “I’m sure they would.” He leans forward, setting his hand on your shoulder and his lips to your head. You only keep working. Sometimes Peter feels like a weird rock or a feather that you’d picked up somewhere, put in your pocket without a second thought. But you do love your rocks and feathers, so it’s not an awful fate. “Where’d you get these, sweetheart?”

“I found them,” you say simply. “Parks, sidewalks, you know. They grow anywhere. Do you think I should save a few in case they want to make wishes instead of keeping them?”

It’s said so seriously Peter can’t help but grin, turning so his cheek smushes into the crown of your head. “That seems like a good idea. Mind if I use one?”

“Of course.” You sound surprised. “Use as many as you want, Peter. I can always get more.”

“Just one is good.”

He slides off of the couch, sitting beside you and picking up a dandelion. He waits until you’re looking over at him before blowing.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the seeds rush towards you. Peter’s close enough that they get stuck in your eyelashes and eyebrows, a couple in your hair. His breath weakens as he starts laughing, the last few seeds coming off the flower by way of little puffs of air.

“You don’t have to blow it at someone,” you say, lips stretching into a pretty smile. You blink cautiously, opening your eyes once no dandelion fluff falls in.

He lowers the stem. “I just wanted to make sure my wish went in the right direction.”

Your head tilts. “What’d you wish for?”

Peter combs a bit of white fluff out of your hair, grinning. “C’mon, baby,” he tsks, shifting his fingers to your jaw. You’re pliant to the touch, angling your head at the slightest cue from him. You keep your eyes open, curious, but your lips are soft against his. “You know that’s not how it works. I’ve still gotta make sure it comes true.”

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kscheibles · 8 months

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e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos.

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them?

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes.

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder.

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party.

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance.

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples.

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to.

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome.

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta.

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough.

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before.

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic.

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles.

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier.

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication.

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar.

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak.

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again.

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don’t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me.

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin.

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured.

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose.

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember.

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters.

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

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photoboothphotos · 2 years

Text

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.”

With genuine hurt, Jake shot his friends an accusing look, “That’s crazy. I am a delight to meet, I can keep this profresh. It’s all of you making this unprofresh.” He huffed with frustration earning sympathetic gazes from the rest of the squad. Before anyone had the chance to add to the conversation, the room went quiet with Holt calling Jake towards his office before closing the door once more. Standing up, Peralta turned to the sargent with a smirk, “See! I am a delight.” With determination he marched to the Captain’s office, smoothing out his short-sleeved flannel.

“Jake, I’d like to meet (Y/N) H.C.” The Captain introduced the two of you with a gesturing hand.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jake Peralta. You must be the new sketch artist,” Jake stated proudly reaching for your hand and giving Holt a smug look, “What does the H.C. stand for, Honest Character? We sure need more of that around here.” The detective gave his superior another annoyed look, still frustrated from being kept out of the loop.

You looked between the officers, clearly you had stepped into a separate argument. Deciding to ignore the unknown elephant in the room you took Jake’s hand, giving him a shake. “No, it’s short for Holt-Cozner. I’m from the Seven-Three’s forensics division, my dad said you needed some help with the Davidson murder.” You clarified, with question taking over your voice. The silence ran thick throughout the office, both Holt and yourself confused beyond belief. You slowly retrieved your hand away from Jake’s when it was evident that he’d been shocked frozen.

“Your dad?” Jake quipped, bewildered by the fact.

“Yes,” Holt confirmed hesitantly, unsure of what had taken over his subordinate. “I had Santiago inform the team that my daughter would be visiting and helping you with the case.”

With twisted lips Jake shot a look at his desk, now crowded with snickering friends and an apologetic looking Boyle. Peralta knew this was payback for when he embarrassed his co-worker during last week’s briefing. In an awkward haste, Jake led you a spare room leaving you with no choice but to mumble a quiet “I’ll see you at dinner” to Holt before exiting.

You reviewed the photos and DNA evidence quietly, unsure of what was going through the detective’s mind. With a slight cough you cleared your throat before speaking, “It’s odd that there aren’t any fingerprints around the apartment that match the ones on the weapon,” you started “How did they enter the apartment in the first place? And even then, why not take the same precautions with handling the weapon. It’s like they’re a ghost and only moralized to kill the victim.”

Jake looked at you excitedly, a lightbulb illuminating in his head. “Because they were framed!” He yelled excitedly shuffling through the files bringing your attention to a picture of the apartment owner, “We dismissed this guy’s prints because it’s his apartment, but he must’ve blackmailed our suspect into putting his prints on the weapon – the suspect kept on saying he was there returning a favor, and that’s it.” The detective shook his head in disbelief, already over the embarrassing moment from earlier, “You’re a genius.”

“It was your solve detective, I’m just happy to help.” You smiled, getting ready to show yourself out.

“Wait, don’t you want to stay for the interrogation?” Jake asked, hoping he would have the opportunity to make up for his horrible first impression, “Or at least long enough for me to take you out for lunch?” He could tell that the latter offer took you by surprise. So, he offered you a welcoming arm, inviting you to link with it, “Do you like Pizza?”

The awkwardness from earlier had washed away as the two of you shared a laugh over two slices of New York’s finest pizza and ice-cold orange sodas. Jake had explained the entire situation from this morning and in return you had described to him your life with your dads: Raymond Holt and Kevin Cozner.

“You have the coolest dads ever,” Jake exclaimed taking another slice of pepperoni pizza. The cheese stretched as he placed the slice back down, “I can’t believe that this is the first time I’ve heard of you.”

You shook your head, laughing at the hanging cheese string dangling from Jake’s lips. You were thankful for the bright sun leaving a pink tint on your skin, effectively hiding your growing blush. Your dad had told you many stories about the detective. Nights of going on and on about his awful handwriting, his silliness during Halloween, and how he had set every precinct record since Holt had taken command. You had been curious about Peralta, but you would have never thought he’d be this charming. Maybe it was the romantic pop song playing on the radio, or the heat coming from the kitchen, but desire had bubbled in your heart, and you were itching for more time with him.

With his permission, you wiped off the extra sauce and cheese off the corner of Jake’s mouth, making you suddenly shy. “Yeah, and yet I’ve already learnt so much about you.”

Jake’s smile grew bigger, happy that he’d manage to turn the situation around. The way your sundress hiked up your legs had not left his mind since this morning. Though he felt himself enchanted to meet you, he knew with certainty that he wanted to go about this spontaneous date correctly – with you being the Captain’s daughter and all. He felt it in his gut that you were going to be a forever thing, and his gut feelings were always right. “To even it out, maybe I can learn more about you over drinks tomorrow at the bar?”

You leaned in gifting the detective a light kiss on his cheek, unable to resist those dimples for any longer than you already have, “It’s a date.”

And it was one of the best dates both of you had been on. From that day forward, Jake no longer wanted or needed to hit on other new hires, not with you and your sundresses frequenting the precinct. The squad had grown fond of your budding relationship, with even the Captain showing signs of enthusiasm. As Jake meet you downstairs for another summer night of exploring the city, he thought to himself about how lucky he was to have been pranked by his friends that morning.

#jake peralta blurb #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x y/n #jake peralta #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta fanfic #jake peralta oneshot #jake peralta drabble #jake peralta fiction #jake peralta fluff

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equallyshaw · 6 months

Text

my new york girl | adam fantilli

a fantilli x oc !

@tinafromny: new yorker in ohio part 1/?

4.5k likes, 209 comments.

|| @lhughes_06: im a meme...?

@tinafromny: yes sir u are 🦅

@edwards.73: am I a babygirl ?

@tinafromny: ew gross

@dylanduke25: the last one 🥺

@tinafromny: ik the carhartt .. so American

@adamfantilli: loml

@tinafromny: babygirl

@edwards.74: TINA

@tinafromny: ETHAN

@childrenoftheyost: we'll we get a tina from NY sighting soon?

@tinafromny: yknow it! have to see baby luca 🙈

@luca.fantilli: im not the baby...

