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Y/n walks in on her boyfriend Peter soaking in the hot tub with his mask still on, it turns her on more than it should
WC: 1.5k, hot tub sex, unprotected sex, kissing with Peter's mask half off, dirty talk, riding
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The front door clicked shut behind you, the sound muffled by the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Work had been brutalâdouble shifts, demanding customers, the kind of day that made you want to crawl into bed and not move until tomorrow. But as you went upstairs and stepped into the apartment swimming pool complex, you noticed the soft glow spilling from the room housing the hot tub, steam curling into the hallway.
Peter's home early. No one else really comes up here.
You followed the warmth, your feet padding softly on the tiles, and found the door slightly ajar. Steam billowed out, thick and humid, carrying the faint scent of chlorine. You pushed the door open wider, and your breath caught.
There he was.
Leaning back against the edge of the hot tub, Peter's bare shoulders and arms rested on the rim, water lapping at his chest. The bubbles obscured most of his torso, but you could see the defined lines of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen beneath the swirling surface. His muscles were relaxed, steam rising around him, softening the hard edges of a body that had spent hours swinging through the city.
But something was off.
His face was hidden. Not by shadow, but by the familiar red and blue mask, stretched tight over his features, the white lenses glowing faintly in the dim light.
He'd forgotten to take it off.
You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him. He didn't move at firstâjust breathed, slow and deep. Then his head tilted, the lenses focusing on you. His voice came out rough, tired.
"You okay, baby?"
You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. There was something about seeing him like thisâvulnerable, half-naked, but still wearing that mask. It was intimate and surreal at the same time. His bare shoulders, the veins in his forearms, the way his chest rose and fellâit was all Peter. But the mask made him something else. Spider-Man.
You nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Just⊠long day. You?"
He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the steam. "Rough patrol. Some guys with tech I haven't seen before. Got a few bruises." He rotated his shoulder, wincing. "Figured I'd soak before you got home."
He shifted, water sloshing, and then he noticed he was still wearing his mask.
You saw the way his hand moved to the edge of the mask. "I should probablyâ"
"Don't." The word came out before you could stop it. You stepped closer, your fingers finding the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Your bra followed, then your jeans, until you stood in just your panties, your skin prickling in the warm, humid air.
Peter's breath hitched. You saw the lenses track your movements, the way they dipped down your body and back up.
"You wanna join me?" he asked, his voice lower now, a little rough.
Like he even needed to ask.
You nodded, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor. You stepped out of your panties, then climbed into the hot tub, the water enveloping you, warm and soothing against your tired muscles. You moved between his legs, settling into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. The water sloshed around you, bubbles clinging to your skin.
You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled beneath the surface. His muscles were knots of strainâpatrol had been rough, and you could feel every tight fiber. You dug your thumbs into the meat of his traps, pressing deep. He groaned, his head falling back against the edge of the tub.
"Fuck⊠that feels good."
You worked your hands along his shoulders, across his collarbone, down the defined ridges of his pectorals. The mask stared back at you, white lenses unblinking, and you felt a thrill run through you. He was exposed to youâbut hidden at the same time. You could see the tension in his jaw through the fabric, the way his lips pressed together as you worked a particularly tight knot.
His hand came up, fingers brushing the edge of the mask. "I should take this off."
You caught his wrist. "No."
He froze, the lenses shifting to meet your gaze.
"Leave it on." Your voice was barely a whisper, but it was firm.
"Y/nâŠ"
You didn't answer. Instead, you shifted your hips, grinding against his length, which was already hardening beneath the water. The movement was slow, deliberate, your slick folds sliding along his shaft. His breath caught, his grip on your hip tightening.
"Fuck," he breathed.
You did it again, a little faster, the water rippling around you. His hands found your hips, guiding the motion, but you were in control. You leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his chest, your mouth close to where his lips would be behind the fabric.
"Peter⊠just let me."
A shaky breath escaped him. He let his head fall back, surrendering to you. His hands slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh, pulling you closer. You rocked against him, your clit catching on the ridge of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
You wanted to see his mouth. You wanted to kiss him.
Slowly, hesitantly, your fingers found the bottom edge of the mask. He tensed beneath you, but didn't stop you. You lifted the fabric, just enough to expose his lipsâthose full, soft lips that you knew so well. This might be the hottest he's ever looked.
You cupped his face, feeling the heat of his skin, the stubble rough against your palms. He leaned into your touch, his eyes hidden but his gaze palpable through the lenses. Then you kissed him.
It started soft, tentativeâa brush of lips, a shared breath. But it didn't stay that way. Your tongues met, hungry and desperate, and the kiss deepened. His hands tightened on your ass, pulling you harder against him, and you moaned into his mouth.
"I need you," you whispered against his lips. "I need you inside me."
He growled, low and animalistic. "Then take me."
You lifted your hips, positioning yourself over his cock. The head nudged your entrance, and you sank down, taking him inch by inch. The water made it slick, the heat making every sensation more intense. He filled you completely, stretching you, and you both groaned as you settled fully onto him.
You didn't wait. You started moving, riding him in the warm water, your hands planted on his chest for leverage. The mask stayed where you'd left it, his lips parted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The lenses tracked every movement, and you knew he was watching youâthe way your breasts bounced, the flush spreading across your chest, the way your mouth fell open as pleasure built.
"Look at you," he rasped, his voice strained. "Taking my cock like a good little slut. Riding me while I'm half-masked. That turn you on, baby? You can't see my face and I'm balls-deep inside you?"
You whimpered, your rhythm faltering. His words pushed you closer to the edge.
"Yeah, you like that. You like that I could be anyoneâbut I'm yours. I'm your Spider-Man. And I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk."
He grabbed your hips, taking control, slamming you down onto his cock with brutal, precise thrusts. The water sloshed around you, splashing over the edge of the tub. His lips found your throat, biting and sucking, marking you.
"You close?" he growled against your skin.
"Yes, Peter, fuckâ"
"Cum for me. Now. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."
Your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing through your body. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat. He followed a moment later, his hips bucking up as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, filling you completely.
You collapsed against him, both of you panting, the water settling around your trembling bodies. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The mask was still bunched under his chin, and you reached up, pulling it off completely, revealing his faceâflushed, sweat-slicked, eyes dark with satisfaction.
He smiled, soft and tender. "That wasâŠ"
"Exactly what I needed," you finished.
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lipsâsoft, lingering. "Me too. Even if I forgot to take the damn mask off."
You laughed, tracing the line of his jaw. "Best mistake you've ever made."
He hummed, his hand sliding down your back to rest on your ass. "Wanna make another mistake? I'm thinking round two in the bedroom. No mask this time. Just us."
You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again. "I thought you'd never ask."
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summary: when your upstairs neighbor, spider-man, had begun to experience bizarre side effects to his arachnid DNA taking over, he fought to suppress it. you encouraged the idea of him letting go and seeing what happened, knowing he would always be peter. for months, he didnât even entertain the thought, not willing to 'become a monster'. today? today he was a bit more susceptible.
written with somethingâs off with peter parker dynamic written in mind, but by no means a required read before this one
wc: 5.3k
cw: BND SPOILERS!!! nothing monumental to the storyline, and i would argue nothing that wasnât mentioned in the trailer, but the descriptions of The Spiderâąïž are very much written and talked about in the context of the film. read at your own discretion for those who have not seen it.
actual cw: !!MDNI!! smut (p in v), vivid spider-like descriptors, dubcon and bdsm elements (absolutely everything is consensual, but in peterâs current state, he is not âhimselfâ, which therefore makes the consent dubious): bondage/restrained by webs, slapping (but you hit peter đ€), choking, a dash of fear play and a touch of some primal/prey descriptors going on. dacryphilia, mean dirty talk by peter that also has a dubcon vibe, finishing inside, minor subspace mention, Def domdrop mention for peter, and probably more. jesus christ, let me know if i missed anything.
also a gross overuse of italics and bold. title is from 'my strange addiction' by billie eilish
donât like, donât read! enjoy my little freaks!
two years ago, your neighbor, you supposed, moved in to the apartment's storage loft right above you. peter parker, he had introduced himself as, was a rather shy, reserved guy for someone who created an entire new list of expectations for the upstairs neighbor archetype.
a year and ten months ago, peter parker was a frequent weekly guest for tuesday dinner and switch tournaments. what had started as a knock on his door and some of your grandmother's brownies had evolved into peter spending hours losing to you on mario kart over bowls of bland spaghetti and spongebob mac and cheese.
a year and eight months ago, spider-man swan-dove through your window instead of his on accident, mask stripped before he knew better.
a year and a half ago, peter parker had managed to become the person you trusted most in this life. and in a measly six months, you had become that for peter in return. he opened up to you about the deaths of his aunt and tony, how he'd lost his friends - fuck, his whole life - to the spell.
and after about a year, though he'd never admit it, you could tell he was happy to have a "guy in the chair" again. to have someone in his headset, someone to patch him up after a rough night with scorpion. suddenly, peter wasn't so alone. he had someone who knew him as well as he knew himself, someone who - while you didn't get it necessarily - was the only one in the world who finally knew he fucking existed again.
which is exactly why you also knew about the headache's peter had been getting more and more over the past few months.
you were the first person he ran to when they started, collapsing on your bedroom floor in tears as he tugged at his curls for relief from the pounding. he was begging you to make it stop, curled in on himself like, well... a spider.
the first time was the worst of them, mostly due to not knowing what was going on. but after decorating your room in a thick layer of web (despite not having his web-shooters), it was clear this was outside your basic first-aid training. that didn't stop you from helping how you could. in that moment, and beyond.
you attended professor banner's lectures with him, taking whatever notes you could understand. you stayed up late into the night with him, acting as his assistant as peter worked up in his loft on getting to the bottom of whatever the fuck was happening with his own DNA. he jokingly called you "Dum-E" once, and was quick to backtrack as he saw bewilderment flash across your face. he apologized and rambled on that it was a good thing, tripping over his words to explain himself, though the hurt in his eyes when telling the story told you it wasn't a time to push.
all of this to say, you knew that something about the arachnid DNA was evolving, and going fucking haywire in the process. which is exactly why, when you heard a thunderous crash and sharp curses from peter in the loft above you, worry immediately flooded your system.
you bolted up the stairs, the obscene noises coming from peter's apartment growing louder as you approached his door. you knocked rapidly, calling out his name as you did.
another loud crash sounded, and you heard peter howl. "uhh, not right now! not a good time!"
you huffed. "yeah it doesn't seem like a good time! let me in, parker!"
