Bets & Bargains Masterlist

my girl - rafe cameron

a/n: I literally wrote this in 4 hours and did not proofread sorry but I really like it so hopefully y'all do too !! P.S.: this is literally so not what Rafe would actually be like in some of the scenes, but I think the story itself is cute okay (not my gif)

Summary: you're dating Rafe Cameron, who can't seem to keep his hands off of you and can't seem to not get jealous over every guy that even looks at you

Warnings: slight smut (nothing actual sexual), mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of fighting (no actual fighting), mad! rafe

Word Count: 6.6k

series masterlist

my writing

Rafe had always been a jealous boyfriend. Ever since the two of you had started dating, he seemed to be unable to allow any other guy to even look at you without it sending him into a fit of rage. It has caused many fights between the two of you, but over the now almost two year long relationship, you two had been working on it. He's gotten better, not causing as many fights and learning how to breathe through his anger instead of coming out fists first.

However, he had become even more handsy than he already was. If you wouldn't let him fight, he decided to just keep his hands all over you as a way of claiming you. Wherever you two were, his hand was holding yours, or around your waist, on your ass, he didn't care. Just as long as every soul on the island knew you were not to be talked to.

You spent the night at Rafe's last night and woke up tangled in his sheets and his scent. You always slept later than him, he seems to always be an early riser, and is not in the bed when you open your eyes. You grab his shirt off the floor and wrap it around your bare chest, then slide on shorts. Quickly checking in the mirror to make sure your hair doesn't look like you spent the entire night getting railed by the eldest Cameron boy, you open the door and head downstairs.

Approaching the kitchen, you can hear Ward and Rafe having a conversation. You debate going back upstairs and waiting for Rafe, but their words draw you in.

"I want those generators handled tonight, Rafe. I mean it," Ward tells him, his tone harsh.

"I can't do that tonight, Dad, I have-"

"Rafe, I swear to God. I asked you to get this done for me last fucking week and here I am with no goddamn generators! I mean, I just don't understand. I gave you money, right? Didn't I give you money?"

"Yes, sir," Rafe's voice sounds fragile. You take a deep breath, wanting to step in but knowing it will only make things worse for him.

"Yes, I did," Ward answers himself, ignoring Rafe, "So what the hell is the problem?"

"I'm going to handle it, Dad," Rafe says.

Apparently, that answer isn't good enough, because you hear Ward slam his hand down on the kitchen counter.

"You damn well better, son," Ward spits, "You have until tomorrow, and if I don't see any results, you can go sleep on the damn Cut."

Your eyes shut at his threat, knowing Rafe takes that to heart. He loves and adores his dad, would do absolutely anything for his dad, and this is what he gets. You listen to Ward go back into his office and slam the door, then almost immediately, you hear Rafe groan. All you want to do is rush in there, but you don't want him to know that you were listening. His dad is a soft subject and every time you start to tell him that his dad should treat him better, he shuts down. He doesn't like to talk about it.

After another minute, you walk in carefully and find your boyfriend leaning over the sink with his head down. His hair has clearly been messed with, telling you the stress is getting to him. He's shirtless, wearing only athletic shorts. You frown and walk a little closer, then speak.

"Morning," you chirp, putting a smile on your face. Rafe spins around and smiles when he sees you standing there in his shirt.

"Good morning, baby," he walks over and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You breathe in his familiar scent and hug him tightly, hoping to comfort him a bit.

"You doing okay?" you ask, smushed against his chest.

"Yes," he states, his voice even, "Sleep well?"

You could groan as he changes the subject, but instead, you plant a kiss on his chest and then rest your chin on his sternum as you look up at him. His eyes look tired, his hair messy, but he could not be more handsome to you.

"The best," you give him a cheesy grin. He smiles back and gives you a kiss on the forehead, then starts to pull away.

"I was thinking," he tells you as he steps toward the fridge, "About tonight-"

"You don't have to come," you cut him off, remembering his conversation with his dad, "It's okay. It's just some stupid dinner."

Rafe looks over at you like you're crazy. You thought by giving him a way out, he'd take it and handle things for his dad. But by the looks of things, he seems to think he has it under control.

"Of course I'm coming," he frowns, "Unless you don't want me there."

You shake your head quickly, "No, I do. I just thought, you know, if you have other stuff you need to take care of, well, it's okay."

Rafe's eyes soften as he stares at you, and you see his chest relax as he exhales. He runs his hand through his hair once again, messing it up even more. You cross your arms over your chest as you stand there.

"You heard," Rafe states.

It's not a question, it's a fact. He knows you know. You don't know what to say, so you just nod, ignoring the 'fuck' he whispers under his breath as he closes the fridge.

"Baby, I'm going to this dinner tonight. I want to be with you. I'll take care of the stupid generators before dinner even starts. Don't worry about it."

He's almost convincing, but you know him better than that. He's worries, but trying to hide it for your sake. Your dad had informed you last week that his old friend from college would be on the island with his family and they were coming for dinner. Originally, when you told Rafe about it, his response had been 'yawn' and he had not cared about attending, but when you mentioned that they had a nineteen year old son attending college in South Carolina that would be with them, Rafe asked you what time he should arrive.

You want to laugh at his statement about wanting to be with you, when in reality, you know he just wants to mark his territory with this college kid. Frankly, you could care less about the whole dinner and would rather just get take-out and watch movies with Rafe all night.

"Okay," you say, the only response you can think of that won't start a fight.

He steps over to you and pulls your chin up, giving you a gentle kiss.

"I promise I will get this taken care of," he stares at you, meaning it.

You nod, swallowing as you do so. You really don't want him getting kicked out of the house because he is too busy being jealous.

"Now," he smiles, "What do you want to eat?"

Rafe cooks you breakfast and you two sit in the kitchen as you laugh and eat off each other's plates, completely forgetting that Ward's office is right off the kitchen and he can probably hear the two of you acting like idiots. You don't particularly give a fuck about what Ward thinks, but you know Rafe does. Once you're done, he helps you do the dishes, mainly just standing behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and reaching around you to grab the dishes once you've washed them.

He keeps 'accidentally' touching your butt in between his drying duties, but you don't complain. You just remind him that any one of his family members could walk in at any point, to which he simply tells you he doesn't care.

After the dishes, you two head upstairs and shower in Rafe's bathroom. Of course, with Rafe, showering together is not simply showering. You two are in there for so long that the water runs cold, but neither of you care. When he finally sets you back down, he smirks at the look on your face.

"Can you walk?"

He's proud of his work, you can tell, but you roll your eyes at him. Your stomach is still twisting and turning - it's always fucking amazing with him. You just nod, and when he takes his hands out from around your waist and stops holding you up, you have to grab onto him. Your legs feel like absolute jello.

"Just a minute," you tell him, and he laughs.

He laughs so loud that it echoes, making you smile. You love him like this, when he isn't moody or high or worried about anything. Even though he has every right to be.

"Asshole," you mutter as he laughs at you.

"Aw, come on, now," he shakes his head, smiling but no longer laughing, "I've got you, baby."

He shuts the water off with his free hand and keeps the other wrapped tightly around you. He's holding your entire body weight up with one arm and it's enough to turn you on again, which makes you groan.

"What?" he grins down at you.

You shake your head at him as he grabs a towel and wraps it loosely around you, then picks you up bridal style and uses your legs to push open the shower door. You know you probably could do this yourself now, but you fucking love when he takes care of you like this.

He opens the door to his bathroom and brings you over to his bed, laying you down with the towel under you. It absolutely does not cover your whole body and you're afraid of getting his mattress wet when he jumps in right beside you. No towel, no drying off, just soaking wet and naked.

"Rafe, what the hell, you're going to ruin your mattress," you sit up, trying to get up from the bed.

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back in with him, and you know he's too strong to fight.

"I don't care," he says, burying his face into your neck and breathing you in.

You take a deep breath, grinning as he hits the sweet spot on your neck. You can feel his lips working, and you know a bruise will form in that spot momentarily, but you cannot care about that now. It feels too damn good.

"We have dinner with my parents tonight," you tell him as he pulls his lips from that spot and moves to another, "I can't show up with hickeys all over me."

Rafe looks up at you innocently, then shrugs and gets back to work on our neck. He kisses it for a second, then stops.

"You'll just have to wear something that covers everything, then, because I'm planning on leaving quite a few."

You laugh as he starts again. You bring your hands up to his hair and start running your fingers through it, making him moan against your skin.

"Oh, so that's what this is about," you tease him.

"I don't know what you're referring to," he denies. You grin.

"You just want me to be covered head to toe at dinner, huh?"

You can feel him grin against your neck but he doesn't respond, just continues kissing you. You let him, because it just feels so good, even though you know you should be getting home soon to get ready.

"Rafe, I should probably-" you say after a few minutes, but he stops you.

"Probably stay," he mumbles, finally pulling his face out of our neck and kissing you on the lips instead.

You could kiss him forever, you swear you could, but it's getting later and you still have no idea what you're going to wear.

"Babe," you pull away and speak against his lips, "I should get home."

He groans and collapses off of you, laying now only on his side of the mattress. You sit up and put your feet out on the floor, making sure your legs are working now. You let the towel fall on the floor, not even bothering to turn around as you know Rafe has a huge smirk on his face watching you search for your own clothes.

You slide your shirt over your head once you find it, then pull your shorts on once again. You find your bra but don't feel like bothering with it.

"Don't worry about your underwear," Rafe smirks from the bed, watching you search for it. You glare at him.

"Rafe," you groan.

He gives you his best cheeky grin, making you smile as well. You shake your head at him and then grab your bag from the floor, stuffing your phone and bra inside. Then, you walk over to your naked boyfriend and lean down to give him a kiss.

He grabs the back of your neck and tries to get you to continue the kiss, but you pull back against him and he lets you go.

"Please get up and dry off, I'm not sleeping on a moldy mattress," you tell him.

He grins, "Does that mean you'll sleep over again tonight?"

You raise you eyebrow at him, teasing him, "Not if the mattress is wet."

You walk over to his bedroom door and then turn, watching as he quickly stands up and pulls boxers over his body. His hair is still soaking wet, but the rest of his body looks pretty dry now.

"I'll put my mattress out in the sun," he tells you.

You roll your eyes and blow him a kiss, then pull open the door.

"I love you!" Rafe yells the second you exit his room, so you pull back and peak your head in once again. He smiles as you do.

"I love you, too. Don't be late."

Rafe listens to you and shows up to your house forty-five minutes before you had told him to be there. You are in the middle of straightening your hair, still in your robe, when you hear his voice downstairs talking to your brother. Quickly, you set the straightener down and walk out of your room, hurrying down the stairs. It's only been two hours, but you can't wait to see him.

"Yes, dude, let's play. I'm sure your sister's still upstairs, yeah?" you hear him say, just as you enter the living room.

"Not quite," you smile as he turns around.

He looks so handsome, wearing his long sleeve blue button up. He fixed his hair up from the way it looked this morning, and although it looks really good, you can't wait to mess it up later. You, on the other hand, only have half of your hair straightened and still have a robe on. You're thankful at least your makeup is done.

"Hey, baby," he grins, tucking his arm around your waist and pulling you to him to kiss him.

"Gross," your little brother remarks, firing up his Xbox to play a game with your boyfriend.

Rafe hits him lightly on the back of his head.

"Dude, one day, you'll understand," Rafe tell him, not removing his arm from around you, "Want me to come keep you company while you get ready?"

You shake your head, then point to your brother to silently tell Rafe to hang out with him. He doesn't have a lot of friends in school, so you know that will mean a lot to him. Rafe nods, then leans over to whisper in your ear.

"Just... call me, when it's time for you to get dressed, yeah?"

You roll our eyes and watch him smirk, then push him away. You start up the stairs again, watching as Rafe sits down on the couch beside your brother.

"Have fun," you tell them.

Once you get back upstairs, you finish up your hair and then step to your closet to figure out what to wear. You make up your mind just as you hear your door open slightly.

"Baby?" Rafe calls out.

You exit your closet and find him peaking his head into your room. When he sees you, still in your robe, he opens the door wider and slips inside, then shuts it.

"Doorbell rang. They're here."

You nod and pull your outfit from the closet, untying your robe and then stepping to your dresser to pick out underwear and a bra.

"Isn't this my job?" he comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around you and his hands taking yours, guiding you to the underwear and bra he wants you wearing.

"Honey, these don't even match," you turn around, holding the combination up as proof.

"That's what I want you to wear," he asserts, "And we don't have time to argue. Now are you going to get dressed, or am I going to have to do it for you?"

This is the Rafe you love. You can tell he's getting ready to assert his dominance over you at this dinner with the way he's already starting to behave. Even though sometimes it can be annoying, it's his way of showing you he cares about you and wants him all to himself.

