#andrew garfield x female!reader
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jjsmaybank20 · 2 years ago
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could you do andrew garfield x reader that you got invite to your friend wedding, lots of people coming, you bump into someone, you apologize, he just want to tell reader that he could sit with you in church, after that you two talk in reception, he was glad to have someone like reader
(hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)
Happy Little Accident
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Andrew Garfield x GN!Reader (Platonic)
Summary: You remenice on your friendship with the wonderful Andrew Garfield.
Warnings: Reader wears suits, referred to once as man
Word Count: 958
A/N: For this, just pretend that Jesse Eisenberg got married in 2010. Also, italics are memories.
navigation  celebrities (platonic) masterlist
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Usually you weren’t a fan of interviews. But this one was more fun than the rest. Not only were you being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon, who always made interviews fun, but your best friend, Andrew Garfield, was getting interviewed with you.
You were in your dressing room when a stage hand came in and told you that you were on stage in 5 minutes. You walk to the side before going out when Jimmy calls your name.
Waving, you walk on stage and shake hands with the man. Then, Jimmy calls out Andrew. You stand up so you can give the man a hug. 
Once you are both settled in, and the crowd has settled down, Jimmy starts. “Y/N, dashing as always. You’re rocking your suit better than Andrew is!” 
You laugh at that before replying, “Always have, always will.” Andrew slaps your arm in retaliation. 
“So! First off, we know you guys are in your 7th movie together! Holy cow! This one is a little film called Spiderman: No Way Home. Now I have to ask, how long have you guys known each other?” 
You huff and go to reply before Andrew sighs and says, “Wow. It’s been a while now, hasn’t it. We met in 2010, so…” You answer at his pause.
“We’ve been friends for about 14 years now. Damn, we’re old.” Andrew nods while grinning.
“So how did you two meet? Because you weren’t in The Social Network, were you? That came out in 2010.” Jimmy asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.
You thought back to when you first met your now best friend. 
14 years ago…
You normally weren’t this clumsy, but this wedding was absolutely packed. While you walk backwards, you apologize to the person who you had just bumped into. 
Just as you turn around, you bump into a very tall, lanky man. He starts to fall, but you quickly reach out to grab him. 
“Thank you so much. I would be so embarrassed if I fell on my arse in front of all of these people.” The man says in a clipped British accent. “I’m Andrew.” 
“I am so sorry for bumping into you! I’m Y/N. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?” You realize you are still holding onto his arm. You let go, before extending your hand for a handshake. 
He grins at you before reciprocating. “I might just take you up on that offer. Also, so sorry, but could I sit with you? I honestly don’t know anyone here except for the groom.” 
You nod and smile at him, noting the relief on his face. “How do you know Jesse?” You inquire.
“Well, I’m an actor. We did The Social Network together, and got pretty close on set. He invited me, and I think he forgot that he’s the only one I know here.”
You laugh before stating, “Yeah, that sounds like Jesse. Well now you also know me. C’mon, let's go find our seats so Jesse’s Grandmother doesn’t pick on me wearing a suit like she always does.” 
He chuckles at that before following you into the church. 
---
After the ceremony, you walk with Andrew to the reception, getting to know each other better. You tell him that you also act, and have been in a few movies. 
He asks if that’s how you know Jesse, but you tell him that you actually have known each other since you guys were children. 
You sit down at the bar and start telling Andrew embarrassing stories about Jesse from when you guys were kids. Suddenly, you feel someone practically pounce on your back. 
“There he is! Man of the hour! Congratulations, dude.” You say while clapping your childhood friend on the back. 
He exhales before excitedly saying, “I’m married, Y/L/N! This is crazy.” Then he notices Andrew seated next to you. “Ah! I’m glad you met Andrew. So sorry, Garfield, I forgot that I’m probably the only person you know here.”
You and Andrew share a look before bursting out laughing. That’s exactly what you knew he would say. Jesse looks at you two, super confused. “What? What’d I say?” You shake your head, muttering “nothing”, wiping tears from your eyes.
Jesse shakes his head in amusement before wandering off to greet his other guests. When you and Andrew finally calm down, you go back to talking about your lives. Losing track of time, you guys talk for hours, truly cementing your friendship when you exchange numbers.
---
“So you guys are friends because Y/N Y/L/N knocked Andrew Garfield over, and because Jesse Eisenberg forgot that Andrew didn’t know anyone at his wedding?” Jimmy asks incredulously.
You nod, realizing how stupid the story of how you met was. “We truly became friends when we had one of those talks that went really deep. Like we were talking about our traumas and shit.” You realize you cursed and quickly cover your mouth.
Andrew laughs at you before looking at you softly. “I’m really glad I met you though. I don’t know what I would do without you. I would definitely have not made it this far.”
The audience awws and you smile at the man next to you. “Man, you can’t make me cry on TV. I have an image to uphold. But seriously, same man. I wouldn’t have made it through the pandemic without you. I love you, dude.”
“I love you too, man.” Glancing out at the audience, you realize that without the man next to you who you consider more a brother than a friend, there would be no way that you would be where you are today. 
You couldn’t be happier that you knocked Andrew over, because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had this beautiful 14-year friendship.
---
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backtothefanfiction · 1 year ago
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Professor Peter Parker
Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!
Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!
Word Count: 4.9k+
A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.
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First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.
You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.
You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 
You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 
You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.
‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.
You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-
“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.
SHIT!
DOUBLE SHIT!
You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!
You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?
“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.
You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’
8 HOURS EARLIER 
“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.
“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”
He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.
“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 
He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.
The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”
You frown. “Why Flower?” 
“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”
“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.
“Okay, then what can I call you?”
You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”
He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”
You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”
He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 
You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”
An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.
You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.
“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 
“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.
Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.
“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.
His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.
You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.
He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.
You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.
You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.
You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”
You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 
His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.
His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 
He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 
He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”
You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.
When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.
“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 
Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.
His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 
His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 
“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.
“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.
“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.
“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 
He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.
His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.
“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.
“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 
You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 
It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 
He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 
You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”
His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.
You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 
“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”
It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.
“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 
With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.
He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.
You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.
The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.
“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.
“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”
You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.
He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”
You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.
“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.
You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?
________________________-
@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida
Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.
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lqveharrington · 5 days ago
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Golden Snitch | R.L.
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summary: you convince remus to dress up together and everyone LOVES the costumes
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
includes: underage drinking, cursing, kissing, Sirius and reader behaving like siblings, overall fluff
a/n: poll is releasing tmr to vote for this or the draco one!
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Although Remus wasn’t big on dressing up for Halloween, you absolutely adored it. Since your childhood, you always looked forward to the holiday and the tacky outfits from the spirit store down the street. Since Remus’ childhood, the holiday only reminded him that everyone found werewolves terrifying as death itself.
But you made sure to change all his horrid memories to good ones the second you met.
Over the years, you slowly coaxed Remus into dressing up and having fun on Halloween, especially when his best friends threw the Gryffindor party every year. When you began dating, the costumes you made him wear became couple costumes. Some of your favorites being Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, and The Great Gatsby.
This year — your final year at Hogwarts — you wanted to wear something that would be talked about for years. You wanted something so spectacular that it would be remembered. Luckily, you had just the couples costume in mind.
“Remind me again, why do you need a quidditch uniform?” James threw a curious look to Remus who was currently reading Little Women, a book you made him read for entertainment purposes. “If you’re telling me you’re joining the quidditch team during your last year, I’ll go bloody mad.”
“I’m not.” Remus flicked the page and sipped on his tea beside him, glancing at James from the corner of his eye. “Just need to borrow one.”
Remus, James, and Sirius have gone through this dance about ten times. Each one ending in the talk of the latest play before James sobered up and asked about the uniform again. It was a never ending cycle of bickering.
Sirius threw a crumpled piece of plastic at Remus’ head as the painting opened up, earning a loud sigh from the boy himself. “Yeah, but why do you need to borrow one?”
“Don’t throw stuff at Remus, Black.” You huff and make your way over to the trio, flashing your loving boyfriend a smile as his hand made their way to your hip. “What did they do this time?”
“Why are you assuming we did something?”
“Yeah, we’re saints!” Sirius dropped down on the couch beside Remus, sending you an oh-so innocent smile.
You roll your eyes at him and flash him your favorite finger, “Says the devil himself.”
“Hey—!”
“They were asking why I needed a quidditch uniform.” Remus cut Sirius off before you two could argue for the nth time.
It was like you two were always fighting over him — which he had to admit — was funny to see unfold each time. Remus laced his other hand with yours and returned your attention back to him, thumb rubbing your pulse point.
“How’s your thing going?” He murmured when you sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, shifting his body to block Sirius from your sight.
You shrug, “Lily and I have been working on it. We’ll be done even before the holiday.”
“You two are so ominous, I don’t like it.” James shuddered, which earned a glare from you and an eye roll from Remus. “What? It’s obvious you two are planning something and not telling us.”
“Okay, well, I’m done with this conversation.” You sighed and pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ lips, looking like the love sick fool that you were. “I love you, and I’ll see you in a bit.”
You made quick steps up the girls’ dorm after Remus reciprocated the notion and left the three boys back to their dwelling.
“Why does she hate us and love you?” Sirius grumbled and popped a jelly bean into his mouth, grimacing at the flavor and spitting it out.
“Maybe because she’s dating him and not us?” James threw him an annoyed look.
Remus blocked out their bickering and went back to reading. He loved you and you loved him, and that’s all he needed to know. Besides, it was the boys who practically begged him to ask you out since first year. They knew he was smitten with you the second you both met on the train.
Eventually, James did lend Remus an unused quidditch uniform while you and Lily finished your costume for Halloween. The only thing left to do was perfect the actual look and win the couples contest.
“Hell, are you dressing up as one of our quidditch players for Halloween?” Sirius raised his brows in surprise as Remus shuffled out of the bathroom with said uniform on. “Which Gryffindor did you dress up as?”
“No one.” Remus replied in a bored manner and adjusted the leather gloves he had on. “I’m just a quidditch player.”
“Uh-huh. So you definitely didn’t dress as Prongs or I?”
“No.”
Sirius gave him an unimpressed look and shrugged on his vest for his Indiana Jones costume. “Whatever you say… Anyway, Prongs and the rest of them are already down there and I’m not waiting for you any longer if you’re going to gel your hair back.”
“Yeah, I’m going.” He grumbled and adjusted his uniform before following Sirius down the stairs and into the ongoing Halloween party.
The red lights flickered about as the music practically shook the entire room. Remus scanned the vicinity for you, struggling until Sirius almost dropped dead at the sight of you. It was the same reaction everyone had to seeing you dressed in… That.
“Holy fuck. Your girlfriend is wearing the shortest dress in existence.” Sirius gaped and earned a smack to the head from Remus.
Remus watched you dance and jump with Lily, eyes shining bright with joy when they met his. You beamed so bright and almost elbowed everyone in your way to make it to him. He caught you in his arms as you kissed him senseless, hands coming to rest on his cheeks.
“Hey, dovey.” He finally spoke when you both parted for air, thumbing your jaw softly. “You look absolutely stunning in gold.”
“Of course, I do, Rem! I’m a Gryffindor!” You laugh and eyes his outfit like he was a three course meal. “It’s interesting seeing you dressed in quidditch robes for the first time.”
“Yeah?” He continued to thumb your jaw in a doting manner. “Well if I did play, I plan on you being the snitch every game. I wouldn’t play otherwise.”
