#andrew garfield fluff

[cruel-seduction]

Midnight Encounters

Content Warning:

* Blood (minor injury)

* Mildly intense situations

Summary : You thought a midnight snack might cure your insomnia. Instead, you find a masked stranger injured and raiding your pantry. One odd kiss and a few strange confessions later, you’re left questioning what just happened—and if he’ll show up in your kitchen again.

Glimpse - “Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

(Picture taken from pinterest)

You shuffle into your dark kitchen, rubbing your eyes and hoping that a mug of chamomile tea might finally bring some sleep. It’s 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of your apartment is a small comfort on this otherwise restless night.

But as you turn on the kitchen light, your heart nearly stops.

A figure, dressed head-to-toe in black and red, sits on your floor. He’s wearing a Spider-Man suit—the Spider-Man suit, complete with the mask—and he’s holding a spoonful of Nutella, chocolate smudged on the white eye lenses. A dark smear trails down the side of his masked head, and you realize with a jolt that it’s blood. He’s been injured.

“I can explain,” he says quickly, as though realizing how insane this all looks.

You stare, stunned, gripping the countertop as your mind races through every logical reaction: scream, run, maybe even call the police. But you’re frozen, your brain failing to compute why Spider-Man, a masked stranger, is sitting on your kitchen floor eating Nutella—Nutella you don’t even own.

After a beat of silence, he clears his throat, though the spoon remains poised mid-air. “Actually, no, I can’t.”

You glance at the jar, realizing with bewilderment that it isn’t even yours. “You… you brought your own Nutella?”

“Well… yes?” He shifts awkwardly, spoon still in hand. “It was an emergency.”

The absurdity hits you at once, and despite the fear bubbling up in your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “So, you break into my apartment… at 2 a.m., bleeding all over my floor, just to eat—your Nutella?”

The masked eyes widen in shock as he sets the jar down. “Whoa, no—no.” He waves his hands in defense. “That’s not—Look, I didn’t mean to break in.” He hesitates, sounding oddly defensive, like he’s scrambling to explain himself without making it worse. “It’s just—I was out there, chasing some guys, and things went south. And I saw your fire escape and… I needed a break.”

His head tilts up to face you fully, white lenses narrowing as if gauging your reaction. He shifts, trying to tuck a torn edge of his suit further behind him, but you’re still too stunned to speak.

“Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

For a few seconds, you consider calling the police or just grabbing a frying pan, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the slight slump in his shoulders or the way he mutters about bad timing. Whatever it is, you reach into your cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit and holding it out, staying cautiously a few steps away.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding almost surprised.

As he fumbles with the bandages, you slowly sink to the floor across from him, careful to keep your distance. “So… you’re just gonna patch yourself up here? With my first aid kit?”

“I’ll leave you some web fluid as payment, if you want,” he says, voice muffled as he tears open a bandage.

It’s utterly bizarre, watching Spider-Man—the Spider-Man—clumsily patch himself up on your kitchen floor, trying to look like this is normal.

“You know, breaking into random kitchens is… probably not in the superhero handbook,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles, sounding as surprised by it as you are. “I’ll make a note of that. Avoid random kitchens.” He glances at you, a bit more cautious, and adds, “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d expect, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m freaking out,” you reply, though you feel your own defensiveness slip a little. “I’m just too tired to run screaming into the street right now.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, the only sound the soft crinkling of bandages and the faint hum of the fridge. But when he speaks again, his voice is almost shy. “Thank you for… you know, not throwing me out.”

You can only manage a small nod, realizing that the man beneath the mask—whoever he is—seems like someone who hasn’t had many moments of kindness like this. In the gentle light, you share a moment of quiet understanding, two strangers who just happened to meet in the strangest of ways.

Spider-Man fumbles with the bandages, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. He finishes securing a Band-Aid to his temple and mumbles a quiet “thanks” as he lowers his hands to his lap, looking oddly bashful for someone who spends his nights swinging across skyscrapers.

For a few moments, you sit in silence, staring at the floor, wondering if you’ll wake up from this fever dream. But the soft glow of your kitchen light and the distant sound of city traffic outside make it all feel surprisingly real. And he’s sitting right there, masked and bruised, shoulders slightly slouched, as if the weight of the night has finally caught up with him.

Finally, you clear your throat, breaking the silence. “So… you do this often?”

He looks up, those wide white lenses shifting slightly in a way that somehow communicates a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. Usually, I just…” He pauses, tapping his fingers on his knees. “You know, avoid breaking into people’s kitchens.”

You raise an eyebrow, managing a smirk despite yourself. “So, is Nutella an essential part of the Spider-Man toolkit?”

There’s a muffled laugh from beneath the mask, soft and genuine. “Don’t knock it. Chocolate is a top-tier snack when you’re exhausted. Which…” He gestures vaguely to his bloodied suit, “…happens more than you’d think.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, the surreal nature of it all slowly sinking in. But there’s something else in the air too, a kind of mutual understanding that feels strangely… comforting.

Spider-Man shifts, glancing toward the window. “I should go. Before you change your mind about calling the police.”

You laugh, and it surprises you both. “I guess it would be hard to explain why Spider-Man was eating Nutella on my floor.”

He snorts, moving to stand. “Let’s keep that between us, then.”

But before he can fully rise, something stops you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—through the mask, yes, but there’s a gentleness there, a warmth that you didn’t expect. Or maybe it’s the fact that tonight feels like a moment outside of time, a brief connection with someone who risks everything for strangers every day, yet somehow ended up needing you tonight.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out, gently catching his hand. “Wait.”

He pauses, tilting his head in curiosity as he glances down at where your fingers brush against his glove. Without thinking it through, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his masked cheek.

“Thank you for protecting the city,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “And… for trusting me. Even if it’s just for a minute.”