"You might have to do it for me," you tease, biting your lip just to get him riled up.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers, leaning down.

Just as he's an inch away from your lips, you pull back.

"I really have to get dressed now."

He swears again, then collapses on your bed to watch the show. He smirks once you put on the underwear and bra he picked out for you, never taking his eyes off of you once as you continue to dress.

You hear your dad yell for you from downstairs, so you walk over and hold out your hand for Rafe to take.

"Best behavior, yes?" you ask him as you pull him up.

He leans down and kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"We'll see," he teases you.

You roll your eyes and drag him out of your room with your hand in his. He allows it, mostly because he gets to look at your ass as you walk in front of him. You two head down the stairs quickly, hearing new voices in the living room.

"Ah, here she is," your dad exclaims as you and Rafe appear, "Honey, this is my buddy, Michael, his wife, Caroline, and their son, Will. Guys, this is my daughter, Y/N, and her boyfriend, Rafe."

"Lovely to meet you," Michael says to you, his smile warm and friendly. He then holds out his hand for Rafe to shake, which luckily is not the hand that he has tightly wrapped around your waist.

"You, too, thanks for coming," you say politely.

Will steps forward, and you hear Rafe scoff.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he says, holding his hand out for you to shake.

You can feel Rafe staring at his outstretched hand, but you reach out anyway. You ignore him when he tightens his grip around your waist. When Will doesn't immediately drop your hand, Rafe speaks up.

"I'm Rafe," your boyfriend informs him.

Will drops your hand and glances at him only for a second before he looks away.

"Good to meet you, man," Will nods, then extends his hand to Rafe as well. You can tell it's forced.

"Yeah," Rafe snaps back, squeezing Will's hand just a bit too hard as they shake. After a second, both boys drop hands.

"Relax," you whisper only to him, not loud enough that anyone else could hear. Will and his family turn back to your folks and your brother, leaving the two of you to bicker in peace.

"He looked at you like-" he starts, but you cut him off by stepping front of him and setting your hand on his chest.

"Baby," you warn him, "Relax."

You repeat yourself, feeling the tension in his body drop. He just nods his head, wanting so badly to pull you into him but knows he can't because it would draw attention. And more than anything, he doesn't want Will to know he feels threatened.

"Is everyone ready to eat?" your mom asks, pointing to the dining room just off the kitchen.

Rafe reaches down and takes your hand as everyone moves into the dining room. The two of you wind up entering last, so everyone watches as Rafe pulls your chair out for you, then pushes it in once you're seated. Rafe glares at Will as he continues to stare, which causes him to look away. Once Rafe is seated, he immediately rests his hand on your thigh.

Your dad starts rambling on with Michael at one end of the table about whether or not he's caught any of the games recently, so your mom and Caroline launch into conversation with the kids.

"So, Will, how do you like USC?" your mom asks him.

Your brother passes the chicken to Rafe, which he first places on your plate, then on his own. You thank him quietly, not being able to tell his mood anymore. He hands you the dish of chicken and points to your dad, telling you to pass it as he returns his hand to your leg under the table.

"It's great," Will speaks up, "Classes are hard, but nothing I can't handle."

Rafe snorts, but keeps his head down so as not to be too direct. You set your hand on his under the table and give it a squeeze, telling him to knock it off.

"That's great," your mom smiles, glancing only for a second at you and Rafe, "Y/N's been looking at schools."

Will glances at you as you look up and smile to your mom. Rafe hates talking about you going to college, because it means you might leave him. He had decided when he graduated that college wasn't his route, and you saw nothing wrong with that.

"What schools are you thinking about?" Will asks you.

"Um," you hesitate, glancing at Rafe only for a second before you start again, "Chapel Hill. It's close, you know."

You're trying your best to keep the college talk to a minimum for Rafe's sake, so you keep your answer brief. Will catches onto how uncomfortable Rafe is.

"Any particular reason you want to stay close?" Will asks, already knowing the answer full well.

Truth is, Will couldn't care less about you. But Rafe being so territorial earlier pissed him off, and he's doing whatever he can to get under his skin.

Rafe looks up at Will and glares at him for asking such a ridiculous question, while he squeezes your leg under the table again. You're fully aware of what Will is trying to do to your boyfriend, so you set your hand over his again to relax him.

"My family," you reply, keeping your tone light even though you could tell him off right here and now.

Will nods, not satisfied with your answer. You hope and pray that the conversation is over, until your mother speaks up again.

"Well, sweetheart, I hope you don't let us impact your decision on where you attend," she says, to which you shake your head.

"It's fine, Mom," you tell her, trying to get her to drop it.

"You need to go wherever you want. Nobody gets to make that decision for you," she glances at Rafe now, who is using his fork to pick at his food. He's only taken a few bites.

"I think," Rafe speaks up, still staring at his plate, "Y/N will be successful anywhere she goes and sitting at a table speculating will not help her make up her mind."

You held your breath when your boyfriend started to speak because you were unsure of what he would say, but when he finishes, you smile softly at him and reach over to stroke the back of his neck as a thank you. He looks to you as you touch him and smiles back.

"You know a lot about colleges, Rafe?" Will asks.

Rafe tears his eyes from you and looks to Will, a look in his eye that you've only seen a few times. It's the look he often gives when he's about to deck some dude in the face.

"I know a lot about my girlfriend," Rafe corrects him, not breaking his stare. You keep your hand stroking the back of his head as a way to try and keep  him calm.

"Ah, so you don't go to school, then?" Will knows he's stirring the pot now, so much so that both dads have stopped talking to one another and are listening to the boys.

"Rafe works for his father," you speak up, defending Rafe.

"Ward Cameron," your dad tells Will, "He's a very talented businessman."

"Oh," Will replies, and you hope he'll drop it, "So you just live off daddy's money, then."

Rafe slams his hand down on the table as you close your eyes, listening to the plates and silverware clatter. You move your hand down to his back now, rubbing up and down.

"That's enough, Will," Caroline says quietly to her son.

Will doesn't listen, just moves his glance over to you, watching as you stroke Rafe's back. He notices Rafe's hand is at an angle and can tell that it's on your leg, so he decides to push it even more.

"Why are you even dating this guy anyway?" he asks.

"That's it," Rafe stands up from the table quickly, "You got something to fucking say, why don't you say it to me outside?"

"Rafe," you say, your voice stern.

You look to your little brother, who is staring up at Rafe with a terrified expression. Your brother looks up to Rafe, and this is not the example you want him to follow. You look to your mother, who has her head down, Will's mother, who looks horrified, and Will's father, who looks concerned. Your father almost looks proud of Rafe. And Will, well, he looks scared, too.

"Nothing to say now?" Rafe scoffs, "You were such a big talker a second ago, now you're just gonna sit there like a little bitch?"

"Okay," you say as you stand up, setting both of your hands on Rafe's arms, "Excuse us, please."

You start to shove Rafe in the direction of the stairs, knowing the only place you won't be heard is up in your room. Rafe doesn't break his stare with Will until you reach the stairs.

"Go. Now," you demand, pushing him again. His chest is going up and down rapidly, the adrenaline rushing through his body not helping him to calm down.

He rushes up the stairs with you behind, then opens your bedroom door. He silently allows you to walk through first, then enters behind you and slams it shut.

"What a fucking prick," Rafe says the second the door is closed, "I'm gonna beat the shit out of that guy-"

"Rafe," you interrupt him, making him look up at you, "I asked you to be on your best behavior tonight. This night was about my dad, not you."

You're trying to keep your voice calm so he doesn't start screaming, or feel like you're completely against him.

"What did you expect me to do, babe? Sit there like a bitch while he talks all kinds of shit about me? You know that's not me," he scoffs. He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up.

"I expected you to act like an adult," you correct him, trying not to give in when you see the pained look in his eyes.

"I had it under control," he tells you, his voice quieter. You laugh and throw your hands up in the air.

"Just like you have the fucking generators under control, right?"

You speak before you think and when you finally look back at Rafe, you wish instantly you could take it back. You cover your mouth as you stare at him, watching as he closes his eyes and tries to swallow his emotions before the tears start to come up. The one person who is supposed to believe him when he says he will handle something, doesn't. And that hurts him.

You rush forward and put your hands on his chest, then speak, "Baby, I-"

"Don't," he tells you, reaching up and taking your hands off of his body, letting them fall to your sides. His voice is strained, like he really is holding back tears.

"Rafe, I didn't mean that," you tell him.

You want so badly to reach up and touch him, to brush away the water forming in his eyes. He looks so hurt, focusing his eyes on anywhere in the room except for you. He knows if he looks at you, he'll cry for sure.

After a second, he takes a deep breath and lets out a small cough, then steps toward your bedroom door.

"You're just gonna leave?" you say weakly, not turning around to face him.

You hear as he grabs the door handle, but he doesn't pull the door open yet. He inhales, then exhales, then speaks.

"I'm not leaving," he says quietly, so you turn around to look at him, "I'm going to go downstairs, apologize, and finish the dinner I committed to attending. Then, I'm leaving. I'll go take care of the goddamn generators to show you and Ward and everyone else that I can, in fact, handle my own shit."

You feel so guilty as you stare at him, wondering how it was only a few hours ago that the two fo you were giggling and naked in his bed.

"I know you can, baby," you tell him, tears starting to well up at the thought of him leaving like this, "I'm so sorry. I was just frustrated, that's not how I really feel. Please don't be angry with me."

You step forward and set your hands on his face, removing one to pull his hand off of the handle. Both of you have tears in your eyes as you stare at each other. Rafe can't take it, he brings one hand up to push hair out of your face.

"I could never be angry with you," he whispers, "You're my girl."

You smile as a tear falls from your eye, but he brushes it away with his thumb quickly.

"Forever," you confirm.

He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly, never wanting to let go. After a minute of breathing you in, he reaches down and takes your hand.

"Come on," he tells you.

The two of you exit your room and start down the stairs, both looking at each other as you notice the silence coming from downstairs. Once you reach the dining room, you see everyone sitting in complete and awkward silence, looking up at the two of you when you enter. Rafe releases your hand and sets it on the small of your back instead as he looks around the room.

"Please excuse my behavior, everyone. I'm sorry. I should not have acted that way," Rafe states, his voice even and emotionless. You know he doesn't mean it, but you don't mind. Will scoffs at his apology, earning a glare from you.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Rafe," your father speaks up, hands folded in front of him.

Both you and Rafe snap your heads over to look at your dad. He looks serious, and you take note of the expression on Michael's face. Embarrassed. You wonder now, what could've possibly been said while you two were gone.

"Yes, sir, I do-" Rafe starts, but your father holds his hand up to stop him.

"He does, he's a dick," Will mutters.

"Will!" Caroline raises her voice now.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak again, but you set your hand on his chest to stop him when you see your father start to speak.

"Michael, I think it's time you all left my home, now."

"I think you're right."

Both men's voices are stern and serious, not what they were an hour ago. Michael stands up and so does Caroline, much to your mother's protest. Michael then grabs onto the back of Will's shirt collar and drags him up from the table. Your mother shows them out, quietly apologizing to Caroline. You and Rafe just watch as they exit the house, not saying a word.

"Sir," Rafe looks over at your dad, who is now standing, "I'm so-"

"It's not your fault, Rafe," he shakes his head, "His son's a dick."

You and Rafe both laugh when your dad says that, and you feel Rafe relax as he pulls you into him and kisses your temple. You relax too, knowing it's all good. Will's gone and you and Rafe made up, so everything else is just fine.

Rafe turns around to talk to your little brother about his behavior, and you look over at your dad. He's smiling at you and when he catches your eye, he winks. And you know, just like that, that he will always have your back over anyone else's.

You free yourself from Rafe's grip and go to give your father a hug, grateful for him.

"He's a good man," your dad whispers to you.

You turn around to look at Rafe, watching as he talks to your little brother.

"Yeah, he is," you agree.

Rafe catches your eye and gives you a cheesy grin, then turns his attention back to your brother. You honestly believe that you could not be more in love with him than you are.

"Hey, Dad?" you ask, looking up at him.

He looks down with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask what you need.

"Do you know anyone who has any generators?"

Your father thinks for a moment, then says, "Yeah, I think Teddy might still have some up at the store. Why do you ask?"

"Rafe needs some for his dad. It's kinda urgent."

Your dad smiles down at you, then pats your shoulder.

"I'll go give Teddy a call."

He excuses himself just as Rafe walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You smile as he leans around and kisses your cheek.

"I love you," he whispers in your ear, leaving a little kiss underneath it.

"So much that you'll help me with the dishes?" you gasp, turning around in his arms and smiling.

He groans playfully and tightens his grip around you so neither one of you have to start doing dishes.

"Can't we just skip to the fun part where we go upstairs?" he whines.