You tilt your head and meet his eyes with so much love. Now that you and Remus were standing together, your costumes made so much sense. It wasn’t just a quidditch player and a golden fairy, it was a seeker and the golden snitch. Sirius looked between the both of you before gasping and clapping his hands in realization, those around you looking over as well.
“Aren’t you two the cutest pair!” He gushed and pinched Remus’ cheek at the revelation.
Smacking Sirius’ hand away, you rested your chin on Remus’s shoulder to prevent him from doing such thing again. Remus laughed at you two and rubbed your back.
“You know, Marlene is looking for you, Siri.” You practically shout over the loud music.
“Is she?” He perked up at the mention of the girl he had been talking to recently. “Well then… I will catch up with you two later.”
You waited a little longer before laughing loudly at your own doing. Was Marlene really looking for him? No, but Sirius was always there whenever you wanted to be alone with Remus. Before you could stop laughing, Remus swatted your ass playfully in response to the poor prank.
“Hey—!” You pout jokingly, laughing again when Remus shook his head at you with an upturned smile.
As the night carried on, the crowd grew bigger, the music louder, and the drinks more alcoholic. It got to the point where you and Remus were too drunk to be the responsible ones in the group. Oddly enough, you both drank more than anyone else in the group.
However, you both won the couples costume contest and — for some reason no one could explain the next day — you decided to give a speech to the mass of Gryffindors in the common room about winning the contest. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but it was your last year.
Clambering on top of the wooden tables, you stumbled over your own legs as Remus tried to stabilize you. Lily, who was the responsible one for the night, rubbed her forehead in exasperation. She didn’t want to necessarily stop you. You were a whiny drunk, and it would be impossible to stop you from something you wanted to do.
“Wait wait — hiccup — I would like to thank the committee,” You hold your red cup close to your chest, your cheeks almost as bright as the cup. “Lily Evans — hiccup — the quidditch team, and my ever so loving boyfriend — hiccup — for making this all possible!” You throw your arms in the air, earning cheers from the crowd.
“What committee?” Sirius looked at Lily with a confused look, pointing between him and James. “Us?”
She shrugged and watched you jump down from the table, snickering when Remus nearly had a heart attack from your way of getting down. She made sure you both were okay before returning to James’ side, pointing you both out to him.
“You’re gonna be the — hiccup — death of me.” Remus tucked his head in between your neck and shoulder, nudging his nose on your exposed skin. “Don’t do that.”
“M’sorry.” You giggle and stumble slightly at the weight being put on you. “You baby.”
He kissed your cheek, “No.”
“Yeah.”
“No.” He dragged you over to the dormitory stairs. “Hi.”
You giggle and trace the scars on his face, “Hey.”
“You’re cute.” He melted into your hands and pecked your palm. “Really really cute.”
“You wanna know a secret, Rem?” You murmur and hiccup when he tugged you impossibly closer. “I promise it’s really cool.”
“What is it?” He pressed kisses everywhere he could, putting more attention to your lips.
“I love you.” You whisper against his lips and fully kiss him, the taste of firewhisky strong. “So much.”
He smiled into the kiss and parted briefly, thumbing your lip. “You want to know my secret, dovey?”
“What?” You look up and meet the hazel eyes you’ve come to love.
“I love you more.”
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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thefearedashantis · 18 days ago
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Use Your Words
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter isn’t listening
Warning: None
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'Do you still love me?'
The question clangs painfully against the back of your clenched teeth when Peter mumbles ‘mhmm?’ for the fifth time throughout your story. The sudden urge to question his affections almost unbearable as you stand off to the side of his desk, still sweaty and in your outside shoes having been in a rush to tell him about your day. Heart leaping with joy over the compliment you’d received from a classmate in your poetry workshop.
“And then he bent me over and fucked me on the profs desk while everyone watched”
“Mhmm”
At least Ned and MJ were listening where they lounged about the room, albeit rosy in the cheeks. They encourage you to continue as if any of this could be remotely true.
“In fact, he asked me when we’d be able to make sweet love again.”
“Mhmm”
“Figured I could pencil a date in for next week seeing as I’ll probably be single by then”
“Yeah? That’s great junebug.”
Peter has not once lifted his gaze away from his laptop. The light of the screen reflecting off his glasses, casting a soft blue haze over his features.
Your two friends sensing the oncoming argument scuttle off silently to the kitchen with the excuse of wanting snacks.
“Petey?”
“Yes my love?”
“You know, if you want to break up all you have to do is say so.”
“Mhmm.”
You’re halfway to the door when his brows pinch inward. Shaking his head quickly, Peter struggles to rewind the conversation in between a slew of agonizingly complicated equations. His brain chugging along much slower than he’d like, than he's used to.
“Wait what?”
“I think I'll head home for the day, see you later," you mumble. You had some lectures to catch up with anyway.
He finally breaks away from the device, lowering the lid slightly “Wait bug what did you say?"
“Nothing.”
“No, you said something. Repeat it for me"
“I shouldn’t have to repeat it. You should have heard it the first time.” You spit over your shoulder, reaching for the doorknob.
Peters up, trailing behind you on long legs “Now hold on a minute, that's not fair.”
“And I wouldn’t be so bothered if this was a once in a while thing, but it's becoming an everytime thing! I come back after a good day or even a bad one, and I try telling you about it, and you sit there more focused on the performance of listening than actually listening." And what a performance it was. Leaning in, nodding with the occasional smile or eye contact or frown or gasp or laugh. All without actually having heard a word you said.
You listened to any and everything he had to share with enthusiasm and even questions to follow.
“That’s not true! I was listening.”
You cross your arms over your chest with a sceptical tic in your jaw “Ok, then what did my classmate say about my poetry?”
Peter stops in his tracks “um”
“quickly.”
“He said it was lovely?” You had used the word lovely in your story, but the questioning pitch of his voice has you fleeing all the same. He didn't know for sure if that was what you said.
Your fingers have just wrapped around the cool metal of the knob when all of a sudden your wrist is pinned to the door by a sticky white substance. A beat of silence resonates through the room before you're whirling on your boyfriend with twice as much annoyance as before.
“You did not just web me!” You yell
“Everything's happening too fast!” Peter wails, arm still extended from trapping you, pupils wide.
“Well allow me to excuse myself while the boy genius catches up,” you say, going for your keys. You'd use them to saw your way free, no matter how long it took. But as soon as you wiggle them free from your pocket, another web shoots out and sticks your free arm to the other side of the door. The keys clank uselessly to the ground. “Stop doing that!”
“Stop trying to leave!”
“If I don’t go now ill be late for my date with someone who actually cares about what I have to say!”
“I do care about what you have to say!" The wet rasp of his confession immediately extinguishs your anger. With a predatory focus, you hone in on the abrupt glossy sheen of his eyes, the rosy tint creeping up his neck. The way he starts to shift his weight from foot to foot, rubbing his plams against the abrasive material of his jeans. His lips tremble, pale with the force of his trying to keep them still. "I-" He chokes. Stops. Gaze snapping up to the ceiling before running to you. Working his jaw back and forth as if the words are fighting him, refusing to be spoken, "I've just been really fumbling with the whole juggling school and spidermanning lately.”
The sentence seems to zap what little energy he has. He stumbles in what you assume to be relief, to sit down on his bed. Removing his glasses, he tosses them without care, pressing his knuckles into his eyes and scrubbing at them cruely “…’m tired”
You watch in silence as Peter closes in on himself. He uses his hands to muffle his sniffles, but in doing so, allows a few salty drops to escape and slip along the slope of his nose. Falling from the tip, a row of tiny dark splots begins to form on his shirt. His tears only drip faster as the minutes tick by. His chest stuttering erratically with the task of inhaling and exhaling.
It makes you feel shitty but you don't try to comfort him.
You remain still and quiet as to not disturb the moment in fear that if Peter remembers you're there, he'll attempt to compose himself when all he really needs is to let it out.
When he's cried himself dry, you probe lightly “are you eyes hurting you again?”
He doesn't raise his head. You're faced with knots and tangles of brown “mhmm.”
“words please parker.”
“So much” he gasps, seemingly renewed with sorrow.
This is the boy, you realize, the one Aunt May has told you about amongst the shadows and hush of night. When you sleep over on weekends and wake up longing for a cold glass of water, slipping from bed a little while before dawn only to find her already up, never having actually gone to bed.
The boy who tries to shield his gentle soul behind humour and smarts. Who often takes on much more than he can handle to satisfy others, and is content to crush himself beneath the weight of responsibility if only to let one more person rest easy that day. The one who yearns to please above all else.
Peter often suffers from aches and pains, comes with the territory, but his facial discomfort has been a persistent problem of late. A deep soreness in his cheekbones, temples, behind his eyes, that no pain killer seemed to relieve.
“temple massage?”
“Please?”
With a final sniffle, Peters back on his feet. Swaying over, he makes quick work of freeing you. Pressing shy kisses of apology to your wrists.
No longer having it in you to be upset, you swat him back towards the bed, getting comfortable in your usual postions. Your back propped up on the pillows, Peter sprawled across your lap, face plastered against your tummy. His arms loop around your thighs, fingers playing with the stiching on your pants.
Retrieving the oil and comb from his sidetable, you set to work untangling his hair before you get to the real job of massaging his scalp and temples. A repetitive activity that allows you both time to think about what you've been truly wanting to say.
“You make me feel so invisible sometimes." You start. Peters' hair is soft despite being so uncared for. You comb back his bangs, cupping his face gently and shifting it to look up at you "like it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. I know you're a busy person, and i accept and love that part of you. But all i ask is five minutes where we act like I'm not some annoyance.”
Insecurity was something you'd fought tooth and nail to rid yourself of over the course of your relationship. Not only a genius but a superhero , being interested in a mere arts major certainly took a toll on the psyche. Sometimes, you caught yourself slipping back into not so nice thoughts and behaviours.
A flash of hurt strikes across Peters face. When he speaks, warmth puffs under the hem of your shirt “I’m sorry. I'm not doing it on purpose. I love having you around and hearing about your day. It's the most relaxing part of my own."
“That’s why you need to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed so I can support you in the way you need. I never want you to feel like that.” Like there's nobody in his corner paying attention to his needs.
You accept the apology and continue with your work of destressing your boyfriend. His eyes fall shut after a time and you think he's fallen asleep, familiar with post cry exhaustion when,
“He said you write with patience, giving every word the chance to be what it wants to be” Peter whispers.
“Now, was that before or after he stuck his tongue down my throat?”
“Bug” he groans, springing up. He playfully shoves you back with an exaggerated scowl. You roll to your side, giggling at your own antics. Peter closes in. Slotting a thigh between your legs to lay his body against yours, smothering you with his elevated temperature.
“Trick question! It wasn’t his tongue he stuck down my throat.”
Another howl of disgust rips free from Peter “I hate you!”
“liar!”
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Divider: @sister-lucifer
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belqva · 9 days ago
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— WINTER WONDER ꪆৎ ˚⋅ [remus lupin]
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Remus shows up at your door with a soft, shy smile and his favorite oversized sweater, looking so cozy that you can’t help but grin
The kitchen becomes an instant mess—flour on the counters, chocolate chips spilling everywhere—and neither of you cares one bit
He’s surprisingly meticulous about measuring out the ingredients, even though you can tell he’s a little nervous about getting it right
When you laugh at him for double-checking every step, he just rolls his eyes and says, “I’d rather not ruin our cookies, thank you very much.”
