Tumgik
#jeb pyre
blooming-violets · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Saints and Sinners || Under the Banner of Heaven
[Jeb Pyre x fem!Reader]
Summary: Jeb falls prey to his darkest temptations while working a case.
Warnings: adult graphic smut, a cheating fic, heavy LDS religious themes and traumas, brief mentions of the murder of sex workers, light fem!dom/male!sub roles but nothing too crazy, brining it back to the religious trauma stuff - a lot of strong feelings of being trapped in a family/religion you don't feel like you belong in, if you are someone who feels offended with merging religion and sexual themes then this is not the fic for you
Note: "Reader" is nicknamed Daisy as her stage name as a stripper/sex worker. She has no physical descriptions apart from having female anatomy/a human body and wearing a sun dress. She can look however you'd want her to which is what makes her a reader character. Apart from that, she is her own character.
Tumblr media
Jeb Pyre considered himself to be a decently good man. 
He was well groomed. He was respectful. He loved his family. He gave his job 100% and loved his neighbors. 
He was a devout son of the Heavenly Father. 
Or, at least, he used to be. 
He had been hiding his true self for his family's sake. He was trying, but failing, to keep up his appearance of perfection. Every day was a new struggle to keep up his flawless Latter-day smile. Docile and submissive. Never making waves. Never voicing questions. Day after day, trapped in his own mind, slowly being eaten alive by his ever growing doubt. It was only a matter of time before he cracked. 
She was his forbidden fruit. The temptress sent straight from the devil to corrupt his soul. The snake in his garden. 
His latest case had led him straight to her doorstep. There were sex workers in the city being murdered. A killer who vowed to cleanse his city from their filth. Jeb hadn’t even known there were sex workers living in his area. He’d never even seen a strip club before he was forced to step inside one to investigate. It was a terrifying world he wasn’t sure how to navigate. 
She had taken his hand and led him through the darkness. 
Daisy. That’s what she called herself. Her stage name. She had told him it was after Daisy Buchanan. The paragon of perfection for men to lust after but hiding a sardonic, amoral soul. It seemed to fit. She was the kind of woman he’d leave a green light on for but never be able to obtain. He knew her real name for his investigation but she refused to have him call her by such. She claimed only the people who truly loved her were allowed to utter her true name. To everyone else, she was just Daisy. 
He used to believe that all sex workers were women who needed saving. They had lost their way from God. They were impure. Drug addicts. Abused. Lost souls desperate to be saved. 
But she fit none of those roles. 
She was strong and sure. A business woman. A homeowner. She didn’t need a man to provide for her. Everything she owned was achieved through her own tenacity. When he looked at her, he saw someone who truly enjoyed their job. He struggled to wrap his head around that fact. A woman shouldn’t enjoy having sex for a living. She shouldn’t enjoy selling her body to perverted men. She should remain pure and devout until marriage. He often wondered what her future husband would think of her lewd, depraved acts. 
And then he remembered that she never wanted to marry. 
What an absurd thought. A woman with no desire for a husband? Utterly bizarre. 
She was unlike any woman he had ever met and he was tempted by the wickedness of her world. He knew he shouldn’t be. He knew better than to dance with the devil. Yet, here he was. Allowing her to occupy every existing thought in his brain. She was the one he thought about late at night. She was the name he moaned into his pillow in the early hours of the morning while his wife slept beside him. She was the one he dreamed of being able to touch. 
The one thing he couldn’t have, was the one thing he truly coveted. For Jeb Pyre was a sinner. He wasn't a devout man. He didn’t believe in the Heavenly Father. 
And he hated the life he was forced to be living. 
Everything was an act and he was tired of playing his part. 
So, when a killer murdered two of her work acquaintances, and put her in his targets, Jeb decided to personally oversee her protection. After all, she had been such a help to the investigation thus far. He needed to keep his best informant alive. 
Even if that meant risking everything he had to spend the night in her arms.
Tumblr media
Jeb parked his car on the street directly outside of her house. From out here, one would never know what kind of person she was. It looked no different than any other house on the block. He wondered if her neighbors had any idea. He couldn’t imagine if they knew, they would let her stay in the neighborhood without a fight. They’d blame it on the guise of protecting their innocent children from the evil whore but the truth was that they hated anyone who dared to step outside their carefully crafted circle. They hated those different from them. 
But who were her clients then, if not the men who claimed to hate everything about her? 
Everything was a facade. He was so used to hearing people say one thing but act the opposite. The men who would run her from their neighborhood if they knew the truth, were the same men who would cash out their family’s credit card to spend a night with her. Publically, they would denounce her. Privately, they would take whatever they desired from her.
He was no different from them. The perverse thoughts inside his head were just as bad, if not worse. He had seen too much in this job. It had twisted his core. His mind was polluted. He was lusting down paths he could never travel. 
Jeb rapped three, strong knocks on her door. It was later in the evening. He knew she wasn't at the strip club because he had a copy of her schedule in his car glove box. There were other women he had to keep an eye on, too, but she was the one he chose to personally protect. She was the one he feared to lose the most. It was irrational, he knew that. She had no notion of his fantasies keeping him up at night. To her, he was just the lead detective on a case. 
He caught her peeking out the top window of her front door, standing on her tiptoes to reach, and he gave a friendly wave. At least she was smart. She wasn’t opening her door to just anyone. 
He listened to the clicks of two different locks and smiled as she opened to him, “Good evening, ma’am. Detective Jeb Pyre, remember me?” 
She forced a tight smile in return, “Of course I remember you. Do you think I have the memory of a goldfish?” 
He let out a half hearted laugh. She was beautiful but she was scared. Women she had worked with were dying. It was supposed to be his job to keep them safe.
He tried to take a subtle glance down her body. She was wearing a sundress and nothing else. Warm yellow with tiny white flowers dotting the sleek fabric. One of the thin straps was sliding down her shoulder. The dress clung tightly around her torso to highlight her stunning cleavage and flared out over her hips whenever she moved. Women around here never wore clothes like that unless they also donned a buttoned up cardigan and tights. To see her display her body so openly caught his breath in his throat. He had to shift on his feet to readjust himself. He refused to allow her to see how excited his body was reacting to hers.
It was unprofessional. Wrong. 
“Not at all. Do you have a moment to chat?” He asked, doing his best to keep his voice level. 
She gave a sharp inhale, “Is everything okay? Did someone else get hurt?” 
Jeb shook his head, “No, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted…”
What did he want? He wanted to commit a sin. He wanted to see her naked. He wanted to kiss her entire body. He wanted to slide his cock between her beautifully plump lips. He-
He was going to hell. 
“I just wanted to stop in and let you know that I’ll be stationed outside your house for the rest of the night. With everything going on, I thought it would be best to station some people at various hot spots around town to keep an eye on things.” 
Her eyes narrowed, “My house is a hot spot?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Detective Pyre, but I don’t do business out of my own home. No one knows where I live. I use a stage name at work. No one there knows my real name. I’m not a street walker, I’m a stripper who occasionally takes up extra clients in the vip rooms when the money is good enough. My house isn’t a revolving door for men to come and go whenever they please like some brothel. I’ve taken some time off work for the next week to lay low, anyway. A lot of the other girls are doing the same. I think I’ll be alright.” 
Jeb chewed awkwardly on his bottom lip, feeling like he had offended her, “I didn’t mean to imply…anything…” 
This was not going how he intended. He wasn’t used to women talking back to him. He wasn’t sure how to respond. 
“You being stationed out in your car all night, in front of my house, is only going to cause more eyes to look at me. My neighbors already think I’m some crazy heretic for not attending their church. I don’t need them looking further into my life. Thank you for stopping by and offering your support but I don’t need it.” 
As she started to close the door, Jeb stuck his foot between the crack, wincing as it slammed into his shoe. He felt immediate guilt for doing such a strong handed act with her. He just couldn’t bear the thought of being turned away. He couldn’t spend another night laying in a bed next to a wife he no longer loved. 
“I’m sorry,” he quickly added when he saw her look of outrage. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous the man we are hunting is. He could have already followed you home. He probably already knows where you live. I wouldn’t put it past him to break in. I’ve seen it before.” He gave a quiet sigh, nearly begging for her approval. “Please. Let me watch over you tonight. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened while I was supposed to be here.”
Her shoulders dropped in defeat. He watched her peer side to side down the street, taking in her surroundings for anything unusual. 
“Fine,” she huffed. “But do you have to be parked in the street? Can’t you pull your car into my garage so no nosy neighbors will see and spend the night inside? I have a perfectly adequate couch for you to hang out on.” 
