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all1e23 · 2 years

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Bad Habit [Pt.2]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings: Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank – No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N: I’m doing my best to get my wips finished by the end of the year so fingers crossed I actually do so.--- LOL guys I wrote that last year. I guess here is part 2. Enjoy? Un-beta’d just as a warning for lots of typos.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

You hadn’t expected to be nervous about your date with Steve. Friends date. It wasn’t a real date. You made it clear you didn’t want a relationship. All you could offer him was friends with benefits. There was no point in trying for a real relationship. You were far from okay after your last break-up and the idea of letting in someone like him wasn’t an option. Sure, he may not be as ruthless, as cutthroat and vicious, as some of the other club members you’ve met but, he was still the president of a biker gang. You could hear Natasha’s voice in your head, reminding you that they were a club and not a gang. You’ve heard that excuse a few times. It was always bullshit.

Club or gang. President or member. Real or faking it. It really didn’t matter. They were all the same in the end.

Your phone pinged from your pocket and the butterflies in your stomach told you it was Steve before you ever looked at it. It wasn’t anything special. He was excited to see you. If anyone was around to see the size of your grin you would have been embarrassed.

Fuck. He make it so hard to remember the whole friends thing was your idea. You didn’t want to admit how much you liked him. He was sweet and surprisingly funny. He spoke about the world in an idealistic way that made your heart ache in the best damn way. It wasn’t as though he was a dreamer. He truly believed that the world should be that way and when it wasn’t he took steps to make it that way. Even if they were small steps. You liked that. You also liked the way he looked at you. He looked at you like you were something special and for a minute he actually had you believing he wasn’t going to break your heart the first chance he got.

Thankfully, your common sense and self-preservation came back before the handsome asshole showed up in your driveway.

“Hey, Firecracker,” he greeted with a crooked smile and your stomach flipped from just the tiny curl of his lip.

On second thought, you were so fucked.

You pulled the helmet from his hand and swung your leg over the back of his back, slipping it over your head. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself. Yeah, yeah, you’re beautiful. Cocky jerk,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. The rumbling laugh that fell from his lips did something to you you didn’t want to examine in the moment so you pushed it down and told yourself it was a moment of insanity. On your part or his you couldn’t be sure just yet.

Thankfully riding on the bike gave you the quiet to get your head clear. There was no chance of him whispering some charming line that made you forget all the reasons why falling for him was a bad idea. You sunk against his back and let your chin rest on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your face against his neck. He was annoying how easy it felt to give into him. Steve’s hand dropped down to your shin and his thumb rubbed back and forth, catching your smile in the side mirror and you playfully rolled your eyes when you saw him watching you and stuck out your tongue. He laughed and squeezed your leg, leaving his hand there until he was forced to move it on the next turn. So you liked when he touched you. Big deal. Who didn’t like when a gorgeous man touched them? It didn’t mean whatever the hell he thought it meant.

By the time the bike came to a stop you were warm and fuzzy from more than just the sunshine. The fuzzy feeling quickly faded as a frown tugged at her lips. He took you to the lake? This wasn’t what you were expecting. It was a public park with a well known, very popular lake taking up most of the middle. You’ve run around it several times and have seen plenty of couples having picnics and families bringing their kids to play. You just hadn’t expected Steve to bring you here for your date. Friend date. You took the hand Steve held out for your and swung your leg over the bike, your boots kicking tiny bits of gravel out from under you. What was he trying to pull by bringing you here?

Steve was quiet as he laid the blanket he brought out onto the grass a few feet away from his bike and you were grateful. You needed a second to breathe and understand what was expected of you. A dinner you could handle. There was a start and end time. Bathrooms to escape to and waiters to interrupt. You could stuff your mouth with bread when he asked something a a little too personal. So, you could still do that but it would be less acceptable without a basket of complimentary bread between you. He dropped to his knees and looked up at you, an expect look on his face and your mouth went dry at the sight.

If you hadn’t been so confused you would have combusted right then and there. You took his hand and sat down on the blanket next to him, glancing over everything he brought. Natasha obviously helped him pick out things you would like and you weren’t sure what to make of that either.

“Why do you have that look on your face? Like you’re debating whether or not you’re going to punch me.” The question in Steve’s voice caught your attention and you realized you were frowning as you took in your surroundings.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” you murmured, quiet and unsure. You didn’t know how to react to something like this. It wasn’t something you were used to. Steve, quite adorably, tilted his head to the side and asked, “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered thoughtfully. What had you expected from him? “You trying to win me over or something. Taking me some place you couldn't afford just to prove that you could. Showing off your position within the club and the city by getting us in somewhere fancy. Letting me know just how important and powerful you are in the community.”