You play a record softly in the background, and he hums along, his voice quiet but warm, adding to the cozy atmosphere
At some point, you catch him sneaking a taste of the cookie dough, and he looks at you with mock guilt, cheeks slightly pink
He makes sure to sprinkle just the right amount of cinnamon “for luck,” a superstitious habit he picked up, he says
You reach over to brush a little flour off his nose, and he blushes, glancing away with a soft smile
The two of you end up bumping elbows a lot, and each time, he mumbles a quiet “sorry, love” that makes your heart melt
When it’s time to put the cookies in the oven, he insists on setting the timer because “precision matters, doesn’t it?”
You take the opportunity to sit on the counter while you wait, swinging your legs and talking about everything and nothing
Remus stands between your legs, his hands resting lightly on your hips as you talk, his gaze soft and attentive
He asks questions about your family, the house, little things—like he wants to know every detail of your life
When the timer goes off, he reluctantly steps away, but not before brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead
The smell of fresh cookies fills the kitchen, and Remus looks delighted, almost childlike, as you pull them from the oven
You both sit on the couch, sharing a plate of warm cookies, sipping tea, and savoring the quiet moment together
Remus wraps a blanket around your shoulders, pulling you closer until you’re nestled into his side
His fingers trace soft circles on your arm, his touch gentle but steady, like he’s telling you he’s right there
He whispers how much he loves little moments like this—how he feels truly at home with you
Just as you’re about to doze off, he kisses the top of your head, murmuring, “I could stay here forever, you know.”
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© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024
SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!
THE PLOT OF OUTER BANKS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, EXCEPT FOR THE ONES CREATED BY ME, DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!
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lokilaufeysonslove · 4 months ago
Text
𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐦!𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
// Summary // when Peter saves you from a dangerous situation, your adrenaline-fueled emotions lead to both, sad and a passionate moment.
// Warnings // kidnapping, trapping, kissing?
// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @buckypascal
MASTERLIST
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You were in trouble. The kind of trouble that makes your heart race and your palms sweat. It was a dangerous situation that you never thought you'd find yourself in.
You were trapped, your heart racing as you struggled against the ropes that bound your hands and feet. The masked man stood before you, a sadistic smile on his face as he taunted you.
"Looks like your superhero boyfriend isn't coming to save you this time," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
But just as you were about to give up hope, the door burst open and in came Peter, dressed in his Spiderman suit.
"Let her go," he growled, his fists clenched in anger.
The masked man laughed, pulling out a knife and pressing it against your throat. "I don't think so, spidey. I've been waiting for this moment. The moment I finally get to kill someone close to you."
Peter's eyes widened in fear, but he didn't back down. "Let her go and take me instead."
The masked man hesitated, considering Peter's offer. But before he could make a move, Peter shot out a web and knocked the knife out of his hand and punched him hard in the face. You took the opportunity to break free from your restraints and run towards Peter, wrapping your arms around him in relief. The man stumbled back, not realizing that he was standing on the edge of the building. When he realized, it was already late. He couldn’t catch himself and fell down.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Peter's worried voice filled your ears as he set you down and checked you over for any injuries.
"I-I'm fine." you stammered, still in shock from the whole ordeal.
"Good. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," Peter said, looking at you with genuine concern in his eyes. "Come on, let's get you home," he said, scooping you up in his arms and swinging away, landing both of you on the ground.
The adrenaline slowly started to wear off and you began to feel the full weight of what had just happened. You couldn't stop shaking.
Peter noticed and stopped, turning to face you. "Hey, it's okay," he said, his voice soft and comforting. "You're safe now."
You couldn't hold back anymore and you wrapped your arms around Peter, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. He held you tightly, rubbing your back in soothing circles.
"It's over now," he whispered, his words like a balm to your frazzled nerves.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you whispered, tears streaming down your face.
Peter tightened his grip on you, his heart still racing. You were standing like that for a solid five minutes. You had stopped crying a while ago, but you didn’t want to let go of him yet.
When you finally pulled away, you both looked into each other's eyes and in that moment, you both knew what you wanted.
Without a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, pouring all your pent-up emotions into the kiss. Peter responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as you deepened the kiss.
When you pulled away, panting for air, Peter looked at you “I'll always come to save you, no matter what," he said softly, kissing your temple.
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venus616 · 2 years ago
Note
Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽
his muse; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked
Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~
(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)
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You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 
It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 
He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.
The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 
Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 
“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.
“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.
Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.
Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.
Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.
His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.
You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 
“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 
No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 
He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 
You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 
Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.
“You weren’t naked before.”
A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”
You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 
A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.
His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 
“Let’s change that.” 
You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 
“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 
His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 
Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.
“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 
You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 
Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 
You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.
Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.
You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  
You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 
The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 
“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 
Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 
When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 
You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 
No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 
When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 
You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 
“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 
You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 
Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 
He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 
His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 
“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  
“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 
You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 
You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 
Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 
Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 
Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 
Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 
You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 
Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.
Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 
You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 
Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.
“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 
“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 
Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 
“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 
Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 
You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.
“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 
“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 
“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 
He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 
“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.
You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 
“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.
“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 
He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 
One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.
“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 
“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 
“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 
He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 
“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.
“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.
You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 
Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 
“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 
“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 
Or that’s what you thought. 
You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 
You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 
You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.
“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 
Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 
“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 
“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 
“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 
A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 
You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 
You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 
He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 
Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 
One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 
Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.
A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 
The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 
Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 
“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 
You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 
“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 
“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 
You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 
“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 
He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 
“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 
“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 
Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 
“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 7 months ago
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Marriage Rumours
masterlist
note: kinda like it, kinda don't 🤷‍♀️
warnings: none <3
word count: n/a
♡ summary: Rumours of a marriage end up being true
♡ Andrew Garfield x Wife!reader
request ✓
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ynln_official
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liked by tarayummy, florencepugh, and others
ynln_official: domestic life.
view all comments
yn.stannn: they're puzzling together
drew: whos dog is that???
pughpugh: she's adorable and insanely hot at the same time.
tina.bob_idk: i want this 😭
andrew_imcomingforyou: i want her
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ynln_official
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liked by zendaya, anyataylorjoy, and others
ynln_official: bring your partner to work day
📸 : andrew
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iamauser: i don't know if i want to be her or be with her
hello.howsurday: y'all notice she never says 'boyfriend' its always 'partner'???
imgettinglazy: i love that andrew just followed yn around work like a lost puppy
author: she's so hot 🥵
user: the hottest couple 🔥🔥
not.lizzie: i don't even know which one i would rather be
lizzie: easy i want to be andrew.
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emma
@/ynln-updates
yn and andrew were pictured leaving the gym. looks like they were playing tennis.
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jemma @/tasm.isbest replying to @/ynln-updates i wish i looked that good after working out
Tessa @/torturedpoet replying to @/ynln-updates if you room in you can see that the necklace yn is wearing is a ring
jess @/likeingilmoregirls replying to @/torturedpoet kinda looks like a wedding ring
jess @/likeingilmoregirls replying to @/likeingilmoregirls plus they did go on like a two month long trip last year
Tessa @/torturedpeot replying to @/likeingilmoregirls wait! truee!!!!
Emily @/maisiepeters.stan replying to @/likeingilmoregirls why would it be a wedding ring if it's around her neck?
Tessa @/torturedpoet replying to @/maisiepeters.stan because they just came from the gym my mom does that with her ring
tiffany @/reblogifyouwatched.tns replying to @/ynln-updates he has bi wife energy. thats why i think they're married.
steph @/currentlybelievesinlove replying to @/ynln-updates if they ever break up i don't think i'll believe in love.
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ynln_official
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, gemmastyles, and others
ynln_official: one year with the love of my life 🤍
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tessa_sameone: I KNEW IT
mytummyhurts: prettiest wedding photos everrrr
reneerapp.loml: a YEAR? damnnn
tiff.tns_: knew he gave bi wife energy.
brina.and.tayy: the sunglasses are givingggg
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akairawrites · 1 year ago
Text
Cats Out The Bag | Damian Wayne Imagine
Curiosity Killed The Cat part 2
Taglist
@ella-fella-bo-bella @ayoitsurfavdesigurl @luvvvjada @harleycao @aiq39 @lumineliax @420sprite @stvrfir3 @instabull @rukia-uchiha-98 @1lellykins @lilupie @deliciousfatblackcat @skyesayshi @imarimone12 @mysticalhills @4arancia @bat-h-tic @luvelyxp @urmomsbananabread @elebeleb @strawberrycreamb @princessofhope0 @itisjustagirl @dollceesstuff @just-reading-dany @Ginger24880 @godknows-shetried @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @kierancaz @Crystals-faith @cascadingbliss
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You could feel the cool night breeze against your cheeks as you gracefully leaped through the air. It was a tranquil night in Gotham, the perfect backdrop for criminal activities.
Upon descending from the side of the building, you headed toward the front entrance. Naturally, the door was locked. You reached for a bobby pin from your hair and crouched down to examine the lock. Inserting the pin, you heard a satisfying click as the door unlocked. A self-satisfied smile crossed your face as you returned the bobby pin to its place. Inside, you inhaled deeply and exhaled, a smirk forming as you dropped your duffel bag. Rifling through it, you retrieved a homemade C-4 like device. With practiced ease, you entered a password on the screen and affixed it to the wall near the safety deposit boxes. After a few seconds, the device beeped, and the boxes popped open with a hiss. Your first-time trial was a success, and you couldn't help but smile.
Swiftly, you went through almost every box, finding mostly deeds and divorce papers. Fortunately, you stumbled upon some jewelry, and someone even carelessly stashed a wad of cash inside, which you promptly pocketed.
Once your bag was stuffed, you exited the building unnoticed. Scaling the side of the building, you reached the rooftop to survey your surroundings, ensuring no heroic intervention was imminent. As you counted the money you had collected, a pair of feet landed behind you. You sighed in annoyance and slowly turned around, still clutching the cash.
To your surprise, it was Robin.
A few years back, after robbing a jewelry store, Selina had persuaded you to take a break from a life of crime, deeming it too perilous and unpredictable. Only recently had she allowed you to return to your illicit activities. You took a moment to observe him, noticing his increased muscularity and shorter hair. With his mask on, he would be unrecognizable anyway. "You got taller," were your initial words.
Little did you know that Damian was scrutinizing you as well. The last time he'd seen you, he was just 14 years old. Normally, he wouldn't care much about his adversaries, let alone think about them as much as he did about you. Even though you had bested him the first and only time you'd crossed paths, he couldn't help but think about you.
"And you got curvier," Damian blurted out, unable to prevent the words from escaping his mouth. He mentally scolded himself for succumbing to his intrusive thoughts.
You gave him a quizzical look, unsure if he was attempting to flirt with you. He didn't strike you as the flirting type. Shaking your head, you slapped the cash against your palm and rocked on your heels. Slipping the money into your bag, you slung it over your shoulder. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, but I gotta go." You turned to walk in the opposite direction, but a force struck you from behind, sending you tumbling to the ground, landing on your stomach with your chin scraping against the pavement. You groaned and rolled over, just as Damian unsheathed his sword in a graceful forward roll.
"Didn't your mother teach you not to hit a girl?" you taunted.
"No, she threw me into the League of Assassins, where I was trained to be a cold-blooded killer," Damian replied.