@tinafromny: when you can grow a beard better than a...snap me

@luca.fantill: ADAM

@adamfantilli: ?

@gavin.brindley: baby luca 🫶🏻

@tina'sbff: Tina in ohio pt 1/1 u can never leave me again

@tinafromny: ummmmmmmm

@tina'sbff: she has a flight booked already i presume @adamfantilli

@adamfantilli: 🙃🙃

@parsonsny: Tina from ny is serving in the first and third 😌

@tinafromny: love y'all to jupitar and back !

@dylanduke25: did you have fun tho?

@tinefromny: its Ohio dyl...you cant possibly have fun in that state

@tylerduke: RUDE-- youre uninvited to the lake this summer

@alyssa_duke: wait but I like her??

@tinafromny: hi guys I went back (:

7.8k likes, 455 comments.

@lhughes_06: why everytime i come here i am abused

@tinafromny: because ur u and im me

@tinafromny: also ur an easy target

@dylanduke25: she said what she said

@gavin.brindley: the 4th is giving

@adamfantilli: its giving 'im running on 0 coffee this morning'

@Nolan_moyle: MOOSE

@seamscasey26: MOOSEY

@mackie.samo: he's passenger princess?

@tinafromny: yes bc he scares me when driving...as do all Canadians driving in this god for saken country

@tina'sbff: thats the new yorker in ya

@tinafromny: in the most brooklyn accent

@adamfantilli: passenger princess for life🥺

@lianabarzal: need u back in ny and get ur cute butt to long island

@tinafromny: omg babe yes -- im comin!

@adamfantilli: come back

@tinafromyny: I promise soon bubs

@nickblankenburg: pls do...he looks like a sad and wet puppy

@rutgetmcgroarty: the michigan hat...come back soon adam 🥺

@adamfantilli: soon!

@johnnyorlando: he's just ... ken (?) and youre barbie

@tinafromny: yeah and thats why he's not allowed inside my apt

@tina'sbff: he would moja doja house it so badly...

@tinafromny: we've already have enough rats in NY we don't need one inside

@adamfantili: blocking u rn

@luca.fantilli: ur a rat ada

@tinafromny: my rat ;)

@adamfantilli: love me some ny

87.9k likes, 1.2k comments.

@tinafromny: oh woah -- a hard launch?

@adamfantilli: ofc

@tinafromny: i feel so seen

@adamfantilli: anything for my love

@luca.fantilli: did you seriously have to steal my bestie ?

@adamfantilli: did you have to steal my girl????

@tinafromny: omg

@tinafromny: guys guys i can be two places at once !

@edwards.74: time travelor!!!!

@tinafromny: nah im just an avid ft user

@johnnyorlando: and insta liver

@tinafromny: yeah...because u won't let adam give me your # so buh bye orlando

@johnnyorlando: I have good reasons

@adamfantilli: take this to the live pls

@johnnyorlando: they grow up so fast 😢

@Luca.fantill: ur crying? im crying

@tinafromny: can confirm

@tina'sbff: ur alright canadian dude

@adamfantilli: ur alright too pigeon

@tinafromny: LONG LIVE MY PIGEON

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope you all enjoyed! please like and reblog if you did !!!

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tags: @jayda12 @cuttergauthier @slafgoalskybaby

#adam fantilli #adam fantilli x oc #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli fic #michigan hockey #luca fantilli #ethan edwards #gavin brindley #johnny orlando

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 8 months

Note

Hey! For your Miles requests, I'd love to read about what it might be like for the reader to watch Miles transfer to Visions if they both went to Brooklyn Middle together.

Not This Time

Miles Morales x fem!reader

Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Requested: yes

A/N: GUYS PARTICIPATE IN MY 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL PLEASE also hope you guys enjoy electro because I had to make something up.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“You’re not gonna forget me right?” You wondered.

It was the last week of summer and you were clinging to the last few days you had left with Miles. Sitting on his building’s rooftop you stared down at the Brooklyn you’ve known your whole life. You and Miles were the fastest of friends since your first day at Brooklyn Middle you genuinely couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day. You were still proud of him, however. Getting into Visions was a pretty big deal.

“Why would you ask me that?” He glanced at you offended.

You simply shrugged, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I dunno, you’ll go and make new friends and I won’t be so important anymore,”

“No,” He shook his head, turning to face you. “That would never happen,”

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact.

“I’d never forget you,” He promised.

The first week of freshman year was finally over. It wasn’t as bad as your middle school teachers tried to make it seem, you’d made a couple of new friends, and none of your teachers were mean.

Realizing you hadn’t spoken to Miles yet today you pulled your phone out to message him.

you: how was your first week?

miles: my science teacher was on my ass but my roommates not bad

miles: he doesn’t talk much

you: i told you, you’d be fine

you: wanna go the end show w/me tonight in golconda

you: it’s at 7

miles: im sorry I cant :( too much hw

you: oh no don’t worry maybe next time

Putting your phone back down on your desk with a huff you tried not to feel disappointed. There would be other opportunities to hang out. It’s not like this was the end of your friendship.

The excuses and cancellations only grew in numbers. Soon you’d gone from seeing Miles every day to barely holding a virtual conversation once a week.

You weren’t going to sit around and wait for the crumbs of attention Miles was willing to give you. This would not be a one-sided relationship, you had too much self-respect for that.

But just because you weren’t actively talking doesn’t mean you didn’t care. You’d just care from afar.

—————-

You weren’t one to watch the news but the TV was open to Channel 12 when you made it home from running errands. Placing your grocery bags on the couch something compelled you to tune in.

Seeing PDNY cars surrounding a crazed man wielding what looked to be lightning bolts sent you into a state of controlled panic. You practically sped to Miles’s apartment to check on Mr. Morales.

He wasn’t there when you got to the apartment but Rio informed you he was okay and she’d just spoken to him on the phone.

Letting out a sigh of relief you relaxed your shoulders. Slumping to sit down next to her on the couch she gave you a once-over

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. How’s high school?” She asked, now getting a better look at you.

“It’s definitely different,”

“We’ve missed you around here, Miles has been acting so different lately, he’s not my little boy anymore,” She sighed wistfully.

“I miss you guys too,” You pouted.

You didn’t want to get emotional but you really did miss your second family. And you weren’t trying to take it personally but Miles avoiding you truly hurt. “It’s so weird not seeing Miles anymore,”

“Seeing him a couple times a week must be very different from every day,”

A couple times a week? You hadn’t seen him at all this month. Even if you were pissed at him you didn’t want him in trouble so you just agreed.

“Yeah, I’m still not used to it.”

You weren’t leaving until you saw for yourself that Mr. Morales was okay. Your stubbornness and unwillingness to take things as you’re told kept you from being able to fully believe Mrs. Morales’s promise of her husband’s safety. Anything could’ve happened between their phone call and now.

Waiting on the couch listening to Mrs. Morales talk about work and her conniving coworkers. You felt the most at peace as you’ve had in a while.

The peace didn’t last long as Miles came bursting through the front door adorning his red and black jacket with oversized sweats and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Mrs. Morales immediately stood up and moved towards him, the picture of concern.

“Mijo, what’s wrong, what are you doing here it’s a school night?”

Instead of answering her he just threw himself into her arms and wilted into her chest.

From your place on the couch, you couldn’t hear the muffled conversation or anything at all, which only amplified your worry.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You found yourself calling out standing from your spot on the sofa.

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his reprieve. Miles pulled his head from the crook of his mother's neck. He let his eyes roam over you attempting to assess if you were real or not.

Once he decided his eyes weren’t deceiving him he practically launched himself into your arms.

You stumbled back with the force of his weight and despite your anger and confusion, you hugged him back.

Evidently, something was wrong but he wasn’t going to talk about it anytime soon. You tried to hold out and let him feel his emotions but-

“Miles,” You wheezed out into his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you the slightest bit but didn’t let you go.

“Sorry,” He muttered to the top of your head. “Missed you so much,”

“Missed you too,”

As much as you loved Mrs. Morales, she was a chismosa and every conversation was not for her ears.

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested grabbing his arm to pull you with him.