You laugh, "We had sex, like, five hours ago."

"Exactly!" he exclaims, "Five hours ago! I'm drying out here, babe."

You laugh again, rolling your eyes at him.

"Rafe, Y/N, that table isn't going to clear itself!" your mother yells from the kitchen, where she and your brother are putting leftover food away.

"Yes ma'am," Rafe groans back at her, hearing a slight laugh from the kitchen.

You two start clearing dishes, which really means you and Rafe stack as many plates in his hands and see how many he can carry to the kitchen all at once. You've almost got all of them, you giggling at Rafe trying to act all manly.

"Don't drop them," you tease him. He rolls his eyes at you.

"If I can hold your naked body up in the shower this morning because someone fucked them too hard and you couldn't stand, let alone walk,  I think I can manage a few empty plates," he smirks, keeping his voice low in case of wandering ears.

"Rafe!" you exclaim, your cheeks starting to get red. He laughs loudly, which in turn makes you laugh.

"Alright, kids," your dad enters the dining room, "Good news. Teddy's got three generators. Says you could even go pick them up tonight."

You glance up at Rafe, holding your breath. You hadn't yet told him you asked your dad about generators, hoping your dad would tell you independently about them so you could tell Rafe.

Rafe sets the stack of plates down on the table and then looks over at you, being the only person who knew he needed generators.

"I just asked if he knew of anyone. I wanted to help you out," you defend yourself, "I know you can take care of your own shit, but that doesn't always mean you should have to."

Rafe stares at you, expressionless. You just know he's mad. You shouldn't have asked your dad, you think to yourself.

Which is why it surprises the shit out of you when Rafe steps over and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you close, exhaling a sigh a relief.

"Thank you, baby," he whispers to you.

After a second, he pulls away, keeping one arm around you, and looks at your dad.

"Thank you, sir," Rafe smiles, "I'll go pick them up here in a bit."

Your dad nods, stepping forward and patting Rafe on the back, then picks up the stack of plates you two were handling and takes them into the kitchen.

"Shit, babe, I can't believe it. This is awesome," he smiles.

"I'm really happy he found some," you agree. He leans down and kisses the top of your head.

"Go pack a bag," he demands, whispering against the top of your head, "We'll go get the generators and then you're staying the night with me. Just like we planned."

You're not sure what it is, but something about Rafe when he is assertive and demanding just turns you on. Anything he does, really, turns you on, but that one always gets you. You nod your head, standing on your tip-toes to give him a kiss. He makes it rougher than it usually is, letting you know he's ready to get you home and in bed.

"Go on, now," he says once he breaks away, smacking your ass to get you to go.

You nod and bite your lip, practically running up the stairs. Quickly, you throw random shit into a bag and grab a phone charger, then hurry back down the stairs. Rafe is waiting for you at the bottom, car keys in hand. He thanks both of your parents for dinner and promises your little brother he will beat him at Xbox again next time. Then, he takes your hand and leads you toward the front door as you wave to your parents.

When you get out to Rafe's truck, he opens the passenger door for you, then takes your bag and tosses it in the backseat. He climbs in the drivers seat but doesn't turn the car on, he just looks at you.

"What?" you grin at him. He licks his lips and then smirks.

"Get over here," he tells you. You look confused for a moment, so he pats his lap to tell you right where he wants you.

"Rafe, we're in my fucking driveway," you say, but you can't help the smile growing on your lips.

"Get your ass over here or I will make you come over here," he speaks.

You can feel his demanding words causing all kinds of shit to happen in your body, mainly in your underwear, and you climb over to sit in his lap, straddling him.

"This is where you belong, yeah?" he asks you, kissing the exposed skin just above your breasts.

"Yeah," you agree, tangling your hands in his hair.

"And you're my fucking girl, yeah?" he questions, moving up to the sweet spot on your neck once again.

"Oh, yeah," you grin. He smirks against your neck and then brings his lips up to meet yours.

"That's what I fucking thought."

party mishaps and helpful brothers

summary: when you’re unable to help yourself, your best friend’s brother’s the one to help. 

warnings: mentions of alcohol, spiking a drink, illusions to assault (not graphic but it’s implied indirectly) and typos, probably.

notes: this probably isn’t in rafe’s character but it’s my world and for now, you’re all living in it. also im so bad at titles ahsjakskl.

add yourself to my taglist!

Rafe Cameron did not consider you a friend. You were just his younger sister’s best friend and a Pogue and as far as he was concerned, you were nothing but a side character in his one man show.

There was nothing special about you in his eyes. You hadn’t made an attempt to make yourself present in his life and he felt no reason to pay attention to you. You were the friend of his annoying little sister who happened to spend more time in his house than he would’ve liked. He could recount the times he could hear you and Sarah laugh a little too loudly in her room, when you would walk downstairs and eat “his” food, and when you’d let yourself out of his house early in the morning.

It’s not that you’d bother associating with the brunette who seemed to look for trouble when he was bored. He was undeniably attractive, there was no doubt about that, but you had barely uttered a sentence since you met him for the first time two summers ago.

It wasn’t like Rafe would willingly associate himself with you at public events either. You two had your separate worlds and preferred to stay in them. There lay no malice between the both of you, but you were his annoying little sister’s best friend and he was her arrogant brother. Rafe didn’t need an excuse to talk to you because he didn’t want one.

But that was before he witnessed someone spike your drink.

Keep reading

morning glory (w/ hockey rafe)

lil bit of morning vacation sex with hockey rafe. 

warning: nsfw, 18+. overstimulation, oral (female receiving).

Keep reading

MORNING SEX

ELLIOT X READER SMUT

a/n: I hope you enjoy it, requests are still open so feel welcome to send them!♡

TW: afab reader!, degradation, fingering.

MASTERLIST.

the sun streamed through the window, lighting up the room and bothering two teenagers who were still trying to get some sleep.

going back to the school routine was tiring for elliot and you as rue's usual visits kept them you most of the night.

But for Elliot, there was only one good thing about getting up early.

you were turning your back on elliot since he was spooning you, your pajamas consisted of an old elliot t-shirt and pajama bottoms. you started to wake up when you felt one of elliot's hands caressing your waist raising his hand until he reached your tit and giving it a little squeeze making you moan since you knew elliot's intentions "calm down lover boy, it's still very early and we have school"

He ignored you, as he began to lower the hand that was on your tit and brought it close to the waistband of your pants.  " C'mon baby, we can make it quick and pick up something on the way for breakfast. You don't have to make any effort, just lie down."

you opened your eyes and nodded, you turn your head to see elliot and he moved your neck a little to connect their lips in a kiss. Elliot put his hand under your underwear and began to make a circular movement with his fingers making you moan in the middle of the kiss.

He slowly slipped a finger into your opening, starting a rocking motion that made your head spin,"look at this little pussy, wet just for me" You hummed at his words and arched your back as Elliot inserted another finger and began to pick up his pace, arching upward eliciting a loud moan from you.

" Calm down baby you don't want to wake up the rest and let them realize how dirty you are, do you?  Elliot whispered in your ear, which caused your ecstasy to come closer and closer, "Do you want to finish, how do you ask for it hm? "

you took one of your hands to your mouth to try to silence your moans while the other pressed the sheet tightly "Please elliot let me finish, I need to finish"

Elliot placed a kiss on your neck and pulled his fingers away from you making you cry at the loss of your orgasm, "If you ask so nicely I'll do it, but you'll gotta cum on my dick"

you wanted to insult elliot for being mean and not letting you finish but you knew that if you did he wouldn't let you finish at all.

He lowered your pants and your underwear while he lowered his. He was still spooning you but this time one of your legs was hanging from his, giving him more space.

you felt the thick tip of his penis move across your opening, teasing you  and making you whimpe, "I'm going to fuck you so well"

Elliot began to push so that his penis could enter slowly, the the stretch felt somewhat painful but the quick one distracted you by playing with your clitoris, "shit y/n, you're so tight, do you want to milk my dick so fast?

You moaned at Elliot's words, who began a slow, deep rocking motion, continuing to play with your clitoris. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and the sound of elliot's balls slamming against your ass.

"Look at you, and you didn't want to do this at first and now you're moaning like a little slut" Elliot leaves kisses on your neck, each time it became more impossible for you to resist the desire to come.  The pleasure ran through your entire body making you arch your back, biting your lips to try not to be so loud.

" Elliot please, I can't stand it, I need to finish please, make me finish" Elliot kissed you again as he increased the speed of his thrusts making you whimper louder with pleasure.

"Cum with me baby, milk my dick, yes, fuck just like that" elliot growled hiding his face in your neck, his dick throbbed inside you while he came, that was what you needed to be able to let yourself go and finish " fucking take it baby, thats right"

After the two of them came, elliot came out of you and you lay flat on the bed trying to calm your breathing.

" Good morning lover boy" you said as elliot placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, ready to run a bath for both of you and start the day.

Billy Hargrove || 2AM

~~~ in which the roles reverse, billy is the late night booty call who knows what he’s feeling is wrong but doesn’t care to stop himself.

~~~ billy hargrove x fem!reader

——————————————————————————

“Same time next week?” She asked while walking out of her bathroom in a clean set of matching pink sleeping top and shorts. “Uh yeah of course.” I said while slowly gathering my clothes from her floor. Once I was dressed I walked over to her mirror and messed with my curls, stalling in attempt to gain more time in her presence. Subtly letting my eyes wander her reflection in the mirror, I watched as she grabbed her night creams from her bedside table and gently applied them to her soft silky skin. Her peach-like smell was enticing, it enveloped her entire room making me never want to leave. Clearing my throat as I looked away, I grabbed my cigarettes and lighter from out my pocket, “Goodnight sweetheart” I said while looking at her once more before walking out of her room and making my way out of her house.

One week later…

I found myself at another meaningless party thrown by someone in the popular clique. Who? I couldn’t say but free booze and hot chicks, I’d be crazy to pass that up. As soon as I walked through the front doors a number of people approached me, Tommy and Carol with their usual antics about keeping my spot as the new Hawkins kings and random girls trying their best to catch my attention. Walking past all of them I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing the first bottle in reach and downing a gulp or two. “Hey Billy, was wondering when you would get here.” a redhead said while batting her eyelashes at me, I think her name was Rachel. Typical popular girl, dumb and looking for the hottest guy to bone. But she wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my night with. It was a Friday night, my favorite night of the week considering I spent it under the one girl who I actually cared for.

Couple hours later and a few trips to the keg, I make my way inside to find a bathroom and clean up the beer which had dripped down my face from shotgunning. Making my way through the crowd inside the house, I feel a soft hand gently caress the back of my right arm. Turning my head, instantly viewing her luscious brown locs and beautiful tan skin I love. I give her a wink and a small nod towards the stairs leading upstairs. Once I reached the bathroom, I start to rinse the beer off my neck and jaw. Turning off the water, I hear a quick knock on the door. “I was wondering how long you were gonna try to resist me.” I say slightly smirking, causing her to roll her eyes playfully. “Shut up and kiss me.” She says while pushing her way into the small restroom. “Yes ma’m” I say while locking the door and then pushing her against it. Even just the way she tastes makes my brain run wild, her soft lips make me go haywire. “20 minutes tops.” She says sternly as she starts to tug on my white wife beater tank. “Whatever you say baby” I say while breaking apart our kiss to take off my shirt, instantly going back to make my way down her neck.

“Hey so I know we don’t usually do anything outside of this, and i’m not saying that I don’t like it or anything cause I do, trust me that’s really not it-“ I say as I start to word vomit while buckling my belt, “Just get to the point.” She says while fixing her the straps to her dark green top. “Okay yeah so would you ever wanna go out? Like maybe go get dinner or something.” I say hesitantly while messing with my belt to avoid eye contact. She scoffs, “Billy, you do know what this is right?” She says as she starts to watch me play with my belt. “Sex, not friends, no dates, no romance, just sex. Don’t ask me that again.” She says before reaching up to pat my cheek and with that she’s gone like nothing ever happened. God, how stupid could I be? Of course she was gonna say no. Goddamnit Billy.

One week later…

After embarrassing myself to the point where I forced myself to leave despite nobody having a single clue of what happened, I avoided everyone at all costs. How could I, THE Billy Hargrove, be stuck up on some chick? Yeah she’s incredibly gorgeous, bangin’ body, super smart, and great sense of style but so what? I could easily find someone to replace her. I don’t care about her, I don’t care that she twirls a strand of her hair between her thumb and her pointer finger whenever she’s focused, or the way she rests her hand right above her midriff whenever she laughs, or even the way she only cracks her knuckles when she’s stressed. God, who am I kidding?

I am completely in love with her.