peter went to respond, but was cut off by his own pained groan, and a worried whine left your own lips in reply. he deserved his privacy, hell, he deserved his own autonomy, but your concern overrode all ethical dilemma as you heard his knees hit the floor. hard.
thank fuck peter never locked his door.
you crashed into the loft, stopping dead in your tracks as you took in the state of peter's apartment. there was webbing everywhere. it covered the ceiling and his furniture, splattered over the windows which caused the light to scatter in awkwardly. you could only describe the state of his webbed bed as a nest. there was a PC monitor on the ground next to his desk that looked like it had been torn in fucking half. in the left most corner, there were handprints in the exposed brick on the wall from where peter had tried to catch himself before hitting the ground below where you saw him now.
peter was hunched over in a similar position you had seen him in that first time, limbs curled in on himself as he gripped his head, no doubt pounding like a motherfucker. he was facing away from you, but his shirt was ripped off, showing off just how pale he looked. a thin layer of sweat glistened off his skin, droplets forming and almost looking sticky. peter was shaking and breathing heavy as you approached him.
you had seen him like this before. it hadn't been this bad in a while, but you had been there for peter through it before and you could do it again. you had seen him when everything got too loud and he started to shut down, something else fighting to take over. that was the entire point of the inhibitor he had been working on. to suppress whatever the fuck this was.
you had pushed back initially, playing devil's advocate to encourage him to let it happen. to let the spider in. prove to himself that he was still peter parker when spider-man took over. after seeing him in this much pain and discomfort enough times, you stopped entertaining the notion.
because seeing him like this? was heartbreaking. you knew just how much everything was hitting him right now. how every sense was stabbing at him individually, how each breath you took was a knife to his eardrums. so you approached cautiously, keeping a step or two away and knowing not to touch him right now.
you met him with a hushed voice. "peter, hey. it's just me."
he flinched at your whispers and you cringed, feeling nauseated knowing it was your voice that hurt him. "let me help, okay? how can i help right now? do you need me to grab your-"
"no," he rasped out. his voice was deep, in a tone you hadn't heard from him before. "no, i'm not kidding. you need to fucking go."
"pete, i'm not-"
"no!" peter's voice boomed throughout the loft as he screamed your name. "i don't fucking care what you think right now!"
"parker," you went to scold, but he cut you off.
"i cannot get this fucking inhibitor to calibrate, and i-i.. fuck, i'm not myself right now. you need to go." his voice cracked on the last word, like he was trying to hold back tears. a moment ago, his voice literally shook the building. now, it just sounded broken.
you stood your ground. "peter, i'm not leaving you. don't do this alone."
his fist slammed into the floor in front of him, shattering the hardwood. as if it were fucking glass, splinters flew around him like shards of glass snowing in the air. peter held onto the edge of the newfound hole in the ground while trying to recenter himself, his grip on the floorboard literally causing the wood to disintegrate into dust in his hands.
you heard him fucking growl at you, and while you still weren't afraid of him, part of you was a little grateful peter was still facing the other way as you felt your cheeks heat up at the outburst.
"do you not see that i fucking have to?!" peter screamed into the corner, dust and loose grout crumbling from the ceiling at the sheer strength of his voice. you could see his back expanding and inflating as he desperately tried to suck in breaths, his many muscles flexing around his ribcage, and-
okay jesus, maybe not the time.
you sighed, shaking your head and taking another step closer. "peter-"
"fuck, get out of here! i don't want to hurt you!" he pleaded, still trembling and pulling at his hair.
you took a step back to look over at his computer, noticing his vitals freaking out on one monitor as the other was hooked up to some homemade tech he had running sequences on the inhibitor. EVIE was working with the same desperation that peter was oozing, already on trial #392. you looked back to the corner where he was still hunched in pain, and decided with unwavering finality that you were not leaving him alone during this.
walking back over, you crouched down to brush his shoulder with your fingertips, hoping to ground him with a singular sensation. he caught your wrist before you could even bother.
"i said. don't."
peter finally looked up at you for the first time, and your heart dropped to your stomach.
a lot about peter had begun to change during his "molting process" (as you referred to it). his strength had grown expotentially -- so had his spidey-sense. even the organic webbing, which was brand fucking new.
you hadn't seen his eyes go black like that before.
you stared into his fully darkened eyes, hoping the shock wasn't as evident in your own as you knew it was. hoping the tinge of something else in your eyes wasn't as evident as you thought it was. you flicked between his deep glare and his hand on your wrist as you regained your composure.
"peter. i'm not leaving you. i'm not scared of you."
he laughed. peter parker honest to god laughed at you, as he kept a firm grasp on your wrist and held your gaze.
"you fucking should be."
before you could blink, peter launched upwards, fucking jumping from his spot on the ground as shoved you against the wall. hard. despite the aggressive action and your back slamming against the brick, his hand landed behind your head to cushion the impact. the rest of you still hit with enough force that the wall cracked behind you, dust from the concrete swirling in the air.
you coughed hard, though, whether that was a result of the dust or the grip of peter's hand on the base of your fucking neck, it was hard to tell. he stared at you for a moment, black eyes darting up and down your body as he tracked your every movement. every rise of your chest, every twitch of your lip as you wheezed through his grip.
peter looked at you like you were his prey. like you were a fly that had been caught in his fucking web. you tried not to be as turned on as you were.
his eyes flickered slightly towards his hand on your neck and he loosened the grip, though still not letting you go. he regained a bit more of himself, a bit more of peter, as his shaking hand kept you pined to the wall. his voice betrayed the stone cold look on his face, trembling as he told you: "clearly, you should be".
peter didn't miss how your eyes jut down to his lips before hitting him with a rattled but firm: "well, i'm fucking not."
he smirked at you and let you go fully, stepping back to analyze as you took a moment to catch your breath. he drank you in, sizing you up before letting out a deep chuckle. before you could look up at him, both of your wrists were webbed to the wall behind you, pinned over your head as your back was once again pressed against the hard brick. peter closed in on you, boxing your frame in against his own. he pressed against you, getting in your face. literally breathing down your neck.
"no, you are. just a little," he growled in your ear. "but i think you like it."
you felt how fucking hard peter was through his juicy sweatpants, felt just how fucking big he was pressed against your hip. this was not a side effect of the arachnid DNA that either of you had seen in the last few months. or at least, nothing that peter had mentioned. come to think of it, why would he? it's not like he felt the same way.
you were snapped out of your thoughts as peter fucked sniffed you. you shook off the self-doubt as you took stock of the man in front of you, restricting himself to the point of physical pain right now as he caught whiff of your arousal. consequences to the friendship be damned, you were determined to stay at his side through this as his inhibitor kept running sequences on the computer, red flashing from the screen every few minutes to signal yet another failed attempt.
and, well. he exactly wasn't wrong.
you fought to hold contact with his deep, piercing eyes. "maybe i do, spider-man. what are you going to do about it?"
those were the magic words.
he ripped you off the wall, webbing still hanging from your wrists as he picked you up like you were nothing. a scream escaped your lips as you were airborne suddenly, flying through the air shortly before your back hit peter's bed.
his bed. oh fuck, you hadn't expected that to work so easily.
it was starting to become crystal clear that you were in fact going to have whiplash and possibly even a concussion tomorrow, but you were too fucking wet to care. you'd analyze what that meant about your psyche later. for now? you were simply too excited to see what the fuck he was going to do to you.
you watched as he stalked, taking in your frame as you laid hopelessly in his bed. his bed, which, was covered in webbing that extended down to the floor where peter was standing. you shifted with hesitation and watched peter's head flick towards you, almost like...
almost like he could feel your fucking vibrations against the webbing. like a fucking prey caught in his web, writhing for help and sending vibrations up this silk to signal the spider.
the spider, who was watching you through his black-hooded eyes, like he was fucking hungry.
peter started to squat down, and you sat up in turn, instantly worried his headache was consuming him again.
you didn't even get to meet his eyes.
peter pounced forward, a hydraulic explosion coming from his legs as he fucking jumped you on the bed, using his limbs to pin your own underneath him. your breath had initially hitched, but all air was taken from you as peter's hands were on your clothes, tearing the garments from your body like you'd only been in a paper fucking bag. shreds of cotton stuck to the webs around you as peter stared down at your mostly naked body.
he straddled you properly, using his hands to hold down your own again as he leaned close, breathing you in heavy. no doubt catching the pheromones in your sweat, a downright villainous smirk creeping on his lips as he got confirmation of just how turned on you were.
peter pulled back to see your eyes, and was taken aback to see the fear in them. regardless of every other emotion you were feeling right now, you were also scared.
and fuck, he did that.
he sat up straight, the black around his sclera retreating slightly as his breathing picked back up. you could feel him start to tremble over you again as peter buried his face in his hands for a moment.
"fuck, i don't- that's not," he choked out. "fuck, i'm so sorry. you need to get out of here, i fucking meant it earlier."
you could tell the headache was back as his grip tightened in his curls, a pained groan escaping from deep in his chest. he was fighting himself, trying to use the strength he had just minutes ago to lift himself off of your lap. you grabbed his hips to hold him down.
"peter, listen to me."
"please, i-i can't, i shouldn't have-"
"peter." he shook his head, refusing to look at you.
"i can't believe i put you in this position, oh my god. i-i, fuck i can't even begin to apologize..." he rambled. you tried to fight back, to tell him that it was okay, to let it happen.
you had been a firm supporter this entire time of the notion that peter just needed to let the spider in and see what the fuck happened. obviously, he had never wanted to do that. too afraid of what would happen. at this point, you were afraid of what would happen to him if he didn't submit to what was desperately trying to crawl out of him. this had seemed like as good time as any to test your theory, as peter's monitor still continued to flash red, the trial number now surpassing five hundred.
besides, if you died because spider-man ripped you in half from fucking you too hard? that was a fine way to go out, in your opinion.
so you antagonized him. just... a little.
"spider-man!" you yelled in his face, and your voice rang out alongside the CRACK! of your palm across his cheek.
peter looked back at you, slight shock on his flashing on face before his eyes went fully black again. he locked sight on you, eyes twitching as he analyzed each minute movement your body made. and there was that fucking smirk again.