Steve brushed his hair out of his face but his bangs flopped back in front of his face and your heart ached at the sight. It begged you to kiss him. Just once. One little taste of his lips to satisfy the hunger he brought out in you. He looked so gorgeous and maybe a little shy, unsure of how to respond to your assumption of him. There was a frown sitting on his face that didn’t look like it quite belonged there and the urge kiss away his worries was hard to resist.

“You’ve dated some real assholes I take it,” he finally said, watching you closely and you had to look away from him. He was good at knowing what was written on your heart before you were ready for him to read it.

“You could say that,” you muttered purposely quietly.

“I’m not really into the whole powerplay thing.”

He propped himself up on his left elbow and popped a blueberry into the air, catching it in his mouth with little effort. For a split second you wondered how sweet his kiss would be with the taste of berries on his tongue. He smirked as if he could read your thoughts and you quickly looked away, grabbing one of the small sandwiches he prepared to help distract yourself from thoughts of how soft his lips felt against your skin.

"What things are you into?" you inquired, hoping to avoid anymore distracting thoughts. That had to be a safe subject, didn’t it? It would likely be something along the lines of working on his bike or hanging at the bar with Bucky. There was the high chance it would have something to do with the club and that would be enough to remind her why she should stay away from him.

"Art mostly. I like to draw. Charcoal. Paint on occasion,” he responded causally, so casually you nearly dropped the sandwich in your hand and Steve chuckled a little. "What? Wasn't expecting that either?"

"No. No I wasn't,” your voice was surprisingly soft and you picked at the sleeve of your sweater, forgetting the food all together. Maybe this was a bad idea. You liked him more than you wanted to admit from that first night and now you were only digging yourself into a hole you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

"Hey,” Steve whispered as he nudged your knee gently with his elbow and you looked up to see worry etched over his face. “You okay? Did I say something wrong? We can go somewhere else if you want. I thought you’d like this. You didn't seem like the kind of woman to like-" your lips cut him off before he could finish and he moaned into your mouth. How could you not kiss him? He cared. You realized that shouldn’t be something rare and enticing but you’ve dated enough to know it was.

Despite initiating the kiss you quickly lost control. Steve devoured every piece of you when he kissed you. You’ve never been kissed like this before. In a way that consumed all of you. It left you wanting, desperate for more and that wasn’t a good thing. If you were thinking rationally you would have shoved him away the second the thought popped into your head but you were too focused on the way his hands felt pressing into your back. Your hand twisted around the fabric of his shirt as he pulled you onto his lap, taking advantage of the tiny gasp that left you and slipping his tongue past your lips.

Things were moving too far, too fast and you needed to pull back before you completely lost yourself in his touch. You broke the kiss, slowly pulling away despite the way he chased after your lips. Your hands framed the sides of his face and he stopped moving, giving you the a shy grin as he leaned back on his hands to give you space.

"You think you know me so well already, Charming?" you teased but Steve shook his head, something you couldn’t read flickering through his eyes and he whispered back, "No. Only an idiot would assume you were easy to figure out. Gonna take more than one night for you let me behind those high walls. I'm willing to wait you out, firecracker."

Your stomach did a full on flip. Part of you wish he wouldn’t say things like that. You didn’t want to fall for him but you couldn’t help it when he was smiling at you the way he was. You grinned and pulled him in by his shirt so you were nose to nose, whispering against his lips, “Take me back to your place. We did the friends part, I think we’ve earned some benefits.”

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You settled in the crook of his arm and stared up at the dark wood ceiling How you kept ending up in this dirty ass clubhouse, in this man’s bed you had no idea but you were starting to like the way it felt to wake up next to him. “You good? You’re okay?” Steve checked in again. He was constantly checking in and making sure you were okay. He did that after your one-night stand. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t gone too far and that you were both on the same page now that your hormones were no longer driving the moment. You liked that. You wiggled against him and nodded, assuring him for the hundredth time you were fine, squealing when he nibbled on your shoulder and neck. You playfully shoved at his face and he nipped at your palm, making you pull back with a playful yelp.

"Quit being weird,” you whined through your laughter. “Talk to me. Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

“What do you want to know?”