You hadn’t made the climb to the water tower in a while and you weren’t as fit as you were a month ago. Trying to hide it out of embarrassment you switched the topic.

“You cold?” You asked panting as you found your footing.

“What?” He questioned looking down at himself.

As if he just discovered the zip-up he was wearing he answered. “Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s really chilly out here,”

Even without the years of knowing Miles under your belt, you would’ve known he was lying but you didn’t feel like starting an argument the first time you saw him in a while so you just dropped it.

The two of you easily fell back into the swing of things as if there were never any distance between the two of you. You were glad to be talking again, now knowing his issue wasn’t due to anything you’d done.

He was catching you up on everything you’d missed in his life when he went ghost on you, but he still wasn’t hinting at what was bothering him. He was using you as an alibi and not even telling you, it was so unlike him.

Even his mom noticed a change in his behavior so why wouldn’t he just talk to you? You had to bring it up or you’d regret it once you’d gotten home.

“You know you can tell me anything right?”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

You should be furious he’d ghosted you for so long. And now he won’t even talk to you? but looking at him now he looked so upset and broken you couldn’t feel anything besides concern.

“Miles please, tell me what’s going on,” You begged. “We tell each other everything,” It was true you even told him when you had started your first period the summer before 7th grade. You never felt the need to hide anything from each other. So why start now? What happened between the start of high school to now to make him stop trusting you?

“Is it me? Can you just not tell me?” You attempted to rationalize his behavior.

“It’s not you,” He promised.

“So then talk to me please,” You whined.

“I can’t tell you. Not this time,”

The last person to learn he was Spider-Man died. In the same month, he watched Spider-Man and his uncle die in right front of him. All his other friends left him and maybe it was selfish but you were the only one he had left. He refused to lose you or have you look at him differently. Maybe telling you would lift some of the burden of having a secret identity as just a child, but he couldn’t risk it. Not this time. Not with you.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

#hannah speaks ღ #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales angst #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fluff #miles morales

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cabinofimagines · 5 months

Text

Cocoa Chronicles

I'm always happy to get a request from the Kane Chronicles or Magnus Chase so of course I would write this one! I hope y'all enjoy :) Pairing: Carter Kane x gn!reader (platonic) Request: Carter with a reader who always has a cup of hot cocoa in hand, no matter the situation nor season? This is my first time requesting to you guys specifically 😅 Also your fics are amazing! Word count: 0.8k Warnings: none! I dunno, reader drinks diary- -Asnyox

Ever since last summer, Carter had a new found suspicion of you. He knew you liked hot cocoa - the winter prior had consisted of so many cups of hot chocolate that Carter was almost considering staging an intervention for you. Almost. However, last summer he went on a quest with you, in the middle of the desert, and during your lunch break you took out a thermos from your bag, filled with hot cocoa. You offered him a cup, but he kindly refused and offered you a cooler beverage (you know, water) instead. Yet - later that day you encountered a bunch of monsters, and instead of having to fight them, you fed them your cocoa and they relented.

Ever since then, he had been paying closer attention to your cocoa habits. Indeed, you had hot chocolate on you at all times. At another point, a few weeks after the last quest, the two of you were stumped on a puzzle. As you do, you had gotten out your hot chocolate and you accidentally spilled some on the floor.

That led to a clue, as the beverage sank into some slits in the floor, revealing hieroglyphs. Carter, who seconds before would have scolded you for not being careful, instead appraised your hot cocoa. Carter considered whether your cocoa, or maybe even thermos, was magical, but maybe the inherent comfort of a hot cup of a beverage might just be magical enough.

And he was thankful for your seemingly endless stash of hot chocolate when both of you got caught up in a snowstorm. Luckily, this time you weren’t on a quest, just simply locked in Brooklyn House, with everyone a little miffed that they couldn’t go outside. You quickly jumped to the occasion, and started asking everyone if they wanted a hot chocolate. Carter offered to help you prepare - maybe he wanted to see whether you would simply pour all the cups out of your usual thermos. Sadly, you had put a pan on the stove, and grabbed different chocolates out of the cabinet. So, instead he decided to simply ask.

“What’s the deal with you and hot chocolate?” “You want my recipe?” you asked, fully prepared to explain all the steps. “Uh- yeah that too but,” Carter hesitated, “You’re always drinking hot cocoa, like this summer you had it on you too!” “Well what do I say,” you smiled, “I just love the taste that it has! Plus hot chocolate always gives me comfort.” Carter nodded in understanding. “So no magical thermos?” He asked, “It’s just your favorite drink?” You laughed. “Why would my thermos be magical?” you shook your head, “It truly is just my favorite drink, Carter.” you pondered for a moment, as you stirred the milk, “But if you do find a magical thermos, give it to me?” as you looked at him, Carter nodded. You smiled as you went back to explaining your recipe to Carter.

A little while later, the entirety of Brooklyn House was sitting together in front of the television, with a random movie on the screen.

A while later, you simply weren’t having a good day. Got bad news, had too many things to do, bad nights sleep and the Brooklyn House was out of ingredients for chocolate milk. You really weren’t feeling it anymore, and decided to just lock yourself in your room. You were scrolling on your phone, when there was a knock on your door.

“(Y/n)?” the voice of Carter came from the other side, “Can I come in?” You sighed as you stood up, and opened the door for him. He smiled at you. “Do you have a moment? I would like to show you something.” He held out his hand, and you reluctantly grabbed it, as you then followed him.

He led you to the roof of Brooklyn house, where there were a bunch of pillows on the floor, and most importantly, two big, steaming cups of hot cocoa.

“I thought we were out of ingredients,” was the first comment you made as you laid your eyes on the cups. “We were, but I figured I would get you some,” Carter shrugged, “Sadie mentioned you were looking rough today. This isn’t much, but I hope it helps.”

As you sat down, with Carter next to you, the last sunbeams of the evening warming you, you felt a little weight lift from your shoulders.

“It does, Carter, thank you.” you sipped your hot chocolate, “You should’ve used more chocolate though, but it’s a good attempt.” “I tried my best,” Carter grumbled and you laughed. “You’re a good friend,” you smiled, “Not yet a master hot drink maker though, but a good friend.”

#request #requests #kane chronicles #x reader #reader insert #carter kane x reader #platonic #imagine #one shot #kane chronicles x reader #knc #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #cabinofimagines #fluff #admin asnyox #admin asja

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the-invisible-queer · 27 days

Text

15 Questions For 15 Friends

Thanks for the tag @cherry-harrison !

Are you named after anyone? My mom named me after a character in a book that got SAed. Just because she loved the name. Also my middle name is Rose and my paternal grandma was Rosa but my parents swear they didn't do that on purpose.

When was the last time you cried? Literally 30 minutes ago vecause my family sucks and likes to make me feel like I'm pathetic but what's new?

Do you have kids? Nope and probably never will. I do have a godson who I adore.

What sports do you play/have you played? When I was 11ish my brothers and I were on a soccer team at our church called Holy Sweat. So soccer. We did it for a whole summer and they never picked it back up but that's why soccer is one of only 2 sports I can follow.

Do you use sarcasm? Only with my brothers really and my bestie's fiance. I feel like it's rude outside of speaking to those three men.

What's the first thing you notice about people? I get a vibe from most people immediately when I meet them. Decide if I want this person in my life or not.

What's your eye color? Brown

Scary movies or happy endings? Neither. Give me two fucked up characters who shouldn't be together but are stuck together because of the narrative like in Monday

Any talents? Writing? But that's less of a talent and more of a skill I've been leveling up for almost 20 years. I used to play clarinet and I won a talent show for it.

Where were you born? BROOKLYN BABEYYY

What are your hobbies? Writing, researching random history topics. Does zoning out to Smosh videos on YouTube count as a hobby?

Do you have any pets? Not currently. The only pets I've had in the past were two hermit crabs named Stripes and Ricochet. Ricochet had the Puerto Rican flag painted on his shell which is why we picked him.

How tall are you? 5'4. I'm only 2 inches shorter than Nick Jonas.

Favorite subject in school? History. I'm a nerd.

