#andrew garfield fic
Note
private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?
[location based smut prompts]
The To-Do List
[tasm peter x fem!reader]
(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)
His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven.
She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up.
Peter, of course, had other ideas.
He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms.
“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised.
Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome.
His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent.
She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body.
“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.
She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed.
“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.”
Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off.
“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb.
“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff.
Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.
“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.”
She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.”
Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?”
“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?”
“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.”
She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.”
“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal.
She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.”
Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…”
She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”
She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.
“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!”
He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.
“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.”
“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second.
“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.”
“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.”
“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”
She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone.
Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”
He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips.
She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him.
“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?”
She whimpered.
“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply.
All for her.
It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her.
Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass.
“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”
She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.
“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap.
“Peter, please,” she gasped.
He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.
“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence.
She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?”
She whined and nodded.
“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”
Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”
He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”
She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him.
That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.”
“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”
He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body.
“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried.
“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?”
“No, baby, never. I could never-”
He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap.
She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over.
Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path.
He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried.
“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm.
The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands.
She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears.
That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel.
His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready.
“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.”
Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing.
“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
The universe exploded into blinding light.
She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman.
Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine.
Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn.
He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat.
“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”
All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing.
“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”
She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries.
He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.”
He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down.
“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?”
She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased.
His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow.
Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him.
With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down.
He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily.
Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.”
She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.
His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling.
Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…
For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.
#andrew garfield#the amazing spiderman#tasm#peter parker#tasm peter parker#tasm peter#tasm x reader#tasm smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter smut#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker smut#tasm fic#tasm smut fic#peter parker fic#peter parker smut fic#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield smut fic#location smut prompts#the to do list#blooming violets fic#blooming violets
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
'It Couple'
masterlist
note: my first andrew ask!!!
warnings: none!
word count: 850~
♡ summary: Where Andrew and Y/n are the 'it couple' of Hollywood
♡ Andrew Garfield x actress/director!reader
request ✓
The loud clicks as well as the bright flashes only got louder and brighter after Andrew and Y/n stepped out of their car, heading into the venue. It was understandable, both were up for very prestigious awards tonight, Andrew for best actor and Y/n for directing as well as writing. But of course paparazzi didn’t care about that, they wanted what sold, and pictures of the couple sold.
The couple was also making their first appearance since their ten year anniversary, they had co-starred in Spider-man together. They were twenty-eight then and both in that place in life to settle down with someone, while still putting their best foot forward for their careers. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, like she was the espresso and he was the milk to a cappuccino.
It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.
It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.
Throughout the carpet they whispered sweet nothings and little jokes only they would understand. It was something the internet loved, how, unlike some celebrity couples, you could see the love in their eyes. After ten years it has never left, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase while knowing each other like the back of their hand.
After what felt like an hour, they finally made their way into the venue, venturing out of their seats to mingle, but mostly enjoying the night out together in peace. Not trying to think about the awards they were nominated for.
-
It was now the end of the night, both a little tipsy, Y/n already won for best original screenplay. But now was for the big awards, two of which the couple were nominated for, only making it all the more nerve racking.
“And best directing goes to…” The booming voice on stage spoke, of course stalling as they always did for dramatic affect. It was as if a Y/n was no longer there, like she was merely watching at home on a screen, dreaming she was the director to win.
The only indication it had been announced, is the warm and firm hug Andrew brought her into. Leaving a kiss on her forehead in congratulation, but also of pride. His wife won best director.
“Love, I am so proud of you. You deserve this.”
His words brought her back to life, as they always did, looking up at him she left a kiss on his lips, herself and him whispering ‘I love you’s against each other's soft lips. They didn’t care that they were on live TV, they were celebrating. After quickly getting hugs from the cast and crew that were there, Y/n made her way up the stage, accepting the award.
“I truly just had an out of body experience. This has been a dream since I was- god like thirteen, when I took my first film class. Mrs. Goldstone, thank you for fighting for that class to be given at my school. If it wasn’t I wouldn't be here. And to my husband, Andrew, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t push me to pursue directing six years ago. I love you.”
After thanking the cast and crew, as well as the academy, Y/n made her way off the stage. Only to run backstage to her seat, not wanting to miss the best actor award.Coming back to her seat she was huffing and puffing from all the running, “What? Did you run here?” “Yes, actually.”
Turning his head, left another string of kisses from the woman’s forehead to her check, “I’m so proud of you.”
“And the nominees for best actor!” The camera panned to the respective actors as the man on stage read off the names, “And the award for best actor goes to… Andrew Garfield! Tick, Tick… Boom!”
Both rose from their chairs, smiling widely, and bringing each other into a tight hug, “My turn to be proud. You deserve this, I love you.” “I love you.”
Andrew made his way to the stage this time, accepting the award, shaking the hands out everyone on stage before he made his way to the microphone, “I just can only say thank you. I know everyone says it, but I did not see this coming. I want to thank every member of the cast as well as the crew, you made this movie possible. And Lin, thank you, I love working with you. And my wife, who lied to Lin when he asked her if I could sing. Without you immediately lying for me, this wouldn’t be possible. I love you.”
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x actress!reader#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield fanfiction#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield x director!reader#andrew garfield x wife!reader#husband!andrew garfield
145 notes
·
View notes
Note
Request for Andrew Garfield: he introduces the reader to his closest friends and they tell him she’s a keeper
She’s a Keeper
Pairing: Andrew Garfield x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol, implied smut
Summary: meeting Andrews friends seemed terrifying, desperate to make a good impression, and when you finally get the chance to meet them it goes much better than planned. (sorry this took forever, I kept getting distracted starting different requests but this one was to cute to forget about)
Masterlist
Andrew had met all of your friends. They all loved him and you were content spending time with them in a group setting. You still had yet to meet Andrews friends but you were extremely nervous. Your friends were simple people, friends from college, people you’ve seen make stupid mistakes. Andrews friends were famous, older, and they’d probably look at you and wonder what the hell was wrong with their friend for dating you.
Of course you couldn’t avoid it forever and Andrew had made plans that you couldn’t back out of. You already planned to spend the night with him when he informed you that you were going to get drinks with Jamie Dornan, Charlie Cox, and Eddie Redmayne. If you had any chance of survival you weren’t sure. The thought of you sat around a table with well known famous actors almost made you laugh, surely onlookers would laugh at you too.
You prided yourself on being a very controlled and out going person but as you stared back at yourself in the mirror not even you could ignore the slight shake of your hands as you brushed the blue fabric of your dress. Andrew thought it was adorable that you were nervous about making a good impression on his friends. So he walked up behind you, his large hands covering your shaking ones as he pulled you back into his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck, his beard tickling you.
“You look beautiful baby” he spoke the words into your neck, kisses pressed lightly to your skin.
“Are you sure I’m not overdressed?” your head tilted in concentration as you continued to look over yourself. Making a good impression and not making a fool of yourself was top priority. Andrew thought it was adorable and he chuckled as he spun you around so you could stop obsessing over how you looked.
“The dress is perfect, you’re beautiful. Not even a hair out of place, well at least until I get my hands on you” your cheeks flamed red as he pushed your hair out of your face, his hand trailing along your neck.
“I just want them to like me” you told him as you grabbed the ends of his blazer, pulling him into you.
“They’re going to love you, just like I do” he whispered before pressing a kiss flush to your lips. The hard kiss made your head spin and you grinned for such a distraction. A faint imprint of your red lips sat on his own and you weren’t going to tell him.
“Let’s go before we’re late, they’d probably blame me if we were” you said slipping out his grasp as you pulled him out of the apartment. Getting a cab wasn’t difficult and soon enough you were pulling up outside of the bar, a bit fancier than your usual taste but you figured they picked it to have less chance of being overwhelmed in public.
“Ready?” Andrew asked and you nodded as he offered his hand and helped you out if the car and onto the sidewalk. Before he could pull his hand away you tightened your grip and locked your fingers with his, your nervousness showing. Andrews heart fluttered at the fact this meant so much to you.
“There he is” a booming voice called as you stepped through the doors of the bar. You looked over the see the three very recognizable men sat at a table, empty glasses and new drinks in front of them.
“Always late” Jamie chuckled and you felt your heart drop slightly, wanting to avoid that.
“I bet he drives you nuts, he can never be on time to anything” Charlie said as his eyes flitted to you and your nervousness eased that they didn’t blame you.
“Probably to busy putting his lipstick on huh?” Eddie teased with a wink and Andrews eyes widened as he realized you had left your mark, him quickly wiping at it with his sleeve.
“If I didn’t drag him out of the door we would’ve been later” you teased and the three men laughed.
“Guys this is Y/N” you smiled and quickly shook all of their hands before Andrew pulled out your seat for you to sit.
“It’s nice to finally meet you guys” you beamed at them, trying to remind yourself they’re still just people.
“How’d a pretty girl like you end up with this guy?” Jamie asked and a deep crimson blush covered your cheeks, because well, Christian Grey just called you pretty.
“He practically begged, I finally just got sick of him asking” the group laughed including Andrew especially because everyone at the table knew you said yes the first time he asked.
“He’s a very determined guy” Eddie said as he clapped his hand to his shoulder. Andrew shook his head, realizing he was in for an afternoon of teasing.
“And stubborn” you pointed out and the boys laughed again. You started to feel more comfortable especially when you realized you were all there because of someone you love which meant you all already had something in common.
“Speaking of stubborn, I have a story for you” Andrew was quick to lean forward and wave a hand in Charlie’s face.
“Alright enough of that” he quickly spoke and you shook your head as you slapped a hand over your boyfriends mouth.
“Shut up baby I want to hear this” you told him and he groaned as he fell back and away from your hand.
“Few years back we went out to this club, and Andrew got wasted. I mean like stumbling around, slurring speech wasted, and we just wanted to go home. Yet this guy somehow still wanted to party, I mean no one was even out anymore and we couldn’t drag him away from the table. So I did the only thing I could think of” Andrew recoiled into his seat, shielding his eyes with his hands as if it would lessen the embarrassment. “I told him Anne Hathaway was at the apartment and she was looking for him. The guy couldn’t control himself as he ran out of the club”
“Anne Hathaway huh?” you rose your eyebrows at your boyfriend and he shook his head.
“I went through a Princess Diaries phase” you and his friends laughed loudly at his defense.
“It’s okay baby, I went through a She’s The Man phase, Channing Tatum man” the boys continued to laugh, able to picture them both in their young obsessions.
“We all had our phases. Avril Lavigne has had my heart since 07” Jamie said and the group continued to share their laughs.
“I’m happy to know he’s still the same, we came home from a night out the other night and he cried while watching Ratatouille” the boys chuckled as they imagined their friend crying over the cartoon.
“Look he found out it was his Dad, and Remy won the heart of the food critic. I don’t think I have to defend myself here” Andrew held his hands up in defense and you giggled while reaching to grab his hand.
“It was cute, I just wanted to cuddle him for hours because of how sweet he was” Andrew blushed and you smiled. You were no longer nervous to be around his friends.
“Yeah I oddly remember feeling that way about drunk Andrew too” Eddie said which caused more laughs.
“I’m gonna use the rest room, I’ll be right back” you stood and left the boys at the table. Once you were out of sight they all turned to the brunette boy.
“I like her man” Jamie quickly said and the other boys nodded.
“Me too, she’s funny. I’m glad you didn’t bring another dud to drinks” Eddie spoke and Andrew rolled his eyes before smiling.
“I love her man, she’s so full of life. I can’t get enough of her” the grin of adoration was evident on Andrews face as he spoke about the girl.
“We approve dude, she’s a keeper” Charlie told him and Andrew felt his heart warm. He knew you’d win them over, you were just that kind of girl.
After some more chat about how much his friends liked you, you returned to table with drinks for the both of you in your hands. The rest of the night full of more laughs and fun. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you both left, you hugging each of the friends, as you moved to return home. The minute the apartment door shut behind you Andrew wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back into his chest.
“What’s this about?” you asked as his face nuzzled into your neck and started pressing soft kisses into your skin.
“I just love you so much” his hot breath fanned over your neck as he spoke, causing you to recoil away because it tickled.
“You’re in a good mood” you told him as you turned around to press a kiss to his lips.
“Of course I am, my best friends love my girlfriend” he quipped before kissing you hotly again.
“Oh so it’s confirmed, I’m the favorite” you teased and Andrew chuckled before scooping you up and starting towards the bedroom.
#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield imagine#tasm andrew garfield#andrew garfield#imagine#andrew garfield fanfiction#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield fluff#romance#marvel#tasm!peter smut#tasm x reader#tasm au#tasm fanfiction#tasm imagine#tasm fic#tasm peter parker
823 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairings: Andrew Garfield x Photographer!Reader
Summary: In 2018 you met someone on a plane. You played board games and somehow that man stayed in your life. You've been pretty private until that man, love of your life spilled the guts during his interview with British GQ.
A/N: I watched Andrew's '10 essentials' video and somehow it produced this little Social Media story. Enjoy! Andrew articulates his thoughts very beautifully and philosophically, I tried to somehow embrace it.
2018
yourinstagram
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by ynupdates, yourbestfriend and 56 282 others
yourinstagram london, im coming!!! can't wait to be back home and work in the uk for some time.
photo taken by the kind stranger that earlier lost to me in bananagrams. board games at its finest.
view all 16 292 comments
yourbestfriend can't wait to see you, bby!
ynupdates just wanted to say that i love all the photos you've done for the latest Vogue issue. i really admire your talent❤️
⤷ yourinstagram thank you, lovely! xx
vogue we're waiting for you, yn!
gqbritish we are too!
user33 is she the one that won the international portrait photographer of the year?
⤷ ynupdates yes, she is!
⤷ user55 is she under some agency or something? I'd love to contact her for some photoshoot
⤷ ynupdates i believe she's now working around magazines' photoshoots, hence the gqbritish and vogue commenting
——————————————————————————————
andregarfieldlasagna
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by andrewmyhusband, andrewspiderman and 4 292 others
andrewgarfieldlasagna Andrew today in London!
view all 1 292 comments
andrewmyhusband who is he taking photo of, smiling this hard???
⤷ andrewbtch people that saw him said he was out with some woman, but they didn't know who she was
andrewspiderman man's looking soon good 🤤
garfieldmyman THE arm!!! and that smile?? I can't
agfan772 that is a very specific camera, isn't it rather professional?
⤷ andrewsgirl well, he has loads of money so he's probably buying the best
——————————————————————————————
2019
yourinstagram
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by vogue, ynupdates, andrewgarfieldlasagna and 3 292 292 others
yourinstagram earlier this year i was invited by the incredible Gia Coppola to visit the set of her newest film, Mainstream. it is streaming online in early 2020, starring this guy, but also, and most importantly, absolutely talented and beautiful Maya Hawke.
view all 34 217 comments
mayahawke i love you, i love you, i love you
⤷ yourinstagram i love youuuu xx
gqbritish are we teasing our next cover star?
⤷ yourinstagram are we?
⤷ gqbritish we are.
andrewgarfieldlasagna omg!!!! 🤤 Andrew as a blond man looks sooo good
andrewbtch him covering gq??? and yn's taking photos? its gonna be great
ynscamera she's around andrew so much. on the latest vogue party she was seen leaving with him...
⤷ andrewscat she said in her one and only (for now) interview that she's great friends with him. i wouldn't be speculating about their private lives.
⤷ ynupdates she also said that he's one of the most down to earth celebrities she's ever met. but also that whenever she's around him, he's just andrew and you can't feel any arrogance or swankiness that is often associated with stars.
⤷ ynscamera they seem like great friends. good for them!
——————————————————————————————
2020
gqbritish
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates, andrewgarfieldlasagna and 3 292 393 others
gqbritish Andrew Garfield, man that became someone he'd dreamed of being. This month we interviewed one of the most wanted actors and (let's face it) men on planet Earth. How his SpiderMan movies changed his life? Is he in the newest MCU production with Tom Holland and Tobey Maguire? How friendships within and outside the Hollywood established him as a person? Click the link in our bio to get the (philosophical) answers to those and some more questions.
styled by Andrew Garfield
photographed by yourinstagram
GQ British 2020
view all 183 303 comments
andrewspiderman 'im not a werewolf!' sure andrew...
andrewgarfieldlasagna the way he speaks about his friendship is something I want to be able to express. he loves all of those people so much. it's so sweet.
ynupdates 'I wouldn't say I have hundrenths of best friends. No. I've got a few. My men from when we were young and beautiful. My YN that - she's just the perfect friend, you know? You'd say there's no 'perfect' people, and before knowing her I would've agreed. But now? She knows exactly what you need, how to talk with you. She - she's like a ray of sunshine you await all day, you know? Just before the sunset, it happens. And then it stays with you till you close your eyes before falling asleep. That's YN and her presence.'
⤷ ynupdates 🥺 I can't. he talks about her so beautifully...
⤷ ynscamera i want him as my best friend
⤷ amdrewandyn i refuse to belief those two people aren't in love, there's no way
yourinstagram working with this man is an absolute pleasure. thank you, gq for the opportunity of capturing this man's charm and warmth. ❤️
⤷ gqbritish no, we thank YOU.
agfan918 what a beautiful man
andrewspiderman he's denying those spiderman rumours so much with the proofs laying on the table
⤷ andrewsupdates like andrew said 'it's a photoshop'
——————————————————————————————
andrewsmylove
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by ynupdates and andrewgarfieldlasagna 2 102 others
andrewsmylove guysssssss... i met andrew fucking garfield. i met the love of my life. i can die happy now.
view all 1 007 comments
andrewsmylove before you all start asking questions let me say this 1) it was outside london 2) he was out shopping (he had so many shopping bags full of groceries) 3) this picture was taken with zoom - we kept at least 8 feet distance 4) i got to have a small convo with him 🥺
andrewgarfieldlasagna oh god, so happy for you, love! ❤️
andrewspiderman do you know how he's dealing with quarantine?
⤷ andrewsmylove he said 'im alright, thank you. it's different, its hard. but there are people that don't have the luxury of staying comfortably at home and do mostly nothing. that, that's unsettling. i won't complain about myself. we just need to pull through it and hopefully it'll quickly become a history'
⤷ andrewbtch why isn't it surprising that he's Firstly thinking of others? he's so thoughtful
⤷ andrewsmylove he is! he talked to me about the food bank that just opened near the place we met. Two of those bags he was carrying were going there.
andrewandyn so happy for you! do you know if he's alone?
⤷ andrewsmylove he's not! when we were saying our goodbyes i said that i hoped he wasn't alone. he said 'oh don't worry, darling. i’ve got my family with me'
andrewbtch is this man shopping wearing a suit???
——————————————————————————————
2021
yourinstagram
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by ynupdates, vogue, gqbristish, andrewgarfieldlasagna and 3 292 394 others
yourinstagram little lynn says hello
view all 199 383 comments
vogue hello, little Lynn!!! 👶
gqbritish we can't wait to see her during your photoshoots!
yourbestfriend keeping this little one a secret was haaard! my beautiful goddaughter ❤️
mayahawke congratulations, baby!!
andrewspiderman congratulations!!
andrewandyn i didn't know she was dating anybody during quarantine
⤷ andrewbtch i was sure she was spending it with andrew
⤷ andrewsmylove maybe they're, you know...