You rolled over onto your stomach, laying half on him and half off because you couldn’t bare the thought of losing his touch at the moment. He scrunched his nose at you and you leaned in to bump your noses together but Steve had other ideas, tilting his chin at the last moments and catching your lips instead. His arms tightened around you and pulled you fully on top of him, his tongue slipping past your trembling lips. As easy as it was to let yourself get distracted his lips and his hands, if this was going to ever be anything you needed to know more about each other and he wasn’t going to distract you with sex again.

“Don’t distract me with your perfect lips,” you whispered breathlessly and he chuckled, asking again what you wanted to know. “Why did you go on the road? Why did you go nomad?”

Steve shifted so he could see your face better and tucked his right arm behind his head, staring at you for a long moment. It was obvious he was debating what to say, how much he wanted to tell you and if things were more serious between you that might bother you. It does bother you, your heart was quick to remind you. Maybe it did bother you a tiny bit. For where you were at the moment, vague was okay and Steve seemed to agree based on his answer.

"Had some bad habits that I needed to break."

"Did you?" you wondered out loud. “Did you break them?”

"Yeah, but it looks like I came home just in time to pick up another."

You smirked at the suggesting you were just another bad habit he picked up. You couldn’t be mad at him for it. He was probably going to be the same for you.

"Is that what I am? A bad habit you need to break."

Steve grinned and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, asking against the goosebumps on your skin, "Are you bad? Gonna break my heart, Firecracker?"

You attempted a snide smile but it fell short. You could feel it so you didn’t need to see the wistful look in Steve’s eyes to know it was weak, uneasy and fearful. He made you bare, in more ways than one it seemed. Somehow he broke you down and left you vulnerable without even trying and you wanted to hate him for it. Instead, you found yourself tucking your head to hide whatever he was drawing out of you and you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, smiling at the feel of goosebumps forming under your lips. Hopeful the feel of your lips, soft and warm against his cool skin would distract him enough to let this go.

His head dipped and his index finger tilted yours back up letting your noses bump together. No such luck.

"Should I get out before you hurt me?" Steve teased, but there was a genuine concern behind the jest.

"Probably,” you retorted with a smile so pathetic it rivaled the one you let slip moments ago and Steve caught every ounce of regret pouring off of you. He shifted in bed, pulling you back into his arms until you were secured on top of him, your legs tangled around his and his arms wrapped around you with warm hands resting on your sheet covered cheeks.

"You don't have to break my heart first to keep yours safe. You're safe here with me, firecracker. I like you. Sparks and all.”

That sounded nice. The words were pretty but that’s all they were. Pretty words that you doubted he could truly back up with action. You’ve been around the block a time or two and men like him always let their mouths run before they really put any thought into what they were promising.

"What if it's out of your control? What if it's club related?"

"Baby, nothing is out of my control if I don't want it to be.” The confidence in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Or t could have been the possessiveness in his voice when he called you baby. “The club and you, there’s no contest there. I know what I would choose. The real question is, do you?”

Your brows furrowed and a frown tugged at your lips. What in the hell was he talking about?

“I don’t have a club-” Steve cut you off before you could go any further, “I never said you did.” You stared at each other. Neither of you were willing to back down or look away from each other. You were both stubborn and neither of you wanted to give in.

“Well, what do you mean?” you asked, caving and letting him win whatever little contest the two of you had going. “What do I have to choose between?”

Steve’s large hands came up to frame your face and he stared in your eyes, sincerity and adoration reflecting back at you. “Running and being happy, Firecracker. Are you going to run or are you going to let yourself be happy here with me?”

You were right this morning. You were absolutely fucked.

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#Biker!Steve Rogers x reader #biker!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #biker!steve #modern au #mc!au #mc!steve rogers #alternate universe

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itneverendshere · 3 months

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can't remember anything before you - rafe cameron.

request: "can you write something for rafe, where he's had a crush on topper's older sister for ages and he finally does something about it? it can be fluffy and smutty, honestly I'm just here for the plot."

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: wrote 11 word pages i apologize;

WARNINGS: p in v; fingering; handjob; smut with feelings; smut with plot; a lot of cursing; rafe being a lover boy; mentions of slow burn like the slowest burn of his life but it pays off; mentions of voyeurism; p in v out in public??; wrote the word moan a thousand times.

you drive him insane.

what the hell are you doing prancing around the house in the tiniest red bikini known to mankind?

rafe's not a creep, okay? earlier, he tried to redirect his attention, focus on anything else – the tv, the background music, even the patterns on the wallpaper – but his gaze involuntarily gravitated back to you. it's as if the universe conspires against him, pushing him to the edge of his self-control.