"oh i see. you want this, don't you?" peter rasped in your ear as he leaned back down, his breath hot against your skin. "fine. but don't be mad at me when it gets to be too much."
in a split second, your hands were whipped high above your head, warm and sticky webs encasing your wrists once again. this time, attached to peter parker's headboard. fuck.
you squirmed in his grasp, fighting the webbing even though you knew it was no use. you were there when he discovered just how fucking strong his organic web was in comparison to the lab-designed. you couldn't move, and you knew it. he knew it too.
peter's hands were on you in a frenzy, ripping your bra clean from your body in a single motion. you gasped as he stared down at your chest, vibrating with restraint. restraint that peter didn't have right now.
perfect.
his hands weren't off your body for long, quickly lunging to wrap around your exposed breast. he squeezed the soft tissue, hard enough to elicit a scream that ripped straight from your throat. he growled at your response, loosening his grip and focusing on pinching your erect nipples instead. he leaned down to bite one, earning another piercing scream.
peter pulled back to admire his work, and you looked down to see the instant handprint that was bruising over your left tit. it made you dizzy, seeing peter spider-man mark you with such a primal fucking desire. blood rushed back to comfort the sore area, leaving your chest feeling warm and fuzzy. you weren't allowed much of a reprieve, however.
peter manhandled you exactly how he wanted you, crawling out of his hold on you to spread your legs and raise your knees. once he had you positioned, you felt the warm rush of webbing cover your feet as well. oh, you were so fucked.
his fingers trailed up your legs, starting at your feet and working their way towards your aching core. you shivered against his touch, and noticed how he relished in the way it caused his webbing around you to vibrate. you were but a bug in his web, caught and waiting to be eaten.
you let out a moan as he grabbed at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving matching handprints to the one on your chest. peter just snarled in response.
"so fucking desperate for it. is this why you've been helping me all along? just waiting to get fucked by spider-man?"
he stared up at you from where he was in between your legs, hot breath teasing against your damp underwear. "so desperate i bet you don't even need any prep, am i right?"
peter reached his hand towards your core, fingertips trembling with constraint as he could feel just how wet you were for him. he hissed, retracting his hand as though he had been burnt. within seconds, your underwear had been ripped off your body like the rest of your clothes, leaving you fully naked in front of peter parker.
in front of spider-man.
you stared into the black void of his eyes as he repeated the same action to himself, shredding the infamous juicy sweatpants in the process. you were pretty sure your eyes were as dark as his were, pupils blown to shit as you stared at the fucking greek statue in front of you.
did spiders have insanely large dicks, or was that just a peter thing?
not now, jesus.
as he promised, there was no goddamn prep. no easing into it. peter climbed back on top of you, his limbs stalking over yours as his webbing held you firmly in place. you tried to struggle against it, even if just for the show of it. definitely for the show of it.
"just a dumb. fucking. bug. aren't you? landed right where i fucking wanted you to."
peter gave no warning as he thrust all of himself inside you, a sharp cry punching from your chest as he bottomed out in one go. the line between pain and pleasure was a fine one as he set a disgustingly rough pace, pistoning in and out of you like it would literally kill him to go any slower.
maybe it would. you weren't here to find out.
you squirmed against him on a particularly heavy thrust, only to be met with a hand at the base of your throat again.
"no, hold still. you fucking wanted this."
oh, you were so gone. you weren't even sure you were going to remember enough of this to be able to psychoanalyze these newfound kinks, you were too fucking cock-drunk off peter. he was still relentlessly forcing his way into you, but you seemed almost distant from your body now. as though the pleasure was so good, you had started floating.
peter noticed and it only drove him crazier, watching your limp body move in time with his thrusts as he milked you dry, a creamy ring around his cock each time he pulled out.
"is this why you've been so against the fucking inhibitor? been wanting me to lose my goddamn mind like this?"
you weren't sure when you had started crying, but warm tears were now flooding down your rosy cheeks. peter mock cooed at the sight.
"don't cry now, baby. this is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? this is exactly what you fucking asked for."
you moaned at his words, too lost to form your own. peter only held you tighter. "such a pretty fucking crier. taking me so well."
peter dropped his head in the crook of your neck as he kept going, reaching new levels of overstimulation. and for the first time, the overstimulation wasn't destroying him. it was consuming, driving his every movement and decision -- but it didn't hurt anymore. it almost felt... good. natural.
he had never had sex like this before. sure, in the past, the physical intimacy of it all had been overwhelming, feeling each sensation of the other person as if it were also his own. but something about this was different. peter could feel your heartbeat inside of his own body, each time you pulsed around him sent an electrical current through his system that was, well... electrifying.
peter could feel you getting close, the constrictions of your muscles changing every so slightly to signal to him that you were on the edge. not only that, but he could fucking smell the hormonal change in your body before you even knew it yourself, soft moans falling from your lips in a desperate attempt to let him know.
like he didn't already fucking know.
"i know, that's it. come for me, baby. i want you to feel me for weeks. i want you to hurt so bad that no one else can fuck you. only me. you're fucking mine," peter snarled possessively in your ear.
that was all it took for you to fall over the edge, weightless as you screamed through the orgasm. the feeling of your cunt tightening around him, your juices slicking his cock even more, the sounds of it all: it was beyond lewd. peter was immediately behind you, the sensations coming from you enough to reset his entire system. it was a sensory overload in the best way possible, his vision going white as he came the hardest he ever had.
peter flooded you with his warmth, and you had come back to earth just enough to notice how similar his cum inside of you felt like his webs against your wrists. he gave one final thrust before collapsing on top of you, using his remaining strength to rip the webbing from your hands and feet. his breathing was heavy again as he pulled his head up to look at you, and you noticed that his eyes had returned to the soft brown rings of peter parker.
he flickered his gaze around you and where you both were, confusion flashing across his face as he fought everything in his body telling him to sleep.
"what... oh my god, what happened?"
peter barely slurred it out before he passed out on top of you. still inside of you.
you fought against your own haze, still on cloud nine as you caught a green glow from the corner of your eyes. thank god for his loft set up -- his desk being tucked next to his bed, allowing you to close access to his tech in this moment. sometime in the last god knew how long, EVIE had run a successful trial, signified by the incandescent green radiating from his monitor.
you reached out as far as peter's weight over you had allowed, just barely catching the inhibitor in your fingertips. you guided the small machine around his sleeping frame, connecting it to the spot on the back of his neck. you were already out of breath, fucked dumb and on the verge of passing out, but this was about peter. it had been since the beginning.
with the inhibitor finally latched and active with a soft chrip!, you let out a sigh of relief watching peter's vitals and DNA level back out on the computer monitor. you could feel peter further relax on top of you, and it was enough to give you a final sense of accomplishment before you let the lull wash over you too, pulling you under with peter into a blissful slumber.
you woke up hours later, tucked into the covers, still on peter's stiff mattress. the webbing around his bed was gone, leaving you to wake up on fresh sheets. the scent was overwhelming peter, causing a smile to graze your lips before you even opened your eyes. he must've moved you in your sleep, as both the bedding and you were cleaned off.
you opened your eyes slowly, a dull headache settling behind your eyes and confirming your whiplash/concussion hypothesis from earlier. you saw the evening light coming through the loft windows, which had also been cleared of the previous webbing, and noted that it had in fact been hours that you'd been sleeping. it was now that you also noticed you were still naked while wrapped in peter's comforter, and a blush settled over your cheeks.
you went to sit up, but your entire body screamed protest as you moved. only a soft grunt left your lips, but it was enough to alert peter that you were awake again. he was at your side in an instant.
"oh my god, you're awake. thank fucking god, i was so worried that-"
you cut off his rambling with a hand to his chest, grateful to feel his heart beat almost at a normal rate again. normal for anxious peter, at least.
"pete, i'm okay." you gave him a soft smile, but it was the comfort that sent him over the edge. he quivered next to you as tears fought to fall from his eyes, physical proof of just how sorry he was.
there was your peter parker.
"no, listen. i'm so fucking sorry. i can't actually describe to you how sorry i am, there's no words for it. i-i'm a fucking monster, i can't believe that i... fuck, oh my god- i'm going to fucking throw up. i-i have the cops on speed dial, you know that, right? i'll call them. i swear to god, i will turn myself in right fucking now-"
"peter," you tried again, sitting up to meet his eye level more. to stop his spiraling.
the opposite happened as the blanket fell slightly in your adjustment, revealing a bit of your chest where he had left a handprint. peter's eyes locked onto the bruise, and he looked moments away from throwing himself off the building. his nervous shaking had turned to violent, full body tremors as tears finally slipped down his cheeks. he opened his mouth, surely to apologize more, but you weren't having it.
you pulled him in for a kiss, ignoring how tender your wrists were as you grabbed onto his sweatshirt. peter was hesitant at first, but soon melted into the kiss, feeling something deep and primal within him relax.
you broke the kiss to look at him again, and peter was beyond confused. "but i-"
"peter, i wanted it. all of it." you held his gaze firmly, one hand holding his comforter over your bare chest, the other tightly holding his own trembling palm. "i wanted to push you and see what would happen. to help you prove to yourself that you aren't a fucking monster, even if you don't know what the fuck is taking over. you're still my peter parker. you're still good."
peter let out a relieved huff of air, pulling you in for a gentle and cautious hug as happy tears landed against your bare back. he held you, thanking you profusely for trusting him. for helping him trust himself.
"do you feel better, pete?" you mumbled into the crook of his neck.
he choked on a laugh, and you felt a soft nod against your cheek. "yeah. yeah, fuck, i guess i do."
peter pulled back, concern laced in his eyebrows once again. "but you-"
"but i nothing, parker. i'm okay, really. think i can't handle a good fucking? being hurt a little?"
peter's cheeks lit on fire, a red flush extending down under the collar of his shirt. he laughed nervously, absentmindedly reaching up to graze his fingertips over the bruise blooming over your breasts. "good, huh? you're not too hurt?"
"oh i'm definitely hurt," you smirked at how quickly his face fell, your hand cupping his over your chest. "dare i say, hurt so bad that no one but you can fuck me?"
maybe it wasn't so bad if peter let the spider take over every now and then.
Y/n walks in on her boyfriend Peter soaking in the hot tub with his mask still on, it turns her on more than it should
WC: 1.5k, hot tub sex, unprotected sex, kissing with Peter's mask half off, dirty talk, riding
----------------
The front door clicked shut behind you, the sound muffled by the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Work had been brutalâdouble shifts, demanding customers, the kind of day that made you want to crawl into bed and not move until tomorrow. But as you went upstairs and stepped into the apartment swimming pool complex, you noticed the soft glow spilling from the room housing the hot tub, steam curling into the hallway.
Peter's home early. No one else really comes up here.
You followed the warmth, your feet padding softly on the tiles, and found the door slightly ajar. Steam billowed out, thick and humid, carrying the faint scent of chlorine. You pushed the door open wider, and your breath caught.
There he was.