You see him stiffen for a second, as though the gesture has completely caught him off guard. Then, his shoulders relax, and he lowers his head, the hint of a smile somehow visible even through the mask.

“Thank you,” he replies softly, voice tinged with genuine warmth. “For not freaking out. And for, you know… the Nutella.”

You laugh again, and it’s then that he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away, moving toward the window.

“Take care of yourself, Spider-Man,” you say, a soft ache already building in your chest as he reaches the fire escape.

He pauses on the ledge, glancing back at you, his white eye lenses narrowing in a kind of gentle, playful expression. “Sweet dreams. And hey—maybe next time, I’ll bring peanut butter.”

Then, in one fluid movement, he’s gone, disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in your dim kitchen, with a half-eaten jar of Nutella and the lingering warmth of an unexpected kiss.

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[conniesanchor]

peter parker sfw alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

peter will never not have his hands on you. if you're within arms distance, he has his hand on your thigh or waist. when you're on walks, he's holding your hand tight. lying down? you're laying on him.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

you've known each other forever. peter keeps to himself a lot of the time but never with you. it would be one of those friendships where you're not exactly certain when you became friends, you just became friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

peter hates the thought of you not near him. so, when you're just lying down? you're cuddling together. ofc he won't force you to be near him if you're having a day where you don't want to be touched, but he's always down to cuddle. he's normally the bug spoon but if he comes home from a hard night on patrol, he isn't opposed to letting you be it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

peter knows that he wants to marry you the second he sees you. he never used to believe in love at first sight, but then he met you, and his world changed. he will marry you, and he will make a great father if you are willing to let him. as for cooking, horrible cook. you eat takeout and unhealthy amount. he's always willing to help you clean up, though. constantly asking if you need any help.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if he had to, peter would only break up with you to keep you safe, and he would let you know that. he would do everything to avoid it though, you're his world.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

peter is 1000% sure about you, but he wouldn't rush anything. he would totally want to marry you, don't get me wrong, but he is the type of person who believes that marriage is just a piece of paper. i’d say he would propose after five or six years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

i can't see this man being anything but gentle. his tone is soft and kind. he's never harsh when he holds you, and his choice of words are never mean. he's only ever snapped at you a few times, and he was so apologetic afterward.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

peter LOVES hugs. when he gets home from patrol, he will find you and literally melt into you. if you're having a bad day, he walks up to you and wraps his arms around your neck and lays his chin on your head. if he's having a bad day, he wraps his arms around your waist and let's his head rest on your shoulder.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

not fast. like i said before, he is completely sure about you. he just doesn't want to rush you. he thinks that if he says it, you'll feel pressured to say it, too. he doesn't want that. he would be pretty upset when you say it first, though. he wanted to say it first, but when he knew you were sure, about him.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he would get jealous pretty easily. peter is a really insecure person and isn't really sure why you're with him. i think he def shuts down when he's jealous, but doesn't blame you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

he has never ever only kissed you once. even if you're fighting, he litters your face in kisses. he especially likes to rest his lips just behind your ear. but when you kiss him? he loves old fashion. he wants a kiss right on the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

he's great around kids, but he's confused as to why they like him. i think peter is very awkward but would do anything to make them happy.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

peter parker is a morning person. peter parker is willing to be less of a morning person when you beg him to stay in bed with you. enough said.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

peter is usually out patrolling at night. he gets home pretty late only to find you on the couch after a miserable attempt to stay up for him. he kisses your forehead and takes you to the bedroom, showers, and then goes to bed beside you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he's really closed off. it takes him a while to trust you fully, so he starts with baby steps. once he warms up a little bit, he tells you everything. he knows you, and you know him. he loves that you were happy to take small steps with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

in general, he has little to no patience. with you, he's probably the most patient man in the world. he knows everything about you and is more than willing to take things slow. he rarely ever blows up on you, and normally, it's after a long night out on patrol. he never means to, and he apologies profusely afterward.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

like i already mentioned, he knows you completely. he is always so attentive when it comes to you. whether it's something as little as your favorite color or bigger things that you're reluctant to tell others.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

call him cliché, but the moment you met. he will literally tell that story over and over to everyone you guys come into contact with.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

incredibly protective. i mean, come on. the man is spiderman. anyone goes near HIS person, he will riot.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

so so much effort. candlelit dinners for dates. big bouquet and expensive gifts for anniversaries. he is always willing to help you with anything, and he doesn't ever not try when it comes to you. this man is so afraid to lose you that he puts so much time and care into everything he does for you and with you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

peter lacks communication. he knows he does, and it makes him so sad when he sees you try to figure out what his problem is, and he can't tell you. he starts to work really hard at it when you come into the picture though.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

couldn't care less. i think he knows he's attractive but also kind of thinks that you like him for much more than his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

completely empty without you. he doesn't remember what life was like before you and can't picture it without you, after you. the thought alone makes him miserable.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

peter loves to pick you up. he literally finds an excuse to do it no matter what.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he would hate smoking. of course, he wouldn't not get with you. if he likes you, he likes you. he would strongly encourage you to quit, though.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

peter is a blanket hog. sorry, not sorry.

[finelinevogue]

under wraps

summary - you and andrew are on a talk show together & you are also in a secret relationship

word count - +1k

pairing - andrew garfield x actress!reader

🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿

“Andrew, have you ever met Y/N?”

“I-um - yes! Briefly.”

“Where?”

Well that was a long question that would have to be answered with a lot of lies.

Going on chat shows where you and Andrew were both on at the same time were rare, but when it did happen it was very difficult to keep your relationship a kept secret.

You and Andrew had been dating for 7 months now and were doing well to keep it under wraps - which you both wanted to keep that way for as long as possible - but going on live chat shows was always a risk.

You’d both set up all your fake stories ages ago so that when you got asked questions like he’d just been asked, it would be okay.

“I believe - this is going to sound so douchey to say - but I believe it was at Paul McCartney’s birthday party last year?” Andrew looked to you for confirmation.