“Hey I know it’s only wednesday and we only meet on friday’s but I’ve just been really stressed so is there any way you can come over right now?” Her sweet voice said to me on the phone. “Um I’m a little busy right now but I’ll see what I can do.” I said to her with a straight tone, desperately trying to seem nonchalant. “Okay no yeah of course just let me know.” She said back, I could almost hear the regret in her tone. Hanging up the phone I immediately started to change into a clean shirt and my trusty Levi’s. Spraying some cologne on and fixing my curls, I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror. She could ask me to rob a bank and I would, god I am so whipped and she doesn’t even know it. Well, I rather have her like this than not at all.

my girl (part 3) - rafe cameron

a/n: there is literally so much fluff in this but i hope you guys enjoy it anyway i refused to go to bed until i finished it (not my gif) ALSO: a "certain" scene came out of nowhere i had not planned on writing it so when you get there just know i was feeling spontaneous

Summary: Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, moves you into your dorm for college. But saying goodbye proves to be a lot more difficult than either of you anticipated.

Warnings: swearing , sex (fingering, mentions of others but is not in detail) lots of tears and fluff

Word Count: 5.9k

series masterlist

my writing

Rafe is the only person that does not grumble as you move into your dorm. Your entire family had huffed and puffed all day, complaining about how long the walk from the parking lot from your room was, how hot it was outside, the amount of stuff you brought, and everything in between. By the time Rafe brought the last box up, you were completely over move-in day and you just wanted your family to leave.

He could tell you were in a mood, so he handed your brother some cash and told him to run down the hall and get some water for everyone. He does as he's told and runs off, taking your mom with him. Rafe comes over and stands beside you, wrapping his arm around you.

You don't hesitate as you fall into his chest, letting him hold you up. You're sweaty, exhausted, and grumpy, and the thought of unpacking even half of this shit just makes you mad. He wraps his arms around you, laying a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Your dad starts attempting to organize your boxes, but when he looks up and sees the two of you, he tells you he's going to make sure the car is locked. A totally bullshit excuse, but you don't even care. Alone time with Rafe sounds like heaven right now.

"You okay?" Rafe whispers against your head.

You don't reply right away, you just move closer to him, tucking yourself into his chest. There are so many different emotions running through your mind; the irritation from your family bitching, the sadness of leaving your childhood home, and then anxiety of leaving Rafe.

"This is supposed to be fun," you grumble, feeling Rafe's chest move as he laughs at you.

"It is fun, baby," he disagrees, "Look. You have this whole room to decorate, and a dining hall just a little ways away, and a nice bathroom down the hall-"

"Yeah," you scoff, "That I get to share with five other girls."

Rafe laughs again, looking down at you when he feels you look up at him. You rest your chin on his sternum and stare at him with your puppy dog eyes, the ones you know can get him to do anything.

"Is it too late to move in with you?" you ask him quietly.

"Never," he grins, "But this is where you need to be right now, yeah?"

You sigh and then nod your head, but return your eyes up to look at him again. He moves his hand up and brushes a sweaty piece of hair from your face.

"Can you at least stay the night, then?"

You know your roommate isn't moving in until tomorrow, and the thought of Rafe leaving you makes you want to attach yourself to his leg and force him to take you home with him. He nods his head slowly, a grin forming on the ends of his lips.

"I brought an overnight bag because I knew you'd ask," he lets his grin take over his face, "It's in the truck."

You smile and lean up to kiss him, so thankful that he knows what you're thinking even before you do.

You hear a knock on the door and yell for them to come in, watching your little brother peak his head in. He enters with your parents, handing you and Rafe both a water bottle. You untangle yourself from him, only for the sake of your parents. Truthfully, you're afraid if you let him go, he'll evaporate.

Your family stays for a bit, your mom obsessively organizing the boxes in the order she believes you should unpack in, and your dad trying to put together some of the shelves you brought. You tell him that Rafe is staying for a while, you can't tell him for the night because he'll freak, and that he will handle it later.

You don't necessarily want to shove them out, but you're ready for them to leave so you can be alone with Rafe without them hovering over the two of you.

After a while, they finally take your hint, and they give you their goodbyes. Your parents both cry, then tell your little brother on the way out that he's not allowed to leave them. You laugh at them as you and Rafe walk them to the parking lot to say your final goodbyes.

They all give you hugs, tell them to call anytime, and they cry some more. When they finally load themselves in the car, you exhale a sigh of relief. You've been ready to move away from your parents for a while now.

Instead of asking how you feel, Rafe just seems to know, which is why you're not surprised when he loops his arm around your neck and pulls you into his chest again, burying his face in your hair. He wishes he could bottle up your scent and bring it home so he could smell you every time he misses you.

Truthfully, he's having a lot of anxiety about getting in his truck tomorrow to leave you. He knows this is where you want to be, and he's thankful you're not further away, but he's still going to miss you like crazy.

He brings your chin up to give you a kiss, but gives you three instead. He's trying to get them all in before he leaves you, which he knows will be impossible.

"Let's get your bag from the truck," you tell him, taking his hand in yours.

As the two of you walk, hand in hand, Rafe repeatedly kisses your temple or the top of your head, just to, as he put it, 'show everyone around that you are not to be hit on'. You roll your eyes and laugh at him, but it makes you feel good so you let him do what he wants.

Once you get to the truck, Rafe unlocks it and opens the back driver's side door to retrieve his overnight bag. You, out of sheer boredom and exhaustion, open the driver's side door and hop in the seat where Rafe usually sits, letting your feet dangle off the side. He closes the door, and when he sees you, he quickly moves over and looks at you, wondering what you're doing.

"What?" you ask him, looking at him like he's crazy. The expression on his face looks as if he's worried about something - almost mad at you.

"Nothing, just get out of the truck, babe," he sighs, nothing light in his expression at all.

"Did I do something wrong?" you ask him, and when you don't move, he grabs onto your wrist and helps you down from his seat.

"No, it's fine," he huffs.

It's clearly not, but you don't push it. He shuts the door quickly and locks the car right after, then tucks the keys in his pocket. you hear him exhale with relief, then he reaches down and takes your hand like nothing is wrong. You're not sure why he's acting so bizarre, but you hope that's the last you see of it.

He swing your hands back and forth as you walk back to your room, completely and totally fine now. You don't bring it up, but boy, are you curious. He looks down and smiles at you, just taking in your beauty. Leaving you is not going to be easy tomorrow.

When you get back to your dorm, you collapse on your bed and tell Rafe to come cuddle. He shakes his head and picks up one of the boxes your mom so sweetly organized, the one labeled 'Bed'. He opens it up and pulls out your new sheets and pillows, throwing them at you.

"We don't have to unpack anything else, but I'm not sleeping on that shitty dorm room mattress without a sheet and a pillow," he tells you.

"Careful," you say as you hop off the bed, "Your rich side is showing."

Rafe rolls his eyes and picks up one of your pillows, whacking you with it. He helps you put your sheet on the bed, wanting to make it up all nice for you, but you crawl into it the second the sheets are down, so he accepts defeat and climbs up with you, bringing your comforter with him.

You immediately mold to his body under the covers, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, knowing his familiar scent will always comfort you. It brings you back to the first night you ever spent with Rafe; the two of you in his bed, totally naked under the sheets, breathing in everything about one another.

My how far you've come.

You feel him take your hand under the sheets, his fingers wrapping themselves around your ring finger possessively. He brings his other hand up to your hair, stroking it as a way of comforting you and helping you relax. It's only about three in the afternoon, but you swear you could fall asleep with him.

You hear a knock on your door, and you groan. You don't care who it is, you just want them to go away. Rafe laughs at you, then slides out from under you to get the door. You curse at him for leaving you, which just makes him smile.

He turns and pulls open the door, fixing his hair as he looks out.

"Yo," Rafe speaks, and you know he'd never speak that way to a girl.

You sit up, listening as the person at the door starts to speak.

"I'm Tucker, I'm the RA for the residence hall," he says, sounding a little confused on why Rafe is opening the door.

"Oh, I thought this was an all girl's dorm?" Rafe questions, leaning up against the door frame.

"It's not," Tucker states, his voice firm, "But that still begs the question of who the hell you are."

You sigh as you see Rafe's back muscles tense up, knowing you now have to get out of bed. You hop down and walk over to the door, pushing Rafe out of the way.

"Listen, dude-"

"Hi," you stop Rafe, holding your hand out for Tucker, "I'm Y/N. My roommate won't be here until tomorrow."

He nods his head and grabs ahold of your hand, shaking it a bit too long for Rafe's liking. You watch from the corner of your eye as he sets his hand on his hip, then coughs and glares at the RA, trying to look innocent, even though all of you know what he's doing.

Tucker drops your hand and looks down at his clipboard, then back up to you.

"Guests may not stay more than three consecutive nights," he glances at Rafe, "If you need anything, I have a room down the hall, second door on your right. Any questions or concerns, my door is always open."

Rafe steps behind you now, setting both of his hands on your hips as he stares at Tucker.

"I'm sure it is," Rafe remarks, pulling you back from the door, "And I'm sure my girlfriend will be fine. Thanks for stopping by."

Tucker glares at Rafe, then rolls his eyes.

"Thank you, Tucker," you say quietly.

You know you probably would've interrupted Rafe a lot sooner if you weren't so tired and so sick of everyone interrupting your time together, but you just didn't want to deal with it anymore.

Rafe waves his fingers at the RA, then closes the door with his foot. You don't say a word, you just glare at Rafe and then walk around him, climbing back into your bed.

"What, you're mad or something?" he groans, following you back over.

"You can just sleep in the spare bed if you're gonna act like that," you pout, pulling the covers over you and spreading your body out so he had no room to climb in.

Rafe sighs, then leans down and whispers in your ear, "I'm sorry, okay? I just wasn't a fan of that guy. What can I say? I'm just a sucker for you, I guess."

You hum in response, showing absolutely no understanding for what Rafe has just told you. You even close your eyes, pretending to go to sleep.

"Well, I'm not sleeping in the spare bed," he announces once he stands back up, and when you don't react, he adds, "I guess I'll just have to get home to my bed."

He leans over and watches your eyes pop open, so he quickly looks away and reaches for his duffle bag.

"Don't you fucking dare," you sit up quickly, watching as he looks up at you and breaks into a laugh.

He sets his bag back down on the floor and steps over to you, trying not to melt at the pouty look plastered across your face. He grabs your head and pulls you to him, stroking your back.

"I would never," he tells you, his voice softer, as if he's promising more than just tonight.

You scoot over and let him climb in bed with you again, the covers swallowing both of your bodies. This is all you've wanted all day, and you're extremely grateful that you're finally getting it.

A few hours later, Rafe tells you he wants to go eat, and you offer up the dining hall. Mainly, you do it as a joke, because you know Rafe and you know he would never eat there. You just want to see his face get all scrunched up as he's grossed out by the thought, which is exactly what he does when you suggest it.

"No, baby," he groans, "A nice place. It's the last time I get to take you out for a bit. Come on, up you go."

He starts to drag you from the bed, and as much as you don't want to go, you get up for him. Because he wants to do this for you.

You change out of your gross clothes and replace it with a cute, casual sundress. Nothing too fancy, but not bad either. Rafe throws on a Polo, asking you to button the second button for him because he 'can't fucking get it'.

You walk hand in hand to the truck once again, the only difference being that it's darker now. Rafe keeps trying to push away the ache in his chest as the hours pass, knowing it's only getting closer to him having to leave. He wants to stay with you forever, but he knows he can't. As Tucker had so gently told him, guests are not permitted longer than three nights. So he figures forever might be a bit of a stretch.

He opens the door of the truck for you and takes his time watching you climb in, hoping a draft will come through and be strong enough to make your dress fly up. He's unfortunately very mistaken, so he just gives you a kiss instead.

When he gets in the truck, he sets his arm across the center console and puts his hand on your thigh. This usually wouldn't phase you, but Rafe usually holds your hand on the center console as he drives. You just shrug it off, choosing not to mention it to him.

He takes you to a nice place he had researched and ended up making reservations at, just in case you had asked him to stay with you. It was a little bit of a drive from campus, but you didn't mind and neither did he.

You both sit at dinner and try to keep the conversation light, but it quickly turns into you getting emotional when Rafe starts preaching about how much he loves you.

"Baby, come on, don't cry," he says, but not because he's embarrassed, just because he knows he'll cry, too.

"I'm sorry," you wipe the corner of your eye, trying to prevent the tear from falling down your cheek.

He reaches across the table and takes your hand, squeezing it as his way of subtly comforting you.

"I'm sorry," you repeat, looking up at him, "I just don't want you to go."

Rafe nods his head, feeling the same way. He swallows his hesitations and his anxieties, knowing they will only be a burden to you now as you make this transition.