Leaning back against the edge of the hot tub, Peter's bare shoulders and arms rested on the rim, water lapping at his chest. The bubbles obscured most of his torso, but you could see the defined lines of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen beneath the swirling surface. His muscles were relaxed, steam rising around him, softening the hard edges of a body that had spent hours swinging through the city.
But something was off.
His face was hidden. Not by shadow, but by the familiar red and blue mask, stretched tight over his features, the white lenses glowing faintly in the dim light.
He'd forgotten to take it off.
You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him. He didn't move at firstâjust breathed, slow and deep. Then his head tilted, the lenses focusing on you. His voice came out rough, tired.
"You okay, baby?"
You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. There was something about seeing him like thisâvulnerable, half-naked, but still wearing that mask. It was intimate and surreal at the same time. His bare shoulders, the veins in his forearms, the way his chest rose and fellâit was all Peter. But the mask made him something else. Spider-Man.
You nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Just⊠long day. You?"
He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the steam. "Rough patrol. Some guys with tech I haven't seen before. Got a few bruises." He rotated his shoulder, wincing. "Figured I'd soak before you got home."
He shifted, water sloshing, and then he noticed he was still wearing his mask.
You saw the way his hand moved to the edge of the mask. "I should probablyâ"
"Don't." The word came out before you could stop it. You stepped closer, your fingers finding the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Your bra followed, then your jeans, until you stood in just your panties, your skin prickling in the warm, humid air.
Peter's breath hitched. You saw the lenses track your movements, the way they dipped down your body and back up.
"You wanna join me?" he asked, his voice lower now, a little rough.
Like he even needed to ask.
You nodded, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor. You stepped out of your panties, then climbed into the hot tub, the water enveloping you, warm and soothing against your tired muscles. You moved between his legs, settling into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. The water sloshed around you, bubbles clinging to your skin.
You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled beneath the surface. His muscles were knots of strainâpatrol had been rough, and you could feel every tight fiber. You dug your thumbs into the meat of his traps, pressing deep. He groaned, his head falling back against the edge of the tub.
"Fuck⊠that feels good."
You worked your hands along his shoulders, across his collarbone, down the defined ridges of his pectorals. The mask stared back at you, white lenses unblinking, and you felt a thrill run through you. He was exposed to youâbut hidden at the same time. You could see the tension in his jaw through the fabric, the way his lips pressed together as you worked a particularly tight knot.
His hand came up, fingers brushing the edge of the mask. "I should take this off."
You caught his wrist. "No."
He froze, the lenses shifting to meet your gaze.
"Leave it on." Your voice was barely a whisper, but it was firm.
"Y/nâŠ"
You didn't answer. Instead, you shifted your hips, grinding against his length, which was already hardening beneath the water. The movement was slow, deliberate, your slick folds sliding along his shaft. His breath caught, his grip on your hip tightening.
"Fuck," he breathed.
You did it again, a little faster, the water rippling around you. His hands found your hips, guiding the motion, but you were in control. You leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his chest, your mouth close to where his lips would be behind the fabric.
"Peter⊠just let me."
A shaky breath escaped him. He let his head fall back, surrendering to you. His hands slid down to your ass, kneading the flesh, pulling you closer. You rocked against him, your clit catching on the ridge of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
You wanted to see his mouth. You wanted to kiss him.
Slowly, hesitantly, your fingers found the bottom edge of the mask. He tensed beneath you, but didn't stop you. You lifted the fabric, just enough to expose his lipsâthose full, soft lips that you knew so well. This might be the hottest he's ever looked.
You cupped his face, feeling the heat of his skin, the stubble rough against your palms. He leaned into your touch, his eyes hidden but his gaze palpable through the lenses. Then you kissed him.
It started soft, tentativeâa brush of lips, a shared breath. But it didn't stay that way. Your tongues met, hungry and desperate, and the kiss deepened. His hands tightened on your ass, pulling you harder against him, and you moaned into his mouth.
"I need you," you whispered against his lips. "I need you inside me."
He growled, low and animalistic. "Then take me."
You lifted your hips, positioning yourself over his cock. The head nudged your entrance, and you sank down, taking him inch by inch. The water made it slick, the heat making every sensation more intense. He filled you completely, stretching you, and you both groaned as you settled fully onto him.
You didn't wait. You started moving, riding him in the warm water, your hands planted on his chest for leverage. The mask stayed where you'd left it, his lips parted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The lenses tracked every movement, and you knew he was watching youâthe way your breasts bounced, the flush spreading across your chest, the way your mouth fell open as pleasure built.
"Look at you," he rasped, his voice strained. "Taking my cock like a good little slut. Riding me while I'm half-masked. That turn you on, baby? You can't see my face and I'm balls-deep inside you?"
You whimpered, your rhythm faltering. His words pushed you closer to the edge.
"Yeah, you like that. You like that I could be anyoneâbut I'm yours. I'm your Spider-Man. And I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk."
He grabbed your hips, taking control, slamming you down onto his cock with brutal, precise thrusts. The water sloshed around you, splashing over the edge of the tub. His lips found your throat, biting and sucking, marking you.
"You close?" he growled against your skin.
"Yes, Peter, fuckâ"
"Cum for me. Now. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."
Your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing through your body. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat. He followed a moment later, his hips bucking up as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, filling you completely.
You collapsed against him, both of you panting, the water settling around your trembling bodies. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The mask was still bunched under his chin, and you reached up, pulling it off completely, revealing his faceâflushed, sweat-slicked, eyes dark with satisfaction.
He smiled, soft and tender. "That wasâŠ"
"Exactly what I needed," you finished.
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lipsâsoft, lingering. "Me too. Even if I forgot to take the damn mask off."
You laughed, tracing the line of his jaw. "Best mistake you've ever made."
He hummed, his hand sliding down your back to rest on your ass. "Wanna make another mistake? I'm thinking round two in the bedroom. No mask this time. Just us."
You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again. "I thought you'd never ask."
------------
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awkward first encounter with fire fighter!rafe x florist!reader
firefighter!rafe who sees you for the first time while heâs late as hell for work, walking past the flower shop while he catches your face in the window. while heâs taking a passive look by, he nearly trips over his shoe laces to get a second glance.
fuck work, they can wait. when he enters the shop, he sees you blink for a second & reflexively he does too.
is there something on his face? was it his breakfast he had earlier? is it the shoe laces? the uniform? did he not shave this morning like he thought he did? does he smell -
âhi,â you both say at the same time. you realise that itâs just you two in the shop. âcan i help you?â you add.
rafe swallows, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. âuh - yeah.â when you wait for him to continue, he adds weakly, embarrassed, âflowers?â
âtake your pick.â you gesture to the flowers around you.
he gets the ones that he remembers that everyone else gets: lillies and orchids because he doesnât really know any other flowers, but takes longer than usual so he can look at you longer. after some time he pays, swiping his card, as you wrap them for him (though itâs not necessary).
you canât help but ogle him. respectfully, of course. heâs taller than you but in a way that wouldnât make you two look like giant & human. heâs very well built but he also looks kind, not intimidating or cruel. and bonus, you can tell heâs the same age as you, if not older by max four years.
in summary? perfect
âwhoâs the lucky woman?â you ask, disguising your interest as small talk. thereâs no way he doesnât have a girlfriend, right?
rafe shakes his head, smiling. âitâs for the boys.â
âoh.â you turn red, âyouâre gay?â
the tips of his ears turn pink. âno, i mean for the uh, firefighters. im a firefighter.â he adds weakly. âitâs for my colleagues.â
gosh, have you never wanted to crawl into a hole and die until now. âim so sorry for the assumption.â you hold the flowers out to him, a weak attempt to cover your face, but warm steady fingers brush yours accompanied with a soft, âdonât worry bout it, sweetheart.â
as soon as rafe leaves, he smacks his face with the flowers and lets out a groan while you sigh heavily, both of you unaware of the affect you have on each other. anyways! you make sure to keep those same flowers in stock.
"C'mere sweetheart!" Frank calls from the front hall.
"Yeah?" you ask, already padding over to him. He'd been tidying up the front hall closet for the past hour and you assumed he wanted to show you his work.
"What is it Frankie? Done?" you ask when you find.
"Yeah, almost doll," he says a little distracted. "Do me a favor, stand here and reach your hand up sweetheart," he adds, positioning you by the hips squarely in front of the closet.
"Huh?" you ask, looking back at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Just reach up baby. Stretch your arm, wanna see somethin'" he vaguely explains. You do as you're asked, reaching your arm into the air and extending it, instinctively going to your tip toes.
"No toes," he murmurs, pushing you gently down by the shoulders. You comply and go flat-footed. Once you do, he takes the pencil from behind his ear and makes a quick mark on the wall just below the height of your fingertips. "Good job sweetheart, back to the couch alright?" he says, patting your ass to send you on your way.
"Wait wait, what the hell was that for?!" you ask, your face scrunched in confusion.
"Huh?" he asks distractedly, "oh uh, the shelf. Ain't gonna put your purses up there if you can't reach it doll."
"You're lowering the whole shelf?" you ask, slightly astonished.
"Yeah, how we gonna organize your pretty purses in there if you can't reach 'em baby?" he scoffs, shaking his head like you're the crazy one.
rafe taking care of drunk!reader after a long girls nights out
rafe was not supposed to be involved tonight.
it was a girlsâ night. very clearly stated. very firmly emphasized. and yet his phone lights up at 1:17 a.m.
you calling.
he frowns immediately, already sitting up in bed. he answers on the first ring. âheyâ?â
âraaaafe,â you slur, and heâs on his feet instantly.
ââŠokay,â he says, running a hand through his hair, already grabbing his keys. âwhere are you?â
you giggle. giggle. âoutside⊠the place⊠with the lights. and the music. andâoh! thereâs fries.â
he closes his eyes briefly.
âyeah, that narrows it down real nice, baby.â
in the background, he hears your friends talking over each other.
âwaitâgive me the phoneâno, i got itââ
then one of them comes through clearer. âhi, umâsheâs okay! just⊠very drunk. weâre outside the bar onââ
rafeâs already moving. âiâm on my way.â
ten minutes later, he pulls up, and it takes him exactly two seconds to spot you.
youâre sitting on the curb, heels kicked off somewhere, head tilted back, laughing at absolutely nothing.
his chest does a weird mix of relief and oh my god. he steps out of the car, locking it quickly. âhey.â
your head snaps toward him. âRAFE!â
you light up like he just hung the moon.
and then youâre scrambling u pâ very unsteadily like a baby deer â and stumbling straight into him. he catches you immediately. âwhoaâhey, easy,â he murmurs, hands firm on your waist as you basically collapse into his chest.