Damn.
Damian rushed toward you, his sword slicing through the air. Swiftly, you rolled out of the way, but he managed to slice open your bag instead. You stood up as he charged at you again, the absence of your bag making the fight a fairer match. You assumed it would be easier to defeat him this time, just as you had when you first faced off.
As you prepared to throw a punch, Damian seized your wrist and struck your elbow, simultaneously sweeping your leg from under you. You crashed to the ground, landing hard on your back and knocking the wind out of you. He threw away his sword and grabbed you by the collar of your suit, cocking his fist back and delivering a punch to your face. The ringing in your ears intensified as the blows continued.
Foolishly underestimating Damian, you realized he was much stronger than he had been four years ago. He was giving his all, determined not to stop until you were defeated. Gathering enough energy, you managed to kick him off you. As you wiped your nose, feeling the blood trickling from your lips, you stood up, reminding yourself that you were not your mother.
You landed a few punches, but Damian's strength remained a significant advantage. He kicked you in the stomach, causing you to tumble toward the edge of the building. He slowly approached you, grabbing you by the hair to lift your head off the ground. He surveyed your bloodied and battered face, sighing as if regretting what he was about to do. With nothing left in you to fight back, you braced yourself as he delivered a final blow that sent you over the side of the building, hurtling towards the ground.
You clutched your book tightly to your chest as you navigated the bustling hallway. Skillfully, you maneuvered past the people blocking your path, making your way to your locker. After shoving your books inside, you retrieved the ones needed for your next class. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone's intense gaze was fixed on the side of your head. You glanced to your left and found yourself locking eyes with a pair of piercing green ones. Damian stood only a few feet away, next to his own locker. You let out a resigned sigh, anticipating that he might deliver another one of his lectures.
A few weeks ago, Damian had been assigned as your tutor for the rest of the year, given your struggle to keep up with your classes due to frequent absences. Neither of you had welcomed this arrangement, but your slipping grades left you with no choice but to accept help, even if it meant being tutored by the most arrogant person you'd ever encountered.
As Damian approached, you couldn't help but speak up, "What do you want, Damian?"
"I want you to meet me at my dorm once classes are over," he stated, his tone more commanding than inquisitive. You arched an eyebrow and closed your locker. "For what? We don't have anything scheduled for today."
He merely sighed. "I just need to have a word with you," he said and walked past you without further explanation. Your eyes tracked his retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall. You couldn't help but mutter, "Who does he think he is?"
After the school day ended, you complied with his request and made your way to Damian's dorm. You knocked and waited for a few moments, unsure of the reason behind this unusual request. Damian seldom engaged with you outside of tutoring, making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with you ever since you'd punched him in the face.
Once Damian finally came to the door, he said nothing when he saw it was you. He just stepped out of the way, allowing you to enter. You walked into the small dorm room, which was plain but tidy. The walls lacked decorations, reminiscent of how your dorm looked when you first moved in. Damian's tie and blazer lay discarded on his neatly made bed, leaving him in his half-buttoned dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” you asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, being careful not to disrupt the bedding.
Last week, when Damian came to your dorm to study, his eyes caught sight of something on your nightstand—an emerald green necklace that almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes. It had looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. A few days ago, it finally clicked in his head where he had seen it before. Too much evidence pointed to you being someone he desperately did not want you to be. He would never admit it, but you were growing on him, and he secretly enjoyed your company. To confirm his suspicions, he needed one more piece of evidence.
"Let me see your hand," Damian abruptly requested.
"What?"
"Your hand, let me see it." Without waiting for your response, he took hold of your hand and examined your palm. He noticed a scar running diagonally across it, he remembered when you came to school with it bandaged up. You had told people it resulted from a kitchen accident, but he knew the truth. Damian was piecing everything together like a puzzle. It would explain why he often caught you sneaking into the dorms late at night, as well as why you were frequently late to class and tutoring.
It was you.
He just couldn't figure out how you were alive. He had believed he killed you. His heart ached at the thought.
You watched as Damian traced the scar on your hand with his thumb, his touch sending a tingly sensation through your skin.
"Damian...?" Your voice came out softer than intended. When he heard his name, he looked up at you, his eyes conveying a mixture of fear and regret, emotions you never thought you'd see from him.
"I know," he simply stated.
Confused, you shook your head. "You know what?"
And then it clicked. He KNEW. Why else would he be so interested in your scar? You thought you had done a good job of keeping it hidden. In fact, you had done a good job. The only way he would know was if he had been there.
You withdrew your hand from his. "You're Robin?" You didn't receive an immediate response, which confirmed your suspicion. You sighed, unsure if you should be upset or not. After all, it's not as if the two of you were best friends who had promised never to lie to each other. You did feel somewhat guilty for beating him up, but he had almost killed you in return.
"I'm sorry," he finally admitted, looking away, as if he couldn't bear to make eye contact while apologizing. It was a momentary lapse of his ego.
"Damian Wayne apologizing?" you said, a smug grin on your face.
He rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."
You laughed and playfully nudged him. You noticed a small smirk tugging at his lips, and it made your own smile grow wider.
Surprisingly, you both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Damian decided to break it.
"How did you survive that fall anyway?" he asked.
You chuckled. "No one told you? I'm like a cat, Damian. I have nine lives."
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If you couldn’t tell I tried to avoid having to come up with a alias for Y/N…anyway,
Add yourself to my taglist here
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zvdvdlvr · 3 months ago
Text
workaholic
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syn. Peter makes you take a rest day.
“Hey, you,” Peter greeted, walking into the gym. He quickly changed his tennis shoes to his wrestling shoes without lacing them up and tossed you your waterbottle as you started walking over. “How are you?”
You sighed. “Tired. I have a tourney this weekend, school volleyball and wrestling practice this week. Club wrestling’s kicking my ass as usual,” you told him after taking a drink of electrolyte-filled water. “But. How are you, spider boy?”
Peter’s eyes softened as you- sweaty, exhausted, and beat- shrugged off your own issues and asked about his own responsibilities. “Good, good. But… I’d be a lot better if you went home with me now.”
You tilted your head and raised a brow. “Peter.”
“Baby, you’re gonna run yourself into the ground!” Peter said, waving his arms around dramatically. “I know you have work, school, and sports, but if I can take tonight of, so can you.”
“I- Peter, I can’t just skip.”
A scoff left Peter’s lips. “Y/n. My beautiful, smart, hardworking girlfriend. You’ve been doing drills. Over and over. By yourself. For the past hour and a half.”
You shrugged and made a face as if to say ‘so what?’ “Best way to improve is to put in the worm. Even if nobody sees it.”
“Yes, y/n, I know. But you can’t grow as an athlete or person if you don’t take a night to rest. To give yourself a break. Isn’t-“ Peter laughed, placing his hands on your cheeks. “Isn’t that what you tell me?”
“That’t different, Peter,” you reply. “You’re Spiderman. You need breaks otherwise you’ll never heal from the injuries you get on the field.”
Peter threw his hands up in the air. “I will pick you up and drag you out of here, y/n. You need at least one night to let your muscles relax and grow. It’s literally been proven that every time you train, you create microscopic tears in your muscles that grow back stronger when you heal and rest.”
“Pete…” you sigh. Closing your eyes and letting your head fall back, you know you should take a night. You knew you were a workaholic and you knew that you were incredibly stubborn… So having Peter be there to make sure you took care of yourself was nice. You just wished you didn’t feel so guilty unlacing your shoes and walking out of the gym without looking back.
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An hour later, you were limp in Peter’s arms as he braided your hair absentmindedly.
Peter watched you shrug your bag off at the door and beeline for the shower. He knew you’d never admit it but you worked yourself too damn hard. But Peter liked being able to take care of you.
As your body covered his like a security blanket, Peter treasured these soft moments- the rarer they were, the more Peter appreciated them.
Or, Peter’s just a lover boy.
Maybe both.
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moon-fics · 1 year ago
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The Truth-Peter Parker
A/n: Ok, so the original angst fic I wanted to post is taking longer than I thought to finish. Here's a shorter angst-to-fluff fic that I think you'll enjoy!
Summary: Peter has been different recently and you don't like it.
Warning: Swears, Peter being stupid
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Today is not your day, not even close. You realize that while staring down at the chapter text you didn't study for. You always tell yourself college grades are the most important thing in your life, but somehow you fucked this one up. Probably because your best friend has been on and off the grid for the past month.
You choose random answers for half a page, rubbing your forehead in frustration as the questions get harder. You glance over your shoulder to see Peter in the back of the class, practically breezing through the test. Of course, you aren't surprised seeing as he's already an expert in organic chemistry. You mentally curse him out for being smart enough not to study.
You still have five questions unanswered but at this point, you're at a low. With a deep breath you write down random answers you hope are bullshit enough to be accepted. You quickly stand from your chair, placing the test on the professor's desk. You get the shortest look at the class, half of them are already gone. You grab your backpack, swinging it over your shoulder. Right as you pass the professor's desk you hear shuffling from the very back, knowing it's Peter.
You don't spare him a glance, speeding up as you walk through the campus halls. You're about to turn the corner towards the exit when you hear footsteps gaining on you. You don't have to look to know who it is.
You push open the doors, heading straight to your car in hopes Peter doesn't reach you. Sadly, today is really not your day.
You only get halfway through the parking lot when he calls out to you. You can't pretend to not hear him because even a senile old man would. With a heavy sigh, you turn on your heel and watch him approach you.
"Hey, what's the rush?" He asks innocently, stopping a few feet in front of you. He hasn't even broken a sweat but he's breathing like he's run a mile. "I saw that you didn't do too well on the test." He tries to strike up a conversation.
"How would you know that? You were in the back of the class." You raise an eyebrow, genuinely wondering how he'd know that. You watch his face change as he tries to come up with a reason. It's either going to be a lie or he'll brush it off. That's what he's been doing recently, lying to you or avoiding you altogether.
"You left in a bad mood." He answers, shrugging his shoulders. You decide not to press further, knowing it'll lead nowhere. "You should have asked if you needed help, I could have rambled about organic chemistry until you'd become a secondhand expert!" This makes you lose your politeness.
"When could I have asked you?" You scoff, crossing your arms. "We barely talk and when I text you I get left on delivered." You point out with a frown. You could probably pull up his contact and scroll through the constant unanswered messages that are paired with random texts from him, usually at unreasonable hours. At one point you tried matching whatever sleep schedule he's on, but eventually had to stop for your sanity.
Peter nods his head, not defending himself. "I know I've been busy, I should have tried to talk to you more." He says in a genuine tone. He looks down at the asphalt, rubbing the back of his neck. You can't lie, even when you're close to ditching him in the parking lot, he looks good. "I promise that I'm not distracted anymore, I swear on my test score!" His eyes shift to look at you, his head ducked down a bit still. He looks adorable at that angle.
"And I'm supposed to care why?" You shift your weight onto one leg, the weight of your backpack making your back ache. A part of you wants to just forgive him and pretend like the past few weeks didn't happen, the other half wants to reject him and drive home.
"I was hoping we could hang out, you know like friends do." He chuckles. If his smile wasn't so perfect you'd call him insane, maybe even dramatically march away. Instead, you find yourself excited about the idea of spending time with him again. Your heart betraying your stubborn brain.
"And if I were to say yes, what would we do?" You enquire, pretending to not be interested. It's too bad you never made the starring role in any school plays.