⤷ andrewbtch if andrew is a dad it's the end. nah, i can't take it. he's sooo hot plus a dad??? nope.
——————————————————————————————
andrewgarfieldlasagna
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by andrewspiderman, andrewandyn and 8 292 others
andrewgarfieldlasagna i can't belive it 🥺 after all those leaked photos, i still wasn't sure they'd bring andrew and tobey to be in this movie. andrews laying didn't help either. but im sooo happy. it was perfect
view all 1 292 comments
andrewspiderman when ned opened the first portal i recognised that lean man immediately, but when he pulled off the mask i screamed so loudly 😭
andrewandyn it was so nicely done. bringing them back didn't outshine Tom's performance. im so glad to be alive and seeing Andrew's wearing that suit for the third time
yourinstagram 'im not a werewolf' liaaaaaaaar
⤷ andrewsmylove omgggg hi Queen!
⤷ andrewbtch yn???? you didn't know???
⤷ yourinstagram nope. this is the cause of our divorce.
——————————————————————————————
⤷ andrewandyn divorce, babe. divorce.
⤷ andrewbtch poor andrew getting divorce from his best friend 😢
2022
andrewspiderman
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by andrewgarfieldlasagna, andrewandyn, andrewsmylove and 12 292 others
andrewgarfieldlasagna Andrew in his '10 essentials' video with GQ told a story of him and YN meeting. ON A FLIGHT. PLAYING BOARD GAMES. 'We are married. She's the mother of my child.' I am so happy for them 🥺
view all 2 392 comments
andrewandyn I told all so. I was right!!!!
andrewspiderman DILF.
andrewbtch daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy?
andrewmyhusband well, time to change the username...
ynupdates they named their child after his mother 🥺
andrewsmybaby guys!!!! gq released an interview as well
⤷ andrewspiderman no way! do you have a link?
⤷ andrewsmybaby ofc! www./gq-magazine/.co.uk
——————————————————————————————
www./gq-magazine/.co.uk
Andrew Garfield's search for ultimate philosophy of his life
Living the last year in Andrew's skin would be both - fulfilling and terrifying. Golden Globe win, an Emmy nomination, re-playing SpiderMan - Andrew is speaking about the freedom he feels while choosing his next projects. Not excluding the new experience, new life he'd been living since last year.
Interviewer: I cannot not start this conversation with congratulating you.
Andrew: (blushing) Oh, thank you very much. Thank you.
I: You won a Golden Globe for your portrayal of Jonathan Larson in Tick, Tick...Boom!
A: Yeah. Super cool. Yes. It- you know how it can be with awards. I don't say I don't like them. It's pleasing to be recognised by the critics. But (scratching his beard) with this film it never was made for awards. Or I've never treated it like it. The storytelling of Jonathan's life, genius and impeccable talent was what I wanted to present as genuinely as it could be possible. Showing young and older people that this man did so much for theatre, for music, for people.
I: You definitely brought him to life.
A: That's- that's what I wanted. Thank you for acknowledging my pains.
I: Of course. I'd never deny someone's genius in acting.
A: No, no. Please no. I have this problem with that word. Genius is something that remarkable people could be blessed with. People making difference in the world, changing it for the better. No genius in my head. But like all words and feelings there is no universal meaning to them. So, in your understanding of the word: thank you.
I: You said about changing the world, but last year your world changed completely.
A: (smiling) Yes. Yes, it did.
I: You're a married man.
A: I am. I am married to the most delicate, understanding, caring, mesmerising woman I've ever met. I don't think my or your lifetime would be enough for me to express how much this woman changed my life. The- the absolute love I feel is one of the greatest feelings I've experienced. Such an eternal feeling.
I: It's not the only change, is it?
A: (laughs, while blushing) No.
I: Last year you welcomed your daughter in the world. You're a dad!
A: Yes! I finally can shamelessly make those ludicrous jokes. Even if not funny it's a dad joke.
I: How's that? Being a father?
A: Don't make me start. (laughs) At home, I have two rays of sunshine, beaming at me, making me absolutely awestruck. It's not helping when the little one is the picture of her mother - mind-bogglingly precious. It's- it's funny because my brother has kids. And whenever he spoke about how much he loved, appreciated and just - just valued them and his wife, I couldn't comprehend that. Love was always such a beautiful but mysterious feeling for me, somehow uncomprehending. And then YN came into my life. And little L was born. Those feelings just started burning my heart. My whole body. I still can't understand it. But it's so magical. You're really ready to do anything for that little human.
I: How are all the milestones?
A: Exciting. (tears up) Fuck. See? Oh God. Being so full of that love is- oh screw it. I'm done. (laughs)
I: What are your plans?
A: There's not many of them. We're trying to live the moment with YN, appreciate the joy that Universe gave us - little Lynn. We're living from one milestone to the other. From her first smile, through first prattle, first solo sitting situation to those attempts of the first word. I'm not the youngest, the big 40 is waiting around the corner, and experiencing those joys with my love is, I think, the essence of my existence.
I: Do you think without that you'd be lost?
I: Fullfilled.
A: I don't know. Maybe. Probably. It's a big thing to derive your happiness from other people, even if it's your absolute partner and child. It's dangerous. (Andrew thinks for a moment.) That's why I surf. It clears my mind, brings me my own, autarcik joy. It's something that is only mine. YN isn't a fan of surfing, but accepts and supports my endeavours. So to answer your question, without them my existence wouldn't feel pure. They make me complete.
A: Yes. It's strange getting to know in your late 30s that you lack so much. That your life could be so different if you met that on person earlier or not at all. There always was that perpetual search in me, for meaning of life, for love, for - you know - answers. Why, why why. There still is that search, but now I can just leave one room and go look for my wife and talk to her about it, search together. Or I can find my daughter, hug her and speak to her, sing. And even though she, for now, only can be a blabbery little human, the search is united.
I: What do you wish for now, in your life?
A: Like a dad would say, health. (laughs) My dad has so fun with calling me out on sounding just like him. I do. I do sound just like him. That's what fathers do apparently.
Magazine GQ
Andrew Garfield
Photographed by YN Garfield
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
♥️ 💬 ➤
liked by mayahawke, andrewgarfieldlasagna, gqbritish, yourbestfriend and 5 202 292 others
yourinstagram exhausted (the best) father after chasing his one-year-old daughter around for the whole day.
1461 days with you and it still amazes me how my love for you can only grow.
view all 140 292 comments
yourbestfriend i know im late, but im still babysitting my little baby. youll have the whole hause to yourselves
mayahawke give my baby L a kiss!
⤷ yourinstagram be quick. lil lynn is ready to sleep and parents are ready to play Bananagrams
⤷ andrewsmylove bananagrams??? the game that they played the first time they met??? 🥺
andrewspiderman 4 years and a day??? they've been together for so long
⤷ andrewsmylove not really a day. it's fu 4 years - leap year has 366 days - so it's right
andrewbtch i still can't belive he's a father
ynupdates happy anniversary! ❤️
andrewgarfieldlasagna happy anniversary, lovies!!
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield x you
875 notes
·
View notes
Note
would you be up to writing a smut for andrew again? maybe the reader just came back from UTBOH premier (his new show) and seeing him as a dilf just made her need him to put a baby in her
Author's Notes: I actually already had something like this already written! Thank you for requesting. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to - I'm trying to get through old requests when I can! I'm hoping the wait was worth it and that you enjoy xoxo
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drinking, established relationship, talk of pregnancy, smut* (unprotected sex, biting, some spanking)
Requested: Yes, old request!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
Andrew knew that she liked his work, and had been looking forward to this project, but he didn't know she would have this reaction. Especially after he propped her up on the vanity 10 minutes before their town car showed up. He thought he had done a better job at easing her desire a little bit.
"You're so sexy as a Daddy. Fuck, I want your baby so much." She wept in his ear before she sank to her knees in front of him seconds after their hotel room door shut.
"Come back up here. Slow down, little lady. Holy fuck." Andrew breathed out as she unzipped his slacks and reached for his manhood as he tugged her upright again.
"I don't want to go slow. I want to go fast, make a baby. I want to bounce on your thick, beautiful -" She groaned as he covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes narrowed down at her.
"How much champagne did you drink?" Andrew murmured as he pulled his hips back, not letting her rub him over his briefs. He removed his hand from her pouty lips to let her reply.
"One glass. I swear, just the one. I just saw you up on that screen and I just felt something. I know that wasn't the point of the story, and that's wrong of me. But I saw you with those kids and I got stupid." Her eyes were heavy, but not with alcohol, they were heavy like after he'd fuck her into the mattress and she'd ask for one more roll around.
"Stupid?" He repeated softly as he trailed his fingers over her chin down her throat, over the tops of her breasts.
"Yeah. I got that fuzzy headed feeling, but it was less sweet and tender than earlier. I just wanted to rip your clothes off and ride you like an animal. Bite you, lick you, scratch you up and let you cover me in -"
Andrew grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a hot, messy open mouth kiss. He slipped his tongue in her mouth with a moan as he lifted her thigh up around his waist with his other hand. He let her unbutton his shirt as he started his trail of kisses down her throat to her chest.
"You want to go for a little ride, lovey?" Andrew growled as he nipped at her chin, breathing heavily against her lips as she worked her hand into his slacks to palm his stiffness.
"Yes, please. I need you so naked and deep inside of me. Wanna bite you all over." She whispered as she pressed her hand to his full thickness over his briefs.
"What has gotten into you? Fuck." He groaned as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up, carrying her to the bed while she kept her hand in his pants. He dropped her to the bed as carefully as he could before he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tore off his tie.
"Next time." He growled as he balled up his tie and pitched it to the end of the bed.
"You wanna tie me up, baby?" She breathed out as she reached for his belt buckle and tugged him close, legs around his waist.
"More than anything. Wrists behind your back, to the headboard, or wrists tied to your beautiful ankles. But you requested a ride around the world first, lovey. Leave these shoes on for me?" Andrew breathed out as he ran his hands up her smooth legs underneath her dress. His hips were hers as she tugged his belt through the prongs then wrestled his slacks and briefs over his backside.
"Whatever you want. Baby!" She giggled as he crawled into bed and flipped them over. He unzipped her dress, pawing her breasts as she rocked over his hard leaking manhood.
"Take this off, lovey. Oh, so beautiful. And these panties can just be destroyed. We don't need them." Andrew breathed out as he bunched her dress up around her waist then pulled it off her body. He rooted his fingers in her panties and ripped them at the seam, revealing her wet treasure to him.
"Put Him in for me, baby?" She whispered as she pressed down to her hands on the mattress and kissed his cheek, the beard scratching her lips.
"Need my help, lovey? Oh, there we go. Is that good, lovey?" Andrew grunted as he held himself steady and eased inside of her as she bit and nibbled down his scruffy neck. He ran a hand over her hair as he settled inside of her, his breath stuck in his throat as her tight walls clenched around him in the hopes of making him part of her.
"S'good. So full." She whispered into the crease of his neck as she started to rock her hips on top of him.
Once she had adjusted to his size, her little hole stretched to its limit with his thick length, she sat upright and held his shoulders for leverage. She lifted her hips up then down, tantalizingly slow, watching him lick his lips.
"If you're gonna ride like that, put your knees here." Andrew breathed out as he grabbed the backs of her knees and spread them out as far as they could go, letting her clit rub his abs.
"Oh, baby." She gasped, falling back down to her forearms on the mattress at the sensation, pleasure coursing through her body as he hit her gspot and her clit rubbed his stomach.
"Better, yeah? That's my girl." Andrew huffed out as he grabbed her thighs then pawed at her ass cheeks before doling out a firm smack that made her moan. That loud, slutty moan he loved to hear when she really let go for him.
"S'good, lovey? Take what you want, it's fucking yours." He growled as he smacked her ass again then reached for her hair and tugged hard, exposing her neck.
"Do it. I know you want to, Andrew. Bite my neck and fucking claim me." She rasped out as she scratched the nails of her left hand down his chest, red marks across his skin.
Andrew growled from deep, deep in his chest as he surged forward to sink his perfect white teeth into her neck. His girlfriend pressed her nails into his chest, little crescent moon shapes embedded over his heart as she sobbed his name, rolling her hips like a cyclone on top of him.
"Gonna make me cum, lovey. So wild right now. Slow down." Andrew croaked as he pulled his fingers down her back to her hips, trying to cease her movement.
"But you feel so good." She sobbed out as she sat up, running her hands through her hair as she bounced in his lap, her back arched.
"I wanna last longer, make you cum." He groaned as his fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips in a weak attempt to anchor himself.
"S'okay, baby. I'm there with you." She breathed out as she dropped to her forearms on the mattress and pressed her forehead to his, her fingertips running over his bearded jawline.
Andrew wrapped his arms around and flexed his arms into the small of her back as he brought them both over the edge. Her toes curled in her shoes while she pulled his hair, breathing his name in his ear.
"Fuck. I'm definitely fine with doing that over and over again to have a baby." Andrew sighed contently as he released his arms from around her body and rested them over his head.
"I'm so shocked." She grinned as she looked down at him with bright, but tired eyes, her body weak on top of him.
Andrew chuckled as he buried his face in her neck, placing soft kisses down to her shoulder. He rolled them over in the bed, tugging her snuggly against him as he tucked them under the blankets. They fell asleep, both dreaming of their future together and starting a family.
Please let me know what you think - comments and messages are welcome! I hope you all enjoyed xoxo
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield smut#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x reader smut#andrew garfield fan fic#andrew garfield blurb#andrew garfield imagine
259 notes
·
View notes
Text
My mood this year:
Still depressed
Still horny and also heartbroken
In love with Andrew Garfield
In love with Pedro Pascal
#pedro pascal#andrew garfield#joel miller x reader#javi gutierrez x reader#javier peña fanfiction#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield smut#the amazing spiderman#din dijarin x reader#peter parker#agent whiskey x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro
334 notes
·
View notes
Text
scratching : countertops¡ (stargirl interlude)
"I had a vision
A vision of my nails in the kitchen
Scratching counter tops, I was screaming
My back arched like a cat, my position couldn't stop you were hitting it
And I shouldn't cry, but I love it, Starboy..."
༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧
summary: peter's been your roommate for years, and you know that the rooms are filled with thrifted furniture and unsolved tension. when you find yourself eating pineapples beside him one night, you don't expect to be bent over the counter with his (sticky, dexterous) hands.
word count: 6,482
warnings: graphic writings of smut (MINORS DNI), mentions of blood, fluff, maybe a little angst (extended warnings below the cut)
a/n: hi. hope you all like this unholy smut. hope we're all forgiven. here's you being peter's pretzel with three holes lol
MASTERLIST
༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧
extended warnings: face-fucking, oral (m and fem receiving), ass/anal play. degradation and praise kink. unprotected sex, (don't be silly, wrap your willy), creampie. toy usage (vibrator wand), rough sex, man handling, biting, body-guard/doggy position, cum-dumpster!reader, and poorly written smut :)
༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺
This was all Harry’s fault.
I hope Oscorp burns to the ground and you lose all your money so you’re forced to live with me, you bastard.
Rationally, Harry had offered to help Peter pay for the apartment (without malice; he knows Peter’s not that poor). But ever the independent, he refused. So he couldn’t possibly understand why he was so upset that his friend was leaving to get his own apartment that he found was better than the one they used to live in.
Guaranteed, it wasn’t the type Osborn had grown into – waking up right to ruckus outside the building, bird shit sometimes reeking from the fire escape, a slim shower rather than a tub – and Peter was forever thankful Harry never complained and had adjusted to the type of lifestyle Peter grew up into.
But he wanted to move out. Move into an apartment near Oscorp and campus. Because he’s not the one swinging there within three minutes.
(Peter had offered swinging together with Harry. He refused. Says he’s afraid of heights and makes him…question. Peter doesn’t know what he means. Unless-)
So now here he was, on the internet lately advertising on some dodgy website that he's seeking for a new roommate. He doesn’t mind, though. If he ends up with a murderer, they’ll most likely be in jail the second they step in.
But he’s set up some rules. Peter liked boundaries, and he most certainly liked people who knows how to properly clean the bathroom, remembers their keys, doesn’t bring random people in without permission, doesn’t put marijuana in brownies when baking, and doesn’t produce the nastiest smell around the apartment.
He hesitates on the brownies portion. While he certainly relishes eating chocolate-flavored cannabis, Harry is the only one he knows how to prepare the baked confection. So Peter wouldn’t mind if his new roommate knew how to make them, as well.
Behind him, Harry grunts as he places the last box on the coffee table. It’s labeled ‘The Den equipment’ in a deep red marker written on top of masking tape. He frowns because it’s not the cardboard type, but rather a black box with stripes of metal on its corners. It rattles when Harry places the box on the table, like something heavy fills the chest.
“What’s that?” Peter points at the black chest, his arm resting on the wooden back of his chair. His other hand taps on the keys of his keyboard, but never pressing out to type a letter. “That’s new.”
“It’s not,” Harry chuckles, running a hand through his thin hair. Peter thinks his hairline’s receding due to the lack of thickness in Harry’s hair, other than the fact that Norman Osborn’s on the verge of balding. “I’ve had this since freshman year.”
“High school?”
“College,” snorting, he unlatches the black chest, the soft clicking reverberating in Peter’s ears. “Can you imagine high school me with these things? I’d be an absolute klutz with these things.”
Peter pushes his chair out, sauntering his way towards his friend. He curiously peeks over Harry’s head, seeing folded silk at the upper left corner, followed by a cluster of pink, purple, and black items in weird shapes and curves that hits familiarity in the deep depths of his risqué mind.
That’s when he realizes that they’re “Vibrators,” Peter says out loud, blushing. Though, given the few women he's been with, he can ensure that he's no stranger to such titillating forms of intimacy. His expertise is kept entombed; locked away not out of shame, but the key’s saved for someone he desires to show the doors to.
“Not just vibrators,” Harry’s tongue makes an amused click, his finger tracing the lid. “I’ve got a whole lot of shit here. Bought it all when I turned twenty-one, remember?”
“I don’t think I do,”
“Of course you didn’t. We were drunk out of our minds,” he pats Peter’s back, looking up at him. His smile is proud, like he’s feeling triumphant about the fact he’s being all Christian Grey at the age of twenty-one. “Explored so much with this, I’m proud to say I orgasmed at the fuckin’ Bermuda Triangle.”
Peter shakes his head, a boyish laugh leaving him. “That’s a lie.”
“Obviously,” he turns to look back at the hedonistic pursuits that fills the chest. Harry’s hand digs deep between the vibrant toys, and Peter wonders how unsanitary that must be, regardless if Harry’s ever cleaned them. He pulls out something Peter’s familiar on:
The wand’s body was a rich shade of crimson, similar to the one on his suit. However, its bulbous head dons itself in black rather than blue that matches his renowned attire. The colors match, nonetheless, and he does see that the buttons are round in baby blue.
“Tell you what,” Harry places the wand in Peter’s palm, and god does he hope it’s cleaned. “Take this as an apology. For leaving you. And a gift, because you deserve it.”
With burning cheeks, Peter scratches the back of his ear with his vacant hand. “I always thought this stuff happens in older women’s birthdays.”
“Vibrators are for all!” He roars, pleased with his erotic manifesto.. “Nothing wrong with wanting something to make you squirt, am I right?”