It was even harder to keep everything under-wraps on this chat show as you’d been placed next to each other on the chat sofa.

It was nice to be sat next to your boyfriend.

He smelt great and he was an immense comfort to you - as he is clearly a huge, global, mega-star whereas you are best-known for your role as a main character on a well-known British TV show.

It’s always a little nervy being sat next to the big names in the leagues, but Andrew always had a way of being the bridge and bringing everyone together.

“Oooh la-di-daaa!” Graham Norton - the host - teased. “Paul McCartney! You have gone up in the world.”

The audience and the rest of the celebrity guests laughed - including Florence Pugh, who was here to promote her new movie that also starred Andrew, Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, who were here to promote their new movie.

“Paul was also there.” Andrew pointed out, to which Paul nodded along.

“And Pedro?” Graham prompted.

“Oh, Paul McCartney doesn’t know who I am.” He said, which got a laugh from the audience. Once the audience had died down he spoke again, “But, Madonna however….”

After people had quietened down, Graham returned to asking questions.

“Y/N. You’ve got your new series of ‘The Lovely Life’ coming out.” Graham said.

Andrew started clapping immediately, prompting other people to start clapping with him and giving you a cheer or two.

You blushed slightly as you took note of the celebrities clapping for you, inching ever so closer to Andrew to try and hide the endearment.

“Brilliant show.” Andrew commented - as if he doesn’t tell you that every day you go to work and every other day of your life.

“Thanks.” You smile, giving him a few extra words of kindness with your eyes as you look at him lovingly.

“But it’s not really a show about lovely life, is it Y/N?” Graham asked.

“No, no it’s not.” You sighed.

“Have you seen it, Pedro?” Graham asked.

Pedro pushed his glasses up his nose a little and focuses his body to face you as he speaks, “No. I apologise, but no I haven’t.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled at him, feeling no untowards him.

Some of the audience gasp.

“Oh no.” Florence laughed.

“What? What did I just say?” Pedro looked alarmed, sending you into a giggling fit.

“You’ve just burned the hearts of the UK. Cancel culture will be coming for you.” Paul answered for his friend, patting him in the shoulder solemnly, making everyone laugh and you shake your head at how overdramatic it was.

“No, no!” You shook your head, not wanting to upset Pedro or anything even though it was all in jest.

“How dare you!” Andrew bellowed beside you, also sticking up for you and your programme as a joke.

You leaned back on the sofa, covering your face with your hands as you tried to let the couch swallow you whole.

Once everyone had calmed down again Graham returned to asking questions.

“Y/N, do you want to tell us a little bit about this new season?” He asked.

You crossed a leg over the other, making sure your flowy dress didn’t flash anyone as you did.

“I’m not sure how much I can say, but my character - Ruby - does not catch a break this season! She is back with her ex-boyfriend Jake but there’s also, maybe, potentially, someone new too. Obviously she still is in a lot of trouble from last season so we get to see a lot of that story brought over into this season too.”

“Do we find out if Ruby did kill her dad?” Florence asked, on the edge of her seat.

“To that I will say… The answer has already been revealed.”

That caused the audience and the celebrities to gasp. You giggled as you watched their faces - Andrew’s in particular because he’s constantly asking you questions like that but never gets an answer.

Andrew is super passionate about the work that you do and is constantly encouraging you to try new things and different types of acting. You wouldn’t be as confident as you were today had it not been for Andrew showing you how amazing you really are.

“I have no idea whether this show is streamed in America–.” Pedro said.

“It’s not.” Andrew cut in.

“Well then I will just have to stay in England for longer to binge your show, Y/N. I’m hooked already!”

“Thank you.” You smiled kindly.

“Now, Andrew and Florence. Your new movie is coming out in January, am I right?” Graham asked.

“Yes. January the first.” Florence answered.

“I’ve always wanted to know whether as actors you find it difficult to do intimate scenes with one another - ‘cause I imagine they’re quite intense but it’s also not someone you’ve built an intimate connection with let’s say.”

“Well Florence and I were lucky in that we really trusted one another and felt safe with each other in that space, so I don’t think either one of us felt uncomfortable, right?” Andrew answered, prompting Florence for a response.

“Yeah and I think also there’s an element of knowing in the back of your mind that this is a piece of work that we’ve committed to, and we want to do it well. We have to look convincing to do the job well, which then helps make the acting look more convincing as well.” Florence answered.

“Well you’re very good actors because from the trailer alone you look like you’re a fully committed couple.” Graham laughed, causing other people to agree.

“We’re in a platonic relationship in real life.” Andrew grabbed Florence’s hand to gesture their friendship bond.

You smiled as you watched them.

At the beginning of your relationship, it had been a little difficult to adjust to dating someone who is so high profile in comparison to you. Now, you’re feeling more and more confident within yourself and your own worth each day which makes seeing on-screen chemistry with Andrew’s co-stars easier.

Yours and Andrew’s relationship was - just like any other relationship - built on a pillar of trust and you were very fortunate that you had a lot of trust for each other because you respected each other.

“Well your chemistry is very convincing.” Graham said.

“That’s because we’re great actors.” Florence smiled - earning a cheer from the audience.

No amount of Graham’s meddling would cause Andrew’s gaze to shift from yours.

Once people had settled back down you noticed Andrew’s hand sitting on the chair next to his thigh.

You convincingly, pretend to tuck a hand under your own thigh, pretending like it was a comfort thing, and ever so slightly reached out your pinky finger to touch Andrew’s.

He clearly was on the same wavelength as you because you felt his pinky finger stretching too.

The comfort alone when your pinky fingers grazed each other was warm and lovely. You tried your best to not let your reaction visibly show, but it was hard not to slightly smile or blush when Andrew made you feel so much. So so much.