Jeb smiled, relieved, “I can do that. Thank you.” 
Tumblr media
He shouldn’t be this excited about being inside her home. 
As he slowly walked through her place, he took note of the items she owned. Her house looked like any others he might enter. There were pictures of her with friends hanging on her refrigerator, a television in the corner of the living room, a brick fireplace with a little ceramic frog on top of the mantle. A cozy, hand knit blanket was draped over the back of the couch. Everything looked normal. He felt stupid for imagining her living inside of sex dungeon. Whatever that might look like. He still had a lot of biases he had to work on.  
She walked into the living room after him with a glass of ice water, offering it to him, “The bathroom is the first door on the left down the hall. My bedroom is the last door. There’s a spare room to the right where I do my step aerobics. I have a basement with some empty rooms down there but I don’t really use them. Then there’s the kitchen and, obviously, living room. The front door and the basement door are the only doors into the house besides the garage. It’s a pretty small house with thin walls so you should be able to hear anything if there’s a break in.” 
Jeb smiled politely in thanks. He knew what he was doing would be considered nefarious in his community. A married man spending the night in a single woman’s home, a stripper, no less, would be the gossip of the town. It wouldn’t matter if he was a detective keeping watch on someone who could be in danger. He was still a man alone with a woman. The first night he was ever alone with his wife was their wedding night. It was no wonder Daisy wanted him to park in the garage so people wouldn’t talk. She probably had a hard enough time as it was. 
“I won’t take up much room,” he said. “I don’t want to be a burden. Only trying to help to keep everyone safe.”
“Isn’t this usually the type of job you give to the rookies?” She asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from the couch. She crossed her legs at the ankles like a respectable lady should and, somehow, she still looked like a seductress doing so. “Does the lead detective usually make overnight house calls?” 
The skirt of her dress was short. It bunched up around her thighs as she sat. He willed himself to only look at her face and keep his eyes from wandering. 
Jeb blushed and perched on the edge of the couch cushion, “We don’t have too many men at the station. I volunteered to lend an extra hand.” 
She leaned back, eyeing him up with a type of bold, observant intelligence he wasn’t used to seeing, “What does your wife think of you spending the night with a whore?” 
He anxiously twirled his wedding band around his finger. She spoke with such brashness it caught him off guard.
“I told her I was spending the night at the office,” he wasn’t sure why he willingly answered so honestly and without hesitation. 
She had that kind of spell over him. He wanted to protect her. Wanted to give her things. Wanted to tell her all his secrets. She was a siren luring him to his destruction and he was willing to sail his ship straight into the rocks if it made her happy.  
A smirk tugged up the corner of her lips, “Ah, I see. So you’re a liar. What else are you lying to her about?”
Jeb choked on the water he was sipping. His eyes widened. 
“I’m not-what-I’m not-” he sputtered out.
She laughed quietly to herself, “Calm down, detective. I was only joking. An LDS man telling his wife a lie? That’s never been heard of before.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. 
He ran the back of his hand over his lips to hide his smile. He liked her. He liked her sass. She didn't care what he thought of her. She wasn’t playing a game like everyone else he knew. It made him want to tell her the truth. Every truth. Everything he had been holding in for the past year. 
He hated his wife. He didn’t just not love her anymore, he despised her. 
Her words had been echoing in his ears for over a year now, “I love you but I can’t struggle through this with you.”
She had left him when he needed her the most. She chose her faith over him. He should have known. He had married her because of how devout she was. Her love for Heavenly Father was what drew him towards her in the first place. Now, it’s what cast him away. 
If he didn’t pretend, Rebecca would take everything from him. She would leave him for nothing if he didn’t keep on impersonating a saintly man. As if they hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together. As if he hadn’t devoted everything to his family. She would rather jump ship than dare to stand by his side when he needed her most. He would have never left her if she had been in his place. He would have held her hand and walked her through her doubts but she couldn’t do the same. Her love was conditional. 
He hated her for that. 
He hated himself for hating her. 
Rebecca’s faith was what kept her moving forward. It was all she ever knew. She lives in the LDS belief that Jeb, with his priesthood, is the one who must usher her through the veil when she passes so she can enter the highest form of heaven. Without him, without his beliefs, she was fucked. 
Jeb smiled to himself. He liked that word. 
Fucked. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
That was his life.
A big fucking lie. A pile of steaming bullshit. 
He had just met Daisy five days ago and she had already pegged him for exactly the kind of man he was. A liar. A stripper knew more about him than his own wife. She could see straight through the fabricated, bullshit act he put on and he had only been inside her home for five minutes. Five fucking minutes and she could already see the depravity leaking out of him. 
God, he was pathetic. 
“I don’t believe in a God,” he blurted out, shocking even himself with the outburst. 
She gave him a few, stunned blinks in response, “...Okay.” 
Jeb cleared his throat, his face heating with embarrassment, “I don’t know where that came from. I deeply apologize.” 
If he was with anyone else, his confession would have been met with gasps of horror. With her, it was nothing more than a passing sentence. 
She was perfect. He wanted her. Badly. That sundress was only working to fuel his indiscretion. 
She leaned her head into the palm of her hand as she rested it on the arm of the chair, “Is this…something you’d like to discuss further, detective? Men seem to enjoy emptying their traumas onto me. I’ve consoled many men over the years. I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.” 
“I-” he stammered, his ear heating up in shame for his actions. “No. I’m sorry. Again.”
She wasn’t his therapist. He didn’t have a therapist. Only crazy people had therapists. And he wasn’t crazy. 
Or maybe he was. 
Life might be easier if he was crazy. 
“I love my wife,” he stated. He only said that to try and convince his brain to stop lusting after the woman he was meant to be protecting. He was here to make sure no one broke in. He was working a case. He was not here to turn to sin. 
She nodded her head, pretending to follow along with whatever obvious breakdown was going on inside his mind, “That’s good. A lot of men love their wives. A lot of men don’t. That’s a part of life.” 
“I love…no…” Jeb sighed. Fuck it. The rant was coming out. He couldn’t stop it. He was already too far gone to keep it repressed any longer. “I don’t love my wife. I hate her. Every time I look at her, all I feel is animosity. I think she’s the dumbest woman I’ve ever met and I know that’s wrong to think. I know that makes me a terrible man. I’m an awful husband. It’s just that she blindly follows whatever the profit says. Whatever a bishop tells her to do, she’d do it without a second thought. They could tell her to get on her knees and suck them off because Heavenly Father commanded it so and she would do it. She doesn’t see anything further than her own nose. She follows and never questions. And, I understand, because I used to be the same. I used to believe because that’s what I was taught to do. Blindly believe. That’s all there ever was. 
“She’s never seen true evil. Not like I have. Because she refuses to look even though it’s all around her. I see it everywhere. She puts on her little Mormon blinders and never dares to take them off. So, she follows. And she makes my girls follow. And she makes me follow or else she will take the girls away from me. I am raising my daughters in a world that hates women. My wife is letting them be preyed upon. She’s happy to let them be squashed into submission. Keep sweet. Pray and obey. Learn to worship your future husband. Never think for yourself.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath, feeling himself losing it. His voice cracked. “If I give up, is there no hope for my daughters? Who will protect them if not me? My wife would marry again, quickly, so she can still get into the celestial kingdom when she dies. She’ll marry someone who won’t waver in their beliefs. Another man would raise my girls. He won’t care about them. Not like I do. They’ll be sold off to the first Mormon boy they fancy. They’ll be married at 18. Never attend college. Never think for themselves. Never get a job. Because I won’t be there to inspire them to reach for more. I’ve seen what kind of men are out there. My daughters won’t be safe unless I play the part my wife created for me.”
He opened his eyes to look over at the woman across from him. Her face was neutral but her eyes were burning with an eagerness to know more. His sudden outburst of lament had stricken something deep inside of her. He had captured her interest like he was a strange bug forced under a microscope that she wanted to dissect. His spiel may have exploded out of nowhere but she was already on board to follow along. She seemed like someone who enjoyed a feisty debate. He needed someone who wouldn’t hold back. 
“You claim your wife is the dumb one, yet, here you are, spewing a load of shit all over my living room,” she mused, giving him a snarky grin. 
Jeb’s jaw dropped. He forced himself to quickly regain his composure and took another swig of cold water. The fire behind her eyes was enticing. He desperately wished his wife could show that kind of passion once in her fucking life. He hated the docile, sweet act. He craved raging forest fires not babbling brooks. He licked his lips, ready to swallow anything she threw back at him. This is what he wanted. Someone to argue with. Someone he could express himself with without fear of rejection. He wanted this fierce lioness to eat him alive. 