it's not just the stupid bikini; it's the way you carry yourself.

it's not fair.

it's why he secluded himself from the party an hour ago, slipping away unsuspectedly to the little private lounge you kept in your favorite area to sunbathe. he sank into a reclining chair, running his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration.

closing his eyes for the millionth time that evening, rafe tries to summon the strength to think about you in anything except the slutty number you're wearing— and it still doesn't help. in the distance, laughter from the party echoes, a stark reminder of the festivities he chose to distance himself from.

then, the hidden door creaks open, and without looking, he knows it's you.

it's your spot after all. maybe this was a terrible idea.

the subtle scent of your sunscreen wafts through the air, and the sound of footsteps approaches. rafe's heart quickens, torn between the desire to get the fuck away from you and your scent that urges him to stay. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, clinging to the darkness as if it can shield him from you.

completely fucked. he's so fucked.

you settle into a nearby chair, and the silence between you is almost comforting. almost. because that sleazy bikini of yours is still very much imprinted into his brain. rafe finally musters the courage to open his eyes, only to meet yours the second he does.

it takes an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the groan in his throat when he realizes your arms are crossed and doing absolutely nothing to hide your tits. the world seems to narrow down to the glistening droplets of water on your skin, the curve of your body. his gaze trails down and he almost folds on the spot.

oh, for fuck's sake.

the reclining chair suddenly feels like a throne of thorns. he should've gone home. ogling you is nothing new in his book, it's what he does best, but now that you've spent the entire summer together...having you all to himself after years of barely catching a glimpse of you during the holidays or summer breaks in the outer banks, rafe knows that it's not just a stupid crush on his best friend's older sister.

it's not just a fleeting desire, it's something that has been brewing inside him for years, and the eye of its right here.

"you, okay?"

rafe almost jumps out of his skin, as your voice breaks the silence. he hesitates, finding it difficult to find the right words when you're looking at him with your pretty eyes.

he clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure, "yeah, yeah. i'm...i'm good." rafe replies, his voice rougher than he intends.

your pouty lip’s part, perhaps ready to probe further, but he can't let you mess with his head.

"just needed a breather from the party, y'know?" he adds, hoping the casual tone will deflect you from analyzing him like one of your books. you're the only one who always saw through the layers he wrapped around himself.

too fucking smart for you own good.

you tilt your head slightly, exposing your pretty neck, "were my cocktails that bad?"

there's an underlying teasing undertone, and he can't help but let out a small, rueful chuckle, "nah, don't think they could be bad even if you tried, peach." he replies, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

your heart races at the sight of him. he’s gorgeous. no one should be allowed to look this good, especially with a shaved head and a three-day stubble. you'd like to blame the drinks for luring your nasty thoughts out, but you know this, is entirely on you.

weird, right?

this was rafe cameron. the little rafe cameron who grew up down the street from you, the insufferable kid your brother brought along to every single-family vacation and had the biggest crush on you when you were seventeen. the metamorphosis from the boy to the captivating man seated before you makes you head hurt.

he's a man now, the prettiest you've ever seen, and it only took him one summer to have you under his palm.

his phone looks so small in his large hands, your gaze follows the veins lining the back of them as his fingers nimbly play with the screen.

"am i boring you?" you ask, leaning your head back into the chair, his perfume, replica jazz club you assume, wafts over you and it takes everything in you not to drop your face into his buff chest and just inhale him, "you haven't spoken a word to me all day."

there's a slight buzz from the alcohol in your veins that allows you to ask the questions you'd never ask if you were sober.

rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing you slowly. "'course i have."

you scoff, feigning nonchalance. "no, you haven't. it's like you're avoiding me."

rafe's heart skips a beat. "avoiding you? m'not avoiding you."

you raise a perfect eyebrow, challenging him, "really?"

rafe shifts uncomfortably in the chair, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the tempting curves that the tiny red bikini accentuates.

"is it because raven is here?"

his eyes are busy tracing the lines of your features with an unwavering dedication. he's never been the best at multitasking when in your presence. he sees your lips moving but can't wrap his head around what you asked.

when he catches your eye again, there's a subtle blush gracing your cheeks, but you don't look away, "who?"

"raven. your ex? the girl you were fucking on spring break?"

rafe's eyes widen comically, surprise and discomfort settling on his face. he shifts in his chair again, as you've catch him off guard. how the fuck did he forget you knew about raven?