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Flirting with Disaster

Paring: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader (Brother's bestfriend)

Summary: You're about to go on the first real date you’ve had in years, and the nerves are hitting hard. So, you turn to the one person who might help: Peter Parker, your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: Roughly 1.5k 

Warnings: Fluff, anxiety around dating, mentions of insecurities, unrequited/complicated feelings, cringe-worthy moments

Note: I’m planning on making this a three-part or a four-part. Let’s see. Oh, and I've been away from my usual shenanigans, so I am going to post twice this weekend :)

Part 2

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

You sat cross-legged on your bed, phone in hand, as if looking at it too long might make it spontaneously combust. The flutter in your stomach definitely wasn’t from hunger. 

No, tonight was the night—a real date. A proper date with an actual guy. 

And the thought of it had you wanting to crawl under your blankets and pretend the world didn’t exist.

Your friends were all in your corner, practically sending you a virtual pep squad of texts: You got this! Go for it, girl! But deep down? You felt more like a deer in headlights. Spiraling towards your impending doom.

You weren’t ready. Mentally? Nope. Emotionally? Not even close. Physically? Definitely not.

Flirting? Kissing? Oh God. It felt like you were about to attempt something far more complicated than rocket science, like you needed a PhD in how to act normally around a guy just to get through the night. And if anything even remotely intimate was on the horizon? Yeah, that sent you straight back to high school, where you could barely look at a guy without tripping over your own feet.

Talking to your brother about this? No way. He’d send you a full PowerPoint presentation on how awkward you were, followed by an Excel spreadsheet of potential embarrassing scenarios. Your mom? She’d tell you how beautiful you were and then proceed to give you every single detail of her first date with your dad, including the color of the sweater she wore and the exact type of pasta they had.

Which left you with one option.

Peter.

Peter freakin’ Parker.

He’d been your brother’s best friend since before you could remember. Still, somewhere along the way, he’d gone from being that cocky, arrogant, too-cool-for-school guy and literal genius whose favorite pass time was annoying you to someone who made your heart do a little flip every time he looked at you. The messy hair. The cocky grin. The snarky vibe that screamed I’m cooler than you, and you were just you. Awkward. Nerdy. And definitely, the girl who’d had an intense crush on him when you were younger, an embarrassing crush at that. But, for the record, you had mostly gotten over.

Mostly.

But now, with the date creeping closer and your nerves flaring up like fireworks in your chest, you were desperate. You needed help.

So you hit dial.

“Hey, little peach.” His voice slid through the phone like melted chocolate, smooth and warm, and the kind that made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t know how to process.

“Hi, Peter,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, trying and failing miserably.

“Long time, no talk. What’s up?” His voice was laced with that familiar mischief, the one that hinted he knew something was off but was enjoying every second of the suspense. “Don’t tell me you burned down your kitchen trying to make some sad excuse for pasta and now you’re too embarrassed to call the fire department? Because, if so, I’ll happily dress up as a fireman and fulfill that fantasy for you.”

You stammered, and he laughed. Loudly.

“You’re hilarious, asshole,” you grumbled.

“I try.” He chuckled. You could practically hear his smirk. “So what’s the emergency? Need bail money? Lemme see, petty theft? Destruction of public property? Actually, scratch that, even you wouldn’t pull something like that, peach.”

Peach. That damn nickname. It hit you like a sucker punch of nostalgia. You remembered summers spent trailing behind him and your brother, trying to act like you were calm and cool while you tripped over your own feet just trying to keep up with them.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to sound like you had it together. “Uh, I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Peter’s tone shifted instantly, a little more serious now. “Everything okay? You’re not in actual trouble, right?”

Panic crept up your spine. Why had you called him? This was so stupid. But here you were, spilling your guts anyway.

“Uh, yes. No. I mean…” You sighed, your voice wavering. “I have a date,” you muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear the tremble in your voice. “It’s tonight. And I’m freaking out. Like majorly.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then, that unmistakable chuckle, the one that made you want to punch him. “Wait. Hold on. You? Freaking out about a date? I didn’t know you had it in you little miss awkward. You?” His voice dragged out the last word like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the support, asshole,” you muttered. “You’re just gonna mock me, aren’t you? This was a waste of time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, regretting the entire call. You were better off canceling the date and hiding in your apartment with a Netflix binge and a pint of ice cream.

This was just as humiliating.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you mumbled. “Bye-”

“Hey, hey,” Peter interrupted. His tone softened, just a little. “I’m sorry for laughing, okay? But you know I can’t help it.”

You huffed, but something in his voice made you hesitate.

“But seriously, you? Nervous?” His voice was almost affectionate now, though he still sounded like he was having way too much fun with this. “Baby, you’re smart, you’re funny when you try, and last time I checked, you grew up gorgeous. What’s there to be nervous about, hm?”

Your heart did that weird skip thing, and you cursed your traitorous body. Baby.

He didn’t even know what he was doing to you when he said it. He said it like it was nothing—like it didn’t even matter. But it hit you harder than it should’ve. 

"Easy for you to say," you snapped back, but even as you tried to sound annoyed, there was a softness creeping into your voice. “It’s been forever since, you know, I’ve had to, like, flirt or kiss or whatever. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

There was a long pause. Then, Peter’s voice came through, low and laced with mischief. “Wait a second. Are you asking me to teach you how to flirt? I’m honored, peach.”

“What? No!” You nearly dropped the phone in your panic. “I…wait! No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, but now I have to,” Peter said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Come over. I’ll help you practice. Flirting, kissing, whatever you need.”

You gaped at the phone, heat rushing to your face. “You can’t be serious.”

“Come on, peach,” he continued a dangerous lilt in his tone. “You used to trust me with everything. Like that time you tried to ride my skateboard when you were, what, ten? You ate it so bad I thought your brother was gonna faint. But I carried you home, dried your tears, and made you laugh instead of cry. You know I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, cringing at the memory. You’d been ten, desperate to prove you weren’t just the annoying little sister of his best friend. You’d failed miserably, but Peter hadn’t laughed at you. Well, at least, not until after he made sure you were fine.