Dream job? I'd love to do anything with writing. I wanted to be a journalist for a long time. HOWEVER what I went to school for (before dropping out twice) was history because I wanted to be a historian/museum director. Like I fully wanted to get my PhD and be the nerd that rambles in documentaries about their area of expertise.

I don't have 15 friends but I do have active mutuals who I adore 🥰

@lklvz @joejonas--tea @baubeautyandthegeek @redvanillabee @funkylittledemon @meri47 @morriganwarrior

And of course anyone who wants to do it is welcome to! Consider yourself tagged because I can't remember anyone else 😭

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 9 months

Text

Irresistible

Pairing: Joe KeeryxFemReader

Request: Can you write smut for Joe Keery where you both have went out to dinner with friends and tease each other all night under the table and finally get to the car and 🥵

18+ Only

“How’s the new summer home?” asked Natalia, taking a sip of her wine, the four of you enjoying a drink after the delicious meal you’d just enjoyed together.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” you crooned with a grin. “It’s in Brewster, right along the beach. You should see the wildflowers. The couple who owned the house before us loved to landscape and the gardens are beautiful. Joe got us one of those hammock swing chairs and I love spending my afternoons just curled up in it with a good book. The views are spectacular.”

“Reading isn’t the only thing we’ve done in that hammock,” Joe whispered in your ear so only you could hear, his large hand landing on your thigh.

You smacked him playfully as you continued, “Spending the last month there has been a dream. Los Angeles is so chaotic. It’s been nice to slooo….” Your breath caught, voice rising an octave as calloused fingertips danced over your bare skin, darting just under the hem of your dress.

“I’m sorry?” laughed Charlie. “You okay over there?”

“Mmmhmm,” you managed, nodding. Shooting daggers at Joe, you swallowed hard, fighting back your body’s desire to moan with pleasure as their fingers crept higher, along your inner thigh. Joe smirked at you. Jerk. Two could play this game. “I was saying…” You placed your own hand on his stomach and his eyebrows lifted. “It’s been so…” You cleared your throat as he brushed over the lace of your panties. “It’s been nice to slow down.”

“I get that,” Natalia nodded, smiling, completely unaware of the way Joe’s fingers were now slipping your panties to the side, index lazily running along your folds, teasing. Having no idea that your hand was working at the button on his pants before slipping into his waistband, running over his length, causing his entire body to tense next to you. “Charlie and I love Brooklyn but it’s always nice to get away from the insanity that is the big city and just unwind for a bit.”

“Yeah, and the insanity that is everything you do plastered all over social media,” Charlie added.

“Yeah,” Joe piped up, brown eyes usually so full of light now dark and dangerous as he battled against the way you moved over him, his cock now hard as steel in your hand. “But you two seem to do pretty good with avoiding them.”

“We try,” Charlie laughed, “but they’re damn vultures.”

“Yeah. Did you know there were rumors that we split because no one had a picture of us for a while?” Natalia laughed. “Heaven forbid we just want to be alone and away from the cameras.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, biting your bottom lip, fighting back the urge to grind against Joe’s hand, fingers that had been teasing your clit now slipping inside you. Jesus, the things this man did to your body. Who gave a fuck about this dinner anymore? You wanted to drag him out of here by that lucious head of hair and have your way with him where you could be as loud as you damn well pleased.

“I mean, how long did it take them to find out you two were dating?” asked Charlie. “I swear it was only a couple weeks before your faces were plasters on the internet.”

“Three weeks,” you squeaked out, forcing a smile when Joe’s fingers curled inside of you. If he didn’t calm down, your friends were going to know exactly what was going on under this table. Joe watched you with amusement but you could see the struggle he was having in the press of his lips, the way his jaw twitched, his other hand gripping his wineglass hard. You ran your thumb over the tip of his cock and he jerked slightly, knee hitting the table loudly.

“Are you two okay?” asked Natalia, eyes full of concern. “You seem a little off…”

“Yeah, just…we’ve got this thing I’ve just remembered,” Joe suddenly said, hand slipping from your panties. “I’m so sorry. It’s, uh…”

“My mom!” you yelled out, catching onto what he was doing. “My mom is coming into town tonight. She wants to see the new beach house and I completely forgot.”

“Oh…” Natalia frowned. “Well, okay.”

“I am so sorry to cut our evening short,” you told her and you were, truly, but if you didn’t get Joe’s cock in you soon, you were sure your body would implode with need.

“Well, if you guys are going to be in Massachusetts for a while, we should meet up again,” Charlie told you both. “Maybe we could come down in a couple weeks and see the house ourselves.”

“Absolutely!” Joe exclaimed, a little too loudly, causing the couple to jump. “I’ll call you!”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as you called bye to your friends with a wave. Charlie and Natalia waved back, still confused at what had just transpired but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. You’d call her tomorrow and smooth it all over. Joe dragged you to the car and then your back was pressed up against it, arched against the curve, his mouth on yours, tongue licking down your throat, hands roaming over your dress.

Six months of this man. Six months of sex with this man and still you could not get enough. Your fingers tangled in that beautiful hair, leg lifting and hooking around his hip, pulling him against you, both of you moaning at the feel of his erection pressing against your center that was practically an inferno of desire at this point.

Joe fumbled behind you, grasping at the door handle of the backseat. “Can’t wait to get home,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Lay down in the back, pretty girl, and take those panties off for me.”

You did as you were told, scooching yourself back until your head and neck were propped against the opposite door. Reaching under your dress, you pulled your panties down over your ankles, dropping them on the floor and spread your legs wide for him, lifting your dress up over your waist, exposing you to his feasting eyes.

“Jesus,” he groaned, working at his pants, pushing them down to his ankles as he climbed in over you, struggling to close the door behind him. His tongue flattened, running over your pussy and you shuddered, crying out. He exhaled and you were so worked up, feeling you could cum just from his breath over your heat. “I need to fuck you so badly, baby.”

“Yes,” you breathed, fisting his shirt, pulling him up to you. “God, yes.”

Joe’s face pressed against your neck as he slid into you, both of you moaning in sweet release at finally getting what you’d been needing. He placed one hand on the window above you, the other gripping your hip under your dress as he began to move, rutting deep within you.

“I needed you so damn bad,” Joe muttered. “When you came out in that dress, it was all I could fucking think about. I just couldn’t help myself at the table. I had to touch you, baby.”

“Jesus Christ, Joe,” you gasped, hands grabbing his ass, pulling him deeper within you. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, head dipping down to nip at your earlobe. “Tell me, baby. What do I do to you?”

You struggled through the fog of your building orgasm, trying to grasp the words through the haze, “You make me feel so good, Joe. You drive me crazy. I couldn’t…” You cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he pulled the skin just behind your ear between his lips. “I couldn’t focus. I didn’t care about dinner anymore. I just needed you. You’re the only fucking thing I need.”

“That’s right, angel. I am the only thing you’ll ever need because I will always give you what you need,” he rumbled, tongue running down the side of your neck as his hips slammed into you hard, the door digging into your skin. “And you are all I need. Fuck, you make me so happy.”

“Joe…shit…baby…” you whimpered.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby? That’s it. That’s my girl,” he soothed. “Let me feel you, pretty girl.”

“Oh Joe!” you screeched, nails digging into the flesh of his ass as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body trembled beneath him.

“Yes, angel. That’s my girl. Oh fuck, baby, I am so close…fuck…” he muttered, rocking against you, forehead pressed against yours. “The way you’re pulling me in…I can’t…fuck!”

Joe collapsed on top of you, head resting on your chest as he struggled to catch his breath. You weren’t sure if you could move, your body like ice cream on a hot day, all melty and gooey, unable to form a shape. It was always like this with him. Joe brought you to levels of pleasure you didn’t even know were possible.

“Mmm…” he rumbled in satisfaction, kissing your collarbone. “I’m so glad we skipped out on dessert. This was so much better.”

“So much better,” you agreed with a blissed out smile.