He just wanted something that felt real for once. 
She stood up to pace around the room in front of him while she spoke, “Do you realize your wife is like that because she knows nothing else? That is her way of survival. She chooses to believe instead of question because questioning is terrifying. Questioning means losing everything and everyone you’ve ever loved. Your entire world crumbles under your feet if you dare to question. Want to ask me how I know?” She stopped her aggravated pacing to shoot him a look of annoyance. “You’re a man. You have so many options still available should you fumble. If she were to question her faith, she would lose her family. Her mother, father, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. She loses them all. And then she is left with what, exactly? I doubt your wife works? Does she have her own career? Skill sets? Does she have her own income? Does she have her own car? Bank account? She dares to question, she is left with nothing. But you know that already. Obviously. Because you are just as scared to speak your truths out loud. You’re no better than her.”
She stopped momentarily to catch her breath, flipping a strand of hair from off her forehead. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her hips swayed when she walked. He adored her temper. It felt so natural. Real. She wasn’t holding herself back to placate him. She acted on her own accord without worrying about how others perceived her. 
He wanted to toss her onto this couch and take her right here. He could only half listen to her rant through his ever growing desires. 
“How do you know your wife doesn’t think the same thoughts as you? How do you know she doesn’t hide her truths locked up deep inside her mind and never dares to speak them? It’s fine to voice your opinions when you’re in the safety of my house. To you, I am nothing, I’m just a stripper. A prostitute. Hooker. Harlot. Whore. Whatever you want to call me. I pose no threat to you because, to you, I am so far below you that my voice does not matter. You feel safe to speak freely inside these walls because you face no real consequences here. You’ve seen evil? Well I’ve lived evil. You’re here because of the evil that wants to be inflicted upon me. Because I think differently from you. Because I use my body as a tool. Because I don’t subscribe to your values. Someone out there thinks I deserve death simply because I exist in a way he doesn’t approve of. You want to blame your wife for your problems. Blame yourself because you’re no better than her. You’re all a part of the same system.” 
Jeb sat there in silence. The condensation from the glass of ice water clutched in his hand dripped down his wrist. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he took it all in. He was torn between fully digesting her words and imagining her naked, writhing body under him as he dragged the ice cube from his glass down her stomach. 
“I don’t,” he whispered. “I don’t think you’re a whore.” 
He didn’t even like saying that word out loud. He felt a dark cloud of shame rain down around him. But was she wrong?  
He had never imagined his wife in the scenario currently playing in his head. He saw Daisy as a sex object willing to be exploited to his darkest temptations.  
She stopped in front of him. She placed her finger under his chin and lifted his head up to look at her. His wide, pleading, brown eyes took her in, silently begging for some kind of clarity to fix his entire life.
“Tell me what you think of me, detective. Tell me the truth. When you look at me, what is it you truly see?” She murmured down at him. “Why are you really here? It’s not to discuss your lapse of faith, or your wife, and it’s not to keep me safe. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me what it is you truly want? Don’t you lie to me.”
The way his world saw it, Rebecca was pure, because she had remained a virgin until marriage. She lived and breathed by the Book of Mormon. Daisy was a condemned sinner, because she sold her body for sex. She was beyond saving. Even the outfit she wore was considered taboo. Modest clothing was the foundation stone to sustaining abstinence. She was the sinner. 
But so was he. 
Jeb was no saint despite the role he was trying to play. 
He took a deep breath and recited the scripture, “He that looketh on a woman to lust after her, or if any shall commit adultery in their hearts, they shall not have the Spirit, but shall deny the faith and shall fear.”
Her eyes flicked with curiosity and a smile tugged at her lips. She caressed her thumb over his cheek, “You lust, Jeb Pyre? For me?”
He licked his drying lips, gently pushing her hand away from his face, “Yes.” 
She nodded, knowingly, “You don’t know what you want. Your mind is in one place but your actions keep you in another. I am not the answer to your problems. Many men have tried but all have failed. The answer is never found between the legs of a whore. Unless, that is, what you say is true and you don’t think of me that way. Something tells me, though, that you’re lying to us both.” She gave him a wink, turning on her heels with her dress spinning out around her, and swayed down the hallway towards her bedroom. “Have a good night on the couch, detective. I’ll be retiring to my bedroom should you decide you need me.” 
She let those last few words linger in the air, the weight of them settling down around him, as the door closed behind her.
Tumblr media
The cuckoo clock hanging on her wall let him know that midnight was here. The sudden sound breaking the peaceful silence had caused him to jump up from his spot on the couch and reach for the gun at his hip. Jeb rolled his eyes in the clock's direction and lowered his hands back to his side. He might still have some residual PTSD from his former cases…  
Her house was dark and quiet. 
He liked it that way. Sometimes he missed the quiet. She hadn’t left her bedroom since she entered. Without her in his sights, he could better attempt to control his impulses. He was too weak to be trusted around her. If she hadn’t left when she did, he would have given in. It had taken everything in him to not follow her blindly into that bedroom like a dog on a leash. 
Jeb ran a ragged hand over his face. He wasn’t tired. Late nights were where he thrived best. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. She’d awoken his mind in a way he thirsted for. Even just being in her house, prowling silently down her hallway, gave him a thrill. He felt like a naughty school boy getting into mischief after class. He longed to feel something more. His life was full of boredom and she offered him the keys to adventure. He longed to find solace in the arms of a stripper. 
A soft light illuminated from under her door to let him know that she was still awake down there. He wondered what she was doing hidden away out of his sight. She had invited him to join her. She had invited him to relish in his sins. It would be a line that, once he crossed, he would never be able to erase. The second he gave in to her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He was already past the point of saving. One little push was all it would take for him to delve into the madness. That glowing light under her door beckoned him to her like the light of God calling him home.  
He slipped into her bathroom instead. 
He ran cold water out of her orchid pink sink to splash over his heated face. His eyes sought his reflection in the mirror to stare deeply into his own battered soul. This was his crossroads. Whichever path he took would alter the rest of his life. He had already committed adultery in his mind. It was now the act to see if his body would follow or not. 
The sight of a black and golden lipstick sitting on the edge of her sink caught his eye. Jeb reached for it, popping off the cap, and twisting it up. A deep, berry red. A color housewives wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. He brushed his thumb over the top to coat his skin with the color of her lips. The bottom of the stick was engraved with the name of the shade. Walk of Shame. He smiled a wicked smile to himself. 
He knew what road he was going to take. He would take that walk of shame. 
Jeb placed the stick back where he found it. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger, mulling over his decision, then carefully plucked it off his body. He placed the ring around the lipstick, listening to it rattle against the ceramic sink, and gave a long, soft sigh. A weight had been lifted from him. He quickly exited the bathroom and allowed his feet to lead him straight to her door. He stood outside, silent, listening. 
Soft moans floated under the door. Little whines. Whimpers. 
His eyes slipped closed and his lips parted. He knew those sounds. She was putting on a show for him. All he had to do was raise the curtain and let her perform. His hand hovered over her door knob. 
It was okay. She had invited him in. 
“-should you need me.”
He needed her. He hadn’t engaged in sex with his wife in over eight months. He needed her now more than ever. 
He slowly and silently turned the knob. Inch by inch. Until he was able to push open the door. Just a crack. Just enough to peek through. He had to make sure she was safe behind those walls. After all, that was his job. 
She laid across the bottom of her mattress. Her sundress was gathered around her hips. Her legs were parted wide, aimed straight at the door, as if she knew he would show up. He was that predictable. Through her half closed, dreamy lids, her long, elegant fingers drew delicate circles through her glistening flower. His breath caught in his throat when he watched her dip a finger deep inside of her. His cock sprang to life, begging to be touched, pushing at the loose fabric of his dark gray suit pants. 
He should close the door. He should leave. 
This was wrong. He needed to repent. 
“I see you watching me, detective,” she whispered to him as he hid away in the dark hallway, lurking in the shadows like a predator. She let out a soft whine, dragging her soaked finger in circles around her clit. “I know you’re there.” 
Jeb swallowed. She was the devil. A demon. He had no power over her. Heat flushed through his veins. His breath was already coming out in heavy pants. He was chained to the doorway, captivated by her seduction. He couldn’t move away even if he wanted to. 
“Have you ever seen a woman masturbate, Brother Pyre?” She moaned. “Have you ever seen a woman touch herself like this?” 
His fingers wrapped around the edge of the door, gripping tightly onto the wood for support. No. He hadn’t. It would shock him if he found out his wife secretly masturbated in private. She was so well behaved. Masturbation was a sin. She would never dare allow anyone else besides him to touch her, not even herself. 