"oh, uh, raven. yeah—i mean no! no, no, it's not about her. we're not a thing anymore," he stammers out, fingers scratching his stubble, "that was a spring break thing."

you sit up straighter, the tequila and curiosity-fueling your boldness, "a spring break thing, huh?"

you pray to god he can't pinpoint the jealousy coating your words.

his jaw slightly slackens, forming an unintentional expression of awe as you move your legs, once again momentarily losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. beads of sweat form on his forehead as he struggles to maintain composure.

the heat is not helping his situation at all.

when the silence becomes a little too overbearing for you, you can't shake the growing unease that you might be unintentionally bothering rafe's peace. your words flowed, but you notice a subtle glaze over his blue eyes, a distant look that hints at his mind wandering elsewhere.

is he thinking about raven?

you adjust your posture, nervously fiddling with the bracelet on your arm, a subtle sign of your growing discomfort, "do you want me to leave?"

rafe's eyes snap back to you, the fleeting moment of distraction replaced by a sudden intensity. he blinks a few times, as if trying to shake off the mental fog that had settled, "'course not," there's a hint of urgency in his voice. he doesn't want you to leave, and that realization tightens the knots in his stomach, "always want your company."

this is unbearable. you've gotten him on a tight leash, and you don't even know.

his tone makes your lips twitch, and you press them together to keep from smiling, "aww, look at you being nice to me, it's like you're sixteen all over again."

an involuntary groan escapes his throat, the sound automatically making you clench your thighs.

"you remember that?"

"course i do, you're the only guy who's ever gifted me flowers."

that's because you've only dated douchebags, it's what he wants to tell you, but he doesn't because it's none of his business.

"how much have you had to drink?"

you smirk, "a little. how much have you had to drink?"

he trails his eyes up you higher, gliding up your tummy, over your tits, right up to your throat, "a little."

a subtle awareness tingles at the back of your senses and that's when it hits you.

rafe is staring at you.

he's not shy about it; his eyes trail over you, leaving a tangible heat in their wake, practically eating you alive and you have to take another look to confirm you're not being a delusional bitch. so maybe... you did wear this bikini hoping he would finally do something, that he'd finally understand that you want him.

you've spent the entire summer teasing him. seeing if you could get a rise, hit the right button.

you quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips, "bikini's nice, isn't it?"

he clears his throat, a subtle rasp betraying the restraint he's trying to maintain.

"yeah, it's...it's something," he replies, the words slightly breathless. he crosses his arms across his chest, biceps big enough to make you want to climb him like a tree.

you lean forward propping yourself on one of your elbows, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage, "you know, rafe, you've been pretty quiet."

his lips, naturally inviting, become the focal point as he bites down on the lower one, "just...taking in the view, i guess." he mumbles, his gaze momentarily darting away before locking onto you again.

rafe feels like he's fourteen again, unable to hold a conversation with a pretty girl like you. except he's twenty-two and he should know better. you're going to give him a stroke.

"the view, huh?” your eyes widen in mock-surprise, “and do you like what you see?" you ask.

he swallows hard. uh-oh, is he really about to do this?

"you know i do." he admits, the admission laced with a raw honesty that takes you by surprise.

got him right where you want him.

you decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of the bikini strap.

"wasn't sure about the red, but it's your favorite color."

his head whips back around and he swears he hears a crack. if he wasn't fully hard before, he is now.

you both know you meant what you said, not just a heat-of-the-moment confession. his gaze is fixed on you and his eyebrows are pushed together in a painful expression and he just keeps shaking his head.

he opens his mouth, takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body and leans forward, hands gripping the arms of the chair for dear life, "peach."

there's an underlying warning in his voice, begging you to take a step back and rethink this entire thing, but quite frankly, you're tired of thinking. as matter of fact, you're done making excuses not to fuck rafe.

he exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" his voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

you're both breathless and you haven't even touched each other.

it's time you deliver the final nail to the coffin.

"you're gonna do something about it or do i have to find someone else?"

the realization eventually sinks in: you want him. you want him as desperately as he wants you. you've pushed him to the edge, and there's no turning back now.

his hands are on you before you can blink again, roaming fingers locking around your wrist to pull you towards him, knocking his phone to the ground in the process, but he doesn't care, everything's background noise when you stumble into his lap, pretty legs dangling to the sides. his hands wrap around your torso, pulling you closer, chest to chest, fingers digging into your hips like he's trying to convince himself you're not an illusion.

the world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation.

rafe's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

"y'sure about this?" he whispers, voice a low growl, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes you want to kiss him stupid.

his hands, which had been restless before, find a purpose as his fingertips brush the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes sweep up to meet your own.