#joe keery fanfiction #joe keery x reader #joe keery smut #joe keery fic #joe keery #smut requests #request #smut

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freshthoughts2020 · 1 year

Audio

(THE CORNER® | OPEN MANUAL AUDIO VISUAL)

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lowkeycasanova · 1 year

Text

Waiting on you

based off "When you're ready" by Shawn Mendes

"I was selfish for being with him. I was in a really bad place and it started to affect my, our, relationship. So I took a step back. Vinnie waited for me, as he always promised. We came back when we were both ready."

He probably had one too many drinks, but fuck it. It was what he needed right now.

Everyone sat around the fire pit, talking, laughing, playing the guitar a little bit. A way to celebrate the purchase of the new house, it was like a small house warming party with all of them together. Jett found out that you were going to be in the area for the first time in forever, so he invited you last second. Vinnie didn’t even know you were going to be here until he saw Jett greeting you at the front door a few hours prior.

When your eyes met and he saw the gentle glow from the fire illuminate your face, it was a solid reminder that you were in fact sitting across from him.

You were able to see Jack and Jett again, along with his girlfriend, and you got to meet their new friends Adam, Max, Max’s girlfriend Maykayla and her friend Taylor.

The night continued into early morning as you caught up with the people you knew and got to know the ones you didn’t. Even finding yourself looking at Vinnie from time to time.

Jack then announced that he was tired and would he going inside. One by one, everyone else went after him. You lagged behind picking up the drink glasses and other items. Although you really didn’t need to since you were the guest, but you didn’t mind.

After picking them up and setting them down in the kitchen, you wiped your hands on your pants.

“I wish I’d known you were gonna be here.”

Your body went stiff and you looked over and saw Vinnie standing in the doorway, seemingly hesitant like he didn’t want to walk in, until he did, taking a deep breath.

“I assumed Jett was going to tell you.” You replied.

Vinnie nodded understandingly and walked up to the kitchen island where he stood across from you. You two stared at each other for a moment. It’s really something how much people can change in Beale two years.

“How have you been?” He finally asked.

“Good. School’s been school. What about you. I heard about you joining one hundred thieves a while ago.”

“It’s pretty fun. We’re actually filming something in a couple days.”

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, like that was gonna stop your heart from beating fast. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He whispered. “Sorry for the way it ended.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You told him and he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

—

The last time you saw Vinnie was over a year and a half ago. You had met Vinnie through mutual friends, and you two were closest out of everyone.

It was more than a summer time fling. With you and Vinnie in close proximity all day and doing nearly everything together, it's like it solidified the interest you felt in one another.

Strange, because you both had told yourselves previously that you didn't want a relationship at the moment. Although you never told each other that.

It was when you went back home to Brooklyn when things started to fall apart.

How naïve of you two to think that the long distance thing would work.

Not only the distance and time zone difference, but you were both becoming busier with your respective schedules: you with school and him with social media, gaming and modeling.

Texting and facetiming everyday made it more bearable. You couldn't visit LA that much because of how demanding your school schedule was, so Vinnie came to New York as often as he could. But it wasn't the same. Mentally and emotionally, you didn't think you could do it, and that killed you. You couldn't be a good girlfriend to him right now.

"I wanna be with you, but I don't wanna hurt you." you had told him the last time he came to see you.

The tears in his eyes broke the surface and they ran down his face silently. He sniffed and looked up in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"You know I love you." he whispered. "I flew to New York to get you back and I'd do it again."

He thought about that day often. He was confused, and sometimes angry. That maybe you were lying to him. That you were just trying to not hurt his feelings, but you'd get with someone else soon after.

But deep down, he knew you better than that.

In the following time after you officially parted ways, you saw so much of Vinnie's success online. How much he's done. He was even in New York just a couple weeks ago. Yes, you were a little disappointed at first that he didn't reach out, but you understood why he didn't. It wouldn't have been fair to either of you. And now you were right in front of him, but you didn't want to throw yourself at him in any way.

Your whole body seemed to be vibrating with energy.

"So..." he started. "You in a relationship or anything?"

You shook your head no and looked down. "You?"

"No," he mumbled and looked out to the darkness through the kitchen window. You don't know how you would feel if Vinnie were to have feelings strong enough to be with someone else. But you weren't in a place to judge.

You cleared your throat. "Well, what about Taylor?" you suggested, referring to Makayla's friend. "She seems interested in you."

By the look on his face, you knew it was a ridiculous proposition.

"Not at all." he said quickly. "I mean, she comes over a lot. And, we didn't sleep together or anything...but we made out heavily once."

Your eyes widened. "Why would you mess with her?”

Vinnie scoffed. "I told her from the jump I wasn't into her like that. But she's actually good at getting us drunk."

He came closer next to you, close enough to where your arms touched and he crossed his arms over his chest.

You tsked and turned from him, fiddling with the glasses. He took one and dried it off for you.

“I got it.”

He shrugged. “It’s my house. It’s the least I could do.”

"Maybe you could work it out with her." You said, going back to the previous subject. "Have you ever thought about-"

"No." he cut you off.

"But I mean-"

"What?" he asked as his eyes burned into yours. "You think I wanna settle? Just be in a relationship since it's better than nothing?"

"Well in general, if you like someone, don't let our past hold you back."

"Hold me back? That's exactly what I wanted. You told me that you couldn't be with me because of where we were at the time. So I waited. I figured one day we would both be ready to come back together. I didn't wanna be with someone else because it was 'good enough' at the time."

The kitchen lights then turned on rather suddenly, you and Vinnie both blinking to adjust to the harsh light.

Jett stood at the entryway, staring back at you both.

"It's late." Jett simply stated, but his facial features let you know that he was about to ask more questions.

"Yeah it is." you agreed before he could say anything else. You glanced at Vinnie briefly before walking away, and you heard his footsteps behind you.

And knowing Vinnie, he'd be knocking on your door to finish this conversation.

#vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x y/n #vinnie fluff

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mariacallous · 9 months

Text

“Barbenheimer”—the collective celebration around the release of the Barbie and Oppenheimer movies—has collided with the wedding industrial complex. That’s not a joke. According to a Variety story this week, people are planning on taking their friends and family, prenuptials, to see the two films as a double feature. People who aren’t getting married are planning similar movie-watching marathons. It’s the kind of viral cultural moment marketing teams dream of. It also feels like a sign of the end times.

This sense of dread doesn’t stem from the public’s collective yearning to absorb stories about a Mattel doll and the development of atomic weapons at the same time. It’s because this weekend promises the kind of “let’s all go to the movies!” hype (and box office haul) that cinemas haven’t seen since before the Covid-19 pandemic shut theaters down—and it’s happening as Hollywood is going on strike.

This week, WIRED rolled out a series of stories detailing what we believe the future of entertainment might entail. The purpose was to look at how all aspects of culture, from books to video games to YouTube, could be impacted by advancements in technology. As we worked on it, though, something happened: Contract talks between Hollywood studios and the writers and actors unions began to break down. One of the major sticking points in those negotiations was the use of artificial intelligence in movie- and TV-making. Suddenly, as Madeline Ashby wrote in her essay this week, the world was in the midst of Hot Strike Summer.

Then, Hot Strike Summer slammed into the Barbenheimer moment. Once the Screen Actors Guild—American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, or SAG-AFTRA, called for a walkout, stars could no longer smile on red carpets without looking like scabs. The stars of Oppenheimer walked out of the film’s London premiere when the strike began. The cast and filmmakers behind Barbie, which premiered before SAG called for a strike, voiced their support. Soon, “This Barbie Is Now on Strike” became the headline, transforming one of the world’s most well-known figurines into Norma Rae. The marquee at my local theater in Brooklyn listed both movies alongside the phrase “Atomic Kenergy,” while The New York Times asked, “Can I Watch ‘Barbenheimer’ Despite the Hollywood Strikes?” (Short answer: Yes.)

To that end, the strikes will not affect Oppenheimer or Barbie’s opening weekend box office numbers. Earlier this week, AMC Entertainment reported that some 40,000 people had bought tickets for both films, and together they’re estimated to make around $150-200 million domestically, with Greta Gerwig’s send-up of the Mattel doll bringing in a bigger chunk than Christopher Nolan’s historical drama about the man behind the atomic bomb.