“Do you like to watch me?” She whimpered, sinking her finger back inside of her. “I was hoping you would come. I know you, detective. I see through you. Your mind is just as perverted as the rest of us. You want to give in. You want to taste what is forbidden to you. It’s okay. I won’t tell.” 
She looked hotly up into his eyes, staring straight into his corrupted soul. He was too weak. He had no resolve. The devil looked too appetizing. The sins of the flesh were tempting him forward as he let the door push open to reveal himself in all his shame. 
She gave him a warm smile, taking in the sight of the bulge below his belt. Her fingers swept through her folds, slippery with her arousal. With the expertise of someone with diligent practice, she used two fingers to part the outer petals of her womanhood to reveal to him the hot, sinking abyss he craved to explore. 
Enraptured, he could not tear his eyes from the slender digit plunging into her soaking depths. His mouth opened and closed, silently, begging to seek a taste of such a treasure. He watched in a starving trance as she anointed her needy pearl, bathing it in her honey, tending to it like a precious garden. Her eyes locked with his, burning, tempting him to join her in her display of debauchery. 
Oh, lord, he was tempted. 
Through heavy, ragged breaths she spoke, “Watch me, detective. Gaze upon the kind of life you were kept from. Look at what you could have been given. See what you missed out on.” 
He was watching. His eyes were padlocked to her dancing fingers. She was beautiful. His heart sought to hold her in his arms while he touched her with a wild abandon. 
“Do you like what you see, Jeb?” She moaned out his name extra low and tantalizing. 
He almost came in his pants at the sound of his name in her mouth. A shudder ran through his tightly wound body. 
“Answer me!” She demanded from him.
He gasped, “Yes.” 
A smile spread across her lips, “Good boy. Men like you work so hard, don’t they? You give and give and give but who ever takes care of you? Let yourself relax, detective. Let yourself give in. Let me care for you. Let someone else take control for once.”
Her eyes closed, lost in the rhythmic tones of her own words, casting her enchantment over them both. She had known he would come seek her out. She had known he would watch. She wanted him here. All he craved was to feel wanted again. 
He took a tentative step into her bedroom, closing the door behind him, and sealing his fate with the click of the lock. 
“That’s it, baby,” she cooed. “Come a little closer. Take a look at your new toy. All for you.”
Jeb held his breath, shuffling slowly forward a few more paces. His heart was racing. His skin was on fire. His mind was made up. 
“Why don’t you let Daisy see what her Gatsby is working with, hmm? Take your belt off. Unzip your pants. Show me.” It wasn’t a request but a demand. 
He swallowed, his nerves sending him into a frenzy, as he undid his belt, lost in her trance. His eyes stayed glued to her hypnotic fingers casting circles of magic around her clit. Subconsciously, his tongue dated out to lick his lips, desperate for a taste. 
His hot, heavy cock fell out into the palm of his hand. He listened to her sharp inhale at the sight. It was followed by a purr of approval. 
“I want you to touch yourself but keep your eyes on my pussy, detective. Watch what I’m doing. Watch how wet you’re making me. Listen.” Two fingers sunk into her, squelching and sloppy, as she pumped them in and out. 
His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sound and a growl rumbled in the back of his throat. With the tip of his thumb, still stained with her lipstick, he smeared around his own wetness leaking from his tip. He worked it down his shaft, slowly pumping himself through his fist. 
“I’ve been dreaming of this moment since the day I met you,” she breathed, keeping him in her watchful sights, each of them working to build their own pleasure. “I saw you then like I see you now. A lost man in need of guidance. I dreamed of you touching me. That first day, when you called me into your office. I imagined spreading my legs for you as I sat on top of your desk, throwing papers to the floor, while you ate me out in front of the large window. I dreamed of you finding me at my work, paying extra to take me to the back rooms, making me suck your cock while you grabbed my hair and prayed to your pathetic God.” He wanted to eat that arrogant smirk straight off her face. “You like watching me, don’t you, pretty boy? You like hiding here, away from the world, where only you and I can bear witness to the blasphemy of your true self. Show me who you really are.” 
He whimpered, tugging on his cock a little harder. He was a sinner. An adulterer. A pervert. A heretic. A liar. 
“Tell me what you want to do to me, detective? Tell me all the ways you’ve dreamed of fucking me while you slept next to your frigid wife.” 
Jeb stuttered over his words, trying to force them out his tightening throat, “I’ve-I’ve…dreamt of dragging you to temple, b-bending you over the sacrament table, and fucking you in front of the congregation so they could all see what kind of dirty whore you are.” 
Tears pricked in his eyes as the shame battled it out with the unbridled lust. He had never spoken like that in his life. A sense of vitality flowed through him. It made his cock twitch in his hand and he stroked it more fervently. 
She licked her lips, letting out a light, amused laugh, “Such a naughty boy, detective. I know there’s more darkness in you. I want to hear it all. What else do you dream of?” 
“Taking you into my home. F-fucking you-” he stumbled over the word “fucking” as it still felt so forgein on his lips to openly talk this dirty. “In my bed. On my wife’s side. Forcing her to watch while I make you unravel on my tongue. Showing her exactly what she is missing out on. Showing her what kind of man I could be if she’d only open herself up to experiment more.”
He couldn’t believe the filth he was allowing himself to admit. These were his private thoughts. They were never meant to be exposed to anyone. She had that effect on him. His skull was cracked open and his most shameless self was laid bare. 
“You’re poor, poor wife,” she mewled. “She deserves to have someone tend to her needs, too. I know she wants it. All women do. You’ve just never pushed her far enough because you’re weak, Jeb Pyre.” She removed her fingers from her pussy and sat up, letting her dress fall back over her hips. She stared him down with her possessive gaze. “Get on your knees,” she ordered. 
He didn’t even hesitate. He released his hand from his cock and knelt down before her. She slowly got to her feet to take a stand directly in front of him. She was so close he could smell her sex clinging to her skin. 
“Men like you are always searching for something to worship.You told me you don’t believe in God. You told me you’ve lost your way. You have nothing to hold onto.” She trailed her finger, still glistening with her slick, over his bottom lip. “If you’ve lost your God then worship me instead. I’m your new God now, detective. Open your mouth and worship me. Cleanse my fingers with your tongue.” 
His lips parted and she slipped two fingers over his tongue. He closed around her, bathing her clean, tasting the remnants of her devine pussy. She slid her fingers down his throat causing him to gag. 
“Good boy,” she murmured her praises to him. “Sing me your devotions. Relax your throat. Soften your tongue. Take it like a man.” 
Jeb reached up to gently take hold of her wrist. He showered her hand in soft kisses, trailing up her arm and back down again, lapping at the tips of her fingers with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth, moaning as she glided down his throat. 
“Look at how hard you are. Desperate to be touched. Desperate to follow directions. Desperate to pray to anything that will have you.” 
She jerked her hand away from him, leaving him feeling empty and cold. She grabbed his chin in her grasp. Her nails dug into his cheeks. 
“Who’s your God, Jeb Pyre?” She asked. 
“You,” he replied. 
“Prove it. Pray at your altar.”
She lifted the skirt of her dress to expose herself to him. Her foot rested on the edge of the mattress so he could get an eye to eye look with his new lifeline. Jeb let out a shaky breath. His hands extended to wrap around her waist, drawing himself closer to her. He tilted his head to bring his quivering breaths to her heated core. She draped the hem of her dress over his head to curtain him the darkness where he belonged. In the dark, he could worship in secrecy.
His head pushed between her thighs to force her legs to widen for him. Her salty musk filled his senses, hooking him in like a drug. His eyes slipped closed at the first taste of the almighty. She was the bread of life. Honey flowed from the darkness and he relished in every drop. His tongue probed at her entrance, burying between her warmth, reaching deeper depths with lapping rolls. Teasing. Tantalizing. Tasting. He suckled at her clitoris, nibbling softly at the sensitive flesh, swirling her with his tongue. The sounds of her coos were all the praises he craved. He didn’t need practice to know how to please her. Surrendering to her was as natural to him as breathing. 
“A virtuous woman is the crown to her husband,” she moaned, quoting the scripture. “And, yet, your sinning whore is the one who sits upon your head like a crown.”
He shivered at the debauchery of her words. He smiled against her pussy and took his time to savor his meal. She was a blessing bestowed upon him. A crown upon his head. His tongue thrust up inside of her, fucking her slowly and tenderly. He tightened his grip around her waist to hold her closer, a desperate man clinging to his lifesaver, moaning against her heated skin. The way she ground herself against him, thrusting herself deeper against his tongue, was enough to trigger his own needs. He humped his hips into the air, thrusting into nothing. 