"I'd order us pizza and invite you to watch a movie at my apartment." You've forgotten how much his internships are paying him, OSCORP definitely loves him. "I'll even buy those cupcakes you loved from that bakery." That catches your interest.
"Hmm, I'll have to see." You pretend to think, making him groan. You both know you're more than free, but you enjoy tormenting him. Honestly, spending time with Peter while eating free food is a double win. "I guess I'll do it." You relent, watching as his smile grows even more. You can see his eyes brighten once you agree, making your heart race.
"Perfect, Friday night at 6 o'clock!" He details, and you mentally note it. There's no way you'd miss it, not for the world.
-
It's pouring rain when you finally reach his apartment, you're dripping down the hallway. You know how to get to his apartment by heart having done it so much. The hallway filled with apartment doors is warm enough to keep you from shivering.
You reach his door, knocking a few times. You wait awkwardly, noticing how dead quiet it is. You hope he has clothes you can borrow so yours can dry, wet clothes are anything but comfortable.
You wait a few seconds before knocking again, still having hope about tonight. You assure yourself he's probably listening to music or in the shower. You send him a text letting him know you're outside.
After a few minutes, you call him, becoming impatient. The warmth of the hallway is no longer enough, your skin covered in bumps and your teeth chattering. There's no answer, you go straight to voicemail.
You don't want to believe he's not home. You try to come up with an excuse, anything that could stop the ache in your chest. However, you've been in this situation before. You know how tonight will end and it doesn't include free pizza and cupcakes.
You wait five more minutes before you have no patients left in you. You turn away from the door, heading back down the hallway, into the elevator, and back into the rainy night. On the way out you open his contact, sending one last message telling him to forget about it.
-
You wake up to the sound of your ringtone blaring in your ears. With a sleepy groan, you pick up your charging phone, seeing Peter's contact name in bold letters. You stare at the call, turning your sound off. You wait until the call ends before checking the time, seeing it's almost 3AM. No way in hell are you answering his calls this early in the morning, not after he stood you up.
You put your phone down, rolling away from it on your bed. You just want to sleep the day away, feeling disgusting from getting caught in the rain.
You fall asleep for a few hours before hearing a knock. You groggily sit up, heading to your bedroom door. You assume it's your roommate but when you open the door no one is there. You hear the knocking again, it's from your window.
Your body tenses, fear creeping up your back. You don't want to turn around in case your childhood fears were real and there's a killer on your fire escape.
There's a third round of knocks that come in a specific rhythm. You know that knock and you kind of wish it was a killer instead. You don't want to see Peter, but it's too late to act as if you're still asleep. Even if you did go back to sleep, you have no choice but to look at him while walking to your bed.
You know you'll regret this decision later, but you head to your window anyway. You lean on the windowsill, glaring daggers into Peter's soul through the glass. He gets the message instantly, giving you a pleading look. He points to the lock on your window, silently asking you to open it.
You huff, unlocking the window and pushing it open. You're itching to chew him out, to confront him about making you feel like shit. You want to get the first word, but the moment the window opens Peter is speaking.
"I'm so so so sorry! I promise I didn't leave you hanging on purpose!" He begins, talking at the speed of sound. He's sweating, his hair flat compared to his usual updo. "Something came up and I couldn't check my phone!" Another excuse.
"Just say you forgot and let me sleep." You grumble, eye locked with his. He knows you aren't messing around and that this is the last straw. He's fucked up for the last time and now he's grasping at anything to fix it. "At least spare me the truth."
"I swear I'm telling the truth, there was an emergency and I tried to get to my apartment in time." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's still withholding the truth and you know you'll never get it like this.
"Alright, Peter, I'm done." You pat your legs before reaching to shut your window. Before you can even touch the wooden frame, something sticky touches your wrist. Your eyes land on a white substance pulling on your skin slightly. You follow the string down to Peter's wrist, his eyes wide. There's a wristband with some sort of mechanism on it. "What the fuck?"
Before you can think he's climbing through your window, disconnecting his web from his wrist. You stare at the substance still attached to you, it reminds you of a spider's web. Spiderweb.
"OH, MY-" Peter places a hand over your mouth, shushing you. His palms are rough but warm. Your eyes are wide and the tips of your fingers are numb as things slowly get put into place in your mind.
"Please, don't scream," Peter begs, slowly removing his hand from your mouth. Your jaw is on the floor and you both know you have a lot to talk about.
-
Not in a million years did you expect tonight to go like this. You did not foresee Peter confessing to being Spider-Man or sitting on a rooftop as he explains his powers. You have no idea what time it is, but the sun is beginning to rise.
"So, this whole time you've been fighting crime and going to college?" That's the thing you can't wrap your head around. He has amazing grades, you're even jealous of him for it. You're trying to figure out how he doesn't pass out all the time from exhaustion.
"Yeah, I've been balancing everything." He admits. Your heart pangs at the idea of him wearing himself out constantly and then still trying to make time for you. "I promise if last night wasn't a serious emergency I would have been there." He shakes his head.
For the first time in a while, you believe him. "You shouldn't beat yourself up about it." You comfort him, rubbing his back. Now that you know the full truth, everything makes sense. You don't feel bad for being upset, but you can't hold onto the anger anymore.
"I tried so hard to make any time for you," He mumbles, watching the sunrise and the sky changes colors. "Every time I thought about messaging you or even talking to you, someone would commit a crime." He chuckles, handing his head between his knees.
"Well, now that I know I forgive you." You num, nudging him playfully. Honestly, knowing he's a secret superhero makes him ten times more attractive. "Besides, now I know you aren't trying to avoid me." You joke.
"Avoid you? Never." He scoffs, wrapping an arm around you. "If anything you're one of the reasons I fight for this city. I want you to live in a place that's protected." There's a long silence as you digest his words, trying to figure out if he's saying what you think he is. After an awkward amount of quiet, he speaks again, "I just want to make sure I wasn't being too subtle, I've been in love with you since freshman year." He says bluntly, putting it all out in the air.
"Oh." That is all you can say. The guy you've had a crush on has liked you for the same amount of time and all you can say is 'Oh'. You really need to slap yourself.
"Oh." He repeats, tapping his knees. "So, uhm, I love this chat I've created." He thins his lips, trying not to look directly at you.
It takes a second but your brain finally catches up with your heart. You turn to face him, your eyes are wide. You grip his arm as if he's leaving. "OH!" Your voice raises in a few octaves, "You're in love with me!"
"Yeah, I am." He laughs, taking your hand in his. Your heart is slamming against your chest, trying to find the correct words to say.
"I'm in love with you, too!" You shout, finally forming words. You sound extremely stupid and socially broken. "I just thought you were a dick!"
"No, you were right. I was being a dick." Peter nods his head with a smile on his face. You don't disagree with him, instead, you keep your eyes on his face. You're soaking up his features, taking in every pore and micro-scar on his face. "But I wish I had confessed sooner."
"I wish you did too, but I'm glad it's now instead of never." You lean your head on his shoulder, hand still in his. He brushes his finger over the back of your palm. "Besides, now we can be one of those couples at graduation who post like fifty photos." You tease.
"Couple?" His head snaps to look at you, "You still want to date me?" He asks in such a quiet voice, almost unsure you'll say yes. It shatters your heart to see him like this, believing that years of friendship and pining will go away after a couple rough patches.
"Oh, I'd date the fuck out of you," You nod your head with a serious look. His expression brightens more than before, and his free hand reaches to touch your face.
"Can I please kiss you?" He asks, his lips about to graze yours.
"If you don't I think I might jump off this roof." You lean closer and Peter doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. The kiss is rough for just a second before mellowing out. You don't realize how much you've been craving this until it's actually happening.
He finally pulls away for air, resting his forehead on yours. "Holy shit." He gasps, trying to catch his breath. "I think this is the best moment of my life."
"It better be." You respond, going in for another kiss.
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ofbluesandyellows · 6 months ago
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Blueberry Wednesday - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader
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Summary: Peter has a new noisy neighbor and he doesn't know how to deal with that -including bright plates and tasty food.
Word count: 2,086
a/n: Hiya! This is a new little thing that came to mind a few days ago, it's so nice to be back to share something with you. Hope you enjoy it let me know if you want to read more :)
Peter had been living in this new apartment for a few months now, the building was nicer than the last, the hot shower worked fine and the electricity didn’t have that buzzing sound that made his migraines unbearable. It was in an okay area and it was close to where he worked.
His life had been monotonous for the same amount of time too, maybe even longer, waking up, shower, coffee, work, lunch, patrol, kick some ass, fix his wounds —when needed—, sleep and back to square one. Peter didn’t feel the need of anything at the moment, Mary Jane had broken up with him for the second time, and even when he was heartbroken, and cried to sleep when he missed her, he was not pushing her to accept him back, he knew it was for the best. Pushing everyone away was the thing he was masterful at. 
But this banging and screeching coming from the floor on top of his was causing his body to flinch every time that mother fucker sound appeared. His jaw clenched, his fist tightened. Peter had given whomever this person was, about an hour to come to their senses but this was enough. He stood up from his bed, leaving his badly sewed spider-man fixed suit splattered on the bed. Heavy steps and the slam of his door didn’t give the owner of the apartment a clue of what was coming for them, so when he banged the door two times, he waited but nothing happened, instead a wave of noise came through of it, as if the air and life were doing it on purpose just to add more stress in him; music the loud kind, instruments clashing against one another as if they had no rhythm to go with.
He banged the door, this time with white knuckles and a fury bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly the music stopped and Peter inhaled, oh, he was so ready to give this person hell, he was even expecting a fight to go down. This didn’t have anything to do with MJ dating another person, of course not, this was about the noise, yeah, that was it.
The door swung open and Peter puffed his chest, but it deflated the second his eyes landed on your frame. 
“Hi!” You said chirpy and jolly, waving a hand. Your hair was messy as if a wind swirl had trapped you and now you had to deal with this new crazy hairdo and a sweaty forehead.
Peter tried, he really did but his eyes betrayed him and went up and down your body, pink shorts, with strawberries, that was something. Your shirt was spotty with breach, it was an Arctic Monkeys one, he liked them. You looked… not as annoying as he expected.
He gulped and inevitably sighed. “Um hello, listen, I came up here to make you stop with the noise but I was not expecting to find you here, so um, yeah sorry. Just would you keep it down?”
All the hot bubbly anger settled down, he was in no way going to fight a girl let alone an adorable looking one.
“Oh, I had no idea, sorry!” You smiled sheepishly. “I just moved in this morning and I was trying to move a few things around because they just left them all scattered and I kind of wanted to— anyway yeah I am so sorry about that.” 
Peter nodded, he caught the pink in your cheeks going brighter the more he stared at you.
“You’re fine, really, maybe I’m just being a little dramatic.” 
Dammit enhanced hearing. 
“I bet you aren’t, I put the music too loud to avoid hearing the screeching myself.” Scratching your cheek you looked at him in the eye and quickly looked away. 
“Well, I live downstairs, do you… er need some help?” Peter looked past you, his eyes landing on the piled boxes and the furniture indeed resting in the center of the room.
“No need, I think I caused enough mayhem,”
“Nonsense, I would be also doing it for myself, if I help you you will finish early, hence I can have silence in my own apartment.” 
After a second you nodded, stepping aside. “Alright then.”