"I can be here any time you need me. And you can come home, we're going to be just fine," he says, convincing himself as much as he's trying to convince you.

"Promise me," you say, sniffling and then exhaling, "Promise that you're with me."

Rafe's eyes soften and his heart almost melts in his chest as he looks at you, blubbering and holding back tears as you ask him to do that. He feels guilty, thinking you should already be one-hundred percent sure he's with you.

"Baby," he says, his voice serious, "I promise you. I love you."

You nod your head, soaking in the words and using them to relax. You play them over again in your head, trying to commit them to memory so you never forget it.

"Okay," you nod after a second, "All right. I love you, too."

Rafe sits back in his chair but still keeps ahold of your hand. He only lets go when your food comes out, and he changes the subject and lightens the mood by bringing up the gift he wants to get your little brother at Christmas. It's some Xbox game you've never heard of, but Rafe seems excited about it, and you think it's sweet that he's planning out a gift for your brother months before the holiday.

Once you both finish eating, Rafe takes care of the bill and then takes your hand, guiding you out of the restaurant. He steps over to hold the passenger door open for you as usual, but instead of getting in the truck, you lean up and kiss them. You're firm and controlling, yet gentle all at the same time. It's enough to make Rafe melt. Or totally turn him on.

"Get in the truck," he speaks, his voice raspy. You can tell you've done something to him, so you bite your lip and do as you're told, ignoring how he swears under his breath when he looks at you.

He closes the door behind you and practically runs to his side, not even waiting to shut his door before he kisses you again. He grabs both sides of your face and pulls you to him, but you're just not close enough.

"Get over here," he demands, but doesn't wait for you to move. He grabs your hips and picks you up as best he can, relying on your help to climb over the console and onto his lap.

You do, just like you've done countless times before, and continue to kiss him. He moans against your mouth, only turning you on more. He moves his mouth down to your neck, not even caring about whether or not you want hickeys on your neck on the first day of school. You're getting them.

He bites you, as soft as he possibly can, which makes you gasp. You feel him grin against your neck, but the work he's doing feels too good to stop him.

He continues working on your neck while one of his hands travels down underneath your dress. He quickly pushes your underwear aside in one motion and slips two of his fingers inside of you. You gasp again, the cool metal of his ring surprising you.

"You kiss me like that and don't expect a reaction?" he looks at you, smirking as he watches you groan.

"Rafe," you moan, wanting him to move his fingers faster.

"Hmm?" he moves down to your neck again, then back up to your lips, "What is it, baby?"

You gasp as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he just loves watching you take it.

"Oh, my God," you moan, louder than meaning to, the second he speeds up.

He knows exactly what you want, you don't even have to tell him. He knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows where to kiss you on your neck to turn you on, he knows the spot your inner thigh that makes you gasp every time he kisses it, he know exactly how deep in you he needs to get to make you scream.

And you fucking love it.

"Come on, baby," he says, his voice soothing as he uses his other hand to stroke your back, "Come on, now."

He feels you clench around him and smirks, pulling back to watch your face as you let go onto his hand. He pulls his fingers out after a minute, bringing them up to his mouth while he continues to smirk at you.

"Jesus, Rafe," you say, sitting back against the steering wheel.

He sees you start to relax and shakes his head, looking up at you with a devious grin.

"I'm not gonna be able to last until the dorm, baby," he says, "Take your underwear off."

You stare at him, watching as he orders you, and try to take a mental picture of this look right now. It will have to be the one that gets you off every time you miss him and wish he was there to fuck you.

So, you do as he says, removing your underwear without hesitation, and watch his smirk grow.

You and Rafe arrive back at the dorm much later than you had originally planned, but you would've been later if you had indulged Rafe in round two like he wanted. You promise him one back at the dorm instead.

He's learning his way around the campus quickly, you can tell, because he leads you all the way from the parking lot to your dorm. When you get in, you take your dress, and your soaked underwear, off and change into shorts and the shirt Rafe had been wearing before he changed for dinner. It's a Kildare Island shirt, but you've wanted it for some time now, and you know he'll let you have it.

Rafe takes off his shirt and shorts, staying only in his boxers. When he turns around and sees you in the shirt he had been wearing not four hours ago, he just smiles and shakes his head, knowing he's lost it.

You both crawl into bed together, not being able to get close enough to one another. He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger, watching the way it falls and pops back into it's pin straight nature.

"I love you so much," you tell him, feeling your tears start to come up again.

He takes a deep breath, one you feel against your head, trying to contain his emotions as well.

"I love you, too, baby."

You move and leave a kiss on his stomach, then another, then another. He moves his hand up to the top of your head, stroking it through your hair as he feels your lips work on his skin. You trail up his chest and to his lips, kissing him again.

This kiss is different, it's not full of lust and want, it's full of need. You need him, you know that, and he needs you back. He kisses you back with the same intensity, doing his best to hold you to him.

Rafe wants to move this even further, but you can feel the tears start to well up in your eyes again. He sits up and pulls you into his lap as the first one falls, another one quickly behind it. He feels the water on his finger and pulls away from the kiss to look at you.

You sniffle, trying to keep it in, but he can see it on your face right away.

"I'm sorry," you say before he can speak first, letting more tears fall down.

"Oh, baby," he sighs, pulling you into his chest and stroking down your back, "It's okay. Everything's okay."

You two sit like that for a long time, so long that Rafe can feel your body relax, then hears a soft snore on his shoulder from you. He smiles, glad he was able to coax you into sleep, and gently slides himself flat on the bed, bringing you with him.

And he falls asleep like that, with you completely wrapped around him, not letting go if your life depended on it.

You wake up the next morning with both your arms wrapped around Rafe's neck, your legs wrapped around his. He's snoring, you're pretty sure this is one of very few times he's slept later than you. He looks so handsome, so soft, so gentle, which only gets you emotional again.

You almost feel ridiculous being so attached to him. He's told you everything you wanted to hear, promised you he's with you for good, and yet, you worry. You worry about growing apart, you worry about him finding someone else, you even worry about something happening to him. You just know that losing him, in any sense of the word, would literally be your nightmare.

You lay there for a while, brushing your hand lightly over his cheeks, his soft skin, and just watch him sleep. You think about how you love him more than you've ever loved anyone or anything. Ever. He is it for you, that you're sure of.

"Hmm, good morning, baby," Rafe mumbles out, his voice still groggy.

"Good morning," you reply, doing your best to smile for him.

He reaches up and pulls your chin down to him to give him a kiss. He smiles, a real, genuine smile, before it hits him that this might be the last time in a while that he gets to wake up with you.

"Sleep okay?" you ask, setting your head back down on him again.

"The best night sleep I will get for the next few weeks, that's for damn sure," he tells you, trying to laugh it off but you both know he means it.

You both lay there for a while, not wanting to talk about it. You know Rafe can't stay all day, because he has to get back to work for Ward, but neither of you rush him leaving.

When he finally does tell you that you both need to get up, you just nod. He can tell by your face that you just need to take this process slowly, and that he can do for you. He tells you to go down the hall and shower first, so you do.

When you return, still with those same puppy dog eyes, Rafe kisses you and tells you he'll be back after he showers. He makes it quick because he doesn't want to leave you alone for too long. When he comes back into the room, you're laying back down on the bed, your wet hair soaking your pillowcase.

You look up at him and stare as he stands there in a towel and nothing else. He steps over and sits down, watching as you move your head over and set it in his lap. He strokes your wet hair, knowing words are not what you need right now.

After a bit, you turn your head and look up at him, staring at him for a second before you say, "Take me, Rafe."

No games, no jokes, no playing. You just wanted to feel close to him. He nods his head as you move up to lay down, watching as he takes his towel off and climbs on top of you.

He shows you just how much he loves you. Kissing every square inch on your body. You can feel him everywhere, and you know it's by far the most passionate sex you two have ever had. The most intimate.

Once you two finish, he lays with you for a while. He writes his name in your skin with the base of his index finger. He tells you how much he loves you, and how you're the only one for him.

You start to cry when he gets dressed. He does his best to kiss the tears away one by one, then uses the base of his thumb to wipe away any more that come after you promise you're okay.

He packs all his clothes in his bag, minus one Kildare Island shirt, and then zips it up, turning around to you to tell you he's gotta get back to the island now. You nod your head and reach out to take his hand, promising yourself you're not going to cry.

You both walk incredibly slow out to the truck. He keeps bringing his hand up to kiss your knuckles.

Once the truck is in sight, you stop and look up at Rafe.

"I don't want to be here anymore," you tell him, shaking your head.

Rafe pulls your head to his chest and drops his bag on the ground, wrapping both arms around you.

"Baby, this is where you need to be. You'll figure out your groove and adjust in no time. You hear me?"

You nod your head and sniffle, and Rafe swears he could just throw you in the truck and take you home with him. But he knows he has to do what's best for you.

"All right," you say. He picks his bag up again and walks to the truck, still holding onto you.

He opens up the back door and throws the bag inside, then turns back to you with a sad kind of smile.

"You should know, I tucked a pair of your underwear in my bag."

This makes you laugh, which in turn makes him laugh.

"Weirdo," you sigh, shaking your head.

He pulls you into him again, this hug feeling more final. He holds back his own tears as he squeezes onto you, hoping and praying that he will get to see you soon.

"Please don't leave me," you say quietly, immediately feeling selfish when you do.

Going to school had been your decision, and now you're putting all the pressure on Rafe to comfort you and stay with you. You know you're being unfair.

"Oh, my God, baby," he speaks, his voice cracking with his own emotions, "You know I would never."

You wet his shirt as you start to cry, and when he feels you shake, he lets his own tears fall.

"You're going to be fine," he says, sniffling to keep his tears from soaking the top of your head.

You try your best to pull it together, knowing Rafe doesn't have all day to babysit your crying ass. So, you do what Rafe has done a thousand times. You suck it up. You pull your head away from his chest and wipe your face, then look up at him.

"You're right," you say, "I'm gonna be fine. And if I'm not, I can come home after a semester and figure something out."

Rafe shakes his head, "No escape routes, Y/N. You're doing this. Just relax, okay, babe?"

You just nod. He leans down and kisses you, letting it linger before he kisses you one last time.

"I'll see you soon, baby," he promises.

You nod again, afraid if you speak, your voice will be unsteady and Rafe will start to cry again. He opens up his door and climbs into the seat, turning around for a moment to the console and tucking something into his pocket before he turns back to you.

"Rafe," you say, watching as he brings his eyes up to yours, "I love you."

He looks at you for a brief moment, his heart swelling in his chest, before he says the words that almost make your heart stop.

"Marry me."

Your jaw falls open, but you quickly shake your head and realize he's just talking about the future.

"Rafe," you groan.

He hops out of the truck and walks over to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders.

"I mean it. Marry me, baby. I love you and I know that it's you, and I don't know a lot, but that I'm sure of," he rambles, staring at you as you realize he's serious.

"Rafe-" you start again, but he stops you.

"I know we're fucking young but I don't care. I don't want anyone else and I will never want anyone else. I'm sorry babe, but I can't go back to that island like this, I need to know that you're here, with a piece of mu heart on your finger and to know that I have every intention in the world of being with you for the rest of my life-"

"Oh, my God, Rafe," you start to laugh at his rambling, at the way he doesn't realize you don't need much convincing, "Baby, take a breath."

He inhales deeply, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. Your face drops as you stare at it.

"What is that?" you ask him, even though you know full well what it is.

"I bought it the day we came home from that college tour at USC. I mean, I've known since the day we started dating that it was you, but I completely made up my mind after that trip. It's always going to be you, baby."

Your eyes well up so fast that you can't stop the tears from falling. He bought you a fucking ring. You cry even harder as he sinks down to one knee in the middle of the parking lot, looking up at you with nothing but love and tears in his eyes.

"Please be my wife, Y/N."

He opens the box and your eyes grow wide. The ring is everything you've ever dreamed of, everything you have ever wanted. And so is the boy.

You look from the ring to him, looking at how sure he is that this is what he wants.

"Rafe, we're so young," you tell him through your tears.

He stands up and comes over to you, pulling your chin up to look at him.

"So, we'll have a long engagement," he shrugs.

"What about our parents?" you ask, hoping to give him all of your hesitations just so he can fix them.

"We'll have a long engagement," he repeats, as if it's obvious how that would solve it.

"Rafe-"

"Will there be an answer to this question, because I think I'm starting to go into cardiac arrest," he tells you, laughing as he speaks.

"Oh, my God," you laugh, "Yes, of course I will marry you, Rafe Cameron!"

Rafe smiles from ear to ear as he practically tackles you in a fit of hugs and kisses. He kisses every inch of your face, then reaches for your hand and pulls it out, sliding the ring on your finger. Everything about it is perfect. It fits you beautifully and looks absolutely stunning on you.