"please." the words come out like a plea.

“please, what?" he asks, so smug you almost punch him, "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"

“kiss me.”

and then his lips are on yours. it's more than just kissing; it's a fusion of desires, an electric current that drags you under. rafe's touch is confident, yet tender, as if he is unraveling a secret, delicate treasure. your senses heighten, catching the subtle nuances of his warm breath mingling with yours.

rafe's kiss is a slow burn, a deliberate exploration that leaves trails of heat in its wake. there's an artistry to the way he traces the contours of your lips, teasing and coaxing, building a crescendo of anticipation, rendering you breathless.

the lounge chair becomes a battleground of hands and lips, a frenzied exchange of desires unleashed, an intensity that borders on desperate, as if trying to capture and savor every moment. your fingers trace along his arms, and his hands explore every inch of your body, as if mapping out the territory he's yearned for.

his lips leave a trail of fire along your jawline, down to your collarbone, and you suppress a cry, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. the summer nighttime air feels heavy, thick with the scent of sunscreen and the heady aroma of desire.

rafe breaks the kiss for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.

you’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath.

"been driving me insane all summer, y'know that?" he admits, a husky edge to his voice, throat bobbing, "so fucking insane." he whispers into your neck.

he can't even think straight with your ass firmly pressed against him.

you attempt to keep an even voice, but nonchalance escapes you for the time being. "that was the plan all along."

rafe chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates through you, feeling the warmth of his breath against your ear, "god, gonna be the death of me."

there’s no time to reply because he leans his head and catches your lips faster this time.

he tilts your head down, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. your lips part again, and so do his. he swallows your moan into his mouth, and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth, hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck, fingers kneading the back of it.

you press your body further into his and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. his skin feels so hot against yours, he’s unbearably hard and you’re positively dying to get your hands on every single inch of his skin.

your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as rafe’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. the unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. you can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

his hands dig into the plush of your thighs and he restrains himself, you deserve better than to get fucked out here. he watches closely, hypnotized by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your covered folds.

“baby, we can—can’t, jesu—not here.”

the new pet name makes you feral for him.

you trace a finger up the column of his throat, sending a shiver down his spine, you don’t stop moving your hips, watching his eyes flutter every time you rub just the right way.

“why not?”

rafe groans, head falling back to the chair, “here?”

it’s almost funny how he’s willing to bend over every decision he’s ever made in his life, just for you. he’s letting you dry hump him right here, when your brother, his best friend and god knows who can walk in at any given moment.

you nod pathetically, brain turned into mush, “can’t wait any longer.”

“stop saying shit like that.” he warns you through gritted teeth, “fuck.”

the needy sound that rips through your chest when his hands leave your thighs echoes in his mind.

“peach”, he begins, roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezing the flesh just below the swell of your rear, “y’have a problem with control."

both your lips are swollen pink and ridden with spit.

“like you’re any better.”

you’re such a brat.

rafe grabs your chin and tilts your head, so you have to look into his pretty eyes, “let’s not make any noise, yeah?” his lips create a path up your throat, hands on your ass, kneading and pushing so he can grind you all over his growing bulge.

you whimper, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you just want him to touch you. his hips roll slowly, rubbing his hard-on lazily and mindlessly. he can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“just touch me,” you grip his shoulder harder, holding on for dear life as his hands trail back, the bits of his nails scraping along your naked thighs.

they catch the waistband of your bikini bottoms. he traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips his fingers underneath, swiping them along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze.

this time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy pink and glistening for him.

“’m touching you, peach,” his touch, and scent, cloud your vision, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet-mouthed kisses to your neck, “m touching you.”

”more,” you whine, lips barely parted, drawing out another salacious moan from him. “fuck.”

“like this?” he whispers against your lips, words hoarse and murmured, watching your eyes soften and brows twist, features becoming pliant under his enamored gaze, “you’re so fucking wet.” he tsk under his breath, shaking his head in the typical rafe cameron condescending way.

he presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. you groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. so fucking tight. you rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

his half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger.

he coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. he nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. the squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

“rafe—“ you hand grips his wrist as your eyes roll back when his fingers find that spot.

“t’s good?”

“so good,” you whine loudly, he’s cocky tone only adding to his allure.

you can feel the stretch it takes just to take his finger, rutting into you, curling perfectly.

he thinks it might be the sweetest thing he’s ever witnessed – your voice when you’re being fucked. you’re gushing around his digits, hands now clutching his shoulders. it’s like you can’t stop moving them, needing to feel every ridge of his body.

rafe adds another finger, pressing the tips of his middle and ring finger against that soft, spongy part deep inside and grins when you cry out his name.