“My name’s Peter Parker by the way, I live literally below you.” His big hand extended, you met his and soon you two were moving furniture around the apartment, the music didn’t sound like noise in Peter’s ears any more, he in fact found out you really liked The Strokes.
The next morning Peter woke up with a banging headache, a brick wall fell over him when he tried to save a dog from a fire down by Little Italy. Only positive thing about his heroic act was that the owner of the dog handed him a little coupon card for free pizzas for the rest of the year at his son’s pizzeria two blocks down. He was definitely using that one.
A soft almost imperceptible knock startled him as he swallowed two ibuprofens with a big gulp of black coffee. The coffee was cold but he couldn’t care less.
As if he wasn't sure the knock had been on his door, he opened it slowly, you couldn’t be too sure anyway. At least his spider senses weren’t skyrocketing, which was always good.
His eyes found emptiness, there was no one at his door, his head popped out, looking to the right then the left and then a sweet smell caught his attention. Syrup-y, vanilla like.
Eyes went to the floor instinctively, right at his feet there was a yellow plate, a baby blue sticky note on the plastic wrapping it. 
His brows furrowed as he squatted down. 
Hi, Peter Parker.
I’m so sorry I disturbed your peace last night, 
take these pancakes as an apology and as a thank you for your help.
Have a good day,
- your noisy top floor neighbor.
Peter felt a flutter in his chest, he hadn’t eaten pancakes in so long, and these looked extremely good. The plastic wrap was forming little condensation drops, so he picked it up, with a smile forming on his lips.
As soon as the wrap was discarded his apartment filled with the smell of sweet homey goodness. Even a little plastic pot of syrup was resting at the side of the pancakes. He looked at them for a good minute, just appreciating the looks of it. 
“Okay…” he mumbled to himself as he grabbed a fork, his cold coffee still half drunk near his left hand.
Peter firstly dipped his pinky in the syrup and as he sucked on it he couldn’t help to make a sound of pure joy. Pouring the gooey thing over the spongy misshapen circles was making his mouth water and the first bite was like a whole new experience to him. He noticed how the pancakes were soft like he imagined clouds were, then he chewed on something sour his eyes widened, looking down he noticed the very well hidden blueberries.
It was like having a party in his mouth, warm, sugary with a hint of sourness and then all combined, he moaned as his forehead hit the surface of the counter in his kitchen. 
“You have to be kidding me!” 
Peter was a fan of berries in general but there was definitely something in the blueberries that made him extremely happy, it was almost childish, it was probably the memories of his mom adding them to his cereal when he refused to eat something else.
The whole thing disappeared in less than a few minutes. He was both flattered and a bit insulted by you for giving him six pancakes instead of the common amount of three but he was also very grateful, he hadn’t had a breakfast like that since he lived with May, and that had been years ago. This made him feel warm inside, almost loved.
The water of the sink cleaned the remains of the food and he stared at the plate, a big pink smiley face was painted on the center of it, this made him chuckle, one that vanished as quickly as it came. How was he supposed to give you back your plate, he was not good at cooking, well… only if you appreciated instant ramen or mac and cheese coming from a box.
He wasn’t very fond of the idea of returning your plate empty, made him feel ungrateful, even though he had been the one handing you his services, it hadn’t taken much from him to help you anyway, you had been nice and chatty, he even enjoyed being around you, and Peter didn’t enjoy being around many people. 
With a deep sigh he left the cheery plate to dry on the rack, he had to go to work now.
Working for this new lab was something he didn’t expect to feel excited about but being part of the genetics department was probably the best decision they made for him, he could check all kinds of weird things, giving him access to classified information that was also helpful for his arachnid counterpart. 
But just today wasn’t one of those days, his mind kept on drifting to you and your plate and those freaking incredible pancakes. Deep down he thought of finding ways to help you so he could eat those delicious fluffy things at least once more. For now he had to just entertain the idea, soon he focused on options to give you back your stuff without even going knocking at your door.
Because that would be weird? Isn’t it? To knock and give your plate back with a nod and then disappear without a word. It seemed too impolite and somehow Peter wanted to seem like a complete gentleman with you, after all he had been a bit forward last night, he was tired and upset and you were being so noisy but now here he was in a dilemma. 
Lunch felt like a slap, like a bucket of cold water, his sandwich tasted like sandpaper –not that he had tried it but he guessed that’s what it tasted like–not even his favorite drink from the vending machine seemed good enough in comparison to his three Michelin star breakfast. Swinging back home felt a little better than going in the subway, he made a mental note to fix his motorcycle, he didn’t need to deal with the heat of the city when he could drive to work and back and enjoy the breeze.
You know how destiny and coincidences are such a funny thing, Peter decided to take the elevator to his floor instead of just crawling up to his window. He just felt like it, so he stood there waiting until the door clinked sliding open, revealing a figure inside, your sparkly eyes was the first thing he saw.
Peter almost gasped.
“Peter! Hi,”
“Hey! Are you heading out?” duh how are you so smart, Parker? “I mean yeah of course you are, if not you wouldn’t be here.”
You chuckled. “Yes, I just ran out of milk.” Cheeks going pink, Peter smirked.
“Right, well, I won’t get in your way.”
“Okay, see you around.” 
Peter walked in the elevator and just as you walked past him, he held the door open just to see you for a little longer.
“Hey!” he quickly shouted. your hair flipping as you twirled to face him. “Thanks for the pancakes, they were really good, like exceptionally amazing.” 
“Ha, wow no, thank you, I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, hopefully there won't be more disturbances in the future.” 
“Please, be my guest, if you need something you know where to find me.” 
“Will try not to bother you much but it’s good to know, thanks!” 
Peter was grinning. “By the way, the blueberries were quite the surprise, they’re my favorite.”
Your whole face brightened “Good! You were lucky, then. It was Blueberry Wednesday.”
Chest fluttering and all, Peter saw you wave at him and disappear out the door, his way to his apartment felt light, like all his worries had suddenly evaporated. His apartment seemed cozier too. Kicking off his shoes, he went to grab a glass of water, his eyes finding the happy yellow and pink plate, he almost choked.
“Oh shit! What am I going to do with you?”
Scratching his neck, he really needed an excuse now. He wanted to see you again.
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asterias-record-shop · 1 year ago
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Wedding night And #8 for Andrew Garfield?
—𓆩[we go down together]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩[your wedding song ♡]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Husband! Andrew Garfield x Wife! Fem! Pregnant! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - pure fluff and smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.5K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Andrew promised you that he would make sure your wedding was perfect. He didn’t care how much it cost, where it would be, who was invited, as long as he was marrying you. Even then though, as much as he wanted to stick by the rules and not see you on the special day, he sneaks a peak and sees a small little surprise you had just for him.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || I gave you best friends with names inspired by Harry Potter cuz my sister was watching it- || Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Florence Pugh are now your best friend cuz they’re amazing || I didn’t put the actual wedding ceremony cuz it would’ve taken too long sorry with love 🤍 || I chose a wedding song for you || public oral || public sex || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || pregnant sex || daddy kink || lactation kink || pregnancy kink || this is pure filthy smut I’m so sorry I got carried away- ||
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“So, are you going to kick me out now?” Andrew whispered to you, his hands teasing at your hips in an attempt to persuade you into letting him stay the whole night. He thought the superstition was stupid, and to you as well, but your best friends were insisting on it.
Besides, you had a little gift for Andrew you didn’t want him seeing, so it worked out.
You hummed, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. It was tempting, him and his perfect accent, but no. This was being done for the right reason. “Not yet. You still have a few minutes.”
Andrew sends you his signature lopsided grin. “I can do a lot in a few minutes.”
You couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned forward, kissing you softly with a firm press of his lips. “I know you can baby… I know.”
He grins, raising a brow. “So I can-?”
“It’s 11:55, Andrew, get out!” Your best friend rushed in, grabbing him from the bed and basically dragging him out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, sitting up as they paused.
“He can’t see you on your wedding day!” They then proceeded to drag him out, a loud laugh escaping his lips.
“I love you, my sweet girl!”
“I love you too, Andrew!”
The next morning, Andrew knew he wasn’t supposed to see the gift you gave your best friend, a bright blue bag that he had seen around the house but never looked inside because you were yelling exclusively at him not to.
“Look! Isn’t it so cute, I got it custom made,” you pulled out a tiny piece of cloth that he couldn’t see, but it wasn’t like he was trying to whenever he was staring at the beautiful wedding dress you had on. “He’s going to love it, right?”
Maybe it was lingerie, oh he’d love any lingerie you’d put on. It didn’t make sense though, you’d have the lingerie on, underneath that beautiful wedding dress that would’ve had ancestors turning in their graves.
The white fabric was tight on your body, lace overlapping the skin toned fabric that matched yours perfectly to make it seem like the white lace and the intricate beadings and pearls and small white and clear crystals that made it seem like it was dancing on your skin. He inhaled deeply as you turned around, makeup perfect and that perfect white gold ring that had the large diamond created into it made a deep sigh leave his lips, his eyes already watering.
Oh, how could you look so beautiful? You were showing skin and your beautiful form that he had praised for years, mumbling words against your body about how perfect you were.
Fuck, he couldn’t stop staring.
“Andrew!” Your friend saw him still dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still designer of course, but he still wasn’t dressed in the suit he picked out. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m sorry!” He wiped his eyes quickly as you gasped when Hermione covered your body with her own.
“Get out!” Michaela yells, laughing when she almost trips. “Go!”
Andrew groans dramatically as he walks away, holding back a smile when the door slammed shut. He could hear your laugh, making Andrew look back until Jamie and Charlie walked out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jaime was laughing, his tux tight in his body. “Sneaking into her room, naughty Andrew, aren’t you?”
“She has a present for me,” he grinned, looking over at Charlie. “And I’m going to enjoy it so much.”
After the official wedding, it was time for the grand entrance. For your something old, new, borrowed, and blue, there were a lot of things your bridesmaids gave you, but one of your families gave you the chance to get married where they did as their something ‘borrowed’.
The reception was adults only, especially with everyone else being adults and the fact you and Andrew were always pretty physical. For something new, Florence gave you diamond ear cuffs to accentuate your new diamond and sapphire earrings Michaela had given you for something blue. For something old, Andrew’s mother gave you a diamond and white gold tennis bracelet that had been in their family.
“You ready to go inside, baby? It’s our grand entrance,” Andrew pulled away from your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. His lips were swollen, thankfully un-smeared of lipstick because of the makeup artist Andrew got to make sure you looked absolutely perfect. “And they’ve been waiting for like half an hour because I couldn’t get this dress off for a quickie.”
You only giggle, humming softly with a shrug. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes. You just… your mouth is just perfect.”
He grinned. “Oh, is it? Let me see, show me,” he leaned back on the wall, pushing himself into a wall sit position to lean his head back so that you were taller than him. He opened his mouth wide, watching as you leaned down to lick against his tongue, his hands pulling you closer between his legs. You tilt your head, pulling him closer as you tug his head farther up, desperate to taste him more.
He tasted like mint, fresh and cold as you exhaled into his mouth and stroked his hair. You sucked even harder, groaning before a loud scream made you pull back.
“Y/N, Andrew, get your butts inside!” Florence yelled, her accent filling the room as you laughed.
“We’re coming!”
“I hope not!” Michaela yelled, peeking out from inside the main building. “Come on, let’s go!”