“Now that I think about it, I think I’m pretty glad you’re moving out,”
“Now now, brother. It’s time you face independency,” Harry smacks the chest shut, securing the latch before carrying it in his enormous palm, followed by the quiet jingle of his keys from his pockets.. “I’ll miss you, my best friend.”
He walks Harry out with an arm around his friend’s shoulders, opening the door for him. Peter rolls his eyes at the dramatic pout he gives him. “You’re only ten minutes away.”
Peter hears a small ping in his laptop when Harry leaves. With his receding footsteps, Peter sits back at the chair in front of his old laptop, seeing a message had popped up out of the corner of the screen. The circular icon is accompanied with a red dot on the side, and a blurry picture of a girl with their dog.
Hi! Heard you were looking for a new flat mate?
⋆
This was all Harry’s fault.
Peter can feel his heartbeat in every part of his body: his legs, his ears, his eyes, his hands, and his fucking dick. It's making him feel unsettled, perhaps moreso than Harry's expedition yesterday. Overstimulation is something he was never grateful for when he got bitten, and it had picked out the worst times to throw a tantrum.
You’re expected to be arriving in a few minutes, and he looks like a wreck. His jeans now have a damp spot on his thighs from constantly wiping his sweaty palms. Neophyte limbs forgetting their decorum, Peter walks around his apartment like a lost child, tugging on his unruly hair. His nerves are forming a connivance against its paladin, spasmodic nervousness ticking him off every minute that passes by.
Anamnesis, you weren’t the first to text Peter about the vacant room adjacent to his. Between your icon were two other guys – a man, seemingly in his 40’s with a beard like Seneca Crane’s with a fashion style like a hiker’s, and a guy his age with a badly bleached blonde hair and the mustiest mustache he’s ever seen. It was obvious his choice was you: not because of the ambiance he’s felt from the two other guys, or the fact that you’re a girl, but because…well…
He’s just about to find out.
Think of the stars. Count them in the darkness from the back of your eyes. There’s Alpha caeli, zeta arae, gamma camelopardalis –
The stars are far from their constellations. Peter panics at the fragmented dulcification, clenches and unclenches his trembling fists. Forsooth he blames the sudden overstimulation. And for the third time that week, he curses the radioactive spider.
Peter jumps when he hears the doorbell ring, louder than it should have. He shakes his head to push the erratic beating away from his eyes, walking careful steps to the door that further awaits being opened.
The door opens, and you look at him with an innocent smile.
Like a beautiful, tragic calamity, the star in his heart bursts into a supernova. Galactical seas of purple, blue, and yellow mercurially imbue him before it’s overtaken by the destructive inferno of the ultraviolet star. It swells his throbbing organ, embers withering off into the galaxy.
“Hi,” your voice blows the supernova away, and he returns back to earth where he’s physically in. Peter blinks, patting his hands on the back of his thighs before he remembers he looks like absolute shit. But you don’t seem to mind.
“Um.”
“I’m (y/n),” you don’t give him your hand to shake, but the nervous smile on your face indicates you’ve got the same sweaty hands as he does. “I’m here for-…for the interview?”
Peter nods, too rapid that he shakes his brain. He steps aside with a smile that mimics yours as you gladly step in after you wipe your shoes on the rug.
You take in the apartment well. It’s cleaned – the lack of dust shows he might have cleaned before you arrived. The three-seater couch fits well in the living room, the TV large enough to not strain your eyes. The décor contrasts well to the alabaster walls, and the fact that Peter had decorated this himself seemed surprising because you should definitely see his room back at Aunt May’s.
The whole apartment smells nice. Like freshly baked cookies that makes your mouth water. You don’t realize Peter’s still got his eyes on you until you sit down on the chair placed randomly in front of the couch.
“So,” he speaks out, a waver in his voice as he sits on the couch. He forgets to tell you he’s supposed to be the one on the chair, but all his thoughts dissipate into a blubbering mess. You don’t mind the chair, anyway. “Why are you looking for an apartment?”
That was not the first question.
You answer him, either way. “I wanted to move out of the dorm I stay in at campus,” he can hear the sound your nail makes when you chip them. “I guess, out of some sudden urge to move deeper into independence?”
“Okay,” he drags out his ‘y’, remembering the next question. “How are you with bathrooms?”
It’s obvious his question confuses you, because it confuses him too. “Hm?”
“I’ve never done a good job cleaning the bathroom. So I was wondering if you’re…any good…at cleaning them?” he feels stupid, like he’d asked a sexist question. Peter’s unsure if he did, because your expression is unreadable.
(“Is this guy serious?”)
“I do good, I guess. I’ve never been a fan of dirty bathrooms so I’m very fastidious when it comes to cleaning them.”
He nods. “And smoking?”
“I smoke.” You smile a little. “A lot. Like, my friends had to make an intervention for me with a big poster that had two versions of lungs, the other was what my lungs were going to look like if I didn’t stop smoking. I- sorry. I talk too much.”
“’s all right,” he chuckles. “I smoke a lot too.”
Your shirt exemplifies the contours of your breasts while emphasizing their size. He attempts to pull his gaze away, but instead finds himself tracking his gaze down to the button of your jeans to your thighs, calves swinging and almost brushing his. Peter swallows deeply.
“Do you, uh, not mind living with a guy?”
Incredulous, you let out an angelic laugh. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Look…Peter-” you remember his name from the ad; remember how you repeat his name in your head like a mantra. “- I don’t mind if you take home girls, or guys. I just need a place to stay. I can’t promise I’ll pick up dirty laundry all the time, and I can’t cook for shit nor can I make this place squeaky clean. But I can give you a hell of a good time—God, that sounded prostitute-y.”
Your nervousness sedates him tremendously, and he laughs heartily at your ramble. Peter shakes his head, sitting back to sink into the couch with crossed arms and an endearing smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
“Not prostitute-y, just...a twinge of an innuendo,” he reassures. “Well. I’ve got a few flaws myself. Like, I can’t explain why I have sudden bruises in my face.”
“What? Are you like, in a mob or something?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not,” Peter blushes when you laugh. “I can’t promise you I’ll be clean. This apartment you’re seeing? This is only to persuade you. And you don’t need to worry, I know how to cook, and I don’t bring home random people at night.”
“Just random people’s blood?”
A violent question that he founds oh-so-funny. “Yes. Not dead people’s blood. So you don’t have to worry about that.” Peter watches you sink onto the wooden chair. You pick at the lpse thread of your jeans, twirling it around your fingers before you pull it off.
“As long as I don’t hear loud moaning, I’m fine.”
Your smile is teasing, curved like the Eastern Veil Nebula that’s vibrant and pretty. Dimples apodictic like Peter’s deep laugh that bequeaths you happily silly.
Peter’s unbridled with scrawny handsomeness. His half-lidded gaze has your cheeks burning like the sun, hot enough to render you queasy and yet again nervous. But when he wipes his hands on his thighs and stands up with his hand raised for you to shake, your nervousness ebbs away.
“Feel free to move in whenever you like.”
⋆
899 days pass.
This was all Harry’s fault.
Peter stands outside your open, desolated bedroom. Your bed is made, the LED's on your vanity are switched off, and your make-up is adroitly piled on the edge. It's sanguinely clean, in contrast to his bedroom, which has his filthy clothing placed on top of a chair that has yet to be cleaned.
He likes that even if you’re gone, your room still smells like you – tobacco, vanilla, and the faint scent of wet leaves from the plants by your window. Peter did you a favor and watered them, after being dry for almost three days because you were in too deep into your school works.
He takes one final glance, particularly at the frame mounted beside the window: it was you and Peter at some Halloween party around a year ago. And while you were clad in a skin-tight black outfit with cat ears, he came as Spider-Man (oh, the irony). He donned a store-bought suit, but had pondered wearing his authentic suit since everyone would be too drunk to notice.
With Harry at the far left in a police costume and a fake mustache (and his chest sweaty and exposed), Peter has his arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest with his mask in his hand, smiling drunkenly. You held a cup in your hand, nails long and lithe, head on his shoulder with a scrunched nose and an inebriated, slanted grin.
Pallid at the longing for you, he finally descends your bedroom and closes the door behind him. Peter sighs, scratching the spot behind his ear, half-expecting for his phone to ping at any sign of you.
He's bored out of his mind and decides to have a look about. The flat has altered; it no longer exhibits Harry's bachelor nature, but rather an amalgamation of things you both adore that fit together like a constellation, with furnishings thrifted and adapted to meet the selected ethos.
It's pretty and optimistic, much like you. Peter enjoys being immersed by you, yet he still can't get enough and craves more.
Living with you was easier. You never brought home people, and if you were with one, you’d be gone ‘till the next day, respecting Peter. He’d do the same, however his dates had become a once in a blue moon; something felt missing and it just wasn’t it.
He likes how caring and pristine you are, how you’re comfortable with being a mess around him. And he likes how he feels around you, too. Peter doesn’t need to worry about going home late at night because, tl;dr, you already knew, and you didn’t mind patching him up ever-so often with all your dexterity.
You don’t mind his nightly throes, you don’t mind his blood between your fingers that he washes away, you don’t mind his cheeky smile, or his flirty jokes, or his past, or who he is.
And Peter likes that.
(He also likes the fact that you’re so fucking hot he feels like he’s floating happily in space when you wear those tight mid-riffs and above the knee skirts. Even when your shirt is stained with your agitated tears and your loose sweatpants.)
Startling him, his phone pings loudly in his pockets. Peter groans when he reaches for it, fingers still trembling from the tremendous ache he still feels from the previous night. Clumsily, he pulls his battered phone out, seeing a text from you.
(y/n): coming home in ten xx
Peter smiles in excitement, maybe even almost jumping in his place like a giddy little child. He takes on the liberty to fix the place a bit, and patiently waits for you on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on his phone.
You arrive in less than 10 minutes. The rush in your footfall, which he could hear from distance, gave the impression that you were eager to see him, and your quick heartbeat indicated your excitement. You open the door with a tired smile, your outfit a little askew and your purse half-zipped.
Then he remembers you just came from a date and he probably wasn’t the reason behind your smile.
“Hey doll,” your heartbeat quickens at the sobriquet. “How was your date?”
Peter ignores the ache in his heart that his words gave; tries to hide the jealousy his question bore as you answer him. “Fucking sucked. He’s like Harry, but with little to no respect.”
“Harry’s not that bad,” he chuckles, standing up abruptly. His wounds open a little, and Peter tries to hide the discomfort through his smile, not wanting to worry you.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. He just really sucked,” you throw your purse on the couch with a sigh. “Bet you heard how fast my footsteps were, though. Couldn’t wait to get home.”
Smiling, he teases you. “I’m flattered, (y/n).”
“Yeah yeah,” you smack his chest lightly with the back of your hand. He follows you to the kitchen, watching you remove your shoes as you walk through, throwing it aside and decided to clean it later, maybe the next day.
The floor is cold beneath your bare feet, sending shivers up your spine. Your dress shines beneath the dim luminescence of the kitchen light, a star desolated in the middle of the galaxy that Peter’s got his eye on. The white glow of the refrigerator light reflects on your face, bending over to take out a bowl of pineapples.
Even still, Peter follows you as you take a seat on the countertop, swinging your feet as you take the cling wrap off the glass bowl and take the fruit between your fingers, taking a bite.
Peter takes one too, standing in front of you with his back resting against the wall adjacent to you. “Tell me about the date,”
You look at Peter. There’s a side of you that hopes he can show just how jealous he is through his curious gaze, and the other aching for you to just call him out. “Like I said, it was bad,” you shrug, chewing on the fruit. “First, he was ten minutes late.”
He makes a hiss out of judgement. “One point taken.”
“Then he wore the most absurd thing ever. Well, not absurd, but he made me look like I was too overdressed. He wore short khakis, Peter,” your eyes widen. “Short khakis. And, I don’t know, a nyan cat shirt.”
“A nyan cat?”
Peter reaches out for another pineapple, and you hand him the bowl. “A fucking nyan cat. Who wears that to a date?”
He chuckles at your agitation despite the fact that he shouldn't. When Peter says he's thrilled about how poorly your date went, it sounds awful. He doesn't love the sadness, but he does appreciate the fact that you're still open.
He hopes you know what he means.
“I’m sorry your date went bad, (y/n),” his heel kicks him off the wall, his vacant hand reaching out to rub the tense muscle on your right shoulder. Peter smiles when he sees you visibly relax beneath his touch.
“No you’re not,” you smirk, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right,” he pulls his hand back. “I’m not.”
A meteor of unforeseen confidence, Peter steps closer and stands between your legs. Your dress rides up, set halfway on your thigh. He still chews on his pineapple, his eyes on yours as you gradually peel your eyes open.
Irises like Ara, his knees weaken at your unsanctified eyes. You know the place is filled with thrifted furniture and unresolved, salacious tension that fills your head with ribald imaginations you think will Peter never let you go for. It’s wrong to imagine him take you anywhere in your shared apartment, bending you over and take you from behind, spitting out such unholy things that get you wetter and sweeter at each dulcet word he releases in your ear.
“Why’d you go on that date, anyway?” he murmurs, lips wet from his tongue that licks the delectable taste of pineapple.
You pop the last piece in your mouth. “Thought I could find a good fuck,” Peter’s unsurprised by your bawdy confession, getting used to conversations like these. “It’s been a month and I need to release my stress.”
The bowl is behind you. Peter reaches for the dish, his chest meeting yours and his nose just by your eyes. You smell him – cigarettes, faint blood, cinnamon; it brings a hot pool between your legs, and you clench your thighs together.
You shouldn’t be that horny. It’s just cinnamon. And cigarettes. And blood.
He pulls back with a pineapple between his lips. Peter bites, chews and swallows, and says, “Couldn’t you have approached me?”
Well, cat’s out of the bag. No take backs.
Peter perceives you fluster beneath his gaze from the Freudian slip, an abdication between bravado and modesty. Your body tries to acclimate at his raunchy reply, uncertain of how to react. When you opt to unwind and shrug, drawing closer, the tension crescendos into a pinnacle.
“Wouldn’t have been appropriate,”
“How so?”
“Well, we’re flat mates,” you take a bite. “We live together. We’re practically like siblings.”
He deflates, a wave of un-comfort and humor. “Please don’t say that. It’s gross.”
“I’m sorry,” you chuckle, placing a hand on his bicep. You feel his scar through the thin fabric of his shirt, puzzling in just right on your palm. “I’m saying, flat mates don’t fuck.”
Peter rolls his eyes. “Says who?”
“The principles of sex and love,”
“And who made that?”
“I did,” you smile up at him, cheeky. “I made it ever since I hooked up with my roommate back at campus.”
“Is that why you moved out?”
Hesitance halters your words, but you give in a second later. “Yes. Because I wanted to be with her and she didn’t. And I made it awkward and I couldn’t handle it so I moved out.”
Your finger traces the crevices of his biceps, dipping in the curves of his scars of heroism. Peter’s eyes never leave your curious face. “Do these principles count to a guy?”
A shrug. “I don’t know,” you murmur.
The boy is enamored by the taunting, tempting glance you give him. You're a sui generis edgier force in your own right. A burgeoning stargirl in the creation. A woman who is eclectically spurred by autonomy and utilizes confidence as your new power. You're valiant, and your origins are vast.
“You want to try it out?”
You take a bite of your pineapple, and release the sweet fruit with the gentle sound of your suckle. Peter's sense of sight dials up even higher, watching the visual that makes him lick his lips unconsciously.
(And to you, the sight of the thick muscle escaping his unholy mouth sends heat to the altar between your legs, kneeling before you with a mouth that begs atonement; a mouth that aches to taste you.)
Peter wipes the juice from the corner of your lips with his thumb, then raises it to his mouth and sucks the exquisite ambrosia from his skin, and he swears he can taste you. You all but moan, biting your lip. “You fucking drive me insane," he murmurs as he traces your wet lips with his thumb. Your mouth ajar, following his movements before he presses his thumb onto the pad of your tongue.
You suddenly forget the stupid principle in your head, too driven by the arousal that agitates your skin. Peter pushes his thumb deeper until you gag around him, and he pulls his thumb out when you look up at him lustfully.
Leaning in to graze your lips on the lobe of his right ear, you card your fingers through his thick hair, tugging slightly. You smirk when he moans quietly. “Fuck me good then maybe I’ll change my mind.”
The mood switches. Like the warm light turns scarlet red, darkening the dusk in your physiques, Peter plants a hard kiss on your lips. The flavor of pineapple exchanged through heavy breaths and explored tongues, probing his muscle in your mouth. His hands wander up to hold you small face in his large palms, yours pulling on his neck.
His lips are soft in juxtaposition to his rough handling, pulling you closer to his chest. Peter’s hands pull on the zipper at the back of your dress, almost ripping it off out of eagerness. You gasp when he does so, calloused skin caressing your soft back.
“Taste so fucking good,” he growls against your lips. “Had to wait two years for this. Why’d you make me wait, princess?”
Your clothed crotch grinds on the prominent bulge aching to pop out, smirking when he moans again. “Mm, but you liked it, right? Thought you liked waiting? The tension?”
“Fucking tease,” he chuckles, biting your bottom lip. “You feel that baby? Feel how hard you made me? Got me feelin’ like a fuckin’ virgin; like I’ve got a goddamn rock inside my sweats. I’m aching for you."
Hungry hands palm him, pumping him through his sweatpanrs. “I can fucking feel it,” you purr. You feel it go slightly damp, and when he feels it, too, Peter tugs your hand away. His other hand pulls on your hair, a moan escaping your lips when he does so. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s wet.”
Peter’s eyes darken, his supernova turns into a black hole of lust and starvation. His hands roughly palm your right breast, rolling his thumb over your hardened nipple through your dress. Finally, he pulls the strap down your shoulder, leaning in to bite on your collarbone.
“You want a taste?” he taunts you as you pull on the strings of his sweats. “Get on your knees, then.”
It’s amusing how quick you obliged, letting your dress fall down to the ground. Peter’s eyes land on your exposed chest, lips wanting to wrap themselves on your pebbled buds, but unable to because you sink to the ground, your knees holding you up.
Peter pulls his sweats down, followed by his shirt, smelling the arousal that ruins your underwear. You gasp quietly at the lack of briefs he’s wearing, cock springing up to slap on his stomach.
He is achingly hard, with the tip swell and red, leaking of pre cum. You lick your lips, nails scraping against his thighs before you boldly lick a stripe from his shaft to the tip, sucking on the head.
Effervescently, Peter lets out a sound between a groan and a whimper, the sound ricocheting between the kitchen walls and the marble countertop. You sink your mouth deeper, tongue beneath his cock and his tip hitting the back of your throat when your nose hits his pelvis.
“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re taking me so good.”
His girth is almost unbearable in your mouth when you drag up, enclosing your cheeks around his cock before you sink down in a swift motion. You gag around him, tears swelling your eyes.
Peter thinks the mascara down your cheeks is a masterpiece, beautiful like Andromeda in the sky. You look up at him, eyes wide, wild, sultry yet innocent at the same time. Like the fucking tease you were, your lips wrap around his tip before sinking down halfway, pumping the bottom with your right hand, the left fondling with his balls beneath.
You pull out, pumping him still. “Want to fuck my face, Pete?”