“Oh, sweet thing,” she hummed. “Is my favorite detective in need of some more attention? When was the last time you’ve had that gorgeously thick cock buried inside someone’s cunt?” 
He whimpered, not letting up on his assault of her pussy, and clung tightly onto her waist. Eight months. Eight torturous months. 
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice thick with lust from trying to control her building orgasm. “I’ll take good care of you. I don’t want you getting too drunk off my pussy. Can’t have you completely let go before I’ve had my fun. Come here.” 
She slid out from his grasp by pulling herself up onto the mattress. Her eyes were glazed over with a needy passion. Glassy and wet. 
“Take your pants off,” she ordered. “I want to see you fully.” 
They were already half way down his thighs. With a little push, they pooled around his ankles, pulled down quickly by the weight of his gun belt. He kicked off his nice dress shoes and stepped out of his pants to leave only his temple garments. 
She smirked at the sight and hopped off the bed to take a step closer. Her hand wrapped around his tie to pull him down to her level. Her lips trailed over his as his eyes fluttered close. She glided her tongue across his lips, cleaning herself from them, with a gentle hum of approval. 
“Who tastes better? Me or your wife?” She asked. 
Jeb flustered in her question, “I-I wouldn’t know. She won’t let me. She believes it’s a form of sexual transgression.”
“Did you think about her?” She questioned. “When your tongue was buried inside of me, did she ever cross your mind?”
Guilt filled him, “Not once.”
She smiled, releasing his tie from her grasp, and began to work on extracting him from his perfectly crisp, white button up until he was left in nothing but his sacred garments. 
She slowly eyed him up and down, “Keep the top on. I want you to remember exactly what your betraying as you fuck me.” 
She sank to her knees, pulling down his underwear with her. His cock sat against his left thigh, hard and in need of attention. Her nails dragged along his sensitive, delicate skin. When she reached the tip of his cock, she carefully pushed a nail into the soft flesh while he hissed in pain. She left a crescent moon imprint behind which she quickly leaned down to kiss better. It was her harsh reminder that even if she was on her knees for him, she was still the one calling the shots.
He quite liked how the pain made him feel but he was too nervous to ask for more.
Her throat relaxed as she slipped him between her lips. He skimmed over her warm tongue with little jerking movements from his hips to push himself deeper into her. He wanted to reach out and grab her hair but was afraid to touch her. Instead, he balled his hands up at his side, digging his nails into his palm to try and elicit a bit more pain. It wasn’t the same as when she inflicted it. 
Her head bobbed with an expertise that could only be brought from years of practice. It made his own oral skills seem novice and weak in comparison. His head leaned back as he stared at the ceiling, looking straight through it, and up into the heavens. There was no celestial kingdom up there. There was no God looking down on him. His heaven was right here in this room. His God was on her knees with her lips wrapped around his cock. This was the true meaning of life.
Jeb moaned out her name. Not Daisy. Not her stage name. Her real name. The one he kept locked up in a file in his desk. The name he would slowly stroke his finger over as he spent his late nights searching through his notes. The name only people who loved her were allowed to use. 
She froze. 
His cock fell from her lips and she stared up at him with a playful vengeance. 
“What was that, detective?” She asked, her voice low and dangerous, but hiding an impish undertone. “I know I didn’t hear what I think I just did.”
He ran a hand over his face, too overwhelmed to be thinking straight, “Daisy. I meant Daisy.”
“You think you know me?” She got to her feet, wiping her bottom lip with her thumb. “You think you know the real me? Because I know the real you, Jeb, but do you know me?”
A heated red tint blushed across his cheeks, “I…don’t know…” 
“Of course you don’t. Are you ever sure about anything in your life?” She raised a curious eyebrow at him. “I’m sure of most things that I do and say and believe. Can you say the same?”
He shook his head, “No. I can’t.”
She flashed him a poignant smile, “Name one thing you are 100% sure of right this very second.” 
Jeb licked his lips. He knew.
“I am certain that I want to kiss you. Certain that I want to tear that dress from your body. And I’m certain that I want to throw you over this bed and fuck you like you deserve.” 
“Then let go, detective. Give in. Become the animal you’ve always repressed. What are you waiting for?”
It was all the release he needed. 
His fingers wrapped around her wrist to drag her against his body. His lips crashed down onto hers as he held her in his arms with a steellike grip. She didn’t kiss him back, so much as, surrendered her mouth to him. Her body went nearly limp and he kept her on her feet with his own strength. Her surrender brought forth a rush of devoted emotions and blind, sexual desire turning him into the beast he longed to become. He seized at her hair, tugging, pulling, wildly gripping, and attacked her mouth like it was the holy spirit he sought to believe in. She shuddered before his onslaught and melted into him. The more he reached for, the more he stole, the more she wanted it. She was driving him insane with an unrestrained passion of pure lust. He pitied any man who didn’t fall to his knees to worship her like the goddess she was. Her mouth was a sin that he wanted to violate. 
Jeb violently grabbed at the straps of her sundress, nearly ripping them off, as he tore them down her body. The dress thumped to the floor to leave her completely naked and exposed. She didn’t flinch away. She didn’t try to hide and play with her coy modesty. She stood proudly before him exactly how a goddess should hold herself before a mortal man. 
He slid his hands up her sides, grazing over the swell of her breasts, feasting on them with his eyes. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, pinching and flicking, while he attacked her mouth once more. She parted her lips to submit his tongue into her depths, sucking on it and twirling it around her mouth. Whenever he pinched her gorgeous nipples between his fingers, she would let out the most delicious moan and thrust her chest against his palms. His heart was racing with a pace that might kill him if he didn’t force himself to breath. His head was spinning in a dizzying whirlwind of thrill. 
Jeb sank down and lowered his head to capture her nipple between his teeth, lashing at it with his tongue, listening to the gospel choir of whimpering moans coming out of her. She had shoved her nail into the head of his cock so he took a mouthful of her flesh, just under her beautifully darkened areola, and bit down hard. He had never bitten his wife in his life. He liked the way it felt as he tumbled deeper into his own carnal depravity. He wanted to defile her body and join her in their mutual corruption. 
She arched her back, letting out a gasping shriek and letting it tumble down into a slurry of cooing whimpers, “Oh, Jeb. Yes. Yes.” 
A circle of intended teeth marks, glistening with his saliva, shone proudly back at him. He liked marking her skin, claiming her as his own. It felt animalistic. Primal. A growl ripped from his throat, he was sick with lust, feverish and sweaty, panting with need. He grabbed at her hips and spun her around, pushing his hand between her shoulder blades to shove her face first into the mattress. Her ankles spread wide to allow him to have easy access. 
He took a stumbling step back to admire the sight. Her pussy was glistening and spread open in wait for him. Beads of sweat dotted along her back down her spine. Her ass was sticking upwards, parted, so he could see her tight, little hole. She looked more ready to be fucked than anyone he’d ever seen. His wife had never presented herself to him like this. He imagined her splayed out in this same position and gave a breathless laugh. He could hardly even create a mental picture in his mind, it was so improbable. 
“Something funny back there, asshole?” 
Jeb gave a dark laugh in response, “Just the neverending joke that is my life.” 
He lined the head of his cock up to her pussy, coating the tip in her slick, and bumping it back and forth over her clit. 
Murder. Denying the Holy Spirit. Adultery. 
Three of the worst things a good Mormon man could ever commit.
He’d already knocked denying the holy spirit off his list…might as well add another. 
He sunk his cock into her. Steady and true. She let out an exhale and he watched her head tilt back to enjoy the sensation. So hot. So tight. Perfection. She was here to be fucked. Here to take his cock.
“That’s it,” he breathed. 
He felt no shame. It was unusual for a Mormon not to feel shame but, tonight, buried balls deep in this woman, he felt nothing but relief. This was everything his body needed. He wanted fast and rough. He wanted to take her from behind with a feral abandon. He wanted to do all the things he wasn’t allowed to do until he was gripped with satisfaction. 
Jeb grabbed her hips for leverage and began his awakening. Tonight, he was becoming a new man. He fucked her with quick, short thrusts that slammed into her. Her ass slapped against his stomach with each pound. She filled the room with the sounds of her gasps and erotic moans. Depending on how hard he rammed into her, she’d even let out little shrieks. He liked those sounds best. They made him fuck her harder, dragging out his full length, then smacking back into her. Possessing her body. Over and over and over.
He didn’t even care that he wasn’t wearing a condom. Those were problems for later Jeb. Present Jeb had everything he could ever need. 