"Oh my god," you muttered, cringing at the thought. "I was a mess back then."

Peter’s voice softened, but that smirk was still there. "You were adorable, though. Adorable," he teased, his voice dripping with something almost affectionate. "Especially with those rainbow bandages on your knees. I swear, I could’ve sold tickets to that disaster."

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“So, come on over,” he pressed. “I’ll give you a crash course. I’m talking flirting 101, kissing for dummies, the whole shebang. You can thank me later.”

You bit your lip, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were blushing from memory or how his words made your stomach flip.

You hesitated for a second. This was ridiculous. 

"Peach, you still with me?" His voice broke through your thoughts. "What's your decision?"

But you sighed, giving in. “Alright,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Good girl,” Peter purred into the phone, and you froze. His voice sent a shock through your system that left you breathless. Suddenly, the whole flirting crash course didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

You knew he was messing with you, but it didn’t stop your skin from flushing.

You stared at your phone, wondering what you’d just gotten yourself into.

Peter Parker was going to help you with your love life. No big deal, right?

You weren’t that kid anymore. You definitely didn’t have a crush on Peter Parker.

“Don’t give me that look,” you glared at your stuffed animal as it silently judged you with its big brown eyes. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Mostly.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @ficcharsimp

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[gloomskulls]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚SQUEAKY CLEAN [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ peter wants to be pampered and bathe by you after being dirtied up by some robbers

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ fluff, wounds, peter falling lol, mud and dirt, lemme know if i missed any!

A/n: you know what was so funny? this was actually supposed to be a smut, but I low key don't feel like a whore today lol. Btw don't steal my shi, coz that will also make you shit.

The sound of hurried footsteps passed outside your apartment window, and although startled, you relaxed when you recognized the familiar person in a spandex suit coming closer. Peter always had a flair for dramatics and entrances, but tonight it seemed to be more chaotic than before. Moments later, the window creaked open, and he stumbled in, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

"Peter!" You rushed to his direction.

His Spider-man mask was drawn up to his nose, exposing a sheepish grin underneath. However, that was not the most alarming part—his suit was torn by mud and faint scratches could be seen through some torn parts on the arms.

"Hey, babe," He spoke, trying to sound casual, "before you say anything, it's the puddle that did it."

Raising an eyebrow, you replied, "Oh? The puddle did it?"

"Well, robbers started it, but the puddle finished it, long story short story—I won. Kind of." He gestured at his muddy, disheveled state.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "Let me guess—you couldn't resist some unnecessary flips to show off and got humbled by gravity?"

"Most shockingly accurate," he said with a weak grin of admission. "But can we save the sass for later? I think that puddle has some kind of grudge against me. Ow." He gestured to a particularly nasty scrape on his arm.

Shaking your head slightly with fond exasperation, you took his hand and led him off to the bathroom. "Come on, bug boy. We need to clean you up before you start the next supervillain origin story with an infected wound."

Peter followed you like a chastised puppy

As you pushed Peter onwards the bathroom door, the mud and dirt clung to the Spider-Man suit and was slowly soaking into the blood oozing from his injury during a fight with robbers. You could see the fatigue in his eyes; all his responsibilities as Spider-Man were now heavy burdens on his shoulders. But even such a rugged appearance could not take away that magical spark in his gaze that seemed to ignite every time he looked your way.

After switching on the light in the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinet for a first aid kit, you told him, "Sit," motioning to the edge of the bathtub.

He plopped down obediently, resting his elbows on his knees. You knelt in front of him, carefully peeling back the torn fabric of his suit to inspect the damage.

You quickly grabbed the first aid kit, but before you could even get it open, Peter looked up at you with those hollow eyes and said, "I'm filthy. Mind if I take a shower?"

You nodded with rival emotions raging inside you — one was concern; the other was something you could not figure out entirely. "Well, go ahead. The first aid kit is here, so take a shower, and then we got time to tend to your wounds."

He then put his voice into some very vulnerable tone and asked, "Could you… bathe me? I'm feeling a bit weak."

You should have figured. You saw his wounds; it was nasty but not fatal, something you probably get when you fall of a bike.

You threw him a derisive look. "Peter Parker, if this is some kind of trick just to get me to pamper you—"

"Okay, no, I'm serious this time! Scout's honor," he interrupted, holding up his hand in mock solemnity.

You roll your eyes as you grabbed a towel and tossing it over your shoulder. "Fine. But no funny business Parker."

Helping Peter shower is actually a bit less embarrassing than you'd thought it would be, at least to begin with. You stand outside the tub, holding him at the detachable showerhead while you rinse off the muddy spots on his back, being careful not to touch any cuts or bruises.

"This is so degrading," he mutters, but with a tone that clearly says 'he'd rather be caught dead' than annoyed at the present moment.

"Degrading? You begged me to get in here and help you, buddy," you shot back, scrubbing at an especially stubborn piece of dirt on his shoulder.

He winces before laughing quietly. "Yeah, but it's kind of nice, you know? Being taken care of."

The pause lengthens and your heart grows soft. "You're so dramatic. Well, maybe if you didn't jump into danger every night, I wouldn't have to."

"Fair enough," he says, turning to face you. His eyes have softened now, teasing mood all gone. "Thanks for this. For everything."

You smile and reach up to brush away a strand of wet hair from his forehead. "Don't mention it. That being said, turn your face around; there's still mud on it."

He muttered, "You know, if I weren't in so much pain, this would be kinda romantic."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Peter Parker."

Peter is now cleaned, bandaged, and dressed up. Sprawled on the couch, looking much more like himself. He grabs your hand as you pass by and tugs you down beside him.

"You are amazing," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"And you are exhausting," you reply, but you cannot hide your smile.