He groans, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You don’t need his confirmation, because soon his hips are thrusting in your mouth, rougher than you expected but you don’t care. Peter’s cock disappears in your mouth, whimpering when you gag around him.
“That’s it,” a hearty groan. “Fuck. Bet you love this, don’t you? On your knees?” you hum around his shaft, pulling out to kitten-lick his tip before sinking back in. Both his hands are on the back of your head, fucking your face like he’s always wanted to do. Your mouth is full of him, your scent is full of him, and your eyesight is full of him; nonetheless you don’t complain, because being on your knees for him gets you cock drunk enough.
He goes deeper, his cock almost right at your throat. You breathe through your nose, exhaling heavily. “That’s it. Take it like a good fucking girl. Ah – fuck.”
Merciless. His muscles retract at every thrust, and your eyes water at every gag. Peter cries out when your hands squeeze a little around his cock, feeling him get closer on edge at every push. You squeeze at his balls before you twist your hands around his shaft, following his thrusts.
You moan around him, vibrating his dick that draws out a loud groan from the man above you. You can feel his bulging veins against your tongue, saliva and arousal dripping down your chin to your exposed breasts.
Finally, he cums harder than he ever has before, voice loud and vocally thankful of your service. With a loud, scandalous groan, he releases his seed into the back of your throat. The luscious rye gets you inebriated on the delectable wine that tastes of sweet and salty.
Peter pulls you up to your feet, gathering up the spit you made and pushing it back into your mouth with his thumb, popping it out with a smile. “Fucking amazing, doll. Did so good for me.”
He kisses you like it’s the last time, your hands scraping on his chest, feeling the sweat stick to your palm. Peter moves down to bite your neck, doesn’t stop until he’s sure it’ll leave a mark. He lifts you up until you sit on the counter, bare ass meeting the cold marble.
“Think you can return the favor?” you pant, tugging on the roots of his hair. “My mind’s still isn’t changed, Pete.”
Peter kisses his way down – leaving generous sucks to your breasts and pleasurable bites on your pebbled buds, licking down to your pelvis that he bites petulantly. His fingers trail up to your calves until they trace the lace of your underwear, hooking them around his fingers before ever so slowly pulling them down to your ankles.
You’re leaking onto the countertop, and he wastes no time in pushing you backwards so that he’s got a better view of your exposed cunt. Peter grows hard again, looking up at your begging eyes before he gives you what you want.
From your ass to your clit, his tongue journeys up to your bud, sucking at the engorged clit before he laps up your sweetness through your folds, going down to teasingly prod his tongue at your puckered hole before going up to your clit again.
“Shit, Peter,” you throw your head back, hands on his brown locks. Honey-brown eyes meet yours between your legs, and you can feel his smirk against you when you moan loudly as his fingers sink inside you, clenching around his limbs. “Fuck,”
“That’s it,” he feels the spongey spot inside you, finding out it’s your g-spot when you cry out loud, biting your lip out of embarrassment. “Take it baby.” His other hand goes up to pull your bottom lip off your teeth, tugging it down. "What? Don't go shy on me now. You don't think I hear you? You're pretty loud, especially when you use your toy. Rubbing that thing up your greedy fucking pussy. God, you don't even know how hard I get when I hear you moan my name."
You chuckle at his confession. “These walls aren’t paper thin, Peter. If you think you heard those by accident, you’re so fucking wrong.”
He continues to suck on your clit, continues to fuck you with his fingers, continues teasing both your clenching holes. Because Peter enjoys watching your cunt spasm at his touch. He lets his tongue fuck you, moaning when you clench tightly around his thick muscle.
“I’m close,” you breathe out. “I’m so fucking wet Peter. I’m already close.”
Capriciously, Peter stops. You whimper as he stands up, and he’s unpleased by your reaction as a frown settles between his eyebrows. He slaps the tip of his cock on your clit. “Why’re you whining, (y/n). Greedy girl. Wait here for a bit, will you?”
He’s quick to his feet when he disappears into the bedroom. Waiting for at least ten seconds, he reappears with his webshooter on his left hand, and a toy in his right– scarlet head, black body, blue buttons. The wand makes your mouth water, and he places it beside you as Peter gives you a hungry kiss.
In a swift motion, he turns you around. Peter places the wand in front of where your clit is, webs the toy on the countertop before he bends you over, the head hitting your clit as he calculated. You moan at his handling, his hand on the back of your neck.
“You still on the pill?” Peter whispers in her ear. “You feel too fucking good for me to just wear a condom, doll.”
“Yeah,” you nod, eyes closing when his nose rubs on your cheek. Peter holds his cock in his hand, penetrating your hole with his tip before finally pushing in.
Divine. Like angels had come down and taken you with them, but your soul falls down into the deep depths of hell from the unholy act of his bare cock pushing in your tight walls. His hands grasp tightly at your waist, moaning loudly together the neighbors would file a complaint the next day.
It's not his powers healing him - it's you. It's your touch that mends his soul with the mere act of immorality. Your runes mending his skin as it burns itself on his pearlescent body. “So tight, baby,” he breathes out. “So amazing. Feel so amazing. Gonna let me fuck you hard like the whore you are?”
“Yes,” you moan. “Give it to me.”
Ever the obedient, Peter slams himself onto you. His other hand turns the vibrator on, and you practically scream with the intense pleasure. Peter fucks you into oblivion, slamming at a pace unrecoverable.
A feeling that takes him to Caelum; your eyes as round and beautiful as Callisto, bright like the moon. His skin on yours is euphorically amorous; mind nebulous. “You’re such a good cocksleeve, doll. So fucking amazing. My whore, getting what she wants, making me prove her stupid principles wrong.”
You meretriciously reach behind you to grasp at his forearm, hand choking you from behind. His cock opens you up, stretches you out as Peter continues to pound from behind you. You feel his cold spit dribble down your neglected hole, his thumb tracing before pushing it inside your ass.
It’s painful but bearable, because you like the pain that he gives you. Greedily taking all that he gives as his cock goes deep that his tip bulges out your pelvis. The vibrator never hinders down, abusing your swollen clit while his thumb fucks your ass. And you’re scratching: countertops. Your back arched like a cat as his position lets him keep on hitting it, crying because you love him the feeling of his cock too much.
Peter lets go of your neck, hands caressing your back in an act of care. It’s what alleviates the heavy feeling of abhorrent fornication. His scandalous words are gloriously poisonous, but with mithridatism in your veins, you handle the sweet hemlock. Then he pulls your back to his chest leaving the vibrator buzzing and coated with your arousal, bodies paralleled as he fucks you into another universe by a force unfathomably powerful.
But he pulls the vibrator off the counter, despite the sticky webbing. With his balls slamming on yours from behind, with his thumb leaving your hole, he puts the vibrator against your clit, overstimulating you more.
“That’s it,” he moans when he hits your spot, squeezing him. “I’m close. You close baby?”
Lost of words, you nod. He slams with a couple of more thrusts, before he shoots his warm cum inside you. You follow obediently, cumming on his cock. He doesn’t pull out yet, slowly fucking you still.
Peter is as magnificent as the veil nebula in the constellation Cygnus. You soar in cosmos, admiring Peter's blue and purple glories being as the remnant of the beautiful catastrophe of a supernova. You admire the glacial haze, too infatuated with his splendor.
⋆
Peter wipes the drag on the mess between your legs, apologizing when he touches your stinging cunt from the stimulation. He plants a small kiss on your naked collarbone, then a sweet kiss on your tired, puffy lips.
“Are your principles changed?” he murmurs against your lips, looking at you. Peter thinks you’re the most beautiful star in all galaxies, beaming boldly beneath him.
You giggle, finger tracing his jawline. “I guess.”
You hide your face in his chest, Peter plants a soft kiss on your forehead. The fucking wore him out, resting his head on top of yours. And you’re still naked on the countertop.
This was definitely all Harry’s fault.
༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺
#tasm#tasm smut#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm fanfiction#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter x you#peter parker x reader#peter parker oneshot#peter parker x you#the amazing spiderman#the amazing spiderman 2#tasm!peter parker smut#peter parker smut#andrew garfield fic#peter parker fic#indouloureux's writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! I loved your Andrew fic and I was wondering if I could request an Andrew fic where both him and the reader are costars, they've already acted together before in a movie and have had this great friendship and there's been a spark ever since they first met, like they know there's something more than friendship between them but they're scared to try it out. But when they're working together for their second movie, which is a romance once, they end up dating? Thank you <33
the sweetener you are
(andrew garfield x co-star reader)
hi anon!! tysm for requesting! i hope this is what u want! <3 pls don't be afraid to ask more, i love it when u guys talk to me ☁️
contents : friends to lovers, fluff, idk just rlly sweet <3 (sorry for any typos or incorrect grammars !)
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
as an actress who works in the film industry, it is a strict rule for co-stars to not fall in love with each other. mostly because it's all an act. if one thing goes wrong, then everything will probably come tumbling down.
it all started when the two of you worked together. you met the andrew garfield for a project and you two instantly clicked together.
you have always admired him. the dedication and passion he puts onto his works are incredible. so working with him is so exciting for you. he also loved your last movie. andrew told you how talented you are as an actress and he's ecstatic to finally work with you.
ever since you met, he always does small but yet sweet things for you. like he will pull out your chair, offers you his scarf if you're cold during filming, give you flowers after a tiring week of shooting, bring you your favourite drink and snacks.
you thought of it as a best friend and gentleman kind of thing because you don't want to jump into conclusions but you know there's something in there since you don't see him doing these things to other people.
he greets you with a "good morning" every day and brings you breakfast too. you told him that none of that was necessary but you accepted anyway.
andrew calls you in his free time even after the movie was finished and done. you two had grown a sweet little friendship and he enjoys talking and spending time with you, like today when you're in your dressing room, taking all of your make up off. "hello? [y/n] are you there?" his voice came from the other line. you put him on speaker so you could continue taking those make up off.
"yes, hi! do you need something, andy?" you spoke.
"why do you immediately think i'm calling you because i'm in need of something?" he joked.
"no, s'not like that," you paused to let out a laugh, "just a habit, i guess, i don't know. but do you need something though?"
"what are you doing now? hope i'm not interrupting something,"
"in my dressing room- getting ready for bed,"
"it's five in the evening,"
"and what about it!"
"i was wondering if you'd like to come to mine for a movie night, but if you need your beauty sleep then we can forget i ever said that,"
you let out a laugh, smiling in the mirror to yourself. "do i need to wear a versace dress or is a shirt fine?"
"as much as i love seeing you in a fancy dress looking like a million dollar pay-check, you in normal clothes are beautiful to me too,"
you blushed profusely, disliking the way he makes you feel but enjoying it at the same time. "i'll meet you there, is six good?"
"sure, six is fine. i'll pick you up by the way, walking alone in the streets is not worth it as much as i hate to say it. also i'm grabbing dinner for us so don't tell me that i don't have to do it,"
you smiled for the millionth time because of this man. you sometimes wonder if he's just really that nice to everyone or is it just to you. he is a kind man so it shouldn't really be a question.
"alright, see you soon!" you said before he returned the greet and ended the call. a few minutes passed and your phone lit up, andrew's message had delivered to you and he said he's outside the building.
"hello stranger, why are you in my property?" you squinted your eyes to him, biting back a smile.
"hello to you too, i'm here to pick someone named [y/n] [l/n]. do you happen to know where she is?" he played along as he opened the door of his car.
"hmm... i think she's sitting in your car," said you, getting inside his car.
"silly me, i should get my eyes checked," he said smiling before he went back to the driver's seat. "i bought us dinner by the way," his thumb pointing behind him.
you looked over to the back seat to see a pack of uncooked meal and frozen fruits. you almost laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "oh absolutely! i'm eating raw chicken, frozen lemons, and raw eggs for dinner. so amazing! i give the andrew garfield restaurant a five-star review and a five-star service!"
"now don't make fun of me! that chinese restaurant closed right before i arrived and the pizza place across the street was so packed. i was thinking we can cook together, you know i really really love your cooking," he peered over at the rearview mirror to look at your face as he emphasised the word 'love'.
"okay, fine," you agreed. the drive was short and calm, you two talked about how much the two of you had grown.
just a year ago, you met him for the first time in a movie screen test and he was a stuttering and awkward mess. he tripped over your leg when you got up from your chair, but you laughed about it now. "i was so nervous to meet you because you're like so professional and i'm just- stood there watching you say all the words in your script-" he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the ends.
when you arrived at his place, he opened the door for you to walk in and brought the grocery bag to the kitchen, setting it down. you made dinner for the both of you before settling down on the sofa to watch a movie together.
he laid beside you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around you protectively as he pulled you closer to him. you thought of this as a friendly gesture because his flat is freezing cold. he knows you're cold, so he's sharing his warmth with you, but you can't deny the fact that there's something in your stomach, like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
the thing is, you didn't know that he's purposely making his apartment cold so he can have you close like this. he loves it when you press your cheek to his shoulder.
as the movie ended, he looked down only to see you fast asleep. he smiled down at your peaceful state, wishing the two of you have more than just a friendship (though he is grateful either way). he knew exactly what his feeling is towards you and maybe by chance he knew you felt the same way too, but the friendship you had going on was too important to him to be ruined.
he didn't realise that he's lost in his trance until he felt your head turned to the other side, your eyelids fluttering because you're dreaming so he tuck you in his bed, and turn the night light on. that night he slept on the sofa; he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.
as that routine goes on and on, the feelings between you two were sparking more and more.
one tuesday morning, you woke up to a call from liz, your manager, she told you that you got in this role for a romance movie and filming will start in two weeks. you were beyond happy to get this role because you loved how sweet and dreamy the storyline is and you're also excited to fly across the globe to film it.
it was until then that you realised your co-star is once again, andrew garfield, your best friend. you're going to be his love interest in this film. you're going to be kissing him, you're going to-
"[y/n] you're here!" the director greeted you. she smiled and waved at you, "it's really nice to see you. i'm honoured to be working with someone as brilliant as you are. i trust you in this role, i know you and andrew will have awesome chemistry to bring this to life."
"thank you! i will not disappoint i promise," you let out a small laugh. a few seconds later, andrew walked in, his presence sweet and his aura bright.
you talked together in depth about what the director wants to see in this film and how the characters are supposed to be. she's very specific so it's quite easy for you to hop on her boat and went along with her sail.
the filming went smoothly, you and andrew were so good together that sometimes the director really thought that you both are in love. well, maybe she's not entirely wrong... ?
"oh my god i'm going to kiss you in less than 45 minutes," andrew said out of the blue when the crew were taking a break for lunch. he was sitting on the floor across from you. reading the script as he casually took a large bite of his burger.
you almost choked at what he said. he said it so normally that you almost didn't catch up on what he's actually saying. "don't eat garlic or any of those sorts please," you replied, biting back a smile as you ignored the butterflies at the thought of it.
"oh i will never!" he chuckled, feeling the blood rushed into his cheeks, so scarlet it was maroon. he's excited to kiss you actually. he has been dreaming on how's it like feeling your lips against his. he knew it will be the best feeling in the world. he knows he will not regret this.
the break is over and it's time for them to... kiss?
"one, two, three, action!"
andrew placed his hand on your face, tugging it closer to him. you felt your breath hitched, the smell of him covering your nostrils. you were lost and long gone in his scent until you came back to reality when andrew pressed his lips to yours.
his tongue made its way inside your mouth and you almost broke out of character when you noticed the peppermint flavour. prior to this, he brushed his teeth profusely and ate packs of mint leaves.
his lips were incredibly soft, they moved ever so slowly with yours, you could melt. your hands went up to his hair as his went down your waist. the feeling was just like the movies. everything went in slow motion, everything is spinning around.
"cut!" the director yelled, seemingly satisfied by the shot. "awesome, [y/n], andrew!" she gave the two of you a thumbs up.
now you moved along with the script, trying to ignore the sparks in your stomach. when the scenes for the day were all finished, andrew walked you back to your dressing room. by the looks of it, he seemed like he wanted to say something.
"okay well hello," he started, clearing his throat.
"hi?" you knitted your brows as you smile at him.
"i want to tell you something actually, something i've been hiding for a while now," he said it in a low whisper, taking baby steps over your carpet.
"okay, c'mere sit with me,"
"you know the kiss? i really enjoyed it," he cringed at his words, wishing it had come out better.
you smiled, crimson creeping up your cheeks. "me too," you nodded.
"yes, well- i know this sounds truly crazy," he shook his head, closing his eyes. "but i really have to tell you that i have- feelings that i feel for you... and by this i mean like in a romantic way. i can ruin our friendship and make my comfort person despise me but i'm giving it a shot anyway."
since we've met i can't stop thinking about you. how your day is or- or how you are feeling that day. i feel like i can be myself around you, and the thing is, i'm rarely being myself. i come to you in by best days and talk to you in my worst days because i trust you. i hope you know that you can trust me too."
you stayed silent, processing what you just heard. you never thought he will confess to you, but he just did. "um [y/n]? please answer me right now because i'm freaking out."
"i feel feels too to you," now it's your turn to cringe on what you just said. "i mean- i feel the same way, i really like you. wholeheartedly."
"okay," a genuine smile spread across his face as he leaned forward to bump his nose on yours. "can we kiss now? is this the right time to kiss like in the movies?"
"sure," you laughed but your voice were quickly shut up by his lips. this time you weren't acting. you two were actually kissing off screen with real feelings behind them. this time, it was much better. he kissed you with more passion and tenderness than earlier.
he didn't want to pull apart but he did anyway as for breathing is a need to keep on living. "i never thought your lips would be so soft. not gonna lie, i'm pretty sure your lips were dry," you said jokingly, rubbing his knuckles that sat on your cheekbone.
"i use lip balm before i go to bed religiously after i found out that we're gonna kiss," he admitted. "for good impressions.."
you laughed at him, your heart practically melting underneath your ribs. "i will still like you if you have crocodile skin lips anyway," you shrugged.
"stop that," he laughed. before you know it, his lips were on yours for the third time that day, and you wouldn't want to have it in any other way.
since then, the two of you have been the happiest creatures on the planet. you always woke up to him by your side or him on top of you, completely covering you like a blanket. he will greet you with small kisses on your forehead and hold your hand whenever he can. he is the definition of a gentleman and the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.
"morning, lovie! it's premiere day!" andrew whispered to you one morning in his apartment. you were in his arms, face hiding in his neck.
"don't wanna wake up," you mumbled. "i slept at four am yesterday, so sleepy."
"i know, love," he smiled, kissing your nose. you love those nicknames he gave you. when he calls you using pet names, your heart is like a field of blossoming flowers. "once we came back, you can be a bear hibernating throughout winter and i will stay by your side for the whole season, but now we have to get up."
"fine," you rolled over, grabbing the blanket with you so andrew is left with nothing but his pj's and the cold air around the room.
"hey you're evil!" he quickly rolled himself to a ball next to you. "i don't know why i'm dating you."
"you date me because i'm your favourite person and you're in love with me."
he chuckled, nuzzling his head to the crook of your neck. "i love you, so can you please share the blanket with me? how dare you leave your loving boyfriend shaking from the cold."
"you should really install a heater in here to avoid situations like these," you dodged him nonchalantly.
"you should really consider sharing our blanket to avoid situations like these."
"the blanket is all yours, i'm taking a shower!" you jumped up from the bed and ran to the bathroom but your steps were stopped midway when andrew pulled you back.