âyou came,â you mumble into his shirt, arms wrapping around him like youâre afraid he might disappear.
his expression softens instantly.
âyeah,â he says quietly. âcourse i did.â
your friends hover nearby, watching with very knowing looks. one of them snorts softly. âsheâs been talking about you for, like⊠two hours.â
you groan. âno i havenât ââ
âyou have,â another cuts in. âitâs been rafe this, rafe thatââ
âokay,â rafe interrupts, but heâs smiling a little, ducking his head as he looks down at you. âthat so?â
you hide your face in his chest. âtheyâre lying.â
âmm,â he hums. âsure.â
he thanks your friends quickly, promises heâs got you, and then itâs just him and you. well, mostly him holding you up.âcâmon,â he says gently. âletâs get you in the car.â
âdonât wanna walk,â you mumble.
âyeah, i figured.â
before you can protest, he scoops you up. ull-on. one arm under your knees, the other around your back. you squeak, then immediately cling to him.
ârafe!â
ârelax,â he mutters, but thereâs no heat in it. âiâve got you.â
you bury your face in his neck, giggling again. âyouâre strong.â
âyeah?â he glances down at you. âyou just noticing that now?â
âmmhm.â
he shakes his head, smiling despite himself as he sets you carefully into the passenger seat, buckling you in because youâre definitely not doing it yourself.
you watch him the whole time. like heâs fascinating. like heâs everything. he is.
the drive is⊠an experience.
you ramble. about your friends, about the music, about how the bathroom attendant âfelt like a fairy,â about how much you love fries.
and thenâ âi love you.â
it just slips out. rafeâs hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. he glances at you. âyouâre drunk,â he says quietly.
âi know,â you nod, very seriously. ââŠokay? but i still love you.â
his jaw ticks. he looks back at the road. doesnât answer right away. âweâll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?â
you pout, but a second later youâre distracted again by something outside the window.
he exhales slowly.
back at his place, getting you inside isâŠa process.
âshoes,â he says, crouching in front of you.
âno.â
âyes.â
ânoooo.â
he raises a brow. âyou wanna sleep in them?â
you think about it. âno.â
âyeah,â he mutters. âthatâs what i thought.â
he gently slips them off, setting them aside, then stands and takes your face in his hands for a second. âstay,â he says.
âkay.â
you do not stay. you wobble after him immediately. he catches you (again). âyou are not making this easy,â he says, but his hands are steady, careful, guiding you.
âyou love me,â you sing.
he pauses. just for a second. then softer, almost under his breath âyeah.â
you donât even register it. he gets you changed into one of his t-shirts, turns his head respectfully when needed but still helping when you get tangled and confused. he hands you water. you take one sip.
âmore,â he insists.
âno.â
âyes.â
you glare at him. he stares back and so you take another sip.
âgood,â he murmurs.
he wipes smudged makeup from under your eyes with a damp cloth, movements surprisingly gentle for someone like him.
âhold still,â he says quietly.
you do his time because itâs him. eventually, he gets you into bed. you flop down dramatically.
ârafeee.â
âyeah?â
you reach for him with grabby hands. âcuddle.â
he huffs out a soft laugh. âyeah, alright.â
he climbs in beside you, and you immediately latch onto him, arms wrapping around his middle, leg thrown over his. he freezes for half a second then relaxes. his arm comes around you, pulling you in properly, hand resting on your back. you sigh, content.
âfeel weird,â you mumble.
âi know,â he says softly, thumb tracing slow circles against you. âitâll pass. just sleep.â
you nuzzle into his chest. âdonât leave.â
his grip tightens just slightly. ânot going anywhere.â
you hum, already drifting off. âlove you,â you whisper again, sleepier this time.
he looks down at you. really looks. his hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face. âyeah,â he murmurs. then, quieter: âi know.â
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you a little closer as your breathing evens out. and he stays exactly like that, awake a while longer, just making sure youâre okay, before finally letting himself drift off too, still wrapped around you like you might disappear if he lets go.
barry was only ever going to be useful to rafe because of the drugs. not because of his sister. rafe didn't even knew you existed. not until he stepped by barry's. he was wearing a simple polo when he entered barry's van. it was hot as rafe grunted, fiddling with his collar, "barry, bro, where you at?"
there was silence before you stepped out, in a massive shirt, clearly not expecting any visitors. rafe's eyes shot to you as you said, "he's not here."
"not here. huh." rafe repeated, looking you up and down, trying to study in what way you could know barry and be sleeping over. "and who are you?"
you scowled as you picked up barry's left over beer cans, holding two between your fingers as you then crossed your arms. "his sister?" you deadpanned.
rafe's eyebrows shut up, "you're barry's sister?" looking at barry, it didn't take two to guess that he didn't have the most perfect genes. but now looking at you? that thought process was an entire lie.
"yes, i'm barry's sister." you snap. "he's not here on sunday's anymore."
"hm." silence fell as you both stared at each other. "since when are you his sister?"
"since birth." you retorted. "now get out." at your harsh tone, rafe's smirk widened. he loved people who didn't talk politely to him (admittedly women) like he was rafe cameron.
by time you'd thrown a beer can at his head and shoved him out the van, rafe cameron was already in love.
being barry's sister, he taught you from a young age that being rude allowed you more space in the world & that was what kept you alive. & rafe was everything you'd seen before: classic rich white boy with expensive ralph-lauren polos and an ego taller than him. he was the type only barry dealt with. you lived in a van and drunk beer like water: by nature and even envy did you not get along with people like rafe.
the next day, you was throwing out the trash when a motorbike went past you. the same guy from yesterday, with that bike not having a single scratch on it. you crossed your arms again as he got off, blue eyes meeting yours as he took his helmet off, "i didn't get your name last time, baby."
"you don't need my name." you said shortly, ready to throw the pair of bin bags you had in your hands at him.
he grinned, squinting slightly. after some silence: "then i might need to tell barry why cops are gonna be in his house with an anonymous tip for drugs when he comes back."
"for my name you'd ratt out your only drug dealer?"
"not the only one." he was double-bluffing here but still! you sighed before telling you his name. he nodded, repeating it, before saying, "i'm rafe."
the name sounded familiar, but you simply brushed it off as barry having said it in passing. "okay."
"wow, not even a â"
"what the fuck do you want?" you interjected.
"seriously, if you're going to ratt out barry â"
"let me take you out."
you blinked. "huh?"
rafe grinned again. "let me take you out." he repeated.
at that grin again ... it clicked. this wasn't some random kook boy called rafe ... it was rafe fucking cameron. the one who was notorious for beating up pogues, getting in fights & overall not a pleasant person to be around. & here he was, asking you out. so you stated the obvious: "i'm a fucking pogue."
rafe's smiled thinned for a second as he scratched the back of his head. "yeah, well, whatever."
you narrowed your eyes. "this joke isnt funny. talk to me one time and i'll call the cops on you for what you did to their dear friend, peterkin."
god fucking damn. he was silent & still as he watched you storm back to your van & slam th edoor shut. frankly he didn't know whether to be impressed or irritated. maybe both? he genuinely did want to know you, but your attitude only made him want you more.
sunday dragged by too slowly. within what felt like hours did rafe finally appear at barry's van. he knocked too loudly which was opened by a disgruntled barry. "man, what the â oh hey country club!"
rafe barely looked at barry. he didn't even care about his new tooth. gold or silver he wasn't even looking. "you have it?"
barry inched the door slightly shut. "what you looking for? my sister told me you dropped by."
when rafe was certain you weren't in eyesight, he rubbed his nose a little too hard. "just some cocaine."
"'kay, got ya." barry kept the door open while rafe collected the cash between his fingers.
when he left, shutting the door behind him, he saw you walking towards the van, clearly gone grocery shopping. you wrinkled your lip as soon as you saw him. "what now, kook?"
"you." rafe said immediately. "it's not some twisted joke. i really do want to go out with you." when you was silent, you took it as further encouragement. "if it goes to shit, then tell every single person you want about peterkin, okay? just â" his hand clenched. "one chance."
"fine." you said eventually. "but you make me a laughing stock of your kook group then you'll end up like peterkin."
warnings - fluff, arguing, kissing, swearing, forbidden love, age gap (reader is 18), pouge!reader x rafe cameron, reader is john bâs little sister, no use of y/n.
- requested by anonymous
summary: rafe and you have craved eachother, yet you were too worried on how your love ones react, regardless of them wanting the best for you they all hate rafe, even as the relationship started you hid it from everyone, especially your brother john b.
đ»
Youâve know Sarah since middle school, you had been walking on the beach when Sarah asked if she could hang with you after being ditched by her friends. You had agreed to her and became inseparable since. You would hang out before, during, and afterschool never caring about eachothers status. But slowly in the friendship, you had noticed Sarahâs developing crush on your brother, John B. You had thought it was meaningless crush since Sarah had started to date Topper.
But overtime the relationship started to plummet and Sarah started getting closer to John B. Of course, no one thought it was weird since they are two people who are good for eachother. Sarah apologized for not ever being upfront about her crush on your brother. You had only hoped for you friendship to stay the same and easily apologized. Well, its only fair if she gets to be with your brother, you can be with hers.
But no, people donât look at Rafe and view him like they do with John B. They look at Rafe and see trouble, problems, and anger. But since you were younger you always knew Rafe was just misunderstood, hearing his meltdowns, you knew he just needed someone there for him. Rafe had always had an eye out for you. He saw you as his sisters cute best friend and never complained when you were around.
Rafe had noticed when you developed a crush on him and started to entertain it. He would finish showering and come downstairs with only a towel wrapped around his waist, knowing it was just you and Sarah home. He would always hold eye contact until you felt the need to look away. âCan you believe my brother, just walking around like he owns this place.â Sarah says disgusted. You just nod your head, ignoring the thoughts about her brother in your head.
One day when you were over at Sarahâs, she had gone up to take a shower and you were cleaning up the mess you two made after baking cookies. You tried to reach up to grab a rag but couldnât get it. After your failed attempts you felt a warm body behind you, Rafe, you thought he was still out. He reached and grab the rag for you, he stood there waiting for you to turn around despite how close you two were.
You turned around, feeling his chest on yours, you breath starting to get heavy. You grabbed the rag he was holding, but he kept his grip on it, using it to pull your face closer to his. You couldnât let Sarah see this, her and all your friends hate Rafe with a capital H, not to mention how your brother would kill you. âOkay Rafe, stop before Sarah seeâs.â You say, knowing deep down you want him to keep his motives. He let a low scoff, âYou think thatâs what my sister told your brother when they began falling for eachother behind your back.â He said looking into your eyes.