"Perfect match," he quips, pulling you into his arms.

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer, because you would trade this chaos for nothing.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

'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.”

[day1dream]

tasm!Peter Parker as your boyfriend

(Tobey!Spiderman version)

[amorchai]

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): husband!andrew garfield x reader

words: 521

warnings/tags: established relationship, insecurity + anxiety.

andrew had noticed your agitated state the entire night, sitting beside him at the awards show and gazing towards any celebrity that passed. he kept his hand on your thigh, thumb swiping the material of your outfit as he allowed the night to pass and question you once you got home.

he waited in bed, having gotten ready first and playing the television from across the bed on a low volume, listening to your movement around the bathroom, door open and allowing him to catch glimpses of your moving frame as you work on your skincare.

andrew sighs to himself while his thoughts run at a million beats per minute, he didn’t like to see you so quiet without knowing what’s wrong. and his excitement when you shut the bathroom door behind you, walking towards the bed, quickly drops when you tuck yourself beneath the duvet and turn away to face the wall.

“goodnight,” is all you murmur to him as an indication for him to turn off his beside lamp.

however, once he does, he turns over to cautiously wrap his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest in a need for your proximity. andrew feels your hand fall atop his arm wrapped around your waist, coaxing him to keep it there but not saying anything.

“i don’t know what i did wrong, but whatever it is, i’m sorry, okay?”.

you turn in his arms, able to see his face in the early night moonlight cascading his features, as pretty as always. “you didn’t do anything wrong, baby.” andrew feels a sense of relief, knowing that you weren’t annoyed at him, but still wanting to know what’s made you so disconnected.

lifting his arm, his fingers gently graze your cheekbones while he whispers towards you, gentle in the pre-midnight air, “you can talk to me, you know?”. his head nudges forward to connect your foreheads, nose nudging yours to comfortably situate his face as close as possible, eyes closing.

“it’s just— those girls, andrew. all those celebrities—” you cut yourself off, unsure of how you sound and hoping he could drop it.

but it’s andrew, and he’s too caring for his own good sometimes.

“what about them, baby?” he murmurs, leaning further into your face, breath fanning your lips as his tone sounded deep and trusting. when you don’t reply he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, long and sweet to try and calm you down.

“you know, you were the prettiest one in the whole room?”

andrew knew you too well, and from a few words he was able to figure out the cause of your absent-focus, murmuring sweet lines against your lips to try and convince you of your beauty, of how much you matter to him.

“i swear, the best award i won tonight was the one i already entered the building with, okay? nothing to worry about, you matter the most to me.” andrew holds your face, so assuring and kind as he presses more kisses, this time around the expanse of your face before landing once more against your lips.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[heartsandstars46]

Cooking dinner with Peter after a long day? 🩵

tysm for the prompt, my dear! 🩷🩷 Just a cute lil blurb with comfort and flirty banter.

Tasm!Peter x gf reader

Fluff, comfort, humor

Word count: ~950

You kicked your foot against the kitchen table leg, as if that would help you swallow down your tears before Peter got home. There was no need to be so upset—everybody has bad days at work. Why did you always get like this? Ughhh, it was so frustrating.

You jumped when you heard Peter unlocking the door. He’d texted that he was on his way home, but the sound was jarring in the silence of the kitchen.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” you replied, trying to sound remotely normal. You could hear him putting his stuff down in the hallway. You tried to avoid eye contact when he stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey, did you eat yet?”

“No,” you said softly. A tear dropped from your cheek onto the back of your hand. You hoped Peter didn’t notice, but his damn heightened senses betrayed you as usual. 

“Aww, honey….” You could hear him walk around the table, and when you felt him wrap his arms around you, the dam burst. You brought your hands up to cover your face, as if that would stop the tears. 

“Hey, hey.”

Peter came around and sat in one of the other chairs facing you. He took your tear-streaked hands in his and held them. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just had a bad day at work.”

“That’s allowed, sweetheart. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “No.”

“No?” Peter sounded amused.

“No. Because the tears will swallow me up if I let them, and nobody wants to be around that.” You cleared your throat, staring at your hands in his lap. “Okay, I don’t want to be around that. I hate that feeling spreading through my chest. I can feel it coming, but I’m helpless—like when you’re about to throw up, you know?” You sighed, dabbing at your eyes with a napkin. “God! I need to, like, take a lap or hide in a closet somewhere.”

“Okay, so we’ll hide in a closet together.” He said it so matter-of-factly, so casually, that it almost made you cry harder. “You know I’m always up for that. Or I can take you to my favorite hiding place. From the top of the Empire State Building, everything is teeny tiny—even big feelings. Well… sometimes. It’s not an exact science. As much as I’d like it to be.” He shook his head slightly. “Okay, now I’m just rambling.”

“It’s fine, at least it’s a break from me being annoying.”

“You’re not being annoying.”

You felt like he had to be lying to you. “Well, I’m annoying myself!” 

Peter leaned forward and touched his forehead to yours. “It’s okay. You don’t give up on me when I’ve got tunnel vision about Spider-Man stuff and won’t leave May’s basement.”

“How would you know? You lock the door and won’t let me in!”

“Because I don’t want to expose you to, like, exploding batteries and fire! Geez, sorry for being such a jackass!”

You couldn’t not laugh. He was smiling at you and squeezed your hands. You really appreciated his knack for bringing humor into stressful situations.

“Look. I know I won’t be able to convince you of anything positive about yourself right now, and I know I’d be the same way if the roles were reversed, so I’m just going to say, I love you, and I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Thanks.” You sighed as he kissed your forehead. “Uh, but what exactly are you planning to cook? I haven’t even been grocery shopping this week. Just a failure all around.”

And yet Peter continued rummaging through your cabinets.

“Aha! I knew I stashed something back here just in case.”