"I love you so much," he tells you, kissing your lips again.

"I love you, too," you smile.

And as you stand there, being held by the man who makes you feel the safest, and staring at the ring that will one day make you Rafe's wife, every fear you had twenty minutes ago melts away

'til the morning comes (4/?)

steve rogers x reader (fluff and angst)

summary: steve makes it up to you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of drinking

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (series masterlist)

 “Is this a paltry attempt to get your job back?”

 You shoot a mean look at Dane over the whiteboard, where you’re filling in bubble letters with red marker. WELCOME TO THE ART FESTIVAL! it reads, poised on a rickety easel by the main entrance.

 “No judgment.” He laughs, innocently raising his hands full of multicolored popsicle sticks. “We just miss you.”

 “Yes, we do.” Sersi raises an eyebrow as she sorts paint into plastic bins. “But Dane, why would Ms. Penthouse in New York—”

 “I do not live in a penthouse—”

 “Soon-to-be Mrs. Steve Rogers—” Joaquín adds, winking at you.

 “Miss us?” She ends her question by bumping her hip against yours.

 You frown. “Of course I do!” Replacing the cap on your marker, you lob it across the hallway, celebrating briefly once it lands in the intended cardboard box. “Why else would I have dragged his campaign trail here?”

 Joaquín eyeballs the length of his project, a paper chain with alternating school colors. “Because apparently this place only cares about the arts when it brings famous senators, and thus national recognition.”

 “You know we shouldn’t cut into—” Sersi gasps for effect, “—instructional time.”

 “Don’t you know kids are only as valuable as their math and English scores?” Dane says, jutting a finger in his wife’s direction while he claims the chair next to you.

 You can’t help the smile stealing onto your face at the familiarity of this embittered banter.

 Organizing an after-school art festival wouldn’t win your job back. To the uninitiated, the gesture might seem well-intentioned: giving back to the institution that meant so much to you. In reality, your resignation covered up the fact that you were let go, and obscured the unceremonious dissolution of the art program from the local news. From your perspective, this photo-op looks like a fat middle finger to the administration. I can single-handedly make this place better without even working here.

 Actually, not single-handedly. Steve helped. A lot.

 As much as you missed venting with your friends about the state of education, your primary goal tonight is to create art alongside some amazing kids. Nothing more. “It’ll be fun for them,” you say, though you lack certitude. “Do you think they’ll still recognize me?”

 Sersi labels each bin with a room number. The largest one receives the name Atrium. “Cassie asks about you every other day.”

 You shouldn’t pick favorites, yet you grin. “Let’s get drinks tonight, before I have to head back.”

 Joaquín chuckles. “On a school night?”

 Like you haven’t done that a few times already. “Please?” You pout, shoving your cheek into Dane’s shoulder. “It’s so lonely over there.”

 “Hey, honey?”

 You pop up at the sound of Steve’s voice behind you.

 No one asked for it, least of all you, but he insisted on helping the school and campaign staff distribute each activity’s supplies to its corresponding classroom. From face painting and origami to shaving cream art and air-dry clay sculptures, every room was booked.

 For the first time, he’s empty-handed, no construction paper or colored pencils in sight. He approaches you timidly.

 “Hey,” you return softly, touching his wrist.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m great.”

 “I think everything’s ready.” He nods at your friends then drops his head, lightly nudging your shoes with his toe.

 You squeeze his fingers, wondering where that confident senator Steve has gone. He acted cordially with your friends earlier. Maybe after all that work, he’s tired.

 But the night has barely begun. “Lights, camera, action?”

 His smile for you is tentative. “Yeah.”

— — —

 “Mr. Rogers, can I have the blue?”

 “Of course, Cassie,” Steve responds, reading the name tag stuck to her shirt. “Light blue or dark blue?” He presents two styrofoam plates covered in paint, like it’s the hardest decision she’ll ever make.

 She splats her hand into the light blue. “Did you know your wife used to be my art teacher?”

 Steve follows her, holding the plate and ensuring none of the acrylic will drip and ruin the other handprints.

 Technically, it didn’t matter. You and Steve posed hours earlier, holding one end of the banner and blinking under the camera flashes. The principal supported the opposite side, and a carefully chosen group of diverse kids stood in front, pointing at the mural Brookemont Elementary will proudly display on the main wall of the atrium.

 Cameras had followed one or both of you almost all evening. They wanted candid shots of you working with the students for their front page stories. That visual narrative of Steve “Family Man” Rogers, as relatable as a father on the PTA. And you, playing the part of his wholesome, maternal fianceé.

 Of course, at every opportunity, you stole away with your former coworkers and laughed and reminisced and discussed which bar to visit tonight.

 Nearly all the teachers and families have left. Sersi and the others had been busy cleaning their classrooms, but you had the privilege to loiter by the exit and receive dozens of hugs and thank you's. You reveled in the joyful faces of students who will return to school tomorrow and see their art projects dried and ready.

 Steve stood against the opposite wall, high-fiving kids and chatting with parents. He shot you a couple shy smiles, and suddenly you wanted to cut through the parade and hug him.

 “She’s not my wife yet,” Steve reminds her.

 Given all the enthusiastic, patient, and kind energy he needed for interacting with the students, you’re hardly surprised that a dopey grin comes easily now. Plus, Cassie has that effect.

 Scott, her father, lovingly punches your shoulder while you work together to screw the caps onto several paint bottles.

 “She was awesome. She helped me make a sculpture of an ant.” Cassie lowers herself, smacking the canvas.

 “An ant?” Steve asks, his confusion obvious.

 You chime in. “Are they still your favorite animal, Cassie?”

 “Yes.” She signals to Scott with half-blue fingers. “Daddy, show him the picture!”

 Steve’s eyebrows raise when Scott shows him the photo on his phone. You and Cassie appended three styrofoam balls using toothpicks, covered them with colorful papier-mâché, and shoved in eight bent pipe cleaners. Two small ones for the antennae, six for the legs. “Wow, that’s really cool.”

 He’s genuinely impressed. It makes you want to tackle him to the ground and kiss his face, not caring that his back would get stained with a half-dry rainbow splatter.

 “What was his name again?” you ask.

 “Ant-thony,” Scott laughs. “Hey, how are you?” He rips off paper towels from the industrial-sized roll sitting nearby, offering one to Cassie and one to you. “Is it weird being back?”

 You scrub the red and purple and yellow off your fingertips, grinning. “Uh, is it weird that Cassie is going to be in third grade next year?”

 “It’s horrifying for me, but she’s excited, right, Peanut?” He ruffles Cassie’s hair. She’s too busy watching Steve remove the paint from her tiny palm, the paper scrunched inside his fist. “Thanks for doing this.”

 “You should thank Steve.” Speaking of, he gets to his feet and pecks your cheek fleetingly. “I couldn’t have done it without him and his team.”

 “Thank you, sir.” Scott salutes, laughing at his own silliness. “For bringing the arts back to Brookemont Elementary School, even for just one night.”

 “Steve Rogers.” After he discards the towel, the two share a brisk handshake.

 “Scott Lang.” He lifts his daughter onto his hip. “I hope you remember us when you’re inaugurated.”

 “I will.” From his tone, you know he’s making a promise.

 “And you, Ms. First Lady.” Scott points at you, and Cassie imitates him. “Don’t forget where you came from.”

 “Yeah!” Her accusatory finger quickly dissolves into a wave. “Bye Ms. First Lady and Mr. President! Have a good night!”

 You watch them go.

 In another time, you might have flinched when Steve’s hand finds your waist. Although tonight has been fatiguing, you’ve felt dreamily happy, so you sigh and lean on his solid chest, relieved to be alone.

 “We should put our hands on this, right?”

 The mural spans the width of the hallway, yet color covers the majority of its surface. It’s a mark of success that you can’t easily find a place to accommodate two more prints.

 “You should.” You wrinkle your nose, spinning within his embrace. “But I’m not a teacher here anymore.”

 Joaquín, Sersi, and Dane placed theirs in a corner, three adult-sized purple handprints awkwardly clumped together. They did it together, and you were probably occupied. You choke at the thought, nostalgic for the times when they wouldn’t have left you out of anything.

 “Oh, c'mon. This festival has your name written all over it.” Steve’s thumb sweeps an arc along your spine. “Which color do you want?”

 You shrug, a little flustered. “You pick.”

 He chooses the green. After you dip your palm, you give him a soft high five, smearing his skin with acrylic. Laughing together, you fill the biggest chunk of white space left, the heel of your hand fitting inside the space between his thumb and pointer.

 “Perfect,” he murmurs, after your sticky palms peel away.

 His touch never leaves your waist. That gentle pressure is the only thing keeping your ribcage from bursting.

 Careful not to smudge you, he helps you stand. “Staff bathroom’s this way.” You motion toward the east wing, anxious to get him alone alone.

 He nods. “Alright, be right there.”

 The water runs almost clear by the time Steve returns. He wedges himself awkwardly beside the sink so he can wash his hands with you.

 You thought the silence would be comfortable, but Steve is clearly buzzing with something. He clears his throat. “I overheard you talking about getting drinks.” He doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’ll pick you up afterward, if you text me.”

 You nearly forgot how much you’re looking forward to hanging out with your friends later. “You should come.” Flicking a couple droplets at him, you giggle. “Helen might stop by.”

 He knows her, but not really. Besides the day he helped you move out, Steve has only stuck his face into the occasional video call you’ve made in the kitchen to say hi to her. They would get along, you think, but you can’t be certain.

 “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

 “Oh. That's fine.” You dig a bit of green from underneath your nails. Some horrible vacuum has sucked out the easy flow you and Steve had a few moments ago. It saddens you, but what were you expecting? “Too many public appearances for one day?”

 “I don’t want to get in the way.”

 “You’re the whole reason we’re here,” you offer gratefully.

 He frowns. “I’m the whole reason you left San Francisco in the first place.”

 You tear a towel from the dispenser, swallowing down what little pride you have. You’ve given him such a huge part of yourself and your life. Finally, you want to share something. He couldn’t possibly feel ill at ease around Dane’s drunk ass or Joaquín on the karaoke machine.

 “Let’s take advantage while we're here." You toss the trash away. “It'll be fun.”

 "Some other time." His lips barely curve. “We’ll do a big dinner out next time we’re here, my treat.”

 Not worth the effort, you decide. “Did you have fun today, at least?”

 He answers earnestly: “It was exhausting, but I loved it.”

 Huh. You kinda thought Steve couldn’t love anything.

 Once he finishes washing his hands, he digs inside his pocket. “I forgot, uh—I painted you something.”

 You blink. “Wait, you what?”

 He unfolds a tabloid-sized sheet of paper, sweeping it toward you sheepishly. “Sorry if it got smudged, it took forever to dry.”

 It’s the Golden Gate Bridge.

 Or the closest approximation he could manage using watercolors made for children. With the exception of the bright red bridge, you see how much he thinned the overly-saturated paint, going for subtle tone changes and mixing colors for additional depth. The pale water reflects his delicate brushwork on the cables, the setting sun, and the purple sky.

 He must have started early in the evening. Revisited to add more layers. And minutes ago, Steve carefully lifted this piece off the drying racks, gingerly folded the stiff paper, and slipped it inside his pocket to surprise you.

 It’s the most cheesy San Francisco thing he could’ve depicted, but you still wanna cry. “Steve, why would you…?”

 He fumbles. “The brush was really cheap, and hard to control.”

 “It’s so gorgeous.” You stare at him. “I had no idea you could do this.”

 “I did it for you.” He shrugs, an attempt to convince you both that this gesture means nothing. “I know you missed being home.”

 You’re almost mad he didn’t tell you. He’s a practiced artist. It’s possible he took classes. This isn’t the first landscape created by the hands of Steve Rogers, this lush scene with a sense of perspective, and thoughtful composition, and the warmth of home.

 For you, he said.

 So you grab his face and kiss him. It lingers twice as long as the appropriate smooches you volunteer in public, which isn’t saying much.

 “Sorry.” The second you pull away, you spot a thin inch of paint streaking his cheekbone. Realizing you missed a spot, you glance at your palms. “I got… on your—”

 Your relationship is so exposed, meticulously crafted for the public eye. Every look and every touch, an invitation for inspection and ridicule.

 This, though, it’s private, your thrilling secret, savored knowledge you’ll keep locked tight even if this relationship ends up falling apart: the feverish way Steve draws you toward the softness of his mouth, the distant taste of sugared mint on his tongue, the sharp ache radiating from your elbow when he clumsily shoves you back and then above the rim of the sink.

 “Is this okay?” He roughly palms behind your knee, and despite the slippery material of your skirt, Steve keeps your ass from falling inside the bowl, never lets your lips any further than a millimeter from his.