But what matters is what happens after this weekend. By all accounts, Hot Strike Summer seems poised to last beyond one season. Even before SAG went on strike, studio sources were telling reporters that the plan was to let the strike “drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses.” In response to that, actor Ron Perlman took to social media to say “listen to me, motherfucker—there’s a lot of ways to lose your house.” He later walked that back, but when Hellboy enters the chat, you know it’s not going to end gently.

The longer writers and actors are on strike, the bigger the hole next summer or the summer after that, when the movies that would be filming right now aren’t ready. (Deadpool 3 and the sequel to Mission: Impossible—Dead Reckoning Part One, for example, are both currently on hold.) Cinemas have been bouncing back in the years since Covid restrictions were lifted and people began feeling comfortable in movie houses again. A lackluster year brought on by a dearth of films could prove detrimental.

Yesterday, Comic-Con International began in San Diego. Typically, or at least before the pandemic, the event has been full of panels with flashy stars promoting their next big movie or TV series. As long as SAG is on strike, those celebs won’t show. Some attendees will likely welcome the event’s return to its comics roots, rather than the Hollywood hype-fest it has become. But no matter what happens, it will be unlike any Comic-Con in recent memory. Maybe a little less plastic, but not fantastic.

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onigirio · 1 year

Note

I might as well beg you to make a series of headcanons of Percy and Sunny please. I’m invested now 😭what about them going on a quest??

a/n: this is not my best work! you wanted headcanons but this is some kind of hc-one shot hybrid😭 i still hope you enjoy <3

with a lot of struggle

you FINALLY finished your school year

the bell had barely rung and you were already dashing out of the school

your mom was waiting in the parking lot with your camp bags

“am i still picking up percy?” “no that loser went early”

you were still a bit salty about it

you made a playlist for the car ride

party of one </3

now your mom was gonna berate you for your report card

after a bit of driving (and a lot of back and forth between you and your mom)

you finally got to camp!!!

you had barely managed to drag yourself across the threshold of camp before you heard a familiar voice

“SUNNY’S HERE” will yelled

as much as he annoyed you, will was like your little brother

you care about him a lot, and he’s always gonna be your number one

percy is still a little salty about that

SPEAKING OF PERCY

you can barely greet him before he’s tackling you with a hug and peppering your face with kisses

this is not a surprise for campers since percy has been counting the hours until you would be at camp

“only 76 more hours” “until what?” “until i can hug sunny again”

poor boy missed you so much

he went to your spring show, and that was the last time he saw you before he was called to camp

that was about 3 weeks ago

as much as you called on IM, you missed him a lot

but now you’re back at camp together!

he helps you with your bags and he’s extra careful with your guitar

“PRECIOUS CARGO COMING THROUGH!”

you can’t tell if he’s talking about you or the guitar

when the stoll twins almost set your hair alight with a flaming arrow

you realize he’s talking about you

“sorry sun-“ “WATCH IT”

percy has made you into a minor camp celebrity

except for during capture the flag

when you guys are on opposite teams? GOOD LUCK

you’re always on defense because you have a little bit of foresight

you can’t see that far into the future, but you have a sort of spidey sense

your sunny sense

so you’re always left around the flag for good measure

no matter what, percy has never been able to capture the flag when you’re on guard

“percy coming in at 3 o’clock” “what?” “bro just trust me”

they shot and pinned percy to a tree

sunny is never wrong

you have a tally going for how many times you’ve shot at percy

it’s a lot

games aside, you’re just happy to be back at camp

just peace and quiet

until chiron called you to his office

“i fear your father is in a bit of distress”

‘when is he not’ you thought to yourself

“his bow has mysteriously gone missing”

ah, that explains it

long story short, you’re going on a wild goose chase

a wild bow chase if you will

it was last seen in brooklyn, and your father wants you to find it

bye bye peaceful summer

either way, you’re leaving the next day

you’ve only been at camp for like a week

quests were never your forte

people usually ask you to go because of your foresight

you mostly say no, because of personal reasons

things like medication, sensory issues, etc

but it seems like your dad had other plans

percy was waiting for you outside the big house

“what’s up?”

he was worried

you hate it when he worries

“i’m going on a quest for my dad” “when do you leave?” “tomorrow.”

then it was silent, and the two of you stood on the porch to the big house

“who are you taking” that was the question you dreaded

“i’m going alone”

percy then followed you as you walked back towards your cabin

the two of you sat on the floor of your cabin getting a basic pack together

first aid, ambrosia and nectar, snacks etc

your bow turned into a little charm on your bracelet for easy transport

sometimes your dad was useful

only sometimes though

carrying arrows around would be a problem though

hopefully you don’t get arrested

the afternoon continued as normal

dinner was great as always, and the campfire was bittersweet

percy always had his hand in yours

poor boy is worried

then the morning came

you were making your rounds, saying goodbyes and giving hugs and that’s when you realized

percy hadn’t come to say goodbye

your heart ached a little, because you needed a little boost from your boyfriend

so you got in the van

putting your bag and quiver on the ground

“ow”

car floors do not talk

and if they did, they definitely did not sound like percy jackson

you looked down, and sure enough your boyfriend was there in the signature orange chb tee and a goofy smile on his face

“so i know you said-“

he was immediately shut up by your lips on his

“you’re an idiot”

“i’m your idiot”

you pretended to be mad

but you were actually really happy he was with you

because you were extremely anxious

percy doesn’t force you to talk

you both just hold each other until you’re comfy

sooner or later you were in brooklyn

the last place the bow was seen

that was helpful!

except you didn’t even know where to start

because brooklyn is very big

make it worse? you don’t know what the bow looked like

you could really use a little hint from the guy right now

how do you even find a lost bow

is there like a lost and found for greek artifacts

if yes, was it in brooklyn

if no, it was a brilliant business idea

you were so nervous you didn’t even notice your speed walking

by the time percy turned to talk to you, you had already walked a good distance away from him

(you made sure to apologize after he caught up)

your boyfriend understands the stress that comes with quests

especially ones surrounding retrieving an item

so he holds your hand and helps you stay calm on your little search and rescue mission

with little to no progress, your first day ended quite peacefully

now you were just broke teens wandering the streets looking for shelter

“we could just sneak into someone’s house” “we are not breaking and entering percy”

hotels in brooklyn were expensive

at least more than the pocket money your mom gave you

lowkey you just wanted to go home to your comfy sheets and cuddle with percy

damn the gods and their carelessness

“psst!! you there!!”

you turned to see some guy wearing sunglasses at a cafe table

he looked oddly familiar

mostly because you see the same face every time you walk into your cabin back at camp

“oh, dad” “sunny wait- that’s HIM?”

percy seemed to be the only one out of the loop

you found it kinda funny

like you see apollo in your dreams a lot

your own lil gossip sesh in your head

sunny fave kid (not that you’d ever tell your siblings)

obvi you sit next to him and start chatting

percy was there like “🧍🏼‍♂️”

“so then i assume this is the boyfriend”

you nodded and apollo did a once over

“ig love really is blind…”

cue confused noises from percy

papa apollo just wants the best for you

and he did not think the son of poseidon was the one

“i thought we had a quest to do”

another side eye from apollo

“who is WE?”

let’s cut to the chase

“i last remember having it somewhere in a park, now i find it”

clearly the forgetfulness was genetic

“okay but how do we find it” “you should be able to feel it”

so now you were going off of vibes

like find my iphone for your dad

why couldn’t he do it? gods know

he has a chariot to drive for gods sake

knowing that you were a human bow tracker, you and percy left to continue your search

your dad gave you some money (dollars and drachmas) as an apology for making you find his bow

he gave percy a side eye over the rim of his sunglasses before disappearing

with a newfound determination (and milkshakes), you took the quest head on

you two found yourselves in an overgrown park secluded from the rest of the city

the foliage was so overgrown percy had to chop his way through it

the lamps didn’t work so you two were feeling around for a while

it was a struggle to get there, but it was worth it

because apollo was right

you felt the energy of his bow

“sunny you’re glowing” “percy now is not the time for flirting” “no- you’re glowing!”