“fuck,” you cry out against his skin dragging your lips up his throat, over his jaw, before finding purchase at his lips in a kiss that devours all air in your lungs. your fingers curl around the band of his bathing shorts, enjoying the slight whine that slips past his lips.

“let me touch you,” you plead, words muffled by the way your tongue can’t seem to leave his skin alone, teeth grazing along where his neck and shoulder meet. you nip at the area, before daring to swipe your tongue along his neck, sucking the tender flesh with your teeth.

holy fuck, are you marking him?

“oh god."

a third finger, your hips now rutting against him.

“hickeys, baby? that territorial, huh?” his hand slows for a moment, twisting so he can thumb at your clit before he continues, both motions in tandem. you cry out, eyes screwed close, hips shoving forward, “you look so pretty like this," rafe whispers against your skin, his full-blown pupils looking up at you through his long lashes.

“i want more”

“every little sound you make goes straight down to my cock,” he’s rubbing his cock so perfectly against your clit again, only making you whine more desperately for him. he places a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, just so he can see you blindly chase after his lips.

and then, you feel empty.

he lets his fingers slide all the way out and his throat tightens at the feel of you bearing down, trying to hold on to him as he withdraws completely. he ignores your protests and drags his thick fingers across your wet folds. when he feels satisfied with the coat around his fingers, he moves them toward your face, letting them trail over your lips.

“gon’ open up f’me?”

you gasp, but obey immediately, tongue darting out to lick your slick off his fingers. rafe doesn’t hold back his groan, watching your tongue swirling around his digits. he throws whatever concerns he had over your noises out the window.

he’s too lost in your body to care if someone finds you two or not.

as a matter of fact, let them see. god knows he’s dying to show those bastards you belong to him anyway. he wants you all to himself, wants the whole world to know you’re his.

“so, so, so good,” he praises, closing the gap, lips molding right into yours again. his hands find home in your throat, adding just right the amount of pressure to make you sigh against his lips.

rafe smirks, brushing a finger along your skin, should’ve guessed his pretty peach had kink for praises. your tummy is in a knot because he’s running his hands along your body, and you just need to have him.

you clumsily slip his shorts and boxers down, just enough to touch him, and he raises his hips automatically helping you slide them down, his cock springing out of his confines to lightly hit against his abdomen.

you break the kiss, needing to look at him.

and you’re so glad you do, because rafe has the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. you catch yourself staring at him, devouring every part of his body with your eyes.

he feels his heartbeat faster, face flush when your eyes are back on his face as you softly wrap one of you manicured hands around him, just slightly, slow pumps. but it’s more than enough to make him drop his head back, adam’s apple bobbing, brows pitched together.

“good?” you ask him, keeping the pace so you can feel him throb in your hand.

“everything’s good when it’s you peach,” he grunts out, and the way his abs seem to recoil makes your tongue slide across your bottom lip, “fucking perfect.”

your thumb smears precum across his tip, bending forward to ghost your lips over his, “need you inside me.”

the way rafe’s jaw drops open in a silent moan when you tighten your hold around him is beautiful, searing itself in the back of your mind.

settling on his lower lip, you draw it into your mouth, sucking softly, moving your hips even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your breasts—the other one flicking your nipple with his thumb.

you keep your eyes open, needing to memorize every single moment. his breath comes down on your lips in heavy pants, fingers teasing your skin, hums of pleasure circling both of you.

“want me inside you?” his voice sounds so husky it makes you want to cry, “want me to fil you up?”

your hand leaves his cock, pulling him to you by his shoulders, and he braces himself with one hand on your waist, another on the chair.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, “that bad?”

“don’t tease me,” you struggle to produce words, hands winding through his chest, “waited long enough.”

rafe holds his cock by the base, running it up and down your pussy, “not longer than i have.”

you sink down onto him, biting your lip at the slow pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulls at your middle. you can feel tears brimming your eyes from pure relief and he feels like every single fiber of his being is scorching.

he can feel just how deep he his, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like his life depends on it, “fuck. that’s it, baby.”

your hands are placed firmly on his stomach, and one of his glides up right up to your throat, pulling you down to his chest. all you can properly let out of your mouth are pleas and whimpers. the stretch is on the edge of painful, but he fits so perfectly inside of you. you huff a short breath when he’s all the way in.