"i'm not letting you go from me without a kiss."
#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x actress!reader#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield imagine
339 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, babe!! Congrats on 1k! You definitely deserve it 🥰 can we get a 🌷 with tasm!Peter with the prompts;
"Yeah, you're cold, I'm giving you my jacket."
"Are you blushing?"
Love you! 💗
_cold outside
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
based on: Yeah, you're cold, I'm giving you my jacket." "Are you blushing?"
summary: when Peter thinks you got hurt, he immediately comes to you, forgetting about the weather outside.
words: 888
a/n: thank you so much for this request baby, I added a little twist that I found funny when I got the idea I hope you will like it 👀 I love you too ♥️
join my secret garden for my 1k celebration 🌸
“I told you; you didn’t have to come Peter.” You laughed, looking at him.
When you told Peter you were going skiing with your family for the weekend, he wasn’t a big fan of the idea. Not because he wasn’t coming, he could let his girlfriend alone. But because he was certain you would get hurt at any moment. No matter how many times you told him that there were no risk it would happen, that you would be careful, Peter was still scared.
The first day went perfectly well. You had a lot of fun with your family and send some pictures to Peter to show him how everything was alright, and nobody got hurt. Specially not yourself. This morning, you took the time to call him when your parents and your siblings decided to go on a higher ski run. You were telling him you did yesterday and what you planned on doing today when something happened.
All Peter heard on the phone was “Oh my god! No, no, no…” so of course, he imagined the worst scenarios. You fell down and broke your ankle, someone just ran into you and hurt you, there was an avalanche coming. It was terrible for him to not be able to tell what was going on, on your side and if you were alright. So, he took his own decision. “Don’t move love, I’m coming.”
“What?” your voice was shaking and very low compared to before. “No, you don’t have to come Peter!” but it was too late. He had already put on his Spiderman suit and was ready to come to you as fast as possible.
And when he arrived, Peter understood that he might have exaggerated. When he saw you, you were drinking a hot chocolate with your little sister. Clearly not hurt at all. “Peter?” you said, frowning when you recognized the blue and red suit before he hid. You apologized to your sister before finding your boyfriend, changing himself in a cabin. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you got hurt!” he sighed, already regretting to not have put on some warmer clothes.
“What? No! My sister fell down earlier, and I just got scared for her. If you listened to me before jumping on the building Spidey, you would know.” You laughed, putting a kiss on his lips. You were happy to see your boyfriend here. You were so used to spend all your time with Peter that it felt empty without him.
“[y/n]? You’re here?” your little sister said behind the door. When you opened it, you saw the surprise on her face when she noticed Peter by your sides. “He surprised me!” you said with a happy tone, hugging Peter tightly to which he responded with a smile on his face.
“Ok…well the parents are waiting, you should come.”
Your parents immediately accepted for Peter to stay with you for the rest of the trip. They loved your boyfriend so much you were sure they were already planning your wedding behind your back.
While you were walking outside, next to Peter, you noticed how he was shivering. Or, actually, you noticed how he was wearing a shirt when it was freezing outside. But this man was too stubborn to tell you that he was frozen to death. He turned his head when he noticed you were undoing your winter jacket. “Care to explain what you’re doing?”
"Yeah, you're cold, I'm giving you my jacket." You replied, taking it off and putting it on Peter’s shoulders. Of course, he was debating, saying he was going to let you be cold when he should have thought about it, or how he was the boyfriend that should do that not the other way around to which you replied with a tap behind his head. “Take my jacket Pete, It’s too big for me anyway. I’m going to take my sister’s since she’s done skiing for today.” You kissed his cheek to end the discussion.
It wasn’t until a few steps later than you noticed the red on Peter’s cheeks. You knew he was still cold from staying outside for too long. But there was something different. It wasn’t only the cold that colored his cheek. “Pete?” you asked, trying to get him to look at you. Since he was still looking right in front of him, you knew you were right. "Are you blushing?"
“No,” he mumbled under his breath in the less convincing way. You fell for his reaction and couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re the cutest boyfriend in the world, you know that?” you put at least ten kisses all over his face until he started laughing.
“Ok, ok, I get it.” He replied, taking your face in his hands. “I just feel stupid. If we were in a movie, I would be the one giving you, my jacket.”
“Maybe. But can we appreciate that, for once, I’m the one saving your life, Spidey?” you asked with a smile. You caressed his neck and slowly pushed his face closer to yours. “Let me appreciate my moment.” You said before kissing him. The kiss didn’t last long because you were already cold, and your gesture would have meant nothing. But you liked the idea that Peter needed you too.
#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x reader#peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker fic#tasm!Peter Parker story#tasm!peter x you#andrew garfield#Andrew garfield imagine#andrew garfield fic#Andrew garfield x reader#Andrew garfield x you#my writing#1k celebration
342 notes
·
View notes
Text
Saints and Sinners || Under the Banner of Heaven
[Jeb Pyre x fem!Reader]
Summary: Jeb falls prey to his darkest temptations while working a case.
Warnings: adult graphic smut, a cheating fic, heavy LDS religious themes and traumas, brief mentions of the murder of sex workers, light fem!dom/male!sub roles but nothing too crazy, brining it back to the religious trauma stuff - a lot of strong feelings of being trapped in a family/religion you don't feel like you belong in, if you are someone who feels offended with merging religion and sexual themes then this is not the fic for you
Note: "Reader" is nicknamed Daisy as her stage name as a stripper/sex worker. She has no physical descriptions apart from having female anatomy/a human body and wearing a sun dress. She can look however you'd want her to which is what makes her a reader character. Apart from that, she is her own character.
Jeb Pyre considered himself to be a decently good man.
He was well groomed. He was respectful. He loved his family. He gave his job 100% and loved his neighbors.
He was a devout son of the Heavenly Father.
Or, at least, he used to be.
He had been hiding his true self for his family's sake. He was trying, but failing, to keep up his appearance of perfection. Every day was a new struggle to keep up his flawless Latter-day smile. Docile and submissive. Never making waves. Never voicing questions. Day after day, trapped in his own mind, slowly being eaten alive by his ever growing doubt. It was only a matter of time before he cracked.
She was his forbidden fruit. The temptress sent straight from the devil to corrupt his soul. The snake in his garden.
His latest case had led him straight to her doorstep. There were sex workers in the city being murdered. A killer who vowed to cleanse his city from their filth. Jeb hadn’t even known there were sex workers living in his area. He’d never even seen a strip club before he was forced to step inside one to investigate. It was a terrifying world he wasn’t sure how to navigate.
She had taken his hand and led him through the darkness.
Daisy. That’s what she called herself. Her stage name. She had told him it was after Daisy Buchanan. The paragon of perfection for men to lust after but hiding a sardonic, amoral soul. It seemed to fit. She was the kind of woman he’d leave a green light on for but never be able to obtain. He knew her real name for his investigation but she refused to have him call her by such. She claimed only the people who truly loved her were allowed to utter her true name. To everyone else, she was just Daisy.
He used to believe that all sex workers were women who needed saving. They had lost their way from God. They were impure. Drug addicts. Abused. Lost souls desperate to be saved.
But she fit none of those roles.
She was strong and sure. A business woman. A homeowner. She didn’t need a man to provide for her. Everything she owned was achieved through her own tenacity. When he looked at her, he saw someone who truly enjoyed their job. He struggled to wrap his head around that fact. A woman shouldn’t enjoy having sex for a living. She shouldn’t enjoy selling her body to perverted men. She should remain pure and devout until marriage. He often wondered what her future husband would think of her lewd, depraved acts.
And then he remembered that she never wanted to marry.
What an absurd thought. A woman with no desire for a husband? Utterly bizarre.
She was unlike any woman he had ever met and he was tempted by the wickedness of her world. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew better than to dance with the devil. Yet, here he was. Allowing her to occupy every existing thought in his brain. She was the one he thought about late at night. She was the name he moaned into his pillow in the early hours of the morning while his wife slept beside him. She was the one he dreamed of being able to touch.
The one thing he couldn’t have, was the one thing he truly coveted. For Jeb Pyre was a sinner. He wasn't a devout man. He didn’t believe in the Heavenly Father.
And he hated the life he was forced to be living.
Everything was an act and he was tired of playing his part.
So, when a killer murdered two of her work acquaintances, and put her in his targets, Jeb decided to personally oversee her protection. After all, she had been such a help to the investigation thus far. He needed to keep his best informant alive.
Even if that meant risking everything he had to spend the night in her arms.
Jeb parked his car on the street directly outside of her house. From out here, one would never know what kind of person she was. It looked no different than any other house on the block. He wondered if her neighbors had any idea. He couldn’t imagine if they knew, they would let her stay in the neighborhood without a fight. They’d blame it on the guise of protecting their innocent children from the evil whore but the truth was that they hated anyone who dared to step outside their carefully crafted circle. They hated those different from them.
But who were her clients then, if not the men who claimed to hate everything about her?
Everything was a facade. He was so used to hearing people say one thing but act the opposite. The men who would run her from their neighborhood if they knew the truth, were the same men who would cash out their family’s credit card to spend a night with her. Publically, they would denounce her. Privately, they would take whatever they desired from her.
He was no different from them. The perverse thoughts inside his head were just as bad, if not worse. He had seen too much in this job. It had twisted his core. His mind was polluted. He was lusting down paths he could never travel.
Jeb rapped three, strong knocks on her door. It was later in the evening. He knew she wasn't at the strip club because he had a copy of her schedule in his car glove box. There were other women he had to keep an eye on, too, but she was the one he chose to personally protect. She was the one he feared to lose the most. It was irrational, he knew that. She had no notion of his fantasies keeping him up at night. To her, he was just the lead detective on a case.
He caught her peeking out the top window of her front door, standing on her tiptoes to reach, and he gave a friendly wave. At least she was smart. She wasn’t opening her door to just anyone.
He listened to the clicks of two different locks and smiled as she opened to him, “Good evening, ma’am. Detective Jeb Pyre, remember me?”
She forced a tight smile in return, “Of course I remember you. Do you think I have the memory of a goldfish?”
He let out a half hearted laugh. She was beautiful but she was scared. Women she had worked with were dying. It was supposed to be his job to keep them safe.
He tried to take a subtle glance down her body. She was wearing a sundress and nothing else. Warm yellow with tiny white flowers dotting the sleek fabric. One of the thin straps was sliding down her shoulder. The dress clung tightly around her torso to highlight her stunning cleavage and flared out over her hips whenever she moved. Women around here never wore clothes like that unless they also donned a buttoned up cardigan and tights. To see her display her body so openly caught his breath in his throat. He had to shift on his feet to readjust himself. He refused to allow her to see how excited his body was reacting to hers.
It was unprofessional. Wrong.
“Not at all. Do you have a moment to chat?” He asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.
She gave a sharp inhale, “Is everything okay? Did someone else get hurt?”
Jeb shook his head, “No, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted…”
What did he want? He wanted to commit a sin. He wanted to see her naked. He wanted to kiss her entire body. He wanted to slide his cock between her beautifully plump lips. He-
He was going to hell.
“I just wanted to stop in and let you know that I’ll be stationed outside your house for the rest of the night. With everything going on, I thought it would be best to station some people at various hot spots around town to keep an eye on things.”
Her eyes narrowed, “My house is a hot spot?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Detective Pyre, but I don’t do business out of my own home. No one knows where I live. I use a stage name at work. No one there knows my real name. I’m not a street walker, I’m a stripper who occasionally takes up extra clients in the vip rooms when the money is good enough. My house isn’t a revolving door for men to come and go whenever they please like some brothel. I’ve taken some time off work for the next week to lay low, anyway. A lot of the other girls are doing the same. I think I’ll be alright.”
Jeb chewed awkwardly on his bottom lip, feeling like he had offended her, “I didn’t mean to imply…anything…”
This was not going how he intended. He wasn’t used to women talking back to him. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You being stationed out in your car all night, in front of my house, is only going to cause more eyes to look at me. My neighbors already think I’m some crazy heretic for not attending their church. I don’t need them looking further into my life. Thank you for stopping by and offering your support but I don’t need it.”
As she started to close the door, Jeb stuck his foot between the crack, wincing as it slammed into his shoe. He felt immediate guilt for doing such a strong handed act with her. He just couldn’t bear the thought of being turned away. He couldn’t spend another night laying in a bed next to a wife he no longer loved.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly added when he saw her look of outrage. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous the man we are hunting is. He could have already followed you home. He probably already knows where you live. I wouldn’t put it past him to break in. I’ve seen it before.” He gave a quiet sigh, nearly begging for her approval. “Please. Let me watch over you tonight. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened while I was supposed to be here.”
Her shoulders dropped in defeat. He watched her peer side to side down the street, taking in her surroundings for anything unusual.
“Fine,” she huffed. “But do you have to be parked in the street? Can’t you pull your car into my garage so no nosy neighbors will see and spend the night inside? I have a perfectly adequate couch for you to hang out on.”
Jeb smiled, relieved, “I can do that. Thank you.”
He shouldn’t be this excited about being inside her home.
As he slowly walked through her place, he took note of the items she owned. Her house looked like any others he might enter. There were pictures of her with friends hanging on her refrigerator, a television in the corner of the living room, a brick fireplace with a little ceramic frog on top of the mantle. A cozy, hand knit blanket was draped over the back of the couch. Everything looked normal. He felt stupid for imagining her living inside of sex dungeon. Whatever that might look like. He still had a lot of biases he had to work on.
She walked into the living room after him with a glass of ice water, offering it to him, “The bathroom is the first door on the left down the hall. My bedroom is the last door. There’s a spare room to the right where I do my step aerobics. I have a basement with some empty rooms down there but I don’t really use them. Then there’s the kitchen and, obviously, living room. The front door and the basement door are the only doors into the house besides the garage. It’s a pretty small house with thin walls so you should be able to hear anything if there’s a break in.”
Jeb smiled politely in thanks. He knew what he was doing would be considered nefarious in his community. A married man spending the night in a single woman’s home, a stripper, no less, would be the gossip of the town. It wouldn’t matter if he was a detective keeping watch on someone who could be in danger. He was still a man alone with a woman. The first night he was ever alone with his wife was their wedding night. It was no wonder Daisy wanted him to park in the garage so people wouldn’t talk. She probably had a hard enough time as it was.
“I won’t take up much room,” he said. “I don’t want to be a burden. Only trying to help to keep everyone safe.”
“Isn’t this usually the type of job you give to the rookies?” She asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from the couch. She crossed her legs at the ankles like a respectable lady should and, somehow, she still looked like a seductress doing so. “Does the lead detective usually make overnight house calls?”
The skirt of her dress was short. It bunched up around her thighs as she sat. He willed himself to only look at her face and keep his eyes from wandering.
Jeb blushed and perched on the edge of the couch cushion, “We don’t have too many men at the station. I volunteered to lend an extra hand.”
She leaned back, eyeing him up with a type of bold, observant intelligence he wasn’t used to seeing, “What does your wife think of you spending the night with a whore?”
He anxiously twirled his wedding band around his finger. She spoke with such brashness it caught him off guard.
“I told her I was spending the night at the office,” he wasn’t sure why he willingly answered so honestly and without hesitation.
She had that kind of spell over him. He wanted to protect her. Wanted to give her things. Wanted to tell her all his secrets. She was a siren luring him to his destruction and he was willing to sail his ship straight into the rocks if it made her happy.
A smirk tugged up the corner of her lips, “Ah, I see. So you’re a liar. What else are you lying to her about?”
Jeb choked on the water he was sipping. His eyes widened.
“I’m not-what-I’m not-” he sputtered out.
She laughed quietly to herself, “Calm down, detective. I was only joking. An LDS man telling his wife a lie? That’s never been heard of before.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
He ran the back of his hand over his lips to hide his smile. He liked her. He liked her sass. She didn't care what he thought of her. She wasn’t playing a game like everyone else he knew. It made him want to tell her the truth. Every truth. Everything he had been holding in for the past year.
He hated his wife. He didn’t just not love her anymore, he despised her.
Her words had been echoing in his ears for over a year now, “I love you but I can’t struggle through this with you.”
She had left him when he needed her the most. She chose her faith over him. He should have known. He had married her because of how devout she was. Her love for Heavenly Father was what drew him towards her in the first place. Now, it’s what cast him away.
If he didn’t pretend, Rebecca would take everything from him. She would leave him for nothing if he didn’t keep on impersonating a saintly man. As if they hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together. As if he hadn’t devoted everything to his family. She would rather jump ship than dare to stand by his side when he needed her most. He would have never left her if she had been in his place. He would have held her hand and walked her through her doubts but she couldn’t do the same. Her love was conditional.
He hated her for that.
He hated himself for hating her.
Rebecca’s faith was what kept her moving forward. It was all she ever knew. She lives in the LDS belief that Jeb, with his priesthood, is the one who must usher her through the veil when she passes so she can enter the highest form of heaven. Without him, without his beliefs, she was fucked.
Jeb smiled to himself. He liked that word.
Fucked.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
That was his life.
A big fucking lie. A pile of steaming bullshit.
He had just met Daisy five days ago and she had already pegged him for exactly the kind of man he was. A liar. A stripper knew more about him than his own wife. She could see straight through the fabricated, bullshit act he put on and he had only been inside her home for five minutes. Five fucking minutes and she could already see the depravity leaking out of him.
God, he was pathetic.
“I don’t believe in a God,” he blurted out, shocking even himself with the outburst.
She gave him a few, stunned blinks in response, “...Okay.”
Jeb cleared his throat, his face heating with embarrassment, “I don’t know where that came from. I deeply apologize.”
If he was with anyone else, his confession would have been met with gasps of horror. With her, it was nothing more than a passing sentence.
She was perfect. He wanted her. Badly. That sundress was only working to fuel his indiscretion.
She leaned her head into the palm of her hand as she rested it on the arm of the chair, “Is this…something you’d like to discuss further, detective? Men seem to enjoy emptying their traumas onto me. I’ve consoled many men over the years. I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”
“I-” he stammered, his ear heating up in shame for his actions. “No. I’m sorry. Again.”
She wasn’t his therapist. He didn’t have a therapist. Only crazy people had therapists. And he wasn’t crazy.
Or maybe he was.
Life might be easier if he was crazy.
“I love my wife,” he stated. He only said that to try and convince his brain to stop lusting after the woman he was meant to be protecting. He was here to make sure no one broke in. He was working a case. He was not here to turn to sin.
She nodded her head, pretending to follow along with whatever obvious breakdown was going on inside his mind, “That’s good. A lot of men love their wives. A lot of men don’t. That’s a part of life.”
“I love…no…” Jeb sighed. Fuck it. The rant was coming out. He couldn’t stop it. He was already too far gone to keep it repressed any longer. “I don’t love my wife. I hate her. Every time I look at her, all I feel is animosity. I think she’s the dumbest woman I’ve ever met and I know that’s wrong to think. I know that makes me a terrible man. I’m an awful husband. It’s just that she blindly follows whatever the profit says. Whatever a bishop tells her to do, she’d do it without a second thought. They could tell her to get on her knees and suck them off because Heavenly Father commanded it so and she would do it. She doesn’t see anything further than her own nose. She follows and never questions. And, I understand, because I used to be the same. I used to believe because that’s what I was taught to do. Blindly believe. That’s all there ever was.