you looked down and he was right

you were glowing just the faintest bit

it’s like a game of hot and cold

you were just walking around and comparing the strength of the energy you felt to the brightness of your glow

you almost jumped when you weeded through a bush and saw the bow almost immediately

you went to grab it, but something felt wrong

this quest was a bit too peaceful

“is everything okay? let’s just grab it and find your dad-“

percy was cut off by you tackling him to the ground

he was confused, but then he saw it

the minotaur standing a few feet from the bow

percy barely noticed

but sunny sense is never wrong

this was not percy’s first rodeo

but it was basically yours

you were never on quests, so random monster encounters were new to you

he didn’t miss the way your shoulders quivered slightly

percy just wanted you to make it out okay

he would make sure of it

so you got off of him and pulled out your bow

he uncapped riptide and you two were ready to go

“i’ll distract it, you go in for the bow” you suggested

“no let me distract it, you’re faster than me” he retorted

it went back and forth like that even when the minotaur noticed you

you heard a menacing growl and immediately ceased your argument

like clockwork you guys bolted in opposite directions, and to your relief, mr minotaur chose to follow percy

meaning you were on bow rescue duty

so you had to be sneaky

but it’s hard to be sneaky when you’re glowing like a dollar store disco ball

you would move an inch before the minotaur would turn a little bit

percy would then stab at it as a distraction

this high stakes red light green light went on for a bit

until you FINALLY got your hands on apollo’s bow

and just on time it seems, because your foresight was tingling

you turned around and placed an arrow onto the bowstring, pulling back

“hey! oversized cow!”

the minotaur was seconds away from disarming percy

it turned to face you, and all the confidence you once felt drained from your body

your face paled and the bow almost fell from your hands

without warning, the minotaur dashed at you

you braced for impact, the last thing you heard being percy’s worried exclamations

but the impact never came

you opened your eyes and saw a geometric dome of light surrounding you

this was not on your bucket list

the minotaur wobbled around, clearly dazed

percy once again, stood confused

you shrugged, mirroring his expression

pulling back, you shot the arrow straight into its forehead

you picked up the horn that remained after the corpse withered to dust

“now we match”

however percy did not match your excitement

“how did you do that”

your hands still had a residual glow from the energy

honestly you were too tired to care

you wanted to say something, but your vision turned black before you could even mutter a sentence

the last thing you heard was a panicked percy yelling your name

then it was black

no visions, no visits from your dad, just pure darkness and silence

it felt somewhat peaceful

you liked it

until a bright light started splitting the inky abyss

and your head started pounding like crazy

sitting up and looking around, you realized you were back in the infirmary

and when attempting to move your hand, you were only met with a vice grip

in your lap, slept a messy mop of dark brown hair

said mop began to wake up when you yanked his arm

at first he was annoyed

then he realized

and squeezed the living daylights out of you

and you both sat there for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes

until will solace came in and kicked percy out so he could make sure you were okay

you got away with a few scratches, but when you passed out apparently you hurt your shoulder too

meaning you were off the shooting range for a little while

you almost cried

bandaged and sore to the bone, you walked out of the infirmary

“sunny!”

you turned your head before being tackled into another bear hugging

“ow ow ow percy my shoulder my shoULDER”

he apologized and opted to hold your hand instead

you asked him what happened when you passed out

percy told will, and apparently being around so much solar energy from the bow awakened some kind of heliokinesis

“it’s kinda useless if you pass out every time you use it”

he got a punch on the shoulder for that one

“and the bow?” “oh your dad came and took it a little while after you passed out, he gave you a ride home”

you paused

wait a second

“only me?”

“i got a taxi”

you almost died of laughter

of course you apologized for your dad and gave percy the biggest kiss

he begrudgingly accepted as long as you two go questing together more

after that? you think you can handle a few more quests

“next we go to tartarus” “okay that’s enough out of you”

#rio rambles #pjo headcanon #pjo #hoo #percy jackson #rio writes 🐝#percy jackson x reader #pjo imagines #percy x reader #percy x sunny #asks! 🌼

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klapollo · 11 days

Text

just remembered when i went to the san rosalia feast last summer and i bought a candy apple from this woman who asked me (in spanish) if i spoke spanish and i attempted to carry out a small conversation with her while she humored me and my horrible vocabulary. hope ur having a good day brooklyn candy apple kiosk saleswoman

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sashaisready · 2 months

Text

The Blood Pact: Chapter 13 - Up to no good

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 14

Hello! No major warnings this time I don't think...but some references to an elderly relative dying. Let's get this show on the road!

The next few weeks blurred into months as you and Bucky settled into your relationship. It was surprisingly easy in some ways, slipping into a routine and making space in your lives for each other. You’d work in the day and he’d come find you when he woke up, you’d hear the quiet padding of his feet come down the stairs and he’d knock at your bedroom door - or he’d come down to find you cooking or eating dinner, wrapping his arms around you from behind as his cold skin met your warmth.

The summer was harder because it got darker later and later, but you did what you could. You’d go on more evening dates and he’d show you his favourite hidden spots in the city. You even went on a mini break upstate, although it was sometimes hard to fill the days while he slept. But you made it work, staying up late and adjusting your hours at work accordingly. He was worth it. Having a vampire for a boyfriend wasn’t always easy, you couldn’t see him in the day and your dates were restricted to the night time. He had to leave you each night before the sun rose so you woke up alone. He couldn’t join in if your friends made plans for the weekend afternoons, with you hastily explaining he worked a lot. The fact he didn’t eat sometimes felt like a gulf between you, and you wished you could take him out for dinner or cook for him.

But the harder parts melted away when the sun set once more and it was just the two of you. Your bed became a sanctuary, a private bolthole for two. A gateway to a world of pleasure and intimacy, exploring each other’s bodies down to the last detail – your touch saying more than words ever could. He quickly learnt what you liked and what you responded to. That vampire and human gap would shrink to nothing when his mouth was on yours, when his hands caressed every curve and every dip, when he taught your body to bend and twist for him – melting into him entirely. When he whispered ministrations against your skin or felt the beat of your heart as you pressed your chest into his. There would be nothing but the cacophony of your moans and the closeness of your forms, simply no space for any doubts or concerns.

You thought about the bigger stuff, too. Normally in the day when he was upstairs in his deep sleep. You knew that you loved him, maybe you always had. You hadn’t told him yet but it occasionally threatened to tumble out of your mouth when you were off your guard, normally in the throes of passion or when you were hazy after a feed and your emotions were spilling out like an overfilled water glass. You wanted him to say it first, unable to allow yourself such vulnerability.

You tried to live in the moment, enjoy the here and now and savour your time with Bucky – but your mind often wandered to the future. You’d been thinking more and more about asking him to turn you, it would just make your life with him so much easier. What would you really be losing? You could still see your friends at night. They loved you, you knew it would be a shock but knew they’d understand.

You didn’t see much of your family anyway, they were never super concerned with your whereabouts – it was more obligatory Christmas cards and brief text messages on your birthday. You wouldn’t exactly miss your job, and you could always freelance for the extra cash. Kids…kids was a harder one. You didn’t even know if you wanted them, but removing the opportunity to do so seemed extreme. But then maybe eternal life was a fair trade off, you’d have all the time in the world to explore your passions, all the time in the world with the man you loved – maybe you could fulfil your life in a different way.

But then saying goodbye to the sun seemed impossible. Never seeing a sunset or a sunrise ever again, never being able to wander into the park on a chilly winter morning – see the snowflakes in the early daylight. Never again sit on the beach and feel the warmth on your skin, with nothing to hear but the gentle lapping of the waves.

And what about food? You loved food. If you turned, you’d never sink your teeth into your favourite meal again, never enjoy a glass of great wine or sip on a steaming hot coffee. Never sit in a high end restaurant enjoying a bit of everything. Could you trade that all in?

Maybe for Bucky you could.