 His low pitch shreds you to tiny pieces, yet you have sense enough to remind him, “I kissed you first, stupid.”

 “What time do I pick you up?”

 You whine as his teeth test the sensitive skin of your neck. “Steve.”

 “What time?” he repeats, the tender cloud of his breath scorching a path toward your heart. “Tell me and I’ll be there.”

 You whimper, you can’t think with his fingertips finding the hem of your top and searching for bare skin. “Eleven?”

 That number seems... reasonable? You don’t even know the time right now.

 “Eleven o’clock,” he agrees gruffly. “Sharp.”

 You nod pathetically, pawing at his hair. Thirty more seconds, you promise yourself.

 Okay. Maybe just a minute more. Then you’ll stumble away from this, and fix your clothes, and find your friends. “Sharp.”

— — —

masterlist

Harmonia (@honeiee)

Harmonia Rosales repaints classic artworks to show God is a black woman

Ahead of her latest show, New World Conciousness, the painter reflects on why we must reject the stale, pale, male traditions of art

obx masterlist!

Started: 8/15/21

Last Updated: 01/02/22

*My work is not to be moved from this site, copied, or transferred in any way. I work very hard on my writing and hope that my readers will understand and respect this. Thank you!

Please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I cannot monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ i advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

My requests are open! I write for Rafe, JJ, and Barry :)

✩ Rafe Cameron

crazy love masterlist (series)

my girl masterlist (series)

ambivalence masterlist (series)

burnout masterlist (series)

lock the door

whipped

love affair

my one and only

good girl

save me

mine

protection

jealous

apologies

that way

✩ Barry

need you

Bets & Bargains - Part 8

Series Masterlist

➪in which bradley shows you just how skilled he is when he gets you alone, and you both find out a little more about your past relationships.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Isn’t the flannel I gave you enough?” Bradley asked with a laugh from his place on his bed, watching as you rummaged around in his closet. “What are you doing?”

“You seriously don’t have a UVA hoodie? You go here, don’t you?” You ask instead of answering his questions, your body being covered in the very flannel he gave you this morning before class. It was bigger on you than it was on him, so instead of it ending near your waist like it did with him, it fell to your mid thigh. 

He laughed again, leaning back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. “Yeah, but I don’t have a hoodie,”

You turn around and glare at him, stopping your search in his messy closet as you make your way to his unmade bed. “Well, get one,” you say and crawl over to him, sitting on your knees next to his thighs. 

“Why?” He asked, reaching over and placing his hand on your bare leg, your shorts doing nothing to cover your smooth skin from him. “So you can steal it, too?”

You smirk and lean over, ghosting your lips against his as you nod. “Exactly,” you answer, kissing him quickly before getting back up and heading towards his closet again. 

Bradley grunted at the short lived kiss, his eyes dipping down to the backs of your thighs as you turned away from him. “I already told you, babes,” he mumbled, propping one arm behind his head. “You won’t find one in there.”

You wave him off as your eyes lock onto something hung up on the far side of the closet, and you disappear behind the door for a few seconds before coming back out. “No, but look what I found instead,” you say in a tone that had his jeans tightening a bit. That and the way you bite down on your lip and hold up his football jersey he wore all throughout high school. 

“Oh,” he trailed off, forgetting he even had that in there. He hadn’t worn it or seen it since he moved into the frat house two years ago. 

“And look at that,” you say, more so to yourself as you turn the hanger around and look at the back of the red jersey. “It’s got your name on it and everything.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, bending one of his knees and propping his foot up. “The name everyone here calls me by.”

“Everyone but me,” you correct, using your freehand to start unbuttoning his flannel he was sure he was never getting back. 

“‘Cause you’re special,” he said, watching with darkening eyes as you shrug off the patterned fabric and let it drop to the floor. You were left in a floral crop top for only a few seconds before you took his jersey off the hanger and slipped it over your shoulders. “Fuck.”

The smile you gave him when you looked up had his jeans tightening even more as you held your arms out. “Well?” You asked, turning around and showing off his last name on your back. “What do you think?”

Bradley swallowed harshly, his hand itching to touch you as you spun to face him again. “I think...” he trailed off, meeting your eyes as he shifted on his bed. “You need to come here.”

You bite your lip again before leaning against the still open closet door, your fingers tracing along the frame of it. “But it’s so fun watching you squirm from over here,”

“Y/n,” he muttered, making your eyes widen in excitement. “Get over here. Now.”

You press your lips together and push away from the door, slowly making your way over to him as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. “Did I do something wrong?” You sweetly asked, placing one knee on the bed as you kept a few inches of space between you and him. 

“No,” he managed to answer, reaching out and wrapping his hand around your wrist. He pulls you fully onto the bed and onto his lap, your body settling on his similar to the way it was in his Jeep. “No, baby, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He was answering a question you had teasingly asked him, and he knew that you were well aware of the fact that you held a certain power over him in this moment. “You sure?” You asked as you braced your hands on his shoulders. 

“Shut up,” Bradley murmured, catching the smallest glimpse of your grin before he pressed his lips to yours. The content moan you release against his mouth and the way your body slowly rolled on top of his had Bradley squeezing his eyes tightly shut, still in disbelief that you were able to make him feel like this. 

He had no idea why, but the sight of you wearing something he used to care so much about was doing things to him, and the way you were wearing his fucking last name was almost too much. It was as if you were his; his to claim, to brand, and he supposed you actually are since he asked you to be his girlfriend yesterday. 

You’re his girlfriend. 

Bri had dumped him a week ago this morning, and he had already found himself another girlfriend. Was that too fast? Maybe, but Bradley honestly didn’t just see you as his girlfriend; he sees you as the person he clicked with pretty much instantly and has a lot of fun with. The things he’s felt with you, done with you, and talked to you about had never been a factor in his relationship with Bri, and maybe that made her reason to break up with him a good one since he clearly didn’t feel as strongly about her as he initially thought he did. 

Bradley moves one of his hands down to your hip, then to the back of your thigh. He could feel the goosebumps that formed on your skin and he smirked against your lips. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are yet?” He asked as he slid this right thigh in between both of yours, pulling away from your mouth and running the tip of his nose along the side of your neck. 

“Um,” you trailed off breathlessly, clearly dropping your mocking attitude and making him grin since he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “No, not yet.”

Bradley ran his tongue along your neck, inhaling the rose scent of your perfume that went very well with the floral shirt you had on under his jersey. “Well,” he murmured, kissing the skin below your ear. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

The moan you let out went right to his cock, and without another word being said, he turned you over and pinned your hands above your head and under his pillow. “Bradley,” you whispered, leaning up and trying to kiss him but he pulled away with a smirk on his lips.

You huff out a breath as he kisses down your neck, sucking on your pulse point until your skin was a deep red. He marked you like you had done to him on Friday, and he soothed the irritated skin with his tongue afterwards. “I know,” he cooed, beaming at the mark he knew would darken by the next time he sees you. 

He gently pushes the jersey up until your lower stomach is exposed to his relentless mouth, his lips pressing on every new inch of skin revealed. You moan softly, hesitantly reaching out to him and making him lift his head. “Um,” you trailed off, giving him an embarrassed smile. “Can I…?”

Bradley smiled at you and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the area below your belly button, and it grew when he saw the way you shuddered. “You can touch me,” he answered the question you didn’t finish asking, taking your hand in his and guiding it to the top of his head when he saw the way you still looked hesitant. “I’m your boyfriend now, you can touch me wherever you want.”

He was trying to get a point across to you, but even Bradley was still in a bit of shock that he is already officially dating you. Is it too quick? Probably. Did he honestly, truly care? Not a single fucking bit. 

You relaxed once he reminded you that it was more than okay to touch him, and the sight of you leaning back against his pillow was enough to have his mind clouding over with sinful thoughts. Even though you pretty much established it, he still asked, “Can I touch you?”

Bradley watched as you bit down on your lip and nodded slowly, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah,” you answered verbally consented before he could ask you for it, and that was all he really needed. 

The hot makeout and grind session he had with you in the front seat of his Jeep didn’t really allow him to explore your body like this, and after being so into you from the second he saw you, he felt like he was a starved man. Now that he had your full consent and had established a mutual understanding, he wasn’t holding back. He pushed the jersey and your floral shirt up higher until it was just barely still covering your bra, his head dipping down to kiss all over your ribcage. 

Your skin was so smooth and it smelled like a mix of roses and coconut, a scent Bradley didn’t realize he loved so much. His lips were pressed to your hip when his hand slid up your thigh and began to unzip your jean shorts, and that was when your pretty moans stopped and your body jolted a bit. “Wait,” you gasped quietly, reaching down with the hand that wasn’t in his hair and grabbing his wrist. 

Bradley stopped instantly, lifting his head from your kiss coated stomach and looking up at you. “Sorry,” he apologized, moving his hand away from your unzipped shorts. “Too fast?” You hadn’t actually mentioned how far you wanted this to go, and Bradley was more than okay with you stopping it now. He was in no rush right now, and whatever you wanted was what he wanted. 

When he began to lift his body from between your thighs, you whimpered. “Wait,” you said again, softly tugging on his hair. He paused, his shoulders pressed to your knees as he waited for you to continue. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m being weird.” You mumbled and Bradley laughed, turning his head to kiss the side of your knee. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he murmured, sliding his wrist away from your grasp and taking your hand in his. “Just tell me what you want.” 

A pink tint ghosted over your face as you pressed your lips together. “Is it okay if we….don’t rush the sex thing?” You asked and Bradley opened his mouth to tell you that he was more than okay with that, but you continued before he could say anything. “I’m not, like, a virgin or anything…I just…I really like you, Bradley, and I don’t want to rush into things, you know?”

Bradley smiled up at you and kissed your knee again, humming in agreement. “Oh, trust me, I know,” he grinned, resting his head against your thigh. “I really like you, too, and I don’t want to rush things either.”

The smile you gave him had his heart beating wildly in his chest as you nodded. “Okay,” you whispered, trailing your fingers along his cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“‘Course, babes,” he mumbled, reaching up to tug his jersey back down so it was covering your stomach again. “Do you want to stop then?”

Bradley went to get up again, but you stopped him once more. “Well, I didn’t say that…” The hint of nervousness mixed with sultry had him settling in between your legs again, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“So what are you saying?” He asked as he ran his index finger along the waistline of your shorts. 

You bit your lip again and he had to hold back a groan. “We could still...you know,” you trail off and whine - you actually whined in a way that had his jeans suddenly feeling a whole lot tighter - when he just raised his brow. “Don’t make me say it, please.”

Bradley huffed out a laugh before simply asking, “Do you want me to go down on you?” 

He could hear the way your breath got caught in your throat, and he guessed you weren’t used to someone being so forward, but you would have to get used to that now that you’re dating him, because he considered himself to be a very forward guy. 

Your thighs twitched a bit, like you were aching to rub them together to create friction. “Um,” you mumbled, scratching the top of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair. “If…you want to.”

Bradley smiled and kissed the inside of your thigh, noticing how it twitched once again. “But what do you want?”

You pressed your lips together again before answering in a quiet tone. “I want you to go down on me,” 

He grinned at the very small fraction of confidence in your tone before he lifted his body and pressed your thighs together, his fingers hooking through your shorts belt loops. You watched with your teeth digging into your lip as Bradley slowly pulled the jean fabric down your legs, and his eyes darkened a bit at the pretty black lace that covered your core. 

After craving you for days on end, Bradley wasn’t in the mood to hold back right now. He leaned back down and pressed his lips to the fabric, kissing your clit through your panties. Your stomach tensed a bit and your breath hitched, and he wondered if Luke had been doing his job in keeping you satisfied with this part of your relationship. 

He assumed you and Luke slept together since you were dating for so long, but the way you were already whimpering for him made Bradley think your ex was pretty shit in bed. 

What a shame, because Bradley was effortlessly getting hard from just the sound of you.

Bradley ran the tip of his nose down the lace, feeling how damp the fabric was before running his tongue along it and making it even more wet. “Bradley,” you moaned his name in the same way you did the first time he got you alone like this on Friday, and it sounded just as hot as it did then. 

You whimpered again and propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes. He met your gaze with a small smirk as he continued to tease you by kissing you through the lace. He licked and sucked until the fabric was soaked from both you and him, and only then did he slowly pull it down your legs and let it drop to the floor beside his bed. 

The sight of your lower half being completely exposed to him had Bradley feeling a little feral, and he couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer. He met your gaze, your eyes full of lust and anticipation, as his mouth met your core, his tongue poking out to taste you. 

He groaned. He actually groaned at the taste of you. He’d been craving to find out how sweet you were when he watched you fall apart on his lap in the front seat, and now he knew. 