Andrew stood up straight, fixing his white suit as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. You both slowly walked in, cheers and laughter and music filling your ears as Andrew looked over at you while pulling you to the middle of the dance floor. Your song started playing, that perfect, perfect song. You had started listening to it randomly, and whenever Andrew heard it, you both agreed that it would be a perfect wedding song.
We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron fit the two of you. Sometimes you did fight and fall, there were nights filled with sobbing, but as soon as you both saw each other and were pulled into the other's arms; everything went quiet. It went still, soft, the only thing filling the night was each other.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Andrew,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head. “Always and forever. I will be with you forever.”
Andrew inhaled deeply, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Right at the end, there was one last thing that you both had to do. The taking off the garter, it was time.
You sat down in the large cushioned chair that made you feel like a queen, your dress that went out at the waist hiked up as everyone around you both cheered. It was hot, extremely hot temperature wise you were surprised your makeup wasn’t dripping down your face, but it was good.
Andrew must have been hot too, his blazer already off and the tie around his neck gone and the top few buttons already unbuttoned. His face was shiny, sheening with sweat as he kneeled down in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt even lower making everyone cheer. He goes under the poofy skirt of your dress, his tongue shamelessly dragging along your thigh as his hands hold your knees apart and a loud squeal leaves your mouth. Everyone cheers, but your mind was focused on his mouth as he licked against your bare cunt exposed by your lingerie, sucking and rubbing his fingers against your slit. Your hands rush to hold his head through your dress, an uncontrollable giggle leaving your lips as he slides a finger inside of your cunt, easily because he was definitely fingering you earlier in the hall.
It doesn’t change the feeling though, his middle finger thrusting into you knuckle deep and his thumb rubbing around your entrance. Teasing around your entrance with his thumb as his teeth graze down your thigh, teasing the lace and chiffon garter. You hold back a whimper and a moan as he slowly takes a hold of it, pulling out his sticky fingers as he gets down to your ankle, slipping the garter off around your heel before coming out from under your skirt with the garter between his teeth.
Oh you truly couldn’t wait for tonight.
When you and Andrew got home, he was carrying you bridal style like he always wanted to. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, laughing as he kicked the door shut and quickly set the alarm before moving to the stairs. “Andrew. Andrew, baby please, I need you, I need you so bad.”
You had been desperate ever since he finger fucked you while taking off your garter, sneaking away to finish it off while everyone was dancing to fuck you with his long digits in the hallway, effectively making you come undone around his fingers while you begged for more.
He laughed, pressing kisses to your neck as he finally made it up, going straight to your shared room’s closed door. “You need me, love? Yeah? I swear to fucking god I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of the year baby. I’ll fuck you so much you’ll never forget this night, fill you up with so much cum that you’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”
You gasped, making him pause after he opened the door, raising a brow. “Y/N, baby, everything alright?”
You looked back inside the room, smiling when you saw the baby blue bag. “Take me inside!” He quickly does as you say, setting you down as you quickly run to the bag, your bare feet padding along the cold wood floor. “Open it!”
“Baby, is everything alright? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just open it!”
He sighs as he slowly sits down on the bed, your hands already undoing the back of your dress and slipping it off easily because Andrew had untied the main knot earlier. You kneeled in front of him, the only thing covering your body was the lingerie that you had underneath your wedding dress. The sight alone made him get distracted, your eyes wide and waiting for him to open the bag that he had seen earlier, face bare of makeup that you had taken off before you both left the venue.
“Andrew!” You whined, a pout on your swollen lips. “Open it!”
“R-Right,” he looks down at the bag, inhaling deeply as he takes out the tissue paper and you giggle. He slowly takes out the fabric, your face falling when he looks at you confused. “What is it?”
“It’s a onesie, Andrew!” You groaned. “Turn it around!”
He did, jaw falling slack when he saw the blue texts underneath the graphic of a swaddled baby, ‘YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!’
You start to worry when he doesn’t speak, quickly peeking over the onesie to see his eyes red and bloodshot, tears falling down his cheeks. “Oh, Andrew!”
“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was broken, hoarse as you quickly jumped into his chest, hugging him. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a daddy, baby, you’re making me a daddy.”
You smiled widely, tears of relief filling your eyes as you slowly pulled the onesie from his grip and pulled him down to press a kiss to your lips. You groaned loudly as his hands quickly hold your hips, pulling you off of the ground as he stood and turned around, easily laying you on the bed before crawling over your body.
His lips trail over your skin, sucking and biting to leave hickies all over your perfect skin. He groaned loudly as your legs spread automatically for him, sitting back to quickly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, fumbling to slip them off making you giggle. He succeeds after a few minutes, ducking back down to kiss against your tits.
“To think these pretty tits are going to be filled with milk for me soon,” he murmured against your nipples, cupping and squeezing at them making your nipples quickly go hard and your back arch. You whined as he sucked on your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as he stared up at you. “You’re going to be a perfect mommy for our babies, darling, but I think as soon as I taste your milk, I’m gonna keep wanting more.”
You whined as his other hand squeezed at your nipple, flicking with his thumb as he continued to suck and abuse the other, groaning. “Dr-Drew, you’re going to be a perfect daddy, you’re going to be the best daddy ever.”
He groans against your tit, lapping against your perky bud with a wink. “Do you think so, baby? I swear, I’m going to love seeing you round with my baby and tits full of milk. Swear, I’m going to be hard all the fucking time seeing you pregnant with my baby. Think I’m going to like seeing you pregnant.”
You whined loudly, hips bucking as your eyes rolled back when he moved to the other tit. “Andrew, Andrew please!”
“Ah ah baby, I’m a daddy now,” he grinned at you, teasing you. “Think you should call me that now.”
This wasn’t something that happened often, but how could you refuse when he looked so fucking proud of himself? “D-Daddy, daddy please. Please, need you to fuck me. Need to be full of your cum, need to feel your cock inside of me.”
He groaned loudly, leaning up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue swirling around your own. It wasn’t even a kiss, his tongue swirling and shoving down your throat as he guided his cock in between your legs, pushing inside of you and swallowing the loud moan that left your mouth.
“Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good, I swear,” he basically growled against your lips, gasping as your nails dragged down his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re growing my child? Could that be it? You’re making me a daddy, gonna be the perfect fucking mother for our children?”
You nodded, mind blurry as you tried to focus on his voice, but the only thing you could think about was his dick. He was slow at first, his cock not foreign inside of you, but the faster his thrusts got, the more you couldn’t focus. “Yes!” You yelled out, the only thing you could even think about. Yes, I’ll be the perfect mother. Yes, I’ll raise your children, yes, yes, yes.
“Swear baby, if it’s going to make you like this, I’m going to keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” he groans, hips moving faster as your head tilted back, mouth lulled open and moans falling out, but your face was so fucked out it looked like you weren’t thinking of anything else but his cock, not even the words coming out of his mouth. “Look at you, baby. I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me. Are you cock obsessed, baby, dick drunk? Hm?”
Your head lulls, nodding as your nails dig into his shoulders, another orgasm close as you speak. “Yes. Yes, daddy, I’ll be pregnant all the time for you! I’ll stay here, ready to get fucked and bred, pumped full of cum to give you babies!”
It was words fully fueled of lust, the smell of sex in the air and the sounds of skin against skin slapping together echoing off the walls fueling both of your fucked out states. It was fully possible you didn’t even know what you were saying, only thinking about his cock, as you were successful all in your own, but there was the chance where you did know what you were talking about and you would sit here pumping babies out for him every nine months just for him to get you pregnant again and again as soon as you’re cleared.
The thought truly did sound fucking amazing. You both knew damn well he could provide for both of you and all of your children, no matter how many you both chose to have.
“Oh yeah, baby? You gonna be a good fucking cumslut, gonna be bred over and over again? Huh? Gonna keep you fucking pregnant, all while you be the perfect fucking mother for each and every one of our spoiled little brats that are going to fucking praise you like a goddess. Gonna fuck you over and over again, not gonna let any drop of cum spill out, keep all of my sperm inside of you so you can get pregnant over and over. You like that? Do you like the thought of having babies over and over again for me?”
His words easily tipped you over the edge, his cock ramming into you over and over again, fucking you like a fleshlight and using your abused hole to please you. The only thought in your mind was the unrealistic image of cum, his cum, spurting out of your cunt, tummy bulging like you were nine months pregnant just from his sperm and tits leaking breast milk that he would devour every minute of the day if he could.
Even if it was unrealistic, he would make it happen if you asked him to.
“Baby, you already came, you squirted all over my cock. What’s going on in that little fucked out brain of yours, hm? Tell me, it better not be the thought of anything other than my cock,” he grunted as he slammed his hips back into you, his hand pushing between the both of you to rub circles against your puffy clit. His other hand grabbed your chin, wiping the drool running down your chin as he forced you to look at him. “Hey baby, I’m right here. Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking about, tell your daddy what you’re thinking about as his cock fucks you so hard and his cum fills you up. Tell me!”
You screamed out, a broken noise leaving your lips as his thrusts get rougher, harder, his fists squeezing at your tits. “I want to stay pregnant for you, daddy! Want to be leaking with your cum every day, want milk to be inside my titles and for you to drink it every day, don’t care how many babies we have as long as you fuck me and fill me and get me pregnant! Want your babies, daddy, want all your cum!”
He lets out a loud, guttural groan into your neck, his hips faltering as he came inside of you, gasping for air as you pant above him. His hands shakily hold your hips, his lips turning soft against your skin as he rolled his hips gently, your hands stroking his back. You finally came down from your high, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
“I think… two kids is good.”
“Just two? Thought you wanted more,” he teased at first making you giggle, but he smiled gently at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “We can have as many as you want. I don’t care, as long as you’re their mother. You will be the best fucking momma, baby, the best mommy to those kids ever.”
You inhaled shakily, smiling up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And you’re going to be the best daddy. I promise.”
He smiled. “We’ll make amazing parents.”
“We will, Drew. Amazing fucking parents.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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© asterias-record-shop
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hemmingsleclerc · 10 months ago
Text
Love at first drink ┃Andrew Garfield
a/n: I wanted to write something abt andrew bc I love him sm so here it is 🤎
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Within the chaos of New York, Andrew Garfield was captivated by the enchanting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through a quaint little coffee shop in a small area of the big city. It became a daily ritual for him to visit, every morning at the same time without fail, not only for the coffee they sold, but also to visit the lovely girl behind the counter.
Her name was Y/N (he knew it from the small pin she wore on her uniform that said that name, clearly at that moment he didn't have the courage to ask her that) and she had a smile that could light up the room. Andrew couldn't help but be drawn to her warm and welcoming presence. Every day he found excuses to strike up conversations with her, whether it was her talking about the weather, the latest movies, or strangely delicious coffee combinations.
As the days passed, Andrew realized that his visits were no longer just for coffee; They were about Y/N. Every day he anxiously waited to cross the doors of that coffee shop to see her smile, hear her voice even for a short time and touch her hand when he grabbed his coffee.
Andrew discovered that Y/N had a passion for photography and art, a hobby she pursued outside of her job at the café. In the other hand, he had confessed her that they shared the same hobbies and that he had the privilege of working on something similar.
One morning, he decided it would be that day or he would chicken out again, so Andrew mustered up the courage to ask Y/N out on a date.
''Here you go'' she said handing over his coffee with the little note she always left in his cup.