“She’s never seen true evil. Not like I have. Because she refuses to look even though it’s all around her. I see it everywhere. She puts on her little Mormon blinders and never dares to take them off. So, she follows. And she makes my girls follow. And she makes me follow or else she will take the girls away from me. I am raising my daughters in a world that hates women. My wife is letting them be preyed upon. She’s happy to let them be squashed into submission. Keep sweet. Pray and obey. Learn to worship your future husband. Never think for yourself.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath, feeling himself losing it. His voice cracked. “If I give up, is there no hope for my daughters? Who will protect them if not me? My wife would marry again, quickly, so she can still get into the celestial kingdom when she dies. She’ll marry someone who won’t waver in their beliefs. Another man would raise my girls. He won’t care about them. Not like I do. They’ll be sold off to the first Mormon boy they fancy. They’ll be married at 18. Never attend college. Never think for themselves. Never get a job. Because I won’t be there to inspire them to reach for more. I’ve seen what kind of men are out there. My daughters won’t be safe unless I play the part my wife created for me.”
He opened his eyes to look over at the woman across from him. Her face was neutral but her eyes were burning with an eagerness to know more. His sudden outburst of lament had stricken something deep inside of her. He had captured her interest like he was a strange bug forced under a microscope that she wanted to dissect. His spiel may have exploded out of nowhere but she was already on board to follow along. She seemed like someone who enjoyed a feisty debate. He needed someone who wouldn’t hold back.
“You claim your wife is the dumb one, yet, here you are, spewing a load of shit all over my living room,” she mused, giving him a snarky grin.
Jeb’s jaw dropped. He forced himself to quickly regain his composure and took another swig of cold water. The fire behind her eyes was enticing. He desperately wished his wife could show that kind of passion once in her fucking life. He hated the docile, sweet act. He craved raging forest fires not babbling brooks. He licked his lips, ready to swallow anything she threw back at him. This is what he wanted. Someone to argue with. Someone he could express himself with without fear of rejection. He wanted this fierce lioness to eat him alive.
He just wanted something that felt real for once.
She stood up to pace around the room in front of him while she spoke, “Do you realize your wife is like that because she knows nothing else? That is her way of survival. She chooses to believe instead of question because questioning is terrifying. Questioning means losing everything and everyone you’ve ever loved. Your entire world crumbles under your feet if you dare to question. Want to ask me how I know?” She stopped her aggravated pacing to shoot him a look of annoyance. “You’re a man. You have so many options still available should you fumble. If she were to question her faith, she would lose her family. Her mother, father, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. She loses them all. And then she is left with what, exactly? I doubt your wife works? Does she have her own career? Skill sets? Does she have her own income? Does she have her own car? Bank account? She dares to question, she is left with nothing. But you know that already. Obviously. Because you are just as scared to speak your truths out loud. You’re no better than her.”
She stopped momentarily to catch her breath, flipping a strand of hair from off her forehead. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her hips swayed when she walked. He adored her temper. It felt so natural. Real. She wasn’t holding herself back to placate him. She acted on her own accord without worrying about how others perceived her.
He wanted to toss her onto this couch and take her right here. He could only half listen to her rant through his ever growing desires.
“How do you know your wife doesn’t think the same thoughts as you? How do you know she doesn’t hide her truths locked up deep inside her mind and never dares to speak them? It’s fine to voice your opinions when you’re in the safety of my house. To you, I am nothing, I’m just a stripper. A prostitute. Hooker. Harlot. Whore. Whatever you want to call me. I pose no threat to you because, to you, I am so far below you that my voice does not matter. You feel safe to speak freely inside these walls because you face no real consequences here. You’ve seen evil? Well I’ve lived evil. You’re here because of the evil that wants to be inflicted upon me. Because I think differently from you. Because I use my body as a tool. Because I don’t subscribe to your values. Someone out there thinks I deserve death simply because I exist in a way he doesn’t approve of. You want to blame your wife for your problems. Blame yourself because you’re no better than her. You’re all a part of the same system.”
Jeb sat there in silence. The condensation from the glass of ice water clutched in his hand dripped down his wrist. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he took it all in. He was torn between fully digesting her words and imagining her naked, writhing body under him as he dragged the ice cube from his glass down her stomach.
“I don’t,” he whispered. “I don’t think you’re a whore.”
He didn’t even like saying that word out loud. He felt a dark cloud of shame rain down around him. But was she wrong?
He had never imagined his wife in the scenario currently playing in his head. He saw Daisy as a sex object willing to be exploited to his darkest temptations.
She stopped in front of him. She placed her finger under his chin and lifted his head up to look at her. His wide, pleading, brown eyes took her in, silently begging for some kind of clarity to fix his entire life.
“Tell me what you think of me, detective. Tell me the truth. When you look at me, what is it you truly see?” She murmured down at him. “Why are you really here? It’s not to discuss your lapse of faith, or your wife, and it’s not to keep me safe. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me what it is you truly want? Don’t you lie to me.”
The way his world saw it, Rebecca was pure, because she had remained a virgin until marriage. She lived and breathed by the Book of Mormon. Daisy was a condemned sinner, because she sold her body for sex. She was beyond saving. Even the outfit she wore was considered taboo. Modest clothing was the foundation stone to sustaining abstinence. She was the sinner.
But so was he.
Jeb was no saint despite the role he was trying to play.
He took a deep breath and recited the scripture, “He that looketh on a woman to lust after her, or if any shall commit adultery in their hearts, they shall not have the Spirit, but shall deny the faith and shall fear.”
Her eyes flicked with curiosity and a smile tugged at her lips. She caressed her thumb over his cheek, “You lust, Jeb Pyre? For me?”
He licked his drying lips, gently pushing her hand away from his face, “Yes.”
She nodded, knowingly, “You don’t know what you want. Your mind is in one place but your actions keep you in another. I am not the answer to your problems. Many men have tried but all have failed. The answer is never found between the legs of a whore. Unless, that is, what you say is true and you don’t think of me that way. Something tells me, though, that you’re lying to us both.” She gave him a wink, turning on her heels with her dress spinning out around her, and swayed down the hallway towards her bedroom. “Have a good night on the couch, detective. I’ll be retiring to my bedroom should you decide you need me.”
She let those last few words linger in the air, the weight of them settling down around him, as the door closed behind her.
The cuckoo clock hanging on her wall let him know that midnight was here. The sudden sound breaking the peaceful silence had caused him to jump up from his spot on the couch and reach for the gun at his hip. Jeb rolled his eyes in the clock's direction and lowered his hands back to his side. He might still have some residual PTSD from his former cases…
Her house was dark and quiet.
He liked it that way. Sometimes he missed the quiet. She hadn’t left her bedroom since she entered. Without her in his sights, he could better attempt to control his impulses. He was too weak to be trusted around her. If she hadn’t left when she did, he would have given in. It had taken everything in him to not follow her blindly into that bedroom like a dog on a leash.
Jeb ran a ragged hand over his face. He wasn’t tired. Late nights were where he thrived best. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. She’d awoken his mind in a way he thirsted for. Even just being in her house, prowling silently down her hallway, gave him a thrill. He felt like a naughty school boy getting into mischief after class. He longed to feel something more. His life was full of boredom and she offered him the keys to adventure. He longed to find solace in the arms of a stripper.
A soft light illuminated from under her door to let him know that she was still awake down there. He wondered what she was doing hidden away out of his sight. She had invited him to join her. She had invited him to relish in his sins. It would be a line that, once he crossed, he would never be able to erase. The second he gave in to her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He was already past the point of saving. One little push was all it would take for him to delve into the madness. That glowing light under her door beckoned him to her like the light of God calling him home.
He slipped into her bathroom instead.
He ran cold water out of her orchid pink sink to splash over his heated face. His eyes sought his reflection in the mirror to stare deeply into his own battered soul. This was his crossroads. Whichever path he took would alter the rest of his life. He had already committed adultery in his mind. It was now the act to see if his body would follow or not.
The sight of a black and golden lipstick sitting on the edge of her sink caught his eye. Jeb reached for it, popping off the cap, and twisting it up. A deep, berry red. A color housewives wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. He brushed his thumb over the top to coat his skin with the color of her lips. The bottom of the stick was engraved with the name of the shade. Walk of Shame. He smiled a wicked smile to himself.
He knew what road he was going to take. He would take that walk of shame.
Jeb placed the stick back where he found it. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger, mulling over his decision, then carefully plucked it off his body. He placed the ring around the lipstick, listening to it rattle against the ceramic sink, and gave a long, soft sigh. A weight had been lifted from him. He quickly exited the bathroom and allowed his feet to lead him straight to her door. He stood outside, silent, listening.
Soft moans floated under the door. Little whines. Whimpers.
His eyes slipped closed and his lips parted. He knew those sounds. She was putting on a show for him. All he had to do was raise the curtain and let her perform. His hand hovered over her door knob.
It was okay. She had invited him in.
“-should you need me.”
He needed her. He hadn’t engaged in sex with his wife in over eight months. He needed her now more than ever.
He slowly and silently turned the knob. Inch by inch. Until he was able to push open the door. Just a crack. Just enough to peek through. He had to make sure she was safe behind those walls. After all, that was his job.
She laid across the bottom of her mattress. Her sundress was gathered around her hips. Her legs were parted wide, aimed straight at the door, as if she knew he would show up. He was that predictable. Through her half closed, dreamy lids, her long, elegant fingers drew delicate circles through her glistening flower. His breath caught in his throat when he watched her dip a finger deep inside of her. His cock sprang to life, begging to be touched, pushing at the loose fabric of his dark gray suit pants.
He should close the door. He should leave.
This was wrong. He needed to repent.
“I see you watching me, detective,” she whispered to him as he hid away in the dark hallway, lurking in the shadows like a predator. She let out a soft whine, dragging her soaked finger in circles around her clit. “I know you’re there.”
Jeb swallowed. She was the devil. A demon. He had no power over her. Heat flushed through his veins. His breath was already coming out in heavy pants. He was chained to the doorway, captivated by her seduction. He couldn’t move away even if he wanted to.
“Have you ever seen a woman masturbate, Brother Pyre?” She moaned. “Have you ever seen a woman touch herself like this?”
His fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, gripping tightly onto the wood for support. No. He hadn’t. It would shock him if he found out his wife secretly masturbated in private. She was so well behaved. Masturbation was a sin. She would never dare allow anyone else besides him to touch her, not even herself.
“Do you like to watch me?” She whimpered, sinking her finger back inside of her. “I was hoping you would come. I know you, detective. I see through you. Your mind is just as perverted as the rest of us. You want to give in. You want to taste what is forbidden to you. It’s okay. I won’t tell.”
She looked hotly up into his eyes, staring straight into his corrupted soul. He was too weak. He had no resolve. The devil looked too appetizing. The sins of the flesh were tempting him forward as he let the door push open to reveal himself in all his shame.
She gave him a warm smile, taking in the sight of the bulge below his belt. Her fingers swept through her folds, slippery with her arousal. With the expertise of someone with diligent practice, she used two fingers to part the outer petals of her womanhood to reveal to him the hot, sinking abyss he craved to explore.
Enraptured, he could not tear his eyes from the slender digit plunging into her soaking depths. His mouth opened and closed, silently, begging to seek a taste of such a treasure. He watched in a starving trance as she anointed her needy pearl, bathing it in her honey, tending to it like a precious garden. Her eyes locked with his, burning, tempting him to join her in her display of debauchery.
Oh, lord, he was tempted.
Through heavy, ragged breaths she spoke, “Watch me, detective. Gaze upon the kind of life you were kept from. Look at what you could have been given. See what you missed out on.”
He was watching. His eyes were padlocked to her dancing fingers. She was beautiful. His heart sought to hold her in his arms while he touched her with a wild abandon.
“Do you like what you see, Jeb?” She moaned out his name extra low and tantalizing.
He almost came in his pants at the sound of his name in her mouth. A shudder ran through his tightly wound body.
“Answer me!” She demanded from him.
He gasped, “Yes.”
A smile spread across her lips, “Good boy. Men like you work so hard, don’t they? You give and give and give but who ever takes care of you? Let yourself relax, detective. Let yourself give in. Let me care for you. Let someone else take control for once.”
Her eyes closed, lost in the rhythmic tones of her own words, casting her enchantment over them both. She had known he would come seek her out. She had known he would watch. She wanted him here. All he craved was to feel wanted again.
He took a tentative step into her bedroom, closing the door behind him, and sealing his fate with the click of the lock.
“That’s it, baby,” she cooed. “Come a little closer. Take a look at your new toy. All for you.”
Jeb held his breath, shuffling slowly forward a few more paces. His heart was racing. His skin was on fire. His mind was made up.
“Why don’t you let Daisy see what her Gatsby is working with, hmm? Take your belt off. Unzip your pants. Show me.” It wasn’t a request but a demand.
He swallowed, his nerves sending him into a frenzy, as he undid his belt, lost in her trance. His eyes stayed glued to her hypnotic fingers casting circles of magic around her clit. Subconsciously, his tongue dated out to lick his lips, desperate for a taste.
His hot, heavy cock fell out into the palm of his hand. He listened to her sharp inhale at the sight. It was followed by a purr of approval.
“I want you to touch yourself but keep your eyes on my pussy, detective. Watch what I’m doing. Watch how wet you’re making me. Listen.” Two fingers sunk into her, squelching and sloppy, as she pumped them in and out.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sound and a growl rumbled in the back of his throat. With the tip of his thumb, still stained with her lipstick, he smeared around his own wetness leaking from his tip. He worked it down his shaft, slowly pumping himself through his fist.
“I’ve been dreaming of this moment since the day I met you,” she breathed, keeping him in her watchful sights, each of them working to build their own pleasure. “I saw you then like I see you now. A lost man in need of guidance. I dreamed of you touching me. That first day, when you called me into your office. I imagined spreading my legs for you as I sat on top of your desk, throwing papers to the floor, while you ate me out in front of the large window. I dreamed of you finding me at my work, paying extra to take me to the back rooms, making me suck your cock while you grabbed my hair and prayed to your pathetic God.” He wanted to eat that arrogant smirk straight off her face. “You like watching me, don’t you, pretty boy? You like hiding here, away from the world, where only you and I can bear witness to the blasphemy of your true self. Show me who you really are.”
He whimpered, tugging on his cock a little harder. He was a sinner. An adulterer. A pervert. A heretic. A liar.
“Tell me what you want to do to me, detective? Tell me all the ways you’ve dreamed of fucking me while you slept next to your frigid wife.”
Jeb stuttered over his words, trying to force them out his tightening throat, “I’ve-I’ve…dreamt of dragging you to temple, b-bending you over the sacrament table, and fucking you in front of the congregation so they could all see what kind of dirty whore you are.”
Tears pricked in his eyes as the shame battled it out with the unbridled lust. He had never spoken like that in his life. A sense of vitality flowed through him. It made his cock twitch in his hand and he stroked it more fervently.
She licked her lips, letting out a light, amused laugh, “Such a naughty boy, detective. I know there’s more darkness in you. I want to hear it all. What else do you dream of?”
“Taking you into my home. F-fucking you-” he stumbled over the word “fucking” as it still felt so forgein on his lips to openly talk this dirty. “In my bed. On my wife’s side. Forcing her to watch while I make you unravel on my tongue. Showing her exactly what she is missing out on. Showing her what kind of man I could be if she’d only open herself up to experiment more.”
He couldn’t believe the filth he was allowing himself to admit. These were his private thoughts. They were never meant to be exposed to anyone. She had that effect on him. His skull was cracked open and his most shameless self was laid bare.
“You’re poor, poor wife,” she mewled. “She deserves to have someone tend to her needs, too. I know she wants it. All women do. You’ve just never pushed her far enough because you’re weak, Jeb Pyre.” She removed her fingers from her pussy and sat up, letting her dress fall back over her hips. She stared him down with her possessive gaze. “Get on your knees,” she ordered.
He didn’t even hesitate. He released his hand from his cock and knelt down before her. She slowly got to her feet to take a stand directly in front of him. She was so close he could smell her sex clinging to her skin.
“Men like you are always searching for something to worship.You told me you don’t believe in God. You told me you’ve lost your way. You have nothing to hold onto.” She trailed her finger, still glistening with her slick, over his bottom lip. “If you’ve lost your God then worship me instead. I’m your new God now, detective. Open your mouth and worship me. Cleanse my fingers with your tongue.”
His lips parted and she slipped two fingers over his tongue. He closed around her, bathing her clean, tasting the remnants of her devine pussy. She slid her fingers down his throat causing him to gag.
“Good boy,” she murmured her praises to him. “Sing me your devotions. Relax your throat. Soften your tongue. Take it like a man.”
Jeb reached up to gently take hold of her wrist. He showered her hand in soft kisses, trailing up her arm and back down again, lapping at the tips of her fingers with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth, moaning as she glided down his throat.
“Look at how hard you are. Desperate to be touched. Desperate to follow directions. Desperate to pray to anything that will have you.”
She jerked her hand away from him, leaving him feeling empty and cold. She grabbed his chin in her grasp. Her nails dug into his cheeks.
“Who’s your God, Jeb Pyre?” She asked.
“You,” he replied.
“Prove it. Pray at your altar.”
She lifted the skirt of her dress to expose herself to him. Her foot rested on the edge of the mattress so he could get an eye to eye look with his new lifeline. Jeb let out a shaky breath. His hands extended to wrap around her waist, drawing himself closer to her. He tilted his head to bring his quivering breaths to her heated core. She draped the hem of her dress over his head to curtain him the darkness where he belonged. In the dark, he could worship in secrecy.
His head pushed between her thighs to force her legs to widen for him. Her salty musk filled his senses, hooking him in like a drug. His eyes slipped closed at the first taste of the almighty. She was the bread of life. Honey flowed from the darkness and he relished in every drop. His tongue probed at her entrance, burying between her warmth, reaching deeper depths with lapping rolls. Teasing. Tantalizing. Tasting. He suckled at her clitoris, nibbling softly at the sensitive flesh, swirling her with his tongue. The sounds of her coos were all the praises he craved. He didn’t need practice to know how to please her. Surrendering to her was as natural to him as breathing.
“A virtuous woman is the crown to her husband,” she moaned, quoting the scripture. “And, yet, your sinning whore is the one who sits upon your head like a crown.”
He shivered at the debauchery of her words. He smiled against her pussy and took his time to savor his meal. She was a blessing bestowed upon him. A crown upon his head. His tongue thrust up inside of her, fucking her slowly and tenderly. He tightened his grip around her waist to hold her closer, a desperate man clinging to his lifesaver, moaning against her heated skin. The way she ground herself against him, thrusting herself deeper against his tongue, was enough to trigger his own needs. He humped his hips into the air, thrusting into nothing.
“Oh, sweet thing,” she hummed. “Is my favorite detective in need of some more attention? When was the last time you’ve had that gorgeously thick cock buried inside someone’s cunt?”
He whimpered, not letting up on his assault of her pussy, and clung tightly onto her waist. Eight months. Eight torturous months.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice thick with lust from trying to control her building orgasm. “I’ll take good care of you. I don’t want you getting too drunk off my pussy. Can’t have you completely let go before I’ve had my fun. Come here.”
She slid out from his grasp by pulling herself up onto the mattress. Her eyes were glazed over with a needy passion. Glassy and wet.