“‘In case’ of what? What the heck are you talking about?”

“Ta-da!” He produced a box of macaroni and cheese. “You can never be too prepared.”

“Wow, you’re the friendly neighborhood Boy Scout.”

���Hey, Spider-Man can be prepared too, okay? The Boy Scouts don’t have a trademark on it.”

You smiled. “I’m not going to mention all the times you’ve had to come back because you left without something mildly important—like your web shooters, for instance.” You gave him a look. 

He pointed a large wooden spoon at you. “That’s your sadness talking, and I’m not going to engage with that negativity. How do you feel about mac and cheese?”

“I feel like it’s all we have.”

“Excellent. I’m excited about it too.” (You snickered, rolling your eyes.) “Now why can’t I find the pasta pot?”

You got up and retrieved it from a closed cabinet. “Spidey senses not tingling?” You couldn’t help but smirk in his face.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You know, I was going to cook for you, but for that sass, now you’re gonna be my sous chef. I’m putting you to work.” He pointed to the sink. “Fill ‘er up!”

“I don’t know if mac and cheese really counts as cooking...” you muttered, setting the pot in the sink and letting it fill with water. When you saw his face, though, you changed course through giggles. “Just kidding! It’s totally cooking, and you’re, like, a chef’s hat away from being in a five-star restaurant.”

A web shot out and pulled you to him. You shrieked with surprise as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Didn’t forget my web shooters today, now did I?” He grinned and kissed you. He then gently brushed away the remnants of your tears. “You seem to be feeling a little better.”

He was right. “Yeah, my jackass boyfriend has been a big help.” You managed to keep a straight face just long enough before dissolving into giggles.

[cruel-seduction]

You need a massage? (Friends to something else)

You were cross-legged on your bed, laptop balanced on your thighs, trying—and failing—to ignore the dull ache settling deep in your shoulders. Hours of hunching over your desk had left you stiff and sore, your muscles tight in a way that made you shift uncomfortably every few minutes. With a frustrated sigh, you reached up to rub the back of your neck, fingers digging in where the tension was worst.

From where he was lounging against your headboard, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, Peter glanced over.

"You good?" His voice was casual, but there was something soft beneath it, the kind of quiet concern he never really tried to hide.

You exhaled through your nose. "Just tense. My back’s killing me."

There was a pause. Just long enough for you to look up and catch him hesitating, his phone slipping from his hands as he considered something.

Then, a little unsure, he said, "I could—uh—give you a massage?"

Your fingers stilled against your neck. You blinked at him. Then scoffed. "Since when do you give massages?"

Peter shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. "Super strength. Good hands. What more do you need?"

Your stomach did this weird little flip—one you definitely ignored. Because, well. He wasn’t wrong. The thought of Peter’s hands on you, warm and firm, pressing into all the places that ached… Yeah, that was dangerous. And completely unnecessary.

So, obviously, you played it off. Kept it casual. "Alright," you said, shifting so your back was to him. "Just—don’t break me."

You expected him to be awkward about it. Maybe throw in a joke, squeeze your shoulders once, and call it a day.

What you didn’t expect was for his hands to land on you with just the right amount of pressure—strong, steady, like he actually knew what he was doing. His thumbs pressed into the knots at the base of your neck, and the effect was immediate. A deep, full-body shudder ran through you before you could stop it, your head tipping forward as his fingers dug in, slow and deliberate.

"Jesus, Pete," you muttered, your voice embarrassingly weak.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "That good?"

You just hummed, too busy melting under his touch to form a real answer. His hands worked their way down, easing the tension out of your shoulders, then lower, following the curve of your spine. It was… methodical. Almost too good. Like he was paying attention to every spot that made you relax just a little more, every knot that made you exhale a little deeper.

And that was when you became hyperaware. Of the warmth of his breath near your ear. Of the way his thighs shifted behind you.

Of how close he really was.

It was just a massage.

That’s what you told yourself.

But then his hands slid lower.

Not in a way that felt intentional—Peter wasn’t like that. But when his fingers pressed into the dip of your lower back, something in your stomach clenched. And maybe it was the way your breath caught just slightly. Maybe it was the way his fingers lingered for a second too long.

Or maybe it was the fact that when you leaned back—just a little, just instinct—you felt it.

The unmistakable press of something hard against your lower back.

Your body locked up.

Peter went rigid behind you.

For one long, charged second, neither of you moved.

Then, just as you were about to laugh—pretend you hadn’t noticed—he shifted. Just barely. Just enough for you to feel him again.

A sharp, breathless noise slipped out of you before you could stop it.

Peter’s hands twitched against your waist. His breath, warm against your shoulder, stuttered.

"You—" His voice came rough, strained. He cleared his throat. "You okay?"

You swallowed, turned your head slightly—just enough that your lips nearly brushed his jaw. "Are you?"

His grip on you tightened. Like he was debating pulling away. Like he was fighting against whatever was hanging thick in the air between you.

But then—slow, hesitant—his fingers flexed again. This time, they brushed just under the hem of your shirt. Testing.

Your breath hitched.

And just like that, something shifted.

No longer innocent. No longer just a massage.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned, straddling his lap in one fluid motion, your thighs bracketing his. Peter swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your parted lips and the heat in your gaze.

Waiting.

Letting you decide.

You did.

You kissed him—soft at first, then hungrier, more desperate. He met you halfway, groaning into your mouth as his hands slid beneath your shirt, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You shifted against him, your hips rolling—just a little, just enough to feel the hard, heavy length of him through his sweats.

His breath caught.

"Fuck," he muttered, his head dropping against your shoulder. His fingers pressed hard into your sides, like he was barely holding himself together. "You—" He exhaled sharply. "You can’t just do that."

"Do what?" you asked, all fake innocence, even as you did it again.

He let out a strangled noise, his hands tightening on your waist. "That."

You grinned, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his jaw. "You sure you wanna keep massaging me?"