Sweat dripped down his forehead. Ragged, heavy, heaving breaths tumbled from his lips. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her upwards, so he could feel her body against his. She arched her back with her head rolling against his. He inhaled the scent of her hair fusing with the musk of their sex. He fumbled his hands around to capture her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, her rock hard nipples dragging across his palm. She reached an arm around the side of his head to hold her steady from the onslaught of vigor his hips were causing her. 
“Oh, fuck, Jeb!” She cried. “You needed this, baby. You needed this to happen. Let go. Let it all out. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t hold back.”
Jeb whimpered out a sob in response, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. All he wanted was someone to listen, someone to take care of him, someone to understand. 
He tumbled them both against the side of the mattress, falling on top of her. Her head turned, leaning against the covers, so he could shower the side of her face with wet, tear stained kisses. He nibbled on her earlobe, lapped his tongue at the corner of her lips, and dragged his teeth along the edge of her jaw. She was made to be devoured. His hips hammered with an agonizing precision into her heat. They were trapped in a hurricane, holding onto each other for dear life, as the maelstrom of building emotions swept them away. 
He could feel her clenching down around him. He knew she was close. He was, too, but he wanted her to cum first. His goddess deserved to reach euphoria before he did. His hand slipped down her side and wedged itself between her hips and the mattress to find a home between the slick fire of her lips. She whined, bucking her hips, the moment he found her clit, tormenting it with his fingers. 
“Cum for me,” his raspy, lust drunk voice growled in her ear. “Let me feel you unravel on my cock.”
Her body shook. Waves rippled over her skin with each hard pound of his cock into her. He could feel her tightening. Clenching. Gripping. A mangled yelp tore from her throat. When she orgasmed, she gave him everything. Her entire body surrendered to him. It burst from her with everything she could give. Her eyes widened, her mouth parted in a silent shriek, her spine arched. Like a demon possessing her body, she writhed under him with jerking, frantic thrusts. He wrapped his arms around her, collecting her tightly against him, to try and hold her together so she didn’t combust into the flames of Hell. 
He let out a whimper as he desperately tried to hold off his own orgasm. He wanted to let her ride out her ecstasy on cock without him cumming inside of her. 
Her legs gave out and she sunk onto her knees, letting him slip out of her, “I got you, baby. I’wan’taste you. Use me.” 
Without missing a beat, she ushered him straight out of her pussy and into her wet, waiting mouth. His eyes closed as his head fell back. He let out a long, drawn out moan. His hand found her hair, no longer feeling nervous to touch her or manipulate her how he pleased. He helped push her forward to take more and more of him. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 
She let him slide down her throat, relishing his cock with her tongue, tasting herself on his tender flesh. He balled a fistful of her hair into his grasp. 
“I’m-I’m-I” he stuttered out, not able to finish the sentence, but she got to the hint. 
Her pace quickened. Her suction around him tightened. He felt himself tense up before an explosion of dopamine flooded his brain with a loud cry of pleasure. 
She straightened her back, moaning softly, as she swallowed down the hot spurts of his semen. Her fisted hand continued to massage his shaft while her mouth tended diligently to his crown. 
Jeb’s mouth hung open, tears flowed freely down his face, and he eventually managed to stumble backwards away from her. He crashed into the back wall and slid down to his ass, shaking. 
She crawled across the floor to drape herself into his lap. His arms snaked around her, thankful for having something to hold onto. His mind felt like he was floating away. His body felt amazing but his emotions were in turmoil. She stroked her fingers through his hair and left soft kisses along his neck. 
He had done it. There was no going back now. 
“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured against his sweat stained skin, as if reading his mind. “You did what you had to do. Sometimes your body knows better than your brain. It was telling you what it needed. It’s just like taking a spoonful of medicine to fight off a cold. There are times when you need to give in and give your body what it craves.” 
He craved her. Daisy. And everything that she represented. Even at this moment, after he had already had her, after he had given in, he should be feeling horror, disgust, shame, but he only wanted more of her. That’s why the tears were freely flowing. Not because he was humiliated by his sins but because he wanted more. 
This was the life he wanted to live. He had gotten a taste, a spoonful, of the other side. A side he could never have. A side he would always be reaching for but never able to obtain due to the religion he was trapped in. His priorities had to remain elsewhere. He had family to care for. Children to raise. He was their only hope for a different future. He would never allow Rebecca to take his kids from him. He would do whatever he needed to keep her docile and oblivious. He could save his children from the inside, even if that meant selling his soul to a God he didn’t believe in. 
Everything was so clear to him now. There was no more confusion. No more doubt. 
Daisy and his green light. 
The inability to ever reach what he truly desired. 
Tumblr media
A/N: If you dare to ask me to write a part two and you don't reblog detailing in great detail everything you liked and enjoyed about this story, then I will curse your entire family and block you. No one gets to ask for a part two without doing their damn part and reblogging first xoxo
Tagging some people who seemed like they might be interested in this smutty lil fic: @moonyslove78 @raindropsandteaandtears @withahappyrefrain @lxinesux @liz-allyn (i dont care if youre hardly on tumblr anymore liz i will tag you in everything i do until the end of time deal with it)
39 notes · View notes
moonyslove78 · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The way this man always goes for the face hold during passionate kisses just— 🫠
This has got to be one of my biggest weaknesses! And when it’s AG it’s an even bigger weakness! 🥺😩
111 notes · View notes
willowhaired · 6 months
Text
Fresh Start
Jeb Pyre × Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: After shutting the case of the Lafferty brothers, Jeb finds it difficult to find his place in the church - so much so that he divorces his wife and starts anew in Boulder, Colorado. What he didn't expect was a pretty evidence handler at the Boulder PD.
(Please note that in this story Jeb has no children.)
Word count: 3,381
Warnings: mentions of religion, swearing, a bit steamy but nothing explicit
After shutting the case, Jeb tried his best to re-integrate into his community. To at least "sing the song", even if he no longer believed the words, as his partner suggested - but he was still eyed with suspicion and the forceful kindness of his fellow churchgoers became sickening. He felt as if he was tested, and they pressured him into recanting his beliefs at every opportunity. It was the worst with his wife who got him promising he'd stay faithful to the church whenever she felt uneasy, which was more often than he liked. He could see her mind turn whenever they were in the same room as if he was under constant surveillance. It angered him, but he knew showing it would throw him into a pit even deeper.
Things in the bedroom were terrible. Beca was insistent on conceiving, and he didn't blame her for it. He knew what it meant to her. Still, he was growing tired of having sex - a thing which he'd never thought was possible for a man. Somehow, whatever trick or new lingerie his wife would try just made him desire her even less. Whenever he couldn't perform, he'd blame it on work, but that opened a whole can of worms he didn't want to talk about. Arguments were frequent and even calm days were disturbed at least by a quarrel.
He got out when his mother passed. By then, the tension was palpable, not only in his marriage, but in the church. Eyes were even wider and glued to him - they expected him to turn to his faith in a time of need as such.
But he finally felt free. He divorced his wife, leaving her in shame, and the bishop was quick to retaliate by excommunicating him.
He was finally free.
He moved to Boulder, Colorado, to escape his own home, the cocoon. It was only natural that Taba followed him.
'You could stay, you know?' Jeb said one day as they were having lunch together. He bought fries.
'And be left in the snake pit alone? Not a chance.'
It made Jeb smile. He'd never conceal the amount of relief this gave him. Because he was afraid. As much as he wanted to get out, the newness of the "outside world" scared him. To have his friend by his side on this new journey gave him hope.
They both got a job at the Boulder Police Department and Jeb quickly became a favourite among his superiors and fellow officers. With no family and a pain to drown, he was always first to apply for night shifts, weekends, especially holidays. He poured his all into work.
'You are becoming a bit of a workaholic,' Bill noted on one Christmas Eve. There was a snowstorm outside, unlike anything else he had seen in Utah.
'You are here with me every time,' Jeb pointed out, watching the wind raging outside.
'Yes, but I'm not staying overtime,' his partner adjusted himself in his seat. It was getting to him not being able to smoke because of the crazy weather. 'Besides, you're young. You should find yourself someone.'
'I have you.'
'I'm flattered, but I don't like you like that,' Taba chuckled but was met with the mortified stare of his fellow detective. A lifetime of conditioning is difficult to weed out.
'What I'm saying is,' he started again. 'This is a new town. Maybe there's someone who tickles your fancy.'
Jeb honestly doubted that. He didn't find anyone interesting, and even if he had, he wouldn't be ready to open up.
That was until you came along.