“Take your pants off,” she ordered. “I want to see you fully.”
They were already half way down his thighs. With a little push, they pooled around his ankles, pulled down quickly by the weight of his gun belt. He kicked off his nice dress shoes and stepped out of his pants to leave only his temple garments.
She smirked at the sight and hopped off the bed to take a step closer. Her hand wrapped around his tie to pull him down to her level. Her lips trailed over his as his eyes fluttered close. She glided her tongue across his lips, cleaning herself from them, with a gentle hum of approval.
“Who tastes better? Me or your wife?” She asked.
Jeb flustered in her question, “I-I wouldn’t know. She won’t let me. She believes it’s a form of sexual transgression.”
“Did you think about her?” She questioned. “When your tongue was buried inside of me, did she ever cross your mind?”
Guilt filled him, “Not once.”
She smiled, releasing his tie from her grasp, and began to work on extracting him from his perfectly crisp, white button up until he was left in nothing but his sacred garments.
She slowly eyed him up and down, “Keep the top on. I want you to remember exactly what your betraying as you fuck me.”
She sank to her knees, pulling down his underwear with her. His cock sat against his left thigh, hard and in need of attention. Her nails dragged along his sensitive, delicate skin. When she reached the tip of his cock, she carefully pushed a nail into the soft flesh while he hissed in pain. She left a crescent moon imprint behind which she quickly leaned down to kiss better. It was her harsh reminder that even if she was on her knees for him, she was still the one calling the shots.
He quite liked how the pain made him feel but he was too nervous to ask for more.
Her throat relaxed as she slipped him between her lips. He skimmed over her warm tongue with little jerking movements from his hips to push himself deeper into her. He wanted to reach out and grab her hair but was afraid to touch her. Instead, he balled his hands up at his side, digging his nails into his palm to try and elicit a bit more pain. It wasn’t the same as when she inflicted it.
Her head bobbed with an expertise that could only be brought from years of practice. It made his own oral skills seem novice and weak in comparison. His head leaned back as he stared at the ceiling, looking straight through it, and up into the heavens. There was no celestial kingdom up there. There was no God looking down on him. His heaven was right here in this room. His God was on her knees with her lips wrapped around his cock. This was the true meaning of life.
Jeb moaned out her name. Not Daisy. Not her stage name. Her real name. The one he kept locked up in a file in his desk. The name he would slowly stroke his finger over as he spent his late nights searching through his notes. The name only people who loved her were allowed to use.
She froze.
His cock fell from her lips and she stared up at him with a playful vengeance.
“What was that, detective?” She asked, her voice low and dangerous, but hiding an impish undertone. “I know I didn’t hear what I think I just did.”
He ran a hand over his face, too overwhelmed to be thinking straight, “Daisy. I meant Daisy.”
“You think you know me?” She got to her feet, wiping her bottom lip with her thumb. “You think you know the real me? Because I know the real you, Jeb, but do you know me?”
A heated red tint blushed across his cheeks, “I…don’t know…”
“Of course you don’t. Are you ever sure about anything in your life?” She raised a curious eyebrow at him. “I’m sure of most things that I do and say and believe. Can you say the same?”
He shook his head, “No. I can’t.”
She flashed him a poignant smile, “Name one thing you are 100% sure of right this very second.”
Jeb licked his lips. He knew.
“I am certain that I want to kiss you. Certain that I want to tear that dress from your body. And I’m certain that I want to throw you over this bed and fuck you like you deserve.”
“Then let go, detective. Give in. Become the animal you’ve always repressed. What are you waiting for?”
It was all the release he needed.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist to drag her against his body. His lips crashed down onto hers as he held her in his arms with a steellike grip. She didn’t kiss him back, so much as, surrendered her mouth to him. Her body went nearly limp and he kept her on her feet with his own strength. Her surrender brought forth a rush of devoted emotions and blind, sexual desire turning him into the beast he longed to become. He seized at her hair, tugging, pulling, wildly gripping, and attacked her mouth like it was the holy spirit he sought to believe in. She shuddered before his onslaught and melted into him. The more he reached for, the more he stole, the more she wanted it. She was driving him insane with an unrestrained passion of pure lust. He pitied any man who didn’t fall to his knees to worship her like the goddess she was. Her mouth was a sin that he wanted to violate.
Jeb violently grabbed at the straps of her sundress, nearly ripping them off, as he tore them down her body. The dress thumped to the floor to leave her completely naked and exposed. She didn’t flinch away. She didn’t try to hide and play with her coy modesty. She stood proudly before him exactly how a goddess should hold herself before a mortal man.
He slid his hands up her sides, grazing over the swell of her breasts, feasting on them with his eyes. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, pinching and flicking, while he attacked her mouth once more. She parted her lips to submit his tongue into her depths, sucking on it and twirling it around her mouth. Whenever he pinched her gorgeous nipples between his fingers, she would let out the most delicious moan and thrust her chest against his palms. His heart was racing with a pace that might kill him if he didn’t force himself to breath. His head was spinning in a dizzying whirlwind of thrill.
Jeb sank down and lowered his head to capture her nipple between his teeth, lashing at it with his tongue, listening to the gospel choir of whimpering moans coming out of her. She had shoved her nail into the head of his cock so he took a mouthful of her flesh, just under her beautifully darkened areola, and bit down hard. He had never bitten his wife in his life. He liked the way it felt as he tumbled deeper into his own carnal depravity. He wanted to defile her body and join her in their mutual corruption.
She arched her back, letting out a gasping shriek and letting it tumble down into a slurry of cooing whimpers, “Oh, Jeb. Yes. Yes.”
A circle of intended teeth marks, glistening with his saliva, shone proudly back at him. He liked marking her skin, claiming her as his own. It felt animalistic. Primal. A growl ripped from his throat, he was sick with lust, feverish and sweaty, panting with need. He grabbed at her hips and spun her around, pushing his hand between her shoulder blades to shove her face first into the mattress. Her ankles spread wide to allow him to have easy access.
He took a stumbling step back to admire the sight. Her pussy was glistening and spread open in wait for him. Beads of sweat dotted along her back down her spine. Her ass was sticking upwards, parted, so he could see her tight, little hole. She looked more ready to be fucked than anyone he’d ever seen. His wife had never presented herself to him like this. He imagined her splayed out in this same position and gave a breathless laugh. He could hardly even create a mental picture in his mind, it was so improbable.
“Something funny back there, asshole?”
Jeb gave a dark laugh in response, “Just the neverending joke that is my life.”
He lined the head of his cock up to her pussy, coating the tip in her slick, and bumping it back and forth over her clit.
Murder. Denying the Holy Spirit. Adultery.
Three of the worst things a good Mormon man could ever commit.
He’d already knocked denying the holy spirit off his list…might as well add another.
He sunk his cock into her. Steady and true. She let out an exhale and he watched her head tilt back to enjoy the sensation. So hot. So tight. Perfection. She was here to be fucked. Here to take his cock.
“That’s it,” he breathed.
He felt no shame. It was unusual for a Mormon not to feel shame but, tonight, buried balls deep in this woman, he felt nothing but relief. This was everything his body needed. He wanted fast and rough. He wanted to take her from behind with a feral abandon. He wanted to do all the things he wasn’t allowed to do until he was gripped with satisfaction.
Jeb grabbed her hips for leverage and began his awakening. Tonight, he was becoming a new man. He fucked her with quick, short thrusts that slammed into her. Her ass slapped against his stomach with each pound. She filled the room with the sounds of her gasps and erotic moans. Depending on how hard he rammed into her, she’d even let out little shrieks. He liked those sounds best. They made him fuck her harder, dragging out his full length, then smacking back into her. Possessing her body. Over and over and over.
He didn’t even care that he wasn’t wearing a condom. Those were problems for later Jeb. Present Jeb had everything he could ever need.
Sweat dripped down his forehead. Ragged, heavy, heaving breaths tumbled from his lips. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her upwards, so he could feel her body against his. She arched her back with her head rolling against his. He inhaled the scent of her hair fusing with the musk of their sex. He fumbled his hands around to capture her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, her rock hard nipples dragging across his palm. She reached an arm around the side of his head to hold her steady from the onslaught of vigor his hips were causing her.
“Oh, fuck, Jeb!” She cried. “You needed this, baby. You needed this to happen. Let go. Let it all out. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t hold back.”
Jeb whimpered out a sob in response, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. All he wanted was someone to listen, someone to take care of him, someone to understand.
He tumbled them both against the side of the mattress, falling on top of her. Her head turned, leaning against the covers, so he could shower the side of her face with wet, tear stained kisses. He nibbled on her earlobe, lapped his tongue at the corner of her lips, and dragged his teeth along the edge of her jaw. She was made to be devoured. His hips hammered with an agonizing precision into her heat. They were trapped in a hurricane, holding onto each other for dear life, as the maelstrom of building emotions swept them away.
He could feel her clenching down around him. He knew she was close. He was, too, but he wanted her to cum first. His goddess deserved to reach euphoria before he did. His hand slipped down her side and wedged itself between her hips and the mattress to find a home between the slick fire of her lips. She whined, bucking her hips, the moment he found her clit, tormenting it with his fingers.
“Cum for me,” his raspy, lust drunk voice growled in her ear. “Let me feel you unravel on my cock.”
Her body shook. Waves rippled over her skin with each hard pound of his cock into her. He could feel her tightening. Clenching. Gripping. A mangled yelp tore from her throat. When she orgasmed, she gave him everything. Her entire body surrendered to him. It burst from her with everything she could give. Her eyes widened, her mouth parted in a silent shriek, her spine arched. Like a demon possessing her body, she writhed under him with jerking, frantic thrusts. He wrapped his arms around her, collecting her tightly against him, to try and hold her together so she didn’t combust into the flames of Hell.
He let out a whimper as he desperately tried to hold off his own orgasm. He wanted to let her ride out her ecstasy on his cock without him cumming inside of her.
Her legs gave out and she sunk onto her knees, letting him slip out of her, “I got you, baby. I’wan’taste you. Use me.”
Without missing a beat, she ushered him straight out of her pussy and into her wet, waiting mouth. His eyes closed as his head fell back. He let out a long, drawn out moan. His hand found her hair, no longer feeling nervous to touch her or manipulate her how he pleased. He helped push her forward to take more and more of him. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
She let him slide down her throat, relishing his cock with her tongue, tasting herself on his tender flesh. He balled a fistful of her hair into his grasp.
“I’m-I’m-I” he stuttered out, not able to finish the sentence, but she got to the hint.
Her pace quickened. Her suction around him tightened. He felt himself tense up before an explosion of dopamine flooded his brain with a loud cry of pleasure.
She straightened her back, moaning softly, as she swallowed down the hot spurts of his semen. Her fisted hand continued to massage his shaft while her mouth tended diligently to his crown.
Jeb’s mouth hung open, tears flowed freely down his face, and he eventually managed to stumble backwards away from her. He crashed into the back wall and slid down to his ass, shaking.
She crawled across the floor to drape herself into his lap. His arms snaked around her, thankful for having something to hold onto. His mind felt like he was floating away. His body felt amazing but his emotions were in turmoil. She stroked her fingers through his hair and left soft kisses along his neck.
He had done it. There was no going back now.
“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured against his sweat stained skin, as if reading his mind. “You did what you had to do. Sometimes your body knows better than your brain. It was telling you what it needed. It’s just like taking a spoonful of medicine to fight off a cold. There are times when you need to give in and give your body what it craves.”
He craved her. Daisy. And everything that she represented. Even at this moment, after he had already had her, after he had given in, he should be feeling horror, disgust, shame, but he only wanted more of her. That’s why the tears were freely flowing. Not because he was humiliated by his sins but because he wanted more.
This was the life he wanted to live. He had gotten a taste, a spoonful, of the other side. A side he could never have. A side he would always be reaching for but never able to obtain due to the religion he was trapped in. His priorities had to remain elsewhere. He had family to care for. Children to raise. He was their only hope for a different future. He would never allow Rebecca to take his kids from him. He would do whatever he needed to keep her docile and oblivious. He could save his children from the inside, even if that meant selling his soul to a God he didn’t believe in.
Everything was so clear to him now. There was no more confusion. No more doubt.
Daisy and his green light.
The inability to ever reach what he truly desired.
A/N: If you dare to ask me to write a part two and you don't reblog detailing in great detail everything you liked and enjoyed about this story, then I will curse your entire family and block you. No one gets to ask for a part two without doing their damn part and reblogging first xoxo
Tagging some people who seemed like they might be interested in this smutty lil fic: @moonyslove78 @raindropsandteaandtears @withahappyrefrain @lxinesux @liz-allyn (i dont care if youre hardly on tumblr anymore liz i will tag you in everything i do until the end of time deal with it)
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield fic#jeb pyre#jeb pyre fic#jeb pyre x reader#jeb pyre smut#under the banner of heaven#utboh#utboh jeb pyre#jeb pyre imagine#blooming violets fic#blooming violets
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
could you do Andrew Garfield x fem!reader that you have period cramp comfort with Andrew plz
(try your best in your writing, thanks and have a lovely day )
pairing: Andrew Garfield x fem!reader
warnings: none, just mentions of pain
a/n: first time posting Andrew so i beg you ti be nice! ☺️
When Andrew got back home, everything was in silence, not even the lights were which was quite odd. Maybe it was that he had got used to arrive home to a set table and and a hot meal that you had spent the evening cooking. You had almost turned that into your weekend routine when he had to work. So, somehow, it was normal for Andrew to worry by finding that scenario.
You were nowhere in sight and he called out your name but you didn’t answer, so he walked directly into your shared bedroom, and there you were. Laying down, all curled up and sheets covering you from head to toe. He quietly came close to the bed and saw you were asleep. He checked the time and it felt weird, it was unusual for you to be sleeping this early. He sat down at the edge of the mattress and carefully sneaked his hand to caress your cheek. He was about to leave when you abruptly moved and hold his arm.
“Andy?”
“Shh, yes it’s me babe” he hushed.
“Omg, what time is it? I’m so sorry I fell asleep”
“Hey, hey it’s okay” he turned on the light of your bedside table when you started to look for the switch. “Oh babe, what’s wrong? You look terrible” he said when the dim light revealed your face to him
You didn’t just look terrible, you felt terrible.
“It’s my period baby, this month it’s giving me terrible cramps”
“Oh babe, when did you started feeling bad?” worrying was obvious in his tone. You moved a little and made some space for him to sit on the bed.
“Early today, around lunchtime i think” Andrew hold your body so you head was laying on his built chest, his big hand went to forehead to check if you had a temperature.
“You should have texted me babe, I would have run out?” he said and kissed you on the top of your head.
“I know. I just didn’t want to bother you Andy, I know you’re working and you can’t do much anyway” you whispered and tried to look at him, he seemed absolutely preoccupied.
“I can’t do much?” he frowned a little but then he let out a soft laugh. “I can be here, with you babe, and take care of you. What’s the point on going through this all by yourself?”
“I don’t know…” you said shamefully.
“Listen, it doesn’t matter” his fingers were running through your hair, “what matters is that I’m here now with you and I’m gonna take care of you” he said before kissing your forehead.
He laid down there with you a little, holding your body and rubbing your lower back intending to ease the pain. Once he got up he he went to get you an ibuprofen and sone water, he also heated the teapot to prepare you a hot chamomile tea and of course he brought the heat pack to put it on your lower belly.
“Lay here okay, try to relax and rest, I’ll go and cook something nice for you and I’ll be right back” he explained with tender and you just nodded.
Maybe pain wasn’t totally gone yet but there wasn’t a doubt that Andy and her delicate and sweet way of caring about you, was making you feel better, as he always used to do.
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield imagine#andrew garflied fanfic#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield blurb#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield comfort#requests
175 notes
·
View notes
Text
Valentines Celebration ♡
From now until Valentine’s day my requests will be open for any of these prompts with your choice of date from anyone on my request list <3
Recently I’ve received 1k followers on this blog and in a thanks I’m giving this to you. As a huge Valentine’s fan I’d love nothing more than to provide each of you a chance to date any of these wonderful men. So without further ado here are a few prompts you can request!
1. Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.
2. You find an old love letter from your high school sweetheart, do you reach out?
3. Since you and all your friends don’t have Valentines you decide to throw a party to forget about the holiday all together, but what happens when only one person shows up?
4. You’ve always pretended you hate love to avoid getting hurt but then he stumbles upon a journal where he discovers you romanticize everything, including him.
5. His Valentines date ends up being a bust and somehow he ends up at your front door.
6. You both find an old photo of a happy couple and decide to spend the day returning it to its owners.
7. You’re the only florist in town and a kind customer offers to help.
8. At a friend’s urging you begrudgingly attend a Valentines speed dating event. Maybe it’s not all bad after all.
9. You received a note from your secret admirer, turns out he’s not so good at being secret.
10. You’ve just walked into a bar and to your surprise a guy kissed you out of no where and what’re you supposed to say when it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.
11. In order to get over a crush you write a Valentines letter and plan to hide it away but what happens when it accidentally gets sent out?
12. Both of you don’t have Valentines dates so you decide to go out together to fill that void. What’s the worst that can happen?
13. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic and have spent every Valentine’s day alone, so your best friend decides to give you the cheesiest, most special Valentines possible. Maybe admits his feelings a bit too.
14. You’re an author who’s just had your heart broken. Feeling the weight of your breakup you decide to end your latest book with your main characters splitting up. A surprising angry fan shows up to find out why.
15. You spend Valentines in the bar, when your ex boyfriend shows up looking better than you’ve ever seen him you beg the guy next to you to pretend to be your boyfriend.
16. You’ve never believed in soulmates but when you keep bumping into the same guy on Valentine’s day you start to think differently.
17. You’ve just started dating and your friends have put so much pressure on you two spending the holiday together. After a complete fail you both find a way to save the holiday for you both.
18. A sad valentines night spent home alone requires pizza but what happens when the delivery guy mixes up your order with the guy from upstairs?
19. Both of you decide Valentines is the perfect day to reveal your feelings to each other but what happens when you overhear one another and assume it’s about someone else?
20. The last thing you want to do is leave your apartment on Valentine’s Day and see all the happy couples but instead you discover your neighbor across the hall has been locked out with only a towel around his waist.
If there isn’t a particular prompt you like you can always request something of your own. Can’t wait to see what everyone requests! ♡
#imagine requests#requests#ashley’s requests#steve harrington fic#rafe cameron fic#andrew garfield fic#drew starkey fic#rooster bradshaw fic#prompt list#valentines prompts#charlie dalton fic#joe keery fic#dead poets society#stranger things#outerbanks#amazing spiderman#steve harrington#charlie dalton#joe keery#rafe cameron#andrew garfield
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Padfoot Saves Sirius
Pairing - Wolfstar x daughter! Remus Lupin x Sirius Black, James Potter x Lily Evans.
Warnings - none!
Ophelia Lupin-Black was deep in a peaceful and quiet slumber. It was way past eight thirty in the morning and the girl was still asleep, not moving a muscle as she dreamt happily.
But of course, peace doesn't last long in the Lupin-Black household.
It's almost impossible to have a moment of stillness when you've got people like Remus, Sirius and Ophelia Lupin-Black.
The three most stubborn, mischievous, chaotic and humourous people living under the same roof. Yeah, not a good idea at times.