Rafeâs words hit you more than they shouldâve, whatâs the big deal if you and Rafe get together? Rafe reads your face and seeâs you fighting off your desires. âHey, relax, itâs just me..â Rafe whispered, leaning his face towards yours. âNobody finds out about this Rafe.â You whisper, staring at his lips. âJust say the word beautiful.â He said with a slight grin. You hear the shower shut off, realizing time is running out. You nod your head for barely a second when Rafe leans in and kisses you.
Once his lips met yours, you both sighed, finally relived after all the built up tension. You let go of the rag and grabbed Rafeâs face and hair. He grinned into the kiss feeling you grow desperate, he let go of the rag and grabbed your waist and your hair. When you tried to pull away he brought you back in and you felt his tounge poke your bottom lip, in which you opened enough for your tounges to move with eachother.
He pulled away and you whined at the loss of contact. He brought his hand to your mouth and whispered, âYouâre welcome for the rag.â He left a quick kiss on your lips and walked away, you were confused on why but when you turned around you see Sarah barely walking into the kitchen after her shower. âWas my brother in here?â She asked. âYeah, he just got a rag for me and left.â You responded quickly. She nodded and turned around. You let out a breath, still trying to process what happened.
Now itâs seven months later, you and Rafe and started dating 2 months after he kissed you and now keep your relationship secret until you feel confident enough to confess to your friends and brother. You and Rafe were at the beach late at night, enjoying the waves and eachothers company.
âDo I have to bring it up since you donât want to talk about it.â Rafe murmured. Your back was pressed against his chest as you were both in eachothers warmth after being in the beaches cool water. You sighed and put Rafeâs arms around you to hold you, âIâll tell them soon, I promise.â You said. He sighed into your hair, âYouâve been saying that for the past 4 months.â He whispered. You sat there and thought about how to come clean to the people you love about the one person they hate.
But you love Rafe, so much, and you know he doesnât care if your a pouge and heâs a kook, he just wants people to know your his. Despite his views, he understands why you would be hesitant to tell your friends. Itâs not a secret that Rafe had anger issues in his past days. But since your guys relationship started, Rafe has became a better man for you, to prove to you that he is willing to be yours. No other guy has ever donât that for you and you wouldnât want anyone else but Rafe.
Which is why you were so worried to tell your friends, they wouldnât understand how much you loved Rafe, not even his own sister. So for now youâre keeping it a secret but soon enough, youâll build up the courage to tell them. Rafe noticed your shiver and you both decided to head back home before someone gets sick. You both packed up while stealing small kisses from eachother.
You both start walking towards Rafeâs car, taking out your phone to check if John B was home.
you: u home? 8:15pm
birdie: nah might stay out tn, donât wait up. 8:17pm
You let Rafe know it was okay to drop you off home since John B was out. On the ride home Rafe kept insisting on staying over for the night, but all you were too worried about the risks. âCâmon, no oneâs home and I need to make sure you stay safe.â Rafe whines, you guys are parked a street down from your house, just incase people donât see the kook princes car. Rafe is holding onto the back of your neck, begging you with his eyes.
You sigh, âFine, but no funny business.â You say finally giving in. His grin grows and he leans in to kiss you. He gets out the car and opens the door for you, grabbing your stuff you guys head towards your house. You open the door and instantly head towards the shower. Locking the door and dropping your stuff in your room, you and Rafe head to shower.
In the shower Rafe made sure not to upset you, and kept it friendly. You guys watched eachothers hair, making sure the sand gets out. âMay I was your beautiful body princess.â Rafe asked cheekily. You let out a laugh and nodded your head. He was gentle with you, making sure you were squeaky clean and kept putting bubbles on you. After washing it off you turned to him, âYour turn.â You said smiling. The entire time you were washing him, he couldnât stop smiling and giving you compliments.
âYouâre so beautiful.â He said grabbing your face as you were putting soap on his chest. You leaned up and gave him a soft kiss in which he returned quickly. As you leaned back, you rested your forehead on his, enjoying eachothers company. As you finished your shower, you felt yourself fighting sleep. Rafe helped you put on your clothes and laid you down on your bed. You watched as he put on his boxers and sweats that you hide in your closet before heading into bed with you.
âI love you, you know.â You tell Rafe, cuddling into his neck. He grabs your face and tilts it up to look at him, âI love you.â He says, looking into your eyes. You smile at him and snuggle your face into his neck. You and Rafe were getting comfortable in the warmth of eachother, all that could be heard is the loud noise of your broken fan. âDamn, remind me to get you a new fan.â Rafe joked, before you could laugh at his joke, all you hear is stumbling in your house.
âMy sister has the advil, take me to her room.â John Bâs voice slurred outside your door. Before you and Rafe could react, John B, Sarah, Kie, JJ, Pope, and Cleo barge through your door, smelling like booze and sweat. âGet the fuck out!â You try yelling, attempting to hide Rafe behind your back with your blanket. âRafe?â Sarah said, her face turning into disbelief next to a disgusted John B, while everyone else turned amused. âWhat the fuck is he doing here?â JJ asked.
âYou guys want to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.â You whisper panicking while Rafe was still holding you, now with a frustrated face at your friends. âBelieve me when I say we are mad at you. Rafe? We suspect this from, but youâre my sister, youâre supposed to know better.â John B slurred. Sarah went to say something and before she could speak, âDonât say shit Sarah.â Rafe said firmly.
âExcuse me?â She responded offended. You feel the tension rising between the two siblings. âRelax.â You whispered to Rafe. âNah, Sarah you cheated on Top with your best friends brother, this isnât the end of the world. You two need to stop acting like hypocrites.â Rafe said, annoyed at the situation. Sarah chose to stay silent after Rafeâs words hit her hard. âThis is who you want to waste your time with?â John B scoffed.
You felt anger creep into your skin after your brothers harsh words, âWasting my time?â You questioned. Before John B could respond, âRafe is the only person that chooses to be with me because he wants too, you care so much about your new girlfriend and friends that you canât even spare a day to spend time with your sister.â Your voice cracking at the last word. Rafeâs hand didnât leave your back, comforting you through whatever this situation was. John B stood there, still tipsy, not knowing how to respond. Sarah whispered your name, âNo, cause you were supposed to be my best friend yet youâve occupied yourself with my brother and his friends, did you forget I was here too?â You said.
Rafe was pissed at how much you were hurt by the people you told him cared about you the most. âHow long?â John B asked. âSeven months,â Rafe replied before you could, âSeven fucking months your sister was worried about how you would react to this, and she wasnât wrong about it either because look at how stupid all of you look. Nobody gave a shit when Sarah started dating you but God forbid I start falling for your sister.â Rafe said, hard and clear for everyone to hear.
âJust get out.â You whispered, too exhausted to argue back. Pope and Cleo gave an apologetic smile, while JJ and Kie just walked out. âIâm sorry.â John B whispered and walked out holding Sarahâs hand, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. They shut the door and Rafe quickly got up to lock it. He got back into bed with you while murmuring curses towards them. âMâ sorry Rafe, they just donât so you like I do.â You said sadly. âDonât fucking apologize for them, I could never be mad at you, Iâm sorry for how they treated you.â He said gently holding your face in his hand while the other caressing your back.
You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his scent. âI love you Rafe.â You said gently. âI love you more than you know, now sleep and forget about them, tomorrow will be a new day for us.â He said kissing your temple, holding you closer. You leave a kiss under his ear, feeling his grin grow against your head. âGoodnight Rafe.â You said . âGoodnight princess.â He says, gently massaging your hair as you two fall asleep.
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âcall- call her right nowâ rafeâs voice is faint but recognizable through the phone five seconds after topper called you in the middle of the night. âdude sheâs already on the call.â topper replies, followed by a loud shuffling noise as rafe harshly grabs the phone from him, losing balance and almost falling off the couch while doing so.
âheyyy..come to the party i wanna see you.â rafe slurs out. you roll your eyes, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. âare you kidding me? itâs 2am rafe. you guys woke me up im not going anywhere.â you reply in annoyance.
you hear the phone being passed around again, until it lands on toppers voice. âplease iâm begging you just come pick him up. heâs like fucking high and drunk as shit and he says he wonât stop drinking until you come-â
âdonât fuckinâ tell her thatâ you hear rafe interrupt.
âdude shut up youâre seriously so fucked.â topper responds, âanyways please come just pull up for a second.â he begs. âtopper iâm not going to your house at 2am i have to wake up early tomorrow. just tell rafe to snap out of it heâll be fine.â
âheâs literally pouting as you say that right now.â topper says, glancing to his side where rafe is sitting there half slumped attentively trying to listen to your voice.
âwha-whatâs she sayinâ? is she coming?â you hear on the line, clawing your heart slightly at how desperate he sounds. âshe said sheâs not coming broâ you hear topper reply.
âoh my god fine iâll come. just stop him from drinking or getting high or whatever the fuck heâs doing. ill leave now.â you reply, gaining a sigh of relief from topper.
when you reach the house the thumping music already starts to hurt your head. people greet you on your way in, not forgetting to mention something about how ârafe hasnât stopped talking about youâ and that âheâs been looking for you this whole time.â
you move through the busy, sweaty crowd looking for the familiar figure. when you finally find him, he spots you from across the room and immediately tries to stand up opening his arms widely. his intoxication however leads him to stumble and lose balance as topper helps him up, shaking his head in irritation. âthanks for coming seriously i owe you one-â topper starts but gets interrupted by rafeâs slurred voice saying âohhhh my god youâre here..i missed you so bad.â
rafe wraps his arms around your waist, giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek to which you freeze, taken aback. topper and kelce look just as confused as you, asking âsince when does rafe cameron kiss you? you guys a thing or what?â you respond shaking your head which is now buried deep in his chest, saying âsince never? weâre not a thing heâs just drunk.â
after saying your byes you attempt to drag rafe through the crowd but itâs hard when other drunk people who are unaware of their surroundings keep bumping into you. ânobody touch my girl iâll fuckinâ kill youâ rafe inaudibly shouts to some guy next to you as you whisper, ârafe please shut up itâs embarrassing.â
the car ride home is unexpectedly silent. you occasionally glance over at rafe who sits there sloppily, pupils blown wide and eyes half lidded. âyou okay?â you ask. âiâm okay baby.â he smiles, turning his droopy head towards you. âwhy are you calling me that? and that kiss earlier? whatâs up with you?â you question, a bit frustrated.