''T-thanks y/n'' he smiled, taking his coffee and walking away from the counter, but in less than 2 minutes he returned.
She was a little surprised to see him again, had she missed something in his order?
Andrew looked into Y/N's eyes and in a nervous voice asked her what he had wanted to ask her for the last two weeks.
''Y/N, you are an amazing girl and I really really like you, could I have the honor of taking you on a date?''
Y/N's eyes widened with surprise, but a warm smile spread across her face. "I would love to, Andrew," she replied.
He smiled, relieved and excited. "However, there is one thing I want to mention," he added, a hint of apprehension in his voice. "I am in the public eye and sometimes people can recognize us. There may be times when someone wants to take photographs and I would like you to know that and keep that in mind, privacy is really not something I can have 100% and if you don't feel comfortable, I would understand that you would reject the date."
Y/N nodded understandingly. "Andrew, I don't care at all. I like you for who you are, not just the actor that people know. I may not get used to it at first but I don't want that to stop me from being able to date the amaizing guy I have infront of me. Let's enjoy our time together, and if photos come our way, we'll handle it together."
With those words, any lingering tension melted away. The couple went later on a lovely date, exploring the city, sharing laughter, and taking funny photos of each other. Y/N's genuine affection for Andrew was evident and her calming presence assured him that their connection was real.
As their relationship deepened, they faced the challenges of public scrutiny together. Y/N's support and understanding made Andrew appreciate her moments even more. Through the ups and downs, they stood by each other, a testament to the power of love that transcends fame and ordinary life.
Having started a relationship did not mean the end of his little ritual before starting his day. Every morning without fail, Andrew continued to go for his daily coffee to the small cafe where Y/N continue working.
And she would receive him with a kiss and his special order along with her little note on his cup.
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reidslovely · 2 years ago
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being academic “rivals” with peter
rivals in quotes because you two obviously like each other but are choosing to hide behind witty banter till one of you builds up the courage to ask the other out
maybe you’re a total perfectionist and never really take breaks so you become really stressed out and finally reach a breaking point and peter is just like ‘baby :(’ and he just holds you + maybe takes somewhere to help you relax
I love this trope..because I am a perfectionist in my work. And though I have never really had an academic rival I do heavily relate to mirrorball by Taylor Swift. Anywho..I think this trope is so perfect for Pete! So picture this...
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Riding the subway home from your last lecture of the day was the most exhausting experience. Your earbuds were shoved uncomfortably in your ears as you stared blankly out of the window watching the tiled walls of the subway speed by. Your professors voice grating against your ear drums, it was almost enough to make you cry.
It actually brought you to tears.
Finals were coming up, and not only were you competing with yourself and your need to be greater you were competing with Peter Parker.
Biochem genius, your academic rival, and your..boyfriend. It's a funny story, a long story but a fun story. Long story short, too many long nights in the lab working against each other turned into long nights working with each other and helping one another gain points against one another.
No matter how much you loved him, and his dumb little face you had to do better on your finals than he would. A very nice vacation was riding on it: if you got the better grade you two would break open your savings and head up to a cute little cabin you'd been wanting to stay at. If Peter got the better grade you were going to spend a week in Vegas..both were a great option but one was more peaceful and less overstimulating than the other. Your head dropped onto your hand for a moment staring at the dunks in front of you. Your eyes looked up at the lanky figure in front of you and Peter stared down, he was obviously picking up on something you weren't. The subway cart came to a jolting holt you scrambled to your feet, grabbing Peters hand as he led you both out of the cart and up the steps. He reached down slowly pulling the earbuds out of your ears.
"Enough of this, relax." Peter says kissing your head softly. He tucked the earphones into your pockets as you neared his apartment. You felt your gut sink, you knew that he had good intentions but it also felt like he wanted you to fail. Once in the apartment you sat on the couch cracking your book open finishing up rewriting your notes the lecture now playing outlaid from your phone. Everything sounded jumbled and like one big sentence, why was this not sticking what was wrong with you? Why couldn't you get your brain to work? "Baby, c'mere." Peter's body weight drops down over the back of the couch, kissing your cheek softly. "Enough you've prepared enough, no more of this. You're burning out." "I'm not.." You deny the tears already building up in your eyes. He climbs over the back of the couch pulling you between his legs. Pushing books off to the table, and turning the lecture off. "I'm backing out of the bet." He says. "It was stupid. I thought it would be fun but it's put to much on you, so here's what we are gonna do." He speaks softly rubbing patterns on your back. You look up at him, tears finally falling. "We are gonna take our final on Friday and on Saturday morning we are driving up to that cabin and you are not gonna lift a finger okay? No studying, no research work, no spider-man things. Just us. Okay? You just have to promise me one thing?"
"Mhm?" You ask wiping your tears away. "You just do your best and show up. Can we do that?" You nod your head slowly resting your head against his chest, he lowered his head kissing your forehead softly. "Besides, I was gonna let you win either way." He laughs, the vibration off his chest bouncing joy into yours causing you to smile.
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fivelakesinwriting · 1 year ago
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would you be up to writing a smut for andrew again? maybe the reader just came back from UTBOH premier (his new show) and seeing him as a dilf just made her need him to put a baby in her
Author's Notes: I actually already had something like this already written! Thank you for requesting. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to - I'm trying to get through old requests when I can! I'm hoping the wait was worth it and that you enjoy xoxo
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drinking, established relationship, talk of pregnancy, smut* (unprotected sex, biting, some spanking)
Requested: Yes, old request!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
Andrew knew that she liked his work, and had been looking forward to this project, but he didn't know she would have this reaction. Especially after he propped her up on the vanity 10 minutes before their town car showed up. He thought he had done a better job at easing her desire a little bit.
"You're so sexy as a Daddy. Fuck, I want your baby so much." She wept in his ear before she sank to her knees in front of him seconds after their hotel room door shut.
"Come back up here. Slow down, little lady. Holy fuck." Andrew breathed out as she unzipped his slacks and reached for his manhood as he tugged her upright again.
"I don't want to go slow. I want to go fast, make a baby. I want to bounce on your thick, beautiful -" She groaned as he covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes narrowed down at her.
"How much champagne did you drink?" Andrew murmured as he pulled his hips back, not letting her rub him over his briefs. He removed his hand from her pouty lips to let her reply.
"One glass. I swear, just the one. I just saw you up on that screen and I just felt something. I know that wasn't the point of the story, and that's wrong of me. But I saw you with those kids and I got stupid." Her eyes were heavy, but not with alcohol, they were heavy like after he'd fuck her into the mattress and she'd ask for one more roll around.
"Stupid?" He repeated softly as he trailed his fingers over her chin down her throat, over the tops of her breasts.
"Yeah. I got that fuzzy headed feeling, but it was less sweet and tender than earlier. I just wanted to rip your clothes off and ride you like an animal. Bite you, lick you, scratch you up and let you cover me in -"
Andrew grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a hot, messy open mouth kiss. He slipped his tongue in her mouth with a moan as he lifted her thigh up around his waist with his other hand. He let her unbutton his shirt as he started his trail of kisses down her throat to her chest.
"You want to go for a little ride, lovey?" Andrew growled as he nipped at her chin, breathing heavily against her lips as she worked her hand into his slacks to palm his stiffness.
"Yes, please. I need you so naked and deep inside of me. Wanna bite you all over." She whispered as she pressed her hand to his full thickness over his briefs.
"What has gotten into you? Fuck." He groaned as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up, carrying her to the bed while she kept her hand in his pants. He dropped her to the bed as carefully as he could before he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tore off his tie.
"Next time." He growled as he balled up his tie and pitched it to the end of the bed.
"You wanna tie me up, baby?" She breathed out as she reached for his belt buckle and tugged him close, legs around his waist.
"More than anything. Wrists behind your back, to the headboard, or wrists tied to your beautiful ankles. But you requested a ride around the world first, lovey. Leave these shoes on for me?" Andrew breathed out as he ran his hands up her smooth legs underneath her dress. His hips were hers as she tugged his belt through the prongs then wrestled his slacks and briefs over his backside.
"Whatever you want. Baby!" She giggled as he crawled into bed and flipped them over. He unzipped her dress, pawing her breasts as she rocked over his hard leaking manhood.
"Take this off, lovey. Oh, so beautiful. And these panties can just be destroyed. We don't need them." Andrew breathed out as he bunched her dress up around her waist then pulled it off her body. He rooted his fingers in her panties and ripped them at the seam, revealing her wet treasure to him.
"Put Him in for me, baby?" She whispered as she pressed down to her hands on the mattress and kissed his cheek, the beard scratching her lips.
"Need my help, lovey? Oh, there we go. Is that good, lovey?" Andrew grunted as he held himself steady and eased inside of her as she bit and nibbled down his scruffy neck. He ran a hand over her hair as he settled inside of her, his breath stuck in his throat as her tight walls clenched around him in the hopes of making him part of her.
"S'good. So full." She whispered into the crease of his neck as she started to rock her hips on top of him.
Once she had adjusted to his size, her little hole stretched to its limit with his thick length, she sat upright and held his shoulders for leverage. She lifted her hips up then down, tantalizingly slow, watching him lick his lips.
"If you're gonna ride like that, put your knees here." Andrew breathed out as he grabbed the backs of her knees and spread them out as far as they could go, letting her clit rub his abs.
"Oh, baby." She gasped, falling back down to her forearms on the mattress at the sensation, pleasure coursing through her body as he hit her gspot and her clit rubbed his stomach.
"Better, yeah? That's my girl." Andrew huffed out as he grabbed her thighs then pawed at her ass cheeks before doling out a firm smack that made her moan. That loud, slutty moan he loved to hear when she really let go for him.
"S'good, lovey? Take what you want, it's fucking yours." He growled as he smacked her ass again then reached for her hair and tugged hard, exposing her neck.
"Do it. I know you want to, Andrew. Bite my neck and fucking claim me." She rasped out as she scratched the nails of her left hand down his chest, red marks across his skin.
Andrew growled from deep, deep in his chest as he surged forward to sink his perfect white teeth into her neck. His girlfriend pressed her nails into his chest, little crescent moon shapes embedded over his heart as she sobbed his name, rolling her hips like a cyclone on top of him.
"Gonna make me cum, lovey. So wild right now. Slow down." Andrew croaked as he pulled his fingers down her back to her hips, trying to cease her movement.
"But you feel so good." She sobbed out as she sat up, running her hands through her hair as she bounced in his lap, her back arched.
"I wanna last longer, make you cum." He groaned as his fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips in a weak attempt to anchor himself.
"S'okay, baby. I'm there with you." She breathed out as she dropped to her forearms on the mattress and pressed her forehead to his, her fingertips running over his bearded jawline.
Andrew wrapped his arms around and flexed his arms into the small of her back as he brought them both over the edge. Her toes curled in her shoes while she pulled his hair, breathing his name in his ear.
"Fuck. I'm definitely fine with doing that over and over again to have a baby." Andrew sighed contently as he released his arms from around her body and rested them over his head.
"I'm so shocked." She grinned as she looked down at him with bright, but tired eyes, her body weak on top of him.
Andrew chuckled as he buried his face in her neck, placing soft kisses down to her shoulder. He rolled them over in the bed, tugging her snuggly against him as he tucked them under the blankets. They fell asleep, both dreaming of their future together and starting a family.
Please let me know what you think - comments and messages are welcome! I hope you all enjoyed xoxo
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