The door of Ophelia's bedroom opened slowly with a creak and in stepped Sirius Lupin-Black, the 'Black smirk' painted his lips as he tip-toed towards the bed.
"From what I think you're about to do," said Remus in a soft voice. "You probably don't value your life very much".
Sirius glanced at his husband who was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over the maroon sweater and a disapproving look on his face.
"Oh come on! It'll be fun!" Sirius whined.
"You do know what happened the last time you woke her up like that don't you?"
The other stood silent as small clips of that horrendous day ram in his mind, reminding him of the tortures he had to go through.
"But I was Sirius' last time. Now I'll wake her up as Padfoot. It'll be fine," he shrugged it off and turned towards his sleeping daughter with a grin.
Looking at Remus, Sirius gave him one last wink before transforming into Padfoot and quite literally jumping on the bed four times like a hyper wild animal.
"Da," a low growl and groan was heard making him stop immediately as he cautiously looked at Ophelia.
"Morning love!" Remus chirped in and quickly went over to sit beside her, not wanting Sirius to face the inevitable wrath.
Ophelia gave him a sleepy smile, but then her face hardened as she turned to look at her Dad, her eyes narrowed under furrowed eyebrows.
Last time, Sirius hadn't transformed into Padfoot to wake her up. So this day, he thought he had some advantage as the girl loved his Animagus form.
So deciding to test his theory, Padfoot stepped closer and whined loudly like a wounded animal. He placed his hand on his paws and looked up at her with those big, innocent puppy dog eyes.
"Oh damn you and your bloody Animagus form," she swore and couldn't help herself from scratching Padfoot behind his ears.
His tail started wagging instantly and he pounced, paws on her shoulder as he tickled her face with licks.
"Alright, alright stop!" She shrieked with laughter and tried to push him away.
"Pa! Help me! He's ticking- it tickles!" Ophelia gasped out and dodged her playful father as best as she could
But instead of assisting, Remus joined forces with Sirius and started tickling her sides mercilessly.
"Hey!!" She shouted as her stomach ached and tears fell down on her cheeks from laughing so hard.
The pair stopped their malicious teasing and Sirius transformed back to his self. Both of them smiling at the uncountable happiness lighting Ophelia's face.
Small chuckles were still escaping her lips as she wiped the tears and clutched at her slightly aching abdomen. "That wasn't a fair fight".
"Life's never fair, darling," Sirius grinned and messed up her hair, earning him another disgruntled groan.
"Yeah yeah," she rolled her eyes and rested her head onto Remus' shoulder.
"Up you get now," He whispered and smiled as he tried smoothening her rumpled black locks. "Reg will be waiting".
At that her face immediately lit up and she grinned uncontrollably, "You should've reminded me!"
"You see that, Rem? See how her face is practically glowing? I see who's your favourite," Sirius huffed and pouted.
"Don't worry, Da. You're definitely in the top five," she smiled, failing to hide the obvious mischief behind the innocent look that grazed her face.
"I love you too," he grumbled but then rolled his eyes and chuckled as she hugged him tightly.
"You got away with trouble this time Da," Ophelia suddenly muttered. "But I promise I'll get you back for it soon enough," she smirked at him.
"I'll be waiting," Sirius grinned back and moved to sit to her right, his back leaning against the headboard.
"Oh sure you will. You'll be delighted for the upcoming surprise after knowing Uncle Reg and Pa will be helping me," she chuckled like a maniac before going to take a bath.
Sirius' head snapped over to his husband before you could even say mischief. "Moony? Is this true?"
All Remus could do was smirk and laugh as the other's eyes were wide open.
"What kind of outrageous betrayal is this?!" Sirius cried out dramatically. "My own husband and brother turning against me? This is ridiculous!"
"Be prepared, Da!" Ophelia's shout was heard from the bathroom. And despite not seeing her, the two could hear the grin spreading across her face.
"I'll plan a better one with James!" The man-child yelled back in response.
"Go on then! Team Ophelia has the alliance of Lily Evans!"
And that was the comeback that had left Sirius with no words to retort.
#wolfstar#wolfstar daughter#andrew garfield#ben barnes#harry potter ff#remus lupin#sirius black#remus x sirius#remus and sirius#ben barnes fic#andrew garfield fic#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar fic#marauders ff
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: Andrew Garfield x actress!reader (fc: Florence Pugh)
summary: Actress, YN YSN is spotted at the park with Andrew Garfield. It was one time, but the fans and detectives on the Internet know better, don't they? It all comes to the small details and then big articles.
masterlist taglist another andrew post
——————————————————————————————
andrewgarfieldupdates
liked by andrewgarfieldlasagna and 19 302 others
andrewgarfieldupdates ANDREW and YN YSN spotted together on a walk in YN's hometown!!
view all 3 392 comments
andrewspiderman we haven't seen him in a while and that's how he decided to show up????
⤷ andrewsmylove idont think he planned on being seen
ynupdates after all those years of yn praising andrew for his work, it's good to see that she got to meet him
ynshands well, I could really seen them together
⤷ user49 isn't he like much older than her?
⤷ ynsmymama she's an adult, he's too. i think they can make their own decisions
user93 im so here for it!
——————————————————————————————
ynupdates
liked by ynsmymama, andrewgarfieldupdates and 14 492 others
ynupdates MORE OF YN AND ANDREW out in her hometown!!!!
view all 2 201 comments
ynsmymama the second photo the second photo the second photo
ynsmybestie OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
andrewgarfieldlasagna i love to see it, they're so cuuuuuute
ynshands my parents, im just going to put that out there now
andrewspiderman love it! absolutely perfectly looking couple (i hope so, at least)
——————————————————————————————
ynsmymama
liked by ynupdates, andrewgarfieldlasagna and 18 301 others
ynsmymama please tell me im not the only one who heard ANDREW FREAKING GARFIELD in the background of tonight's 'cooking with YNN'... RIGHT? like the moment after she was like 'where the hell are wooden spoons in this kitchen?' and then 'im sorry guys, im not in my usual set up. for today im using my friend's kitchen' AND RIGHT THERE YOU CAN HEAR HIM 'they are right behind you, next to the stove, love'. RIGHT? IT WAS HIM?! or am I delusional?
view all 1 302 comments
ynupdates I think so too!!
andrewgarfieldupdates it did sound like andrew, especially the 'love'
andrewsmylove i can recognise that bitches voice anywhere. if i ever heard andrew, that was andrew. and let me tell you, I've heard andrew.
⤷ andrewbtch i love your confidence
ynshands they are sooo together
⤷ user87 cannot they be friends?
——————————————————————————————
andrewandyn
liked by ynupdates, andrewgarfieldupdates and 25 302 others
andrewandyn YN AND ANDREW behind the stage of their Oscar's announcing duty!!!
view all 2 402 comments
ynupdates oh, she looked so beautiful
ynsmymama okay, it's been more than a year since we've seen them together for the first time. they are together, right?
⤷ andrewsmylove right??? it's been 1,5 years
ynsmybestie the way she looks at him, LOVE EYES
andrewsbaby find yourself someone that looks at you the way yn looks at andrew
ynshands why is nobody talking about the way HE look AT HER??? the way he was helping her up and down those stairs, keeping his hand on he rower back?? the check-ins, whispering in her ear??? im goooone
——————————————————————————————
andrewgarfieldupdates
liked by ynupdates, andrewgarfieldlasagna and 34 492 others
andrewgarfieldupdates ANDREW AND YN SPOTTED IN LONDON !!! SHE'S PREGNANT, YOU GUYS
view all 3 302 comments
ynupdates that's why we didn't see yn in the last couple of months!!!!
⤷ ynshands i was getting really worried out here
andrewgarfieldlasagna MILF & DILF THATS FREAKING RIGHT
ynsmybestie they were waking right out of the hospital!!! probably a checkup or something
user45 andrew garfield a father? im so here for it
user92 can't wait to see the internet breaking
——————————————————————————————
celebrityupdates
liked by user45 and 103 492 others
celebrityupdates BREAKING NEWS Actress YN YSN went into labour at the parking lot outside of the grocery store. Her rumoured boyfriend, actor Andrew Garfield, accompanied her to the ambulance . People from the scene said it was a very dramatic and nerve-wracking experience for both parties (YN and Andrew and the watchers). For more photos from the scene and more insight, check our website!
view all 19 302 comments
ynupdates you should be disgusted by yourself 'dramatic and nerve-wracking'?! try getting into labour at the public place yourself, you moron
andrewgarfieldupdates two parents-to-be being scared to death and anxious and you're out here writing AN ARTICLE ABOUT IT?! are you out of your mind?
ynsmybestie you really cannot respect their privacy, can you?
andrewspiderman you really have nothing better to do?
user56 that's a new low for gossip magazines
user67 funny how your photographer was literally walking behind them, taking photos even though Andrew asked not to. I hope you'll face consequences
——————————————————————————————
andrewgarfieldupdates
liked by ynupdates, andrewspiderman and 12 201 others
andrewgarfieldupdates ANDREW walking to the hospital today's morning!
view all 1 101 comments
andrewspiderman he's driving a mini???
ynupdates I hope everything went smoothly and they welcomed a healthy baby!
ynsmybestie he looks so good but distressed
ynsmymama congratulations to two of my favourite people on earth
user45 aren't you the one being mad at the article about the labour?
——————————————————————————————
ynupdates
liked by andrewgarfieldupdates and 15 502 others
ynupdates YN VIA HER IG STORIES!!!
view all 2 303 comments
andrewgarfieldupdates ohhhhhhhh, i love them so much
ynsmymama she's the sweetest person on earth, even her remark on paps was light and gentle (i would take them to court or smt)
ynsmybestie i hope they can appreciate this time as parents to the fullest! it really is a magical time
ynsmybestie also, cannot wait to see her at the premiere!!!!
user45 i very much understand taking a break. i can't with people calling her selfish??? like, she just gave birth, has a newborn. of course she'd like to take a break!
——————————————————————————————
vanityfair
liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates and 341 201 others
vanityfair We are at the London premiere for Oppenheimer! The biggest appearance of the night (despite having a little to no screen time) was made by a new mom, YN YSN. YN welcomed her first child just two weeks ago, and today is her last day of work for the near future. 'Wanna spend time with my man and my baby,' said the actress during one of her on carpet interviews. But when one of the people asked her, 'Where did you leave your baby, aren't they just few weeks old?' Despite being told by her publicist to walk away, she accepted the question. 'My baby has a father that knows how to take care of them. Why are you bothered by a mother working or being away from her child for a few hours?' And we stand with this statement made by YN.
view all 10 301 comments
ynupdates I just knew someone was going to ask her that question. People really forget that some good part of newborn babies ha e a father or grandparents to take care of them when mum needs to work
⤷ user45 needs? she's an actress she can say no
⤷ ynupdates there is something called a contract where she is told what she is expected (needed) to do to get paid. being an actor is not only about acting but the promotion and more.
andrewspiderman THE MOTHERS THE MILF
andrewgarfieldupdates she looks sooooo good
ynsmymama i love her answer about hair 'why the drastic change? Well, it's easier to manage in the morning or in the middle of the night. also, my baby doesn't pull at them! a win win situation!' SO TRUEEEE !!! my little sister used to pull the shit out of my hair when she was a baby
ynsmybestie 'Andy, well, my partner, ah you already know about him!' the way she wanted to cover saying his name!!!
andrewspiderman absolute cutie
——————————————————————————————
a/n: I neglected my promise on making a fic for Andrew, so sorry. but i hope the wait was worth it??
#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield
269 notes
·
View notes
Note
can i get make up sex with andrew? plsss
Author's Notes: Thank you for the request, and your patience. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this out - and I hope this is something similar to what you had imagined. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo
Warnings: Swearing, Established relationship, Mentions of drinking, Mentions/ threats of violence - no acts of violence, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smut * (angry Andrew is v. dom I believe this wholeheartedly, spanking) MINORS DNI
Requested? Yes. Requests are closed for the time being.
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
It wasn't often that Andrew got angry with her. In fact, he considered himself to be more of the cool, calm and collected type. He was able to let things roll off his shoulders and move on with with his life, never sweating the small stuff.
But today, she was being a downright pain in his ass. A brat, and she was pushing every single button he had. His shoulders were tense, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up while his top lip curled in anger. He balled his fists at his sides as he made a beeline over to her across the bar, his chest puffed up to assert his dominance.
"Let's go. Home time, yeah?" Andrew grumbled close to her ear as she leaned over the bar talking to some cretin just to make him mad. She tossed her hips from side to side as she held herself up on her elbows on the bar, her shirt low and showing off her breasts.
"I'm not ready. I'm talking to - what was your name again?" She slurred as she sipped her cocktail and tossed her hair over her shoulder.
"Doesn't matter, man. She's with me. Think you made your point, lovey." Andrew glared at the man trying to pick up his girlfriend then turned his gaze to his woman.
"If the lady doesn't want to leave-" The guy to Andrew's right spoke up, and that was all he could take. Andrew slammed his fists on the bar as he turned to the stranger and glared.
"She's my fucking girlfriend and she only talking to you to piss me off. And it fucking worked. Now, back the fuck off before I put you in the ground." Andrew snarled through his teeth.
The lady? The lady? Fuck this guy. She was his woman. And Andrew was ready to fight for her. She was just pouty with him because he didn't want to dance with her, so she stomped away and pulled in some poor sap to tease. Andrew watched from afar, letting her play her game, but eventually it got out of hand and he had to intercept. Said poor sap didn't even know he was a pawn in their game.
Andrew looked the guy over menacingly once more before he placed a hand on the back of his girlfriend's neck and pulled her away from the bar, her whine audible.
"How far were you going to let that go? That motherfucker was about to put his hands on you." Andrew growled as he led her to their car, unlocking it. He pinned her to the side of the car, and looked her over. Her drunk body was weak as she reached for his shirt and twisted it in her hands to show off his abs.
"I knew you were watching me. And I wouldn't have let him touch me. I wasn't upset like that. I just wanted your attention." She cooed, standing on her toes to kiss his mouth.
"Well, I'm upset with you. You're too friendly when you're drunk. And you're being a brat today. It makes me - "
"What?" She whispered against his lips as she staggered her nose over his. She loved to egg him on when she got into moods like this, sending sparks of electricity through his body.
"It makes me want to tie you up, make you scream my name and beg to let you cum. Spank your ass until it's red and you're a fucking mess for me, telling me how sorry you are. Because I'm in fucking charge. I'm your man." Andrew growled as he took hold of her chin to gently, but with intention guide her to look at him.
"I'll let you take me home and do whatever you want to me, baby." She breathed out with a smile as she reached for his belt buckle.
"Get your ass in the car. Now." Andrew murmured as he released her chin and walked over to the other side of the car.
Andrew drove them home in a tense silence, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He walked inside their house without a word to her, his hands running over his face while he pursed his lips.
"Baby, are you - "
"M'not your baby right now. Understand me? Do as I ask and I'll let you touch, let you finish." Andrew growled as he grabbed her hair and pulled, forcing her to look up at him. She was so pretty, so fucking needy still and he hated how his body just ignited for her.
"Okay." She whispered as she curled her body into his.
"Get your ass in bed, pants off and ass in the air. Go." Andrew snapped with a tug of her hair before he released her from his grip. He watched her scurry to their bedroom, his body unbearably hot as he looked at her hips sway for him.
Andrew took a moment, rolled his neck and pulled his shoulders back before he slowly, but with purpose, walked to their bedroom. He exhaled heavily when he saw her on the bed exactly as he had requested - bottomless, ass in the air and reaching for their headboard.
"So, you can listen to me. You just choose what to hear." Andrew growled as he removed his ball-cap and shrugged out of his button up. He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes fixed on her backside.
"You're so hot for me right now, don't lie." She cooed as she lazily tossed her hips from side to side, enticing him to touch her.
"Never said I wasn't. Fucking brat." Andrew snarled as he pulled his wrist back and snapped it forward, smacking her left ass cheek making her gasp out loud. He ran his palm over her stinging flesh, then moved his hand to the other side to spank her again.
"Hold the headboard. Wrist over wrist. C'mon, let's go." Andrew grunted as he knelt behind her on the bed and covered her body with his to guide her hands above her head.
"Andrew.."
"I meant what I said in the lot, lovey. Use your lights if you need. But you are mine and I'm going to make sure you know it." Andrew breathed out as he took hold of her pretty face to turn her gaze towards him.
"Green light." She whispered as she arched her back, her backside rubbing into his lap while he kept his body over hers.
"The only man you should toss these hips around for is me. Do you understand?" Andrew growled as he pulled his body upright and spanked her again, hard.
"Yes." She shivered, hands gripping the headboard tightly.
"You don't tease other men to get a rise out of me. You're mine. You're fucking mine. Do you understand me?" Andrew spat as he spanked her one more time then pulled his body away from hers to slowly undress himself.
"No, come back ! M'sorry, baby. Please let me go. Let me see your face." She sobbed out as she curled into him, trying to make their bodies one, her hips pushing back to find him again.
"That didn't take long. Thought you had more fight in you than that, lovey." Andrew murmured as he reached up to tap her wrists, let her know she could bring them back down. He let out a soft gasp as she turned over in his arms and knocked him to his back, her affection abundant.
"I don't want to play like that anymore. I don't like when you're mad at me, and won't let me touch. M'sorry I was a pain, baby. I love you."She whispered as she kissed his neck, her body curling into his desperate for his attention.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you, lovey. But I felt so territorial watching you with that guy. I fucking hated it. Don't do that to me again. Even for my attention. You have all of my attention. I promise you." Andrew breathed out as he grabbed her hips to cease her tantalizing movement and flipped her onto her back again. He laid between her legs and kissed her neck lovingly, softly, as she whined for him.
"M'sorry, baby." She repeated as she twisted her fingers into his hair, her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close.
"I know, lovey. I am, too." Andrew mumbled into the crease of her neck as his hips pinned hers to the mattress. He kissed his way back to her lips, smiling as she kissed him back with force and locked her feet beneath his backside.
He hadn't wanted to dance with her at the bar because he knew if he got close to her, let her push back against him, he would feel just as needy as her. He knew that he would feel feral in an almost unbearable way, and he didn't want to feel like that out in public. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy feeling like that for her, but he wanted to be in a space that allowed them immediate intimacy.
He was inside of her instantly. The push and pull of the two of them was unbearable for the evening and was erased in that moment. He held his weight on his forearms as he rested his forehead against hers, their bodies moving as one.
He loved her, and he would always fight for her. She was his, and he was hers.
**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being as well as taking requests, just while I get my "ducks" in a row after coming back.Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo
#andrew garfield fan fic#andrew garfield x reader smut#andrew garfield one shot#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield#andrew garfield blurb#andrew garfield imagine#andrew garfield smut
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
My three moods this past years:
Depressed
Horny
In love with Andrew Garfield
#andrew garfield#tasm! peter parker x reader#tasm#peter parker#andrewgarfieldedit#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield fanfiction#andrew garfield spiderman#andrew garfield smut#andrew garfield x reader#he has a nice ass#and a nice face
714 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
rightfulpath
「 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗼 」
monalisashit
ophelia
mn-linux-news
MN Linux News
bestroofingcompanynyc
best roofing company nyc
xdreamingcaleb
Giurσ sσlєnnєmєnтє di nσn αvєrє вuσnє intєnziσni