“you okay?” he asks against your ear, softly biting the lobe.

your answer is a desperate roll of your hips, “perfect.”

you begin to move your hips up and down, as the stretch gives way to something delirious, and rafe takes mercy on you, beginning to thrust back up into you, his rhythm building up until your mouth falls open again into a pretty moan, until sweat shines on the high points of his perfectly sculpted face. every time your skin touches his it’s fucking scorching, and the stretch is agonizing, and the heavy air is suffocating but then he’s bottoming out and you feel your brain go fuzzy.

you’re wrapped around him so tight it makes his moves sloppy, almost mindless but so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs.

“waited so long for you,” one hand on the curve of your hip, the other along your jaw, lips hungrily working over yours, swallowing your gentle whimpers, your soft, sweet pleas vibrating against his tongue, “have no idea what you do to me.”

his confession only makes you drag yourself harder against him, clit brushing against his pubic bone, “rafe!”

“that’s it,” he coos, tone gentle, the friction too overwhelming, “so beautiful.”

the strain in his voice makes you want to stay like this forever.

you tighten around him further, letting your nails rake down his chest. rafe grunts, thrusting harder, shifting you closer to him as humanly possible. you feel his stomach and thighs clench, and his hips sputter, “you’re so deep.”

he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling the bulge, “might fuck a baby into you,” he rasps, thumb catching against your clit, “let them know you’re mine.”

“yours,” he’s trailing kisses along your collarbone until he reaches your tits, leaving a line of soft, wet suckles behind, “only yours.”

the way he’s stroking you unrushed is absolutely toe-curling, guiding you over his cock with very little maneuvering, gently pushing your hips down onto him.

“gonna keep you here, stuffed, for hours baby.”

you can hear it reverberating through the night air.

the slap of skin, the grunts. the sound of the chair creaking as he fucks you into it. each delicious slip, every time you feel his veiny shaft twitching for attention against your walls. you’re so lightheaded you might pass out.

rafe feels his balls tighten. you are creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock. he’s making sure to put your pleasure before his, hitting all the right spots.

“rafe, baby—" his name being moaned out by you is urging him to bust inside you, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips tightens, “oh—im gon—fuckk.”

he only pushes you faster up and down his dick as your walls grip around him, a mix of your cream and his pre-cum coating his length. his eyes focus on your face, basking in the pretty expressions you make.

“it’s too much.” you whine, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. rafe’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.

“you can take it,” his muscles flex from the constant friction. you’re so full, all you can think about is rafe spilling inside of you, “c’mon.”

his cock thrusts even deeper, a sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens. his calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear. he loves the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. he tangles his hand in your hair, forcing your neck to arch up as he leans in, biting hard enough to leave a mark.

“im—m—gonn—” you feel him right at your womb again and again, any semblance of sanity melted away the moment he set his hands on you, “holy fuck.”

“i know baby, keep your eyes on me,” you with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips is enough to make a grown man cry, “eyes on me.”

you lean back, supporting yourself with your hands on his thighs, circling your hips and doing your best not to close your eyes. the burning inside you is so strong, it’s taking you everything not to close them.

his hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, “oh my god.”

the pace has both of you panting, his balls slapping your ass every single time. a shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and almost scream out his name.

he chuckles breathlessly, “never getting tired of that sound.”

you can feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into him and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gives your throbbing clit. each time he hits your g-spot just right, you feel more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs.

“so fucking pretty,” he groans, punctuating each word with a deep thrust and you feel that tight coil in your belly snapping.

“fuck—rafe,” you pant heavily, breathy whines falling from your lips, legs starting to give out. “oh mhmf—don’t stop!”

your thighs are shaking and seizing as it finally its you, at full force. you squirm in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. the feeling’s so intense it’s almost painful. rafe’s arms hold you tight, keeping you grounded while you shudder in his grasp, his fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

his piercing blue eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, “knew you could do it.”

he doesn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you.

“wonder how many of those i can get out of you.”

long night ahead of you.

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might have some grammar mistakes, frankly im not sure at this point lmao, it's late. english's not my first language, it's my third i think. will edit later bc i spent hours writing this and my old ass needs to sleep, thank you for reading <3 by the time im posting this, over 200 of you voted they wanted smut so y'all won, tried best to deliver the goods. also rafe's not mentally unstable in this one, in case that wasn't obvious, he's just a little too in love and cute.

let me know if you enjoy it and if i should start taking requests more frequently!

ps: that picture is how i imagined rafe throughout this whole thing

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