His grip on you tightened.

Then, before you could blink, he flipped you onto your back, caging you beneath him. His lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm, uneven.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," he murmured, voice thick, dark, promising.

A shiver ran down your spine. "What do you have in mind?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk.

"Guess you’ll find out."

[heylolita00]

[stellatekintsugi]

Andrew Garfield

[yeollie-plz]

Hello! I'm a new follower and I love you're writing! I was wondering if you could do a fiction of Andrew Garfield x reader? I'll leave the scenario up to you :)

Not Exactly As Planned

Andrew Garfield x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Andrew has been acting suspicious lately and you've all but convinced yourself that he's cheating.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurities, Y/N insert

Gif credits to owners!

"I'm telling you, Andrew has been acting strangely lately." Your best friend raised her eyes at you in an accusatory gesture. "Stranger than usual..." You trailed off, returning her look with an annoyance laced one of your own.

"I'm just nervous...you know?" You let your eyes wander to the cup sat in front of you. It's once sugary taste now bitter to you with the revelation of your confession.

Your best friend sat her own cup down, "So what? You think he's lying to you? Cheating on you?"

"I don't know, but its hard not to rush to the worst conclusion."

"Blah, blah, blah, you have trust issues. I know! But trust me that man would rather sit on a hot iron before ever hurting you!"

You rolled your eyes, "You're right..."

"Yeah, I know I'm right. Now finish your drink so we can go, the guy I went on a date with last weekend is right there." She rushed from her seat and dragged you up with her. You struggled to finish the sip you were taking as she jostled you up to your feet.

As you two walked away, you spoke up again. "'Sit on a hot iron?'" You turned to her so you could read her expression.

"Hey! I never said I was good at metaphors. Only relationship advice!"

"If only you could apply your advice to your own love life." You said pointedly.

"Hey!"

Later that night, you were sat on your couch watching tv, alone. Andrew had yet to come home. You were worried of course, but that worry soon warped itself into a different kind of worry. You were once again worried about your relationship.

Although your friend had attempted to help you push away those negative thoughts, they began to creep in once again. Then crept in the insecurities. And now you were no longer focused on what was playing on the television.

It wouldn't hurt if you just snooped around a bit, would it? I mean it was your apartment too. A quick peak wouldn't do any harm, you concluded, and lifted yourself from the couch.

Moving towards your bedroom, your heart began to beat faster. Not sure if you would find something or get caught. But you pushed the fear aside and walked to Andrew's nightstand.

You pulled out the top drawer, seeing only a few pictures, a book, and some other random items. Pulling out the bottom drawer, you lifted up a few papers to peak further in. Only to find nothing but more papers. One day he'd have to organize all of this, you shook your head, and lifted yourself back up to your feet.

You sighed, now you had to face the closet. You had a feeling you'd find nothing in the nightstand, but somehow knew the closet would be a different story.

You began to shuffle through his side of the closet. Moving things aside to get a better look. You even dug through his dirty to clothes to look for marks on his shirts or receipts in his pockets. Nothing!

You were about to give up when a box at the very top of the shelves caught your eye. Tilting your head, you had never noticed this box before. You decided that must have something in it.

So, you grabbed a chair from the kitchen, dragging it into the closet behind you. Pushing yourself onto it, you reached up to grab the box. You were just about to have it fully in a safe hold when Andrew walked into the doorway and startled you by asking what you were doing. Somewhere between you dragging the chair across the apartment and you dangerously balancing on top of it, Andrew had come home and heard you.

You jumped slightly, letting the box fall from your hands and almost falling off the chair. Andrew caught you by the waist and helped you stabilize yourself.

He laughed at your clumsiness, "What are you doing?" You looked around trying to find an excuse, he followed your frantic movements. Both of your eyes then landed on a small black box. He met your confused look with his scared one.

"This is not how this was supposed to happen." He concluded suddenly.

"What?" You were confused as you looked at the little box again. Oh. My. God. That was a ring box!

"Well I guess, since I probably can no longer surprise you with it." He moved to pick up the box, getting down to one knee. "Y/N, I love you so much. You are my soulmate. And this isn't exactly how I wanted to do this but in a way this is very us. So, Y/N will you be mine forever? Will you marry me?"

You nodded your head quickly, squeaking out a yes. He stood and pulled you into a hug. Tears began to fall from your eyes as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I had this whole thing planned, I was going to take you to dinner. Walk along the river, to this beautiful candle lit stage." He hummed in thought.

"I thought you were cheating on me." You admitted.

"What?" He pulled away in shock, trying to read your eyes.

"Well, you were being suspicious and sneaking around and I just thought the worse. That's why I was snooping around."

"Oh goodness, love, I never meant to make you feel like that. I just really wanted to make it special for you." You shook your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek.

"It's okay, I'm kind of in a just got engaged high now. Nothing can bring me down." Suddenly you pushed out of his arms and ran out of the closet.

Andrew called after you, "Where are you going?"

"To tell everyone!"

[alonetimelover]

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

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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!

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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)

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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?

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andrewandyn

liked by ynupdates, andrewgarfieldupdates and 25 302 others

andrewandyn YN AND ANDREW behind the stage of their Oscar's announcing duty!!!

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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

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andrewgarfieldupdates

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andrewgarfieldupdates ANDREW AND YN SPOTTED IN LONDON !!! SHE'S PREGNANT, YOU GUYS

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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

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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!

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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

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andrewgarfieldupdates

liked by ynupdates, andrewspiderman and 12 201 others

andrewgarfieldupdates ANDREW walking to the hospital today's morning!

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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?

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ynupdates

liked by andrewgarfieldupdates and 15 502 others

ynupdates YN VIA HER IG STORIES!!!

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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!

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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.

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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

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a/n: I neglected my promise on making a fic for Andrew, so sorry. but i hope the wait was worth it??