Your quiet gasp had him refraining from bucking against the bed, his hands sliding under your thighs as he pressed his face closer to you. “Oh, God,” he heard you whisper and it only fueled him. 

His tongue slipped out and circled your clit, the sensitive nerves throbbing against it. You were already so worked up, he could tell. You were shaking a bit and your hand was tight in his hair as he slowly ran the muscle up and down your folds. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured, feeling the way your body jolted at his words. “So fucking sweet.” 

You draped your legs over his shoulders with the help of his hands, and then you were back to tugging on his hair. “Bradley,” you moaned when he took your clit between his lips and sucked harshly. 

“You like that?” He asked as he pulled away to glance up at you. When you nodded and shifted against the bed, he leaned back down and did it again, wanting to find out all the ways he can make you squirm. He wanted to find out what you liked, what got you off and what makes you get loud. 

With that being said, Bradley could tell you were holding back right now. You were biting harshly on your lip and he could see the way you were tightening your chest. He trailed his hand up your thigh as he pulled his mouth away from you, using his fingers to gather up your wetness. “You’re trying to be quiet,” he observed, pushing just the tip of his index finger through your folds. 

You look down at him with flushed, red cheeks as you press your lips together. “I…”

“Don’t be embarrassed to talk to me, babes,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your hip, leaving behind a wet mark. 

You whimper as he slowly sinks his whole finger into you, and you felt so tight, he wasn’t entirely convinced you’d ever been fully worked open yet. “I’m just not used to...being loud,” you confess, leaning further back on your elbows. “Luke didn’t…he didn’t really…”

Bradley understood what you were saying without you actually needing to finish that sentence, and it was just another reason for him to strongly dislike your ex. “You can be loud with me,” he whispered, beginning to gently fuck his finger into you. “I want you to be.”

The moan you let out at that was just what he’d been wanting to hear, and then you were blushing again. “W-what about your roommates? Eli-”

“They’re not here,” he promised, not wanting to hear another guy’s name come from your mouth when he was currently trying to make you come with his. Hearing Luke’s name was bad enough. “You can be as loud as you want to be, baby.”

Maybe he was trying to get you there with his use of that nickname since you told him how much you love hearing him call you it, and maybe that was cruel, but he couldn’t bring himself to care since you slowly fell back on his pillow and let out a moan that was little louder than your previous ones.

Bradley grinned and leaned back down. “There you go,” he praised and you only whimpered louder. You had a thing for praise, he could tell, and he couldn’t wait to explore that further with you when and if you decide you want to. 

He softly circled your clit with his tongue as he slid his middle finger into your tight walls to join his other one, and you arched your back and clung onto his hair with a firmer grip. “Bradley,” you moaned and closed your eyes as he slowly but surely got you there. “Oh, my God.”

He hummed against your nerves, and the way your body trembled at it gave him the indication that you were close. He continued to tease your clit as he fucked his fingers a bit faster into you, loving the way your thighs jolted with barely-there control. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your swollen clit. “Taste so good.” 

You became a whimpering, whining mess as he fucked you with his tongue alongside his fingers, and your hand tightened on his hair. “Bradley,”

He moaned at the sound of his name falling from your lips, savoring the sweet taste of you. “Are you gonna come?” He asked, glancing up at you as you nodded desperately. 

Bradley had to use his free hand to pin your thigh down as you tried to close your legs, your volume growing with each second that passed. “Fuck,” you gasped, gripping his pillow with the hand that wasn’t currently pulling his hair out.

“Do it,” he coaxed softly, swirling his tongue against you. “Come for me. Let me taste how sweet you are.”

The sound you let out was one that could be found in a porno, and then he felt your release coat his tongue. You lifted your back off the bed as you came, broken whimpers escaping your lips as you gently grinded against his face. “Fuck,” you cried, shaking as he finally pulled away and sat back on his knees. 

Your eyes were wide as you glanced down and noticed how tight his jeans had gotten, and you let out uneven breaths as you gestured to his obvious hard-on. “Do you want…want me to-”

“It’s okay,” Bradley hummed, slowly pulling his fingers out of you and nearly groaning at the wetness coated on them. “You catch your breath, baby, I’ll be fine.”

Then he took his fingers into his mouth and cleaned you off them, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Bradley…”

He smiled as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and traced his bottom lip with his tongue. “Been wanting to do that since Friday night,” he confessed and took in how fucked out you looked; thighs spread, core wet from what he just did to it, your hair messy and his damn jersey on your body. “Damn, baby, if you could see what I see right now…fuck.”

You let out a quiet laugh as he helped you get your lower half dressed again before he moved to lay next to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled your body against his as your hand trailed down the front of his shirt. “You’re kind of stupidly good at that,” you mumble and he grunted with a smile. 

“Am I?” He teased as you looked back down at his less obvious boner. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll go away soon.” It probably wouldn’t. 

You sigh and nod, looking up at him with a small, pretty smile before you are leaning up and kissing him deeply. “Next time, it’s my turn,” you stated and he held back a groan as you kissed him again. 

-

Tuesday was an easy school day for you.

Classes flew by, and before you knew it you were leaving Mr. Clarke’s class at three in the afternoon and heading back to your place. Sam was nowhere to be found and you let out a sigh as you dropped your bag onto the couch and sat next to it. 

You propped your legs up on the coffee table, your mind going back to last night when Bradley got you off with his tongue and fingers. He made it look so easy and had you shaking and whimpering within seconds. It was hard not to compare him to Luke, who had only gone down on you twice in the three years you were together. 

When Bradley pointed out how quiet you were being, you were instantly reminded of all the times Luke would hush you or put his hand over your mouth during sex so only his grunts were heard. Bradley was so different. It was like he could almost get off to the sounds of your moans, while Luke preferred not to hear them. 

Bradley made you feel so good last night, you weren’t sure you had ever felt like that in your entire life. It should concern you, but you were thriving off it, happy that he was the only one who had gotten you off so good. Everything felt amazing with him, so you weren’t entirely surprised he was able to kick off your sex life like that. 

To put it simply, sex had never been a big deal to you in the past, but now you couldn’t fucking wait to do more things with him. 

You quickly became bored and reached for your phone, smiling at the picture of Bradley’s scrunched up face in the picture you set as his contact. 

When’s your class over today? I’m bored :( 

Fratley ❤️❤️: It was over at 1. I’m in town right now, heading back. Milkshakes? ;) 

You groaned at how he easily just released butterflies in your stomach without even being here, and you quickly answered him as you bit down on your lip,

Please. And I need to start paying attention to your class schedule. 

Fratley ❤️❤️: You and me both… be there soon. 

You smiled and leaned back against the couch as you began flipping through random channels on the small TV, missing the bigger one in Bradley’s living room. 

Not long after, there were a couple knocks on the door, and you shifted as you called out, “It’s open,” then Bradley was walking in with two milkshakes in one hand, a bouquet of daisies in the other, and his school bag slung over his shoulder. “Oh, look who’s knocking now.”

Bradley shook his head with an eye roll as he set the shakes down onto the coffee table and handed you the flowers. “I don’t know if you lock your door or not,” he defended himself as he dropped his bag onto the area rug and sat next to you, leaning over to kiss you quickly. 

You smile against his lips and look at the daisies when you pull away. “These are pretty,” 

Bradley gave them a quick glance before grabbing his chocolate shake and leaning back, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Something pretty for my girl,” he answered simply as if it was no big deal, but you were three seconds away from pouncing on him. 

You bring the flowers to your nose before whispering, “I love them,” and nuzzling against his side. “Thank you. And thank you for the shake.”

Bradley hummed as he kissed the top of your head, ditching the paper straw and just sipping the drink right from the cup. “You’re welcome,” 

You sit in silence for a few seconds, and you thought now might be a good time to have the whole ‘sex’ conversation with him. After setting the flowers onto the table next to your milkshake, you lean against his side again and look up at him, watching as he meets your gaze with a smile. “So…about last night,” you began, playing with the buttons on his green flannel that matched the blue one you had on your desk chair. 

Bradley smirked and leaned over to set his drink down before turning back to you. “Yeah?” He teased, reaching over to grab your waist. “You want a second round?” 

You bit your lip and laughed as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck, right on the spot he left a hickey last night. “I wanted to talk about…that,” you murmured and he stopped kissing you pretty quickly, pulling away to look you in the eyes. 

“Did I overstep?” He asked, loosening his grip on your waist. “Were you not ready? I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

You shake your head and move closer to him. “No, it was perfect, and you were perfect,” you assure him and watch as a faint blush formed on his cheeks and the way he leaned back against the couch again. 

“Perfect, huh?”

You nod and move so your legs are draped over his thighs. “I wanted to talk about the whole sex thing,” you muttered, suddenly embarrassed. Was this really necessary? But now Bradley had given you his full attention, and you were quickly learning that it was okay to embarrass yourself in front of him. “Like I said last night, I’m not a virgin, I’ve had sex. Luke was my first and…my only.”

Bradley’s eyes widened at bit at that but he didn’t say anything to make you feel even more embarrassed, so you went on, 

“As you know, we were together for three years, and he only did what you did to me last night twice during our whole relationship,” 

“Twice?” Bradley asked in disbelief, the hand of his arm that was around your shoulder beginning to trace random shapes onto the skin of your bicep. “That’s it?”

You nodded and looked away, wanting to grab your milkshake and press the cool cup against your warm face. “And he and I didn’t really have sex much. You could tell last night that I was holding back, and that was because Luke didn’t like it when I got too loud in bed,” you confessed and looked back at Bradley, seeing the way his brows had furrowed. “And he…told me that he wasn’t really satisfied with our sex life, so that’s why we didn’t do it much.”

Bradley raised his brows and scoffed, looking at the TV before back at you. “You know, I really, really don’t like your ex,” he muttered. “He sounds like a real asshole.”

You shake your head and play with his flannel buttons again. “He wasn’t all that bad…he was good to me, he just wasn’t happy with that part of our relationship,” you shrugged, looking up at his brown eyes. “So, I’m letting you know now that if, after last night, you don’t want to do that again or anything else with me, I totally get it.”

“Babes,” Bradley let out another laugh of disbelief. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days. Just the quick hookup we had in my car was enough to have me craving you in that way, and last night? Baby, last night was amazing. I loved hearing you get loud for me, and I loved touching you and kissing you like that. Of course I want to do it again.”

You blushed and pressed your lips together. “Really?”

“Yeah, baby, really,” he confirmed, gently gripping your chin and kissing you deeply. “I definitely want to feel you come on my tongue again. One hundred percent.” 

Your blush deepens as you bury your face against his neck. “Bradley,”

He laughed, the deep rumble making you hold back a moan. “Listen, I’m not Luke, okay? If you want to get loud, fucking scream for me, baby. The louder the better,” he murmured and you pulled back to look up at him. “And if you want me to go down on you, just say the words and I’ll gladly do it. I’m so into you, Y/n. I’ll take anything I can get.”

His words were everything you didn’t know you needed to hear, and you reached up to caress his face with a lazy smile on your face. “You’re too good to be true,”

Bradley laughed again and looked down. “I guess it’s my turn to talk about my past experiences, too, right?”

You quickly shake your head, “You don’t have to-”

“No, I want to,” he said as he shifted and and trailed his hand up and down your leg. “Here comes that super embarrassing story I mentioned before our second date.”

Your second date - the one at Five Guys, which is ironically where he had gotten the milkshakes you were sipping from now. “The one about your possessive ex who leaves hickeys that look extremely painful?” You teased, poking the faint mark you had left on his throat on Friday. 

Bradley nodded, looking down at you with a small grin. “Yeah, Bri. Her and I went out for almost a year, and she broke up with me because I didn’t put enough effort into our relationship,” he started. “She was probably right, since I’ve taken you out more than I took her out in eleven months.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as you waited for him to go on, a sense of pride filling you from his words. 

“When she broke up with me, which was right after we had sex, by the way, she told me that sex is all I’m good for and that I’m a terrible boyfriend,” he said and now it was your turn to furrow your brows. “She said something about coming back to me just so I can fuck her again, because I’m apparently good in bed, then she went and got with another guy in front of me, in my own house.”

“Jesus, Bradley,” you mumbled as you moved closer to him. “I think I know how you feel about Luke now since I feel the same way about Bri.”

He laughed, shaking his head before burying his face against the side of your neck. “Yeah, we sure know how to pick them, huh?”

You laugh, too, before taking in his words, and a feeling of jealousy slowly creeped into you. “I’m just going to say it now, if she thinks she can come back just so you can fuck her…” You trailed off and he pulled away from your neck with an amused look on his face. “That is not going to happen.”

Bradley hummed and nodded, leaning in to kiss you. “Agreed,” he mumbled against your lips, grabbing your waist afterwards and pulling you onto his lap. “Now come here. I’ve been thinking about you since last night.”