You were the new evidence handler, archiving and organising everything the officers brought along, let it be testimonies or physical evidence. You were young and sweet which didn't sit right with him: he didn't want you to look at all the darkness that was out there in the world. He reckoned you should be protected from it, living in a bubble, not having your delicate features be degraded away by the horrors.
But above all, you were incredibly attractive. He saw other police officers trying to charm you or readily offer their help whenever there was an evidence box that "looked a little too heavy". Even Bill got into a harmless banter with you on occasion - you were easy on the eyes, he said, and Jeb agreed, though not out loud.
He could feel his heart in his throat whenever you passed by, and there was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach whenever you arrived at work. Looking at you felt like a sin.
It just so happened that the two of you were very similar. Even if it meant staying longer, you'd get all the handwritten notes typed in, each piece of evidence filed away correctly. Before leaving, you cleaned your desk, despite it being a catastrophe the whole day.
It was a Thursday night and the detective was about to leave to check out a crime scene. On his way out, he spotted you, at your desk, still lost in paperwork. He checked the clock and then outside: it was already dark.
'It's getting late,' he announced as he stepped to you.
'Oh, it's alright,' you shrugged. 'Just a few more things to file away.'
He contemplated for a second before turning to a young officer:
'Deputy Jones, when Miss Y/L/N is done with her work could you give her a ride home?'
'That's really not necessary,' you knew you were blushing and you didn't want to cause any trouble to anyone.
''Course, Sir,' Deputy Jones said without hesitation. Jeb nodded to the deputy and left you with an "Evening" and completely confused.
That night, he could not sleep. He worried you might not have been escorted home, or worse, took a liking to the young deputy. He should've taken you home himself.
Even though he was head over heels for you, you got the impression that he did not like you. He was cold, distant and you'd never seen him smile in your presence. When he dropped off any evidence, he seemed as though he was trying to escape the soonest possible.
'Five forged checks and interrogation of two witnesses,' you scanned through the documents on your desk, then flashed a warm smile at him. 'Anything else?'
'No, thank you,' he replied quickly, his mouth more crooked than ever.
You watched him walk to his office. It was a shame, really, upsetting, even. For one, you never gave any reason for him to hate you, and besides… You found him incredibly handsome.
He was eyeing you from his office, sometimes glancing in the direction of Jones, even though it was a few weeks after that incident. Jeb made it a point to avoid you, but couldn't fool his partner.
'I don't blame you for liking her,' he flipped the page in the folder of their current case. 'I would be surprised if you didn't.'
'I've never felt this way,' Jeb admitted nervously. His friend had a smug grin on his face before it turned serious.
'Look, you should make your move soon. Nobody is blind in this department.'
It was this conversation that ultimately pushed him to ask you out. It was a few days later, and all of your colleagues had left already. You were still finishing up some tasks and he tried to do his own, but his nerves wouldn't let him concentrate. Finally, he gave in.
'Are you staying for longer?' Jeb had to swallow for he felt like his throat was going to close up.
'No, I'm packing away for tonight.'
'Do you… Need a ride home?' He asked, then quickly added: 'I can take you.'
'Oh, I… Don't wanna cause you any trouble,' you chuckled nervously and pushed the last folder to its place.
'I insist.'
'Well, okay,' you gave in sheepishly and grabbed your coat.
The drive home was even more awkward, if possible. You tried to strike up a conversation but he hardly replied. He sat stiffly behind the wheel and kept his eyes on the road. He parked just outside your apartment complex.
'You know, Detective Pyre, you don't have to take me home.'
'I just like to know you're safe.'
'Anyway,' you said quickly over the sound of your loud heartbeat. 'Thank you for the ride.'
You were about to step out of the car when he blurted out:
'Can I take you out for dinner sometime?'
You turned back and were muted by surprise.
'You can say no if you don't want to,' he felt as if he was being suffocated by his own tie so he pulled it looser.
'Yes,' you hurried your answer. 'This Saturday?'
'Perfect. Pick you up at 7.'
Friday, he was a mess. If it was possible, he avoided contact with you even more which left you doubting he ever asked you out. The truth was, he didn't know how to react. You made him feel such emotions he was unfamiliar with; was he supposed to just wave at you as he passed by when he felt his insides burning with the heat of a thousand suns?
'Bill, I need your help,' Jeb closed the door of their office behind him. 'I'm taking Y/N on a date tomorrow.'
'Does she know?' His partner teased, but as Jeb replied with such exasperation, he knew this was no time for jokes.
'Of course!'
'So you finally asked her out. What do you need me for?'
'I'm nervous,' he leant to his desk and pulled his hand across his face. 'I can't even look at her.'
Bill glanced out towards you: 'I think she looks pretty, still.'
'Don't do that,' his friend begged defeatedly.
'Jeb,' Bill looked at him. 'Do me a favour and relax. Just be yourself.'
'What if the church thing freaks her out? What if I make a fool of myself?'
'There's no way around it, pal,' he shrugged. 'Sooner or later, she will know. Don't worry, I haven't seen her eat anyone. Try and enjoy it.'
It was easier said than done.
Jeb knew he was done for right as he picked you up on Saturday. You had a black dress on that hugged your body, and your shoulders were bare for you had your hair in a bun. Inside of him was a raging battle between what his former church made him think about your attire and what he felt. He was hoping he could forget about both, and most importantly not mention his past, but it was unavoidable.
'No, I… I have never drunk.'
'You haven't?' You asked in disbelief. 'Surely you were a teenager at some point.'
'Yeah,' he chuckled. 'I grew up in a very strict church. Alcohol was forbidden.'
'So it wasn't the kinda wine tasting that disguised itself as Sunday church, huh?' You joked. 'Are you still part of this church? Should I not drink?'
'No, no,' he shook his head. 'I was excommunicated. I no longer hold those beliefs.'
'So…' you swirled the wine around in your glass. 'Why don't you drink?'
'I guess old habits die hard.'
'Do you want a taste? It's sweet wine. If you like lemonade, you're gonna love this.'
You held your glass towards him and he took you up on your offer. His movements were sheepish, almost fearful as he held the glass to his lips and took a small sip. It really was sugary, with an uncanny resemblance to the way he felt about you: sweet but intoxicating. Throughout the dinner you shared a few glasses, most of which you drank, but he was finally easing up by the alcohol. Jeb felt his stomach warm from the wine; he was more comfortable with his feelings towards you, while also finding it harder to keep them in control. Your eyes seemed even more alluring and your cheeks were tinted red from the alcohol. He found it cute and smiled dumbly at you throughout the whole night; and honestly, with him opening up, you really enjoyed yourself. Not only that, you realised that you did actually like him: he was kind and wholesome and made such intelligent remarks you knew he was listening to your every word. You joked and gently poked his hand and his eyes lit up like a teenage boy's. He tried to (very seriously) pick out the notes of the wine, only to add at the end that it mostly just smelled like alcohol. He accidentally kicked you under the table and you teased him whether you were getting friendly.
You had your fingers crossed that the effects of the wine would stretch into the workdays.
But apparently, you spoke too soon.
'Thank you for the night, Jeb, I really enj…' you could barely open your mouth when he stopped the car at your home, and his lips were on yours. His left hand came up from the gearshift to cup your face as his quick, eager kiss was followed by a deeper one. You leant closer to him and rested your hand on his thigh. You got so lost in the sensations (the scent of his cologne, how his tongue explored your mouth against yours, or how it ran across your lips every once in a while), that you didn't know how much time had passed. Was it minutes or half an hour?
'I'm sorry,' he broke away abruptly. 'I can't do this.'
You couldn't really comprehend his words.
'I… I don't think I'm ready for this,' he followed, seeing your puzzled expression.
'We can take it slower,' you chuckled.
'It's not about that,' his body was turned away from you. 'I can't be with you.'
Honestly, this left you in shock. You don't remember if you said anything or just left the car - the whole thing didn't make sense. He was the one asking you out, the date went well, he came in for a kiss… Which was amazing.
You were confused, and above all, hurt. You thought that there must've been something so wrong with you for him to turn you down like this.
When Jeb told Bill about the date, his friend's first excitement died away as he heard how the night ended.
'What's wrong with you?' Bill asked, almost angrily. 'That date was going great and you chose to close it like a teen girl who hasn't fucked before?'
'Language!' The other hissed.
'That girl likes you. You come to me worried you'd screw up the date but you did it in such a way I would've never imagined.'
'It's not easy, Bill. I was raised to believe everything I've just done is a sin. Even though I no longer think the same, I…' he ran his fingers through his hair. 'Can't help but feel that it's wrong.'