âbut you are my baby.â he mutters under his breath. âno iâm not rafe, weâre just friends. and youâve literally never said that before today.â
âso what? i canât- i canât call you shit now?â rafe argues.
âyou sure youâre not just horny? no offense rafe but you usually never call me when youâre drunk because youâre too busy fucking some random girl.â
your statement makes rafeâs eyebrows knit and you can see the pure offense on his face. âwow okay.â he goes silent. âlook i didnt mean it like that,â you start, trying to keep your eyes on the road and focus on driving. âiâm just confused on why youâre all of a sudden acting like weâre dating.â
rafe opens his mouth to say something, but then hesitates and closes it again. when you finally arrive at his house, you quickly get out of the car and walk around, opening the passenger side door to which he immediately leans into you. you help him out of the car, one of his arms over your shoulder as you quietly bring him upstairs to his room.
rafe immediately flops on the bed, lying on his back as he opens both arms urging you to join. âplease i need you.â he whispers. you can feel your face reddening as you slowly walk over, gently sitting down on the bed next to his figure. he drags your body down, engulfing you into his embrace. his skin radiates warmth, flushed from the alcohol and you can almost smell his cologne buried in the scent of weed.
you look up at his face noticing how heâs sloppily smiling as he looks back at you, hair all ruffled up. you almost miss the way his pupils dialate as he watches you run your fingers through it. âyouâre so fuckinâ pretty.â he says.
you stay silent as you convince yourself itâs just the alcohol and drugs talking, not him. ârafe donât say stuff like that.â you quietly respond. âwhy not? itâs true.â he says, half lidded eyes never once leaving your face. âyou just- you canât. weâre not like that.â
you sit up slightly from your position attempting to snap back into your thoughts. âlet me go pick out some fresh clothes for you, you can take a warm shower and clean up. how about that?â you ask. âno, not yet.â he says, pulling you back down onto the bed next to him. your face flushes when you notice how close it is to his.
âit wasnât a question-â you say, but you get cut off by his lips crashing into yours. his tongue grazes along your bottom lip as if heâs asking for permission. you freeze for a second before letting his tongue slip into your mouth as you gently kiss him back; he cups your cheek with his palm, his thumb slowly stroking your cheek up and down.
you can taste the alcohol from him, bringing you back to reality as you pull away.
ârafe youâre drunk. we shouldnât be doing this-â
âiâm so in love with you.â he admits. your eyes go wide as you shake your head.
âthatâs not even funny rafe. donât say shit like that when youâre not sober.â
the words hang between you, swallowed by the silence. his expression falters for just a second like heâs searching for the right words but coming up empty.
âbut itâs not a fuckinâ joke. i promise.â he pleads with his eyes. âiâll say it again in the morning.. i just need you right now.â he says, pulling your lips back onto his.
summary: peter parker, who craves human connection so much that he hears his neighbor jerking off through his shitty, paper-thin apartment bedroom wall and gets FAR too carried away with it
wc: 1.1k
cw: gn reader (no pronouns or body descriptors used), NSFW (mdni), male (peter)!masturbation, kinda dubcon bc reader doesn't know he's listening to them masturbating, pervy and deperate!peter core, being caught, FUCK AI
peter came crashing through his open window with anything other than grace after a shitty night of patrolling, groaning as he read through his cracked phone screen that it was nearing one in the morning. it had been a long evening defined by creepy men in alleyways, and frank giving him shit over something he was definitely not in the mood to deal with tonight.
he began to strip his suit, frustration buzzing off his skin as he tried to peel the hot spandex from his sweaty body, damp curls sticking to his forehead and dripping into his eyes. every one of his senses was overwhelmed; they had been for hours. the streetlights growing brighter as the night wore him out, the smell of sewer still trapped in his nose from his earlier fight, his ears ringing and latching on to every single sound around him -- even still. his clock ticking. the traffic outside. the hum of his shitty fucking radiator, and peter tried his best to steady his breath, to not have a fucking breakdown as his ears tuned in to every single fucking sound in the goddamn apartment complex, and-
oh
oh.
so that's what a siren song sounds like.
peter heard your soft moans through his paper-thin walls -- walls he hated for their shitty quality until this moment.
god bless this shitty ass drywall.
and suddenly, you were the only thing peter could hear. hours of constant noise instantly drown out by the most beautiful noise he'd ever heard: you. he stopped to think about it for a moment; peter knew better. he shouldn't be listening to this. he'd only met you a handful of times, and this was an insane invasion of your privacy, and-
peter bit back a groan as he palmed himself through his briefs, suit pooled and forgotten at his ankles. he wished he were more embarrassed by how quickly he got hard. he wished he hadn't slowly climbed onto his bed to get more comfortable, to hear you more clearly.
at the end of the day, peter parker was still human.
he shuffled his way out of his briefs, choking on a moan as his heavy cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. he spit as quietly as he could into his palm, gripping himself loosely. it wasn't like peter wasn't used to touching himself. but he was so sensitive in your proximity, his body so desperately craving someone else. even if they were a wall away. even if they didn't know. maybe especially then.
peter listened to your muffled moans and the soft sound of you touching yourself through the wall, his imagination running wild with the possibilities. he imagined your hands all over your body, envisioned all the ways you could be making yourself feel so good right now.
he tried to be quiet, but he began to lose himself a bit as he fantasized about you with desperate, cut-off whines leaving his lips. in his head, your moans only grew louder for him. he closed his eyes and he could hear it: the way you sped up, and the soft whimpers from your throat that turned to unraveled moans deep from your chest.
he understood how the sailors lost their minds to such songs.
he didn't mean to, but peter had picked up on your heartbeat, noting the rapid rate and flutters indicating you were close. peter wasn't far behind you already, the whispers of your pleasure through the drywall enough to get him to the edge, his tip weeping as he stroked faster. he wanted to come with you, so fucking badly. even if he couldn't see it, even if he was such a fucking freak and you had no idea. he really, really didn't care right now. he needed it.
he heard a sharp cry from the room next to him as his stomach tightened and his balls drew up, all of his senses suddenly flooded with the overwhelming scent of you.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-" peter groaned, spilling harshly from his twitching, angry cock, his cum painting his bare and sweaty chest. he heaved louder than he meant to as he fought to catch his breath from the near-blinding orgasm, slapping a hand over his mouth the second he remembered himself. he prayed to thor the walls on your side were somehow more muffled than his.
he figured it was loki, instead, who answered the prayer when peter heard a soft knock on his front door, and all semblance of dignity he had left drained from his body.
he practically fell from his bed, shouting a cracked "just a minute!" as peter crudely wiped himself with a towel from the floor as quickly as possible. he scrambled to find something to cover up with, settling on a pair of yelena's juicy couture sweats and a black tank he hoped landed low enough on his stomach to cover the leftover sin that was drying on his abs.
there was another round of knocking, slightly louder this time, and peter swore loudly as he tripped over his backpack on his way to the door. he peaked out the peephole and plead with the god of mischief as he saw you standing outside his door, random pajamas tossed on in a similar state to his.
peter opened the door slowly, hoping his face wasn't as red as he knew it was. he cleared his throat, "h-hey! hi, what's up? h-how's the night going? so far, i mean. not that anything has happened. like, at this hour of the night, i mean."
you stared at him for a moment, allowing him to take in your appearance, realizing he must look about the same. his guilt is quickly buried and resurrected in kind as he found his cock twitching at the way your hair was tussled, cheeks flushed, and sleep shorts low on your waist. he suppressed a smile as the shame crept back in at the way you met his eyes with knowledge he hoped you didn't have. knew you did have.
you left him conflicted, however, as your lips cocked into a slight smirk and you crossed your arms before whispering a soft, "you could've just knocked, you know."
peter's eyes widened, mouth agape as he searched for a response. you didn't give him a chance as you smirked and walked back to your apartment, flashing a wink at him before disappearing. peter jumped as you banged against the kitchen wall to his right, your voice distant but clear as you spoke to him: "next time, maybe?"
OMG PULEASE DO MORE JOHNNY STUFFđ«°đ€€đ€€đ«°đ«°
đ->âïž hi anon!!! I have posted a new Johnny x secretary!Reader but I am always wanting requests with ideasđ thank you everyone for liking my work check my master list for more and requests are always welcome!!
A/N: I watched secretary 2002 and I had to do this im sorry!! Sorry this took so long I have been getting tons of requests for more Johnny stuff!! I just am not enjoying anything I was writing!!đ„č
Summary: after applying for a job as a secretary, you begin working for Johnny Knoxville, a famous journalist, and your relationship develops into something more within both of you.
Warnings: spankings, dom!johnny x sub!reader
Being at a lost, I flipped opened the job offers page of this mornings news, sipping my herbal tea before placing it to my left.
Secretary.
I read it, circled it quickly in red ink, red the colour of blood.
A few days later, after spending hours on picking an outfit, I showed up at the office.
âMister Knoxville? I-Iâm here for the secretary job?â I spoke, almost as if I was asking a question, my uncertainty clear. Wether this uncertainty was nervousness about not getting the job, or the man infront of me, a desirable look on his face which allured me in.
He said nothing, just invited me to sit, which i obeyed, hanging over my resume as I took a seat, smoothing out my skirt and easing my leg not to bounce rapidly like a bunny.
âCan you type?âhe spoke coldly, not even looking up from my resume.
âY-yes sir, I did a year in typing school.â
âI see, and top of your class.â He admired, but you couldnât tell from his deadpan expression. Clearing his throat, he finally looked over my curated reel of my past lives before speaking again, âwe use typewriters here, no computers, this job is dull and boring.â
âI-I like dull and boring, sirâ
The pink bows in my hair stated otherwise.
The next day, I showed up for my first day of work, ecstatic, having my own desk and phone and papers and pens made me excited.
I answered a few calls, passed on many messages and typed out a lot of things which Mr Knoxville requested of me.
This continued for months, but so did the eye contact, and lingering hands on each other when I handed him paperwork.
A special day came quick, but I was immediately taken to his office, my hands basically shook instantly as I stepped into the room, the cold atmosphere created by Johnnyâs persona snd the lighting of the room hit my ankles with a swift impact.
âYouâve been making too many mistakes.â He grumbled, handing me the papers I remember typing the fat before, mistakes highlighted in crimson ink which burnt through the pages. âThat wonât fly here.â His hand traveled down my back as I flicked through my mistakes.
âI-Iâm sorry mister-â I blurted out, squealing as he squeezed my backside roughly.
Moments later, I was bent over the desk as he prepared his hand. A harsh slap filled the full room followed by my whimper as he landed a blow on my backside.