But maybe you just get used to it over time. You thought about the euphoria you felt during your feeds with Bucky and wondered if you’d have that from the other side, how it might feel to quench that thirst. How you might feel to live in a body that’s infinitely stronger, faster. Bucky and Steve never got sick, they never aged, their bodies wouldn’t break down and fade away like the inevitable end of most human lives. Years ago you’d been with your grandmother in her final days, watched as she wheezed and slurred through the heavy medication keeping her endless pain at bay. It wasn’t a peaceful end, she didn’t simply close her eyes and slip away, it was long and torturous. She wasn’t comforted by her loved ones around her, she barely knew they were there. Because of the pills it wasn’t painful…but it was slow, her death rattle echoing in your ears as her body gradually gave up. You knew then, even in your younger years, that you didn’t want to die like that.

So maybe you wouldn’t have to.

These thoughts frequently swirled around your head, so you finally decided to raise it with him. All of your issues so far had been because the two of you hadn’t communicated properly, so being open and honest was the only antidote.

One evening you strolled hand in hand through Central Park. It was quiet, peaceful. There was hardly anyone else around. Bucky was enjoying the summer air, feeling the breeze on his face as he savoured the freedom of being outside. You often took for granted the privilege that your human life granted you, being able to leave the house at any time of day without a second thought. Bucky’s enthusiasm for the outside world reminded you how precious nature really was.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and tucked you close to his hip, kissing your temple as he sighed contentedly. You leaned into him and pressed your own hand between his shoulder blades as you strolled. Now felt like a good time.

“Buck?” you asked tentatively.

“Mm?” he replied, absentmindedly glancing out at the path ahead.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future…” you began. “About us. I know its still early days, and I don’t mean anytime soon…but would you ever consider…turning me?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, snapping his head to look at you. His eyes narrowed as he glared, but he didn’t drop his hold on you. He looked…angry.

Just when you thought he was about to start yelling, he surprised you by letting out an uproarious laugh.

Now it was your turn to glare.

“Oh, that’s funny is it?” you spat.

He eventually calmed down, grinning at you as he squeezed your waist.

“Yeah it is. Good one, Doll” he chuckled.

You frowned at him and dropped your arm from his back. “I’m not kidding…Bucky”.

He nodded in mock seriousness. “Mmm. Of course. I’d be happy to murder you, no big deal”.

“It’s not murder” you hissed. “I’d still be alive. Just different. I’d…I’d be like you”.

He shook his head and continued walking. You scrambled as you followed, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Nope. Not doing that” he said defiantly.

“So that’s it?? End of discussion. You wouldn’t even consider it?”

“Nope”.

“I don’t mean now, but maybe down the line and we’re together and-”

“Nope” he cut you off.

You flounced ahead, shrugging his arm off you as you surged forward. You were furious he wouldn’t even consider it, that it was immediately off the table. He reached out and grabbed your shoulder faster than you could register, spinning you round and pulling you back into him. He tucked you against him, forcing you to look up at his face as he held you to his chest.

“Doll…you know full well what Steve and I have been through. Why would I willingly put you through that too?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Everything would change for you. Your entire life. You’d lose so much, and living with the thirst is incredibly tough. So many vampires struggle to get it under control”.

You dropped your eyes, focusing on a rogue strand of lint on his shirt collar. “I know” you said stroppily. “I just thought…if we wanted to be together…”

“We are together” he replied, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You, as you are, are perfect. I know it’s tough with our schedules sometimes, but we make it work, don’t we?”

You nodded, allowing your eyes to meet his azure ones once more. He smiled lovingly at you and you melted a tiny bit.

“If I turned you, I’d be robbing you of your life, Doll. Everything you have ahead of you. I’d be taking so much from you. More than you could ever fully understand until it was too late. Yeah it would be nice for me, but it would also be incredibly selfish. Can’t you see that?”

“But…it would be for you” you managed to reply.

He shook his head. “I would never want you to do that for me” he said sternly. “I’d always be the one who took your life from you. I would hate for you to see me that way. Like you said, it’s early days. I’ve got nothing but time. For now, let’s just enjoy our time together, okay? Let’s not rush into anything”

You nodded again, doing your best to mask your disappointment. You managed a small smile.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, never dropping his gaze. “I am touched you’d consider doing something like that for me” he assured you. “But it’s not something I’d ever ask of you”.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he kissed your crown. You knew he was right, as hard as it was to hear. It told you so much about him that he was only thinking of you, and how it would impact you. He was right that you didn’t fully understand what you’d be signing yourself up for.

You eventually started walking again when you turned to him.

“You’re just worried I’d make a way cooler vampire than you, right?” you teased.

He grinned. “Shit. You got me. I thought I’d gotten away with it”.

He chuckled and kissed you before you resumed your stroll.

🩸

The rest of your walk was uneventful but nice. As you headed for the exit you came across a man walking in the opposite direction who smiled at you both. You didn’t think anything of it, but Bucky suddenly gripped your hand so hard it almost hurt. You turned to ask him what he was doing as the man passed by and spoke to you.

“Barnes! Up to no good?” he laughed.

You moved to look at him. Muscular, a shock of dark hair and matching stubble. Dark eyes, an angular jawline. He wasn’t unattractive, but there was something off about him you couldn’t put your finger on. He grinned at you, but there was something in his smile you found unsettling.

“Rumlow” Bucky growled in return, clearing his throat. You quickly realised he seemed to be shielding you with his body, subtly moving himself in front of you.

“And who is this pretty thing?” Rumlow asked, eyeing you up and down. You felt strangely exposed in front of him, but you couldn’t say exactly why.

“This is my girlfriend” Bucky said solemnly as he introduced you and gave your name. Your heart surged, you didn’t think he’d called you that out loud before.

“How nice to meet you” Rumlow smiled, extending his hand and introducing himself in return. You shook it, smiling politely. “Barnes has always been a sucker for a pretty face”.

You managed a weak smile in return, your body felt tense – like it was trying to warn you of a danger you hadn’t fully noticed.

The two of them exchanged pleasantries and small talk but Rumlow’s gaze stayed fixed on you throughout. It made you feel uncomfortable, like a small fish being sized up by a shark. You found yourself unconsciously pressing into Bucky, the weight of his bulk helping to ground you.

“Well, we’ve gotta get going” Bucky said finally and you internally sighed with relief as he took your hand ready to leave.

“No problem. So I’ll see you at the thing next week, huh?” Rumlow replied.

Bucky nodded “Yep. 8 sharp”.

Ah yes, Steve and Bucky were having a little vampire shindig at the house next week. You had made plans with Wanda and Nat, not exactly desperate to spend the night in a building packed with predators who could all smell your blood. Steve and Bucky insisted their friends were civilised and didn’t eat humans anymore so you were free to join, but you still felt more comfortable staying away when 10% of your body weight is made up of the same thing they’d be having for their entrée.

As you walked off Bucky cursed under his breath and fidgeted with his belt. You blinked, curious at how the interaction seemed to have ruffled his feathers.

“What was that about?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing…he’s just, he’s more Steve’s friend that mine” he shrugged slightly too nonchalantly.

You nodded. “You okay?”

“Yep” he managed through gritted teeth. “He’s fine. I’ve just never fully liked him the way Steve does, is all. Don’t really trust him”.

“Yeah I do get a bit of a creep vibe from him” you admitted. “Why don’t you trust him?”

Bucky chuckled, the stiffness in his voice easing. “I’m not sure. He’s never given me a reason not to, it’s just a feeling. We’ve never really clicked. He’s mostly harmless. It’s just like humans y’know, you’re never going to gel with everyone in your circles. But with vampires there are a lot fewer options out there”.

He paused, looking over at you cautiously. “You’re out, the night of the party, right Doll?”

You nodded, a small alarm going off in the back of your head as you absorbed a strange tension you couldn’t fully put your finger on. “Yeah staying over at Wanda’s, why?”

“No reason” he answered a little too quickly. “I hope you kids have fun”.

You smiled back at him. “Yeah, we will. I hope you old geezers have fun, too”.

He laughed and the strange veil of awkwardness suddenly lifted as if it had never been there at all.

“We’ll try, Doll”.

You smiled back, but couldn’t stop thinking about how strange he had acted.

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