His partner seized him up, sighing out the frustration he felt.
'I guess I understand. You do what you feel comfortable with. But she'd be good for you.'
But would I be good for her - Jeb pondered, staring at the papers in front of him.
That was until an office party: his colleagues pressured him into beer after beer, so he'd already had more than he should've. Then, you arrived - late, but no less beautiful. The cream dress you had on was a lot more modest than the form-fitting one you had on during the date, yet its satin fabric draped on your body perfectly. You looked better than ever, which he never thought was possible: your smile was charming and your eyes twinkled in the decorative lights - though he couldn't help but notice that you carefully avoided his direction.
The other officers were quick to bring you your favourite drink and they'd made it a competition who would make you laugh louder. Hearing your chuckles turned his blood bitter, and he kept shifting between chewing the inside of his mouth and adjusting his lips.
'And you, Detective Pyre? Anyone special?' A fellow officer asked.
'Who? Me?' He said, half-stupefied, then chuckled, his eyes on the table. 'No, no one.'
To be fair, since the failed date, you had been avoiding him just as he did with you. You gave a cryptic description of the date to your friends, and your colleagues knew nothing of the encounter: they merely concluded that Jeb's past hunted him, and that's why he was so uncomfortable in your presence.
Maybe they were closer to the truth than anyone thought.
You accompanied some officers out for a cigarette; you were craving some fresh air and the cold of the night on your cheeks. You borrowed a cigarette from Detective Taba to take the edge off.
'You, dear, look prettier every day,' he took a long drag from his cigarette after lighting yours. 'Is there a gentleman you saw before coming here?'
'Nah,' you smiled sheepishly as if the suggestion itself was ridiculous. 'I was looking after an old relative and my cousin arrived late to take over.'
'Don't act so innocent,' he scorned with a grin and gestured with his cigarette. 'I bet you make every man turn anywhere you walk by.'
He wasn't wrong: you only had to take some letters to the post office to come back with a date for the next day, but lately, all you had on your mind was the kiss from a certain detective. Even at work, especially after seeing him, your thoughts would slip from your grip to morph into his firm grip on your waist or the unmatching tenderness of his lips. You'd mistyped witness names and found that you had catalogued a set of crime scene photographs into the wrong folder. You were incredibly embarrassed, despite the officers only laughing at these mishaps, reassuring you that they happened more often than ever with you.
So, you avoided Jeb's eyes, knowing that their dark brown colour would melt you right on sight.
Even though Bill was nudging him every ten minutes to go up to you, Jeb couldn't bring himself to do it. All night, he had been imagining how your dress would fall from your shoulders if he'd unzipped it and how soft your skin would feel under it - softer than the satin itself, he was sure.
The air of the venue grew heavy with each passing minute. Jeb resolved to peel the stickers from the beers, while you were constantly entertained by at least two of your coworkers. They were all respectful, although sometimes a bit loud. You needed a few moments of peace; so you excused yourself to the bathroom.
Once on your way back, you bumped into him.
'Hey,' you forced a smile.
'How you're doing?'
'Good, good. And you?'
'Pretty wasted,' Jeb admitted with a chuckle and after a brief pause (during which he stared long into your eyes and your legs began to feel like jello), he brushed a few hairs that got stuck in your mouth behind your ear. You got a whiff of his cologne, something you only caught once or twice when he brought evidence bags to your table. It always left you spellbound.
'I'm so sorry about that night.'
'Don't be,' you said. 'It was an amazing date.'
Jeb was only half-there, his thumb brushed the edge of your lip.
'Until the end I suppose,' he said dreamily, as if not even to you.
'Do you like me?' You asked abruptly.
'I'm fucking mad about you.'
His answer threw your head in a spin. You grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss which he reciprocated with a groan. His hands quickly found the small of your back from which one ran up into your hair. Unconsciously, he gripped a handful of your locks to pull your head back and give him better access to your lips. You were rendered weak with a wave of emotion but this very same thing reminded you where you were and that any second colleague could appear.
You cupped his face and gently pulled away.
'Maybe this is not the best place…'
'No, it isn't,' he agreed. 'I want to make it up to you. Please, let me take you on another date.'
'I'm free on Sunday.'
'Well, not anymore.'
68 notes · View notes
aswebeg · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media
No way this title is real
og post
14 notes · View notes
prokaryotics · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I’m struggling, honey…”
“I love you…but I can’t struggle through this with you. I need you to do something for us. I need you to bear your testimony before our congregation. I need our girls to see and hear that their sweet father, our priesthood holder, that he still believes.”
Andrew Garfield in S1E7 “Revelation” | Under the Banner of Heaven
494 notes · View notes
orangechickenpillow · 2 years
Text
The Bishop telling Jeb that "it’s a fact, women struggle more with feelings than men" after he's sat on his couch literally struggling to hold back tears while practically begging him for an answer to ease his mom’s pain...... I am filled with so much rage.
The whole “wOmeN aRe mOrE eMotiOnaL” thing is just... bad enough as it is, because obviously -- but it had an extra punch to it in this instance because Jeb is such an emotional person. In fact, we’ve watched him struggle with overwhelming emotion for a whole three episodes at this point. We’ve watched him cry, panic, doubt, struggle, and nearly break over and over again as he watches his community (and his faith) fall apart from the inside out, all while dealing with anxieties about his family -- which have been increased tenfold by the murder of a woman and child so close to home.
So when the Bishop looks him in the fucking eyes and essentially tells him “your dementia-suffering mother is just Being Dramatic because she’s a Woman” and “you’re a man so you don’t feel things as strongly as women do, haha thank goodness for that, am I right?” Is just such a slap in the face. 
411 notes · View notes
silverwolfdesign · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
🡒 ✨ 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐬 & 𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐥 • 𝘉𝘦𝘯 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴 & 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥.
28 notes · View notes
andrew3garfield · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Andrew Garfield UNDER THE BANNER OF HEAVEN (2022) premiere - LA April 20, 2022
454 notes · View notes
sandwichmustbetasty · 14 days
Text
Tumblr media
NAAAAAAHHHH 😭😭😭
Why would you do thissss
In Polish jeb pyre literally means 'fuck potato' 💀
7 notes · View notes
moonchildesny · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
35 notes · View notes
sincericida · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm unwell.
2K notes · View notes
talkaboutyourday · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
S01E06: Revelation
215 notes · View notes
garfldcline · 2 years
Text
andrew garfield as jeb pyre in “under the banner of heaven”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
149 notes · View notes
railroad-spike · 25 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
UNDER THE BANNER OF HEAVEN - 1x07|Blood Atonement
6 notes · View notes
royalsunshinehotel · 1 year
Text
Master Post
BUY ME A COFFEE! (Please)
Hello!! Welcome to the Royal Sunshine Hotel, we hope you enjoy your stay. My name is Teddy and I'll be taking care of you this evening.
Guidelines for Guests: 
18 and over. Don’t interact if you’re a minor
This hotel has no place for hate.
I do my best to keep my X Reader fics vague enough for everyone to be involved. 
Room Service orders regarding “headcanons, fics, drabbles” will be on their way within the hour (or month).
I specialize in fluffy smut. There is little to no plot here. 
I’m pretty open-minded but if I don’t like a request, I will delete it at my own discretion.
Please send asks at any time, any topic welcome.
Thank you for staying at the
Royal Sunshine Hotel. 
Anwar Kharral
Sonny Kapoor
Neal Sampat
Deon Wilson
Sheru “Saroo” Bierley
Jay Menha
David Copperfield
Joshua Madika
Sir Gawain
Dr. Chatterjee
Arthur Dayal (OC)
REFERENCE MASTERLIST
Others:
JEB PYRE & PETER PARKER
TYLER GALPIN
Nate Kaur
35 notes · View notes
orangechickenpillow · 2 years
Text
I love how they let Bill and Jeb butt heads a little this final episode. Like, they’ve had their little moments (especially because Jeb is just so goddamn tense all the time -- understandably), but Bill has always diffused the situation or moved them past it. 
But this episode, he really became a lot more confrontational, and I love that. Because Bill is just such a patient, wise, understanding person, so it never came across as mean-spirited or out of control, if that makes sense? 
Like, even though they argued with one another, it never felt like they were at risk of having a falling out. Not once while I was watching their arguments did I think “oh shit, they’re not going to be friends anymore.” And I think that is solely because of the way Bill handles confrontation, and just generally carries himself. 
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, and I will not be shutting up about it: Gil Birmingham did an absolutely fantastic job, and Bill Taba was a showstopping character.  
176 notes · View notes