âMistakes wonât fly here.â He repeated several times as he repeated his motions.
My eyes teared up, as I stared down at the wooden grains of his expensive table, almost memorising each twist and turn.
Although I cried , I loved it, and relished in this attention, never wanting it to end.
This happened continuously, sometimes I purposefully made simple mistakes, so heâd hit me harder. As he caught on, the punishments got worse. The carpet soothed my knees as I pressed them against it, my palms guiding me to his office as I held the paperwork between my teeth.
He made me feel and look pathetic and we both loved it.
everyone knew rafe was madly in love with you ever since you guys had become inseparable at the ripe age of 14. well, except for you. people would always ask why someone so loving and kind as you would ever put up with rafe and his violent, cruel behavior. the truth was, he never acted that way in front of you. rafe had perfected his innocent act whenever he was around you, and did everything in his power to keep it up. he couldnât bear the thought of you looking at him like everyone else did, especially when he was so in love with you that he could drop to his knees anytime you talked to him.
that naturally led to you being extremely confused every time someone asked something along the lines of, âheâs so dangerous, you really shouldnât be hanging around himâ or ârafe cameron is bad news.â you would just furrow your eyebrows and respond, âbut heâs so nice.â
so it definitely wasnât pretty when he got caught red handed as you walked in on him and his friends holding JJ by his neck, just about to lunge at him.
âhold him still. what- what do you think? a four iron, right?â rafeâs voice booms through the halls of midsummers, and your face brightens as you finally find him. however as you walk towards the noise, your heart drops as you realize rafe is not actually talking about golf. âalright keep his head still. âm gonna line this up.â
âvery rafe of you rafe, five on one?â JJ chokes out. âokay if you could please stop talking? itâs very disrespectful when iâm trying to hit a ball alright? learn your etiquette my friend.â you quickly rush in, gasping at the sight of kelce choking JJ and rafe acting as if heâs about to swing. âwhat the hell is going on?â you let out. rafeâs face immediately drops as he stands up straight, awkwardly clearing his throat as the room goes silent.
ânothing- nothing is going on here okay? this is not what it looks like, JJ here just needed a little guidance on the way out.â rafe says. you turn to look at JJ, who is pleading with his eyes, cuts all over his face. âkelce what the fuck? let him go.â you say, walking over and yanking kelceâs arm off of JJ.
ârafe, seriously. what is this? what are you doing?â you ask, still confused on what you just walked in on. you turn to JJ, leaning down to where his head is hanging low. âare you okay?â rafeâs jaw clenches at the sight of you with him, shaking his head letting out a small âjesus christ heâs fuckinâ fine.â to himself. JJ just gives you a quick smile, whispering âiâm alright iâm fine.â
you walk up to rafe whoâs avoiding your eye contact. âyouâre out of your mindâ you scoff, âyou guys are all fucked up.â rafe laughs at the comment, getting overtaken by anger as his facade starts to slip. âout of my mind? OUT OF MY MIND? youâre seriously defending this pogue piece of shit? over- over me?â his voice starts to get louder. ârafe, man chill-â some kook says beside him.
security bursts through the door at that moment, JJ saying something about a âcriminal trespassâ and how he should be escorted out. you donât process whatâs happening as your mind starts to race, thinking of what would have happened if you didnât walk in. memories come flooding in of everyone who had ever warned you about rafe.
rafe seemed to have snapped back into his thoughts, as he walked towards you lifting both arms up in âsurrender.â âlook. how âbout we forget what just happened and go back to the party, yeah? iâll go get us some drinks-â he starts, but you cut him off saying, âno, rafe. tell me what you were doing to JJ before i came in. why are you acting like this? you never do this.â you say as the guys next to you laugh in pure disbelief about how clueless you are of his actions. it makes you feel stupid.
âi wasnât doing anything, baby. you believe me right? i wouldnât lie to you. now cmon letâs go enjoy the party.â you scoff at his blatant lie, grabbing his hand and dragging him to a nearby balcony where itâs now just the two of you. âwhy were those guys laughing when i said that? is this what itâs about? how everyone keeps telling me that youâre-â
âit doesnât matter what everyone tells you, i-i treat you well donât i? tonight was just a mistake and you should have never been there-â he rambles, starting to panic at your persistence. âand if i wasnât? then what would have happened?â you argue.
ânothing- nothing would have happened.â he rubs his palms against his forehead, clearly stressed out. âit just feels like youâre hiding something from me. like everyone else knows something i donât and they think iâm stupid.â
âwho said youâre stupid? youâre not fuckinâ stupid- who the fuck said that to you?â rafeâs blood starts to boil again at the thought of someone belittling you like that over him. âthat doesnât matter, rafe. what matters is you telling me the truth. which youâre not doing.â you cross your arms.
âi am telling you the truth.â
âyou swear?â
âi promise.â
âi canât believe you can just lie to me like that!â you say, shaking your head and turning on your heels as rafe desperately tries to get a hold of your wrist. âhey wait- please you canât just walk away, youâre seriously leaving because- because of what i did to some pogue? do you care about him more than me? is-is that what youâre saying right now?â he starts but youâre already walking away, leaving him a mess scrambling to follow you out.
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rafeâs voice echoed through the house as he unknowingly thud down the stairs. âwheezie, seriously- what the fuck did i say about having people over.. itâs fuckinâ 9 in the morning.â his eyes widen slightly when he finally sees you in the kitchen next to wheezie, baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
âuh.. hey sorry i didnât-â rafe stumbles on his words as wheezie snorts, clearly amused. she had caught onto rafeâs crush on you ever since you first babysat her a few months ago. but for whatever reason, rafe had become more and more awkward with you as time went by. âyeah? what about having people over?â she teases as you mix the dough cluelessly next to her.
âshut ur mouthâ he quickly mouths to her when youâre not looking. rafe leans against the kitchen counter, trying way too hard to look casual. âuhâŠsmells good.â he coughs out. âthanks rafe. hopefully i donât burn them like last timeâ you joke. he responds with a short laugh as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
âjeez rafe did you forget how to socialize? or is it just because you have a big fat crush on-â rafe rushes over to wheezie, clamping his hand over her mouth before she can say anything more. âignore her. she gets a little crazy in the morningâ he says, wheezie slapping his hand away from her face.
âi do not get crazy in the morning. i donât even know why i need a babysitter, i mean im 14. no offense by the wayâ she says turning to you. ânone takenâ you smile. âi just know itâs because rose hates me and doesnât want me to have freedomâ wheezie says as she rolls her eyes. âbut itâs fine, rafe really likes having you around anyways.â
your cheeks turn pink as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. âhuh? what does that even mean?â you look up at rafe, who is now shooting daggers at wheezie and whispering something underneath his breath. âshe just means that uh- that-â he gets cut off by wheezie who just canât hold it in anymore. âi mean that rafe has a huge crush on you.â your eyes widen as you look over at rafe who stands with his face buried in his palms. you can see how red his face is through his fingers.
âi- i gotta go. topper n kelce are waiting for me at the country clubâ he quickly replies, grabbing his car keys off the counter and heading to the door. âwheezie im gonna fuckin kill you laterâ he says as he gives you a awkward smile and closes the door behind him.
âwhat the hell was that?â you ask wheezie stifling a laugh. âi didnât even lie, i mean he does have a fat crush on you. itâs so obvious like our entire family knows it at this point. sarah pointed it out at first and i was like no way.. but then i noticed he started getting all blushy and shy when you come over..i was like ew but then-â she starts to ramble as you cut her off. âokay okay stopâ you say as your ears turn red in disbelief.
ášłàŹ . newly-wed sweetheart!reader cooks for toxic!rafe
the kitchen was warm with the scent of melted butter, fresh herbs, and the faint sweetness of lavender drifting in through the open window. golden evening light spilled across the marble countertops, making everything glow in soft honeyed hues. the pale blue apron rafe had bought you for your anniversary fluttered around your legs each time you twirled between the stove and the counter, the ribbon bow swaying against the small of your back.
your freshly manicured hands moved with careful eagerness as you worked. you hadn't cooked for rafe in what felt like forever, and he'd certainly made his disappointment knownânot just to you, but to every one of his friends and their girlfriends whenever they'd come over. his mouth would curl with that familiar teasing grin as he'd tell them all about the fast food you'd brought home instead of making dinner yourself.
today, though, you were determined to be the good girl he'd married.
with quiet concentration, you assembled warm sandwiches and stirred a pot of creamy soup, silently hoping he'd like it. maybe it'd put him in a better mood. maybe he'd smile.
the sudden slam of the front door echoed through the house.
a second later, his bag hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.
"i'm home."
no "hey, honey."
no "baby."
not even your name.
your stomach tightened.
shit.
he was mad, wasn't he?
lost in thought, your fingers slipped for only a second. your knuckle grazed the scorching rim of the pot.
"ah!"
you yelped, immediately bringing your finger between your lips, sucking softly against the sharp, white-hot sting. every time you pulled it away, the pain flared all over again.
"fuck are you doin'?"
you looked up.
rafe stood in the doorway, one eyebrow furrowed as he looked you over from head to toe. his eyes kept drifting back to the finger tucked between your lips.
before you could react, he crossed the kitchen in a few long strides.
his large hand wrapped around your wrist, gently pulling it toward him so he could inspect the burn. his touch was firm but careful.
you suddenly felt the need to explain yourself.
"um... iâ it... this... well, my finger..."
his eyes lifted to meet yours.
you could never tell if your flustered stammering amused him or irritated him.
maybe both.
"i burnt my finger while... while cooking for you," you mumbled, gesturing timidly toward the stove.
his expression softenedâonly a little.
"well," he said, his voice lighter than before, "you gon' let me taste it?"
your entire face brightened.
hope bloomed inside you so quickly it almost hurt.
you hurried back to the stove, scooping a small spoonful of soup before carefully blowing on it. once it had cooled enough, you held the spoon out to him.
he leaned forward and tasted it.
for a brief second, he said nothing.
then his face twisted.
"jesus..." he muttered.
"this is shit."
he turned toward the sink, spitting it out before wiping his hands absentmindedly against the front of your apron.
the casual contact sent a flicker of warmth through your chest, cruelly clashing against the heavy disappointment settling there.
you stared down at the floor.
"will you, uh... will you just order some popeyes or some shit?"
"...okay."
your voice was barely above a whisper.
you nodded without looking up.
"thanks, doll."
he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss against your forehead before turning and disappearing toward your shared bedroom.
the kitchen suddenly felt much quieter.
the soup still simmered gently on the stove, filling the room with warmth that no longer reached you.
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