A quiet sea, a steady star and stories carried north.
⋆.˚Welcome to LoversofSteeb.Org.°
Home to the man who carries stars, and the man forged in winter...
Lose not your way beneath the stars⋆.˚
Constellations : all the stories I've written so far
Harbour Lights : taglist
Requests : closed (just for a little while, I'm slow)!!
⋆˚࿔ Recent Works :
⤷ June Jukebox Scribbles ˎˊ˗
₊⊹ Making a bracelet for Roommate!Bucky
₊⊹ Doctor! Doctor! Anything—Please!
₊⊹ Patience is a Virtue
fic recs : bucky barnes // dark!bucky barnes
I do not use AI and don't consent my work (stories/moodboards/headers) to be copied, translated, reposted or be fed into an AI machine. Some of my stories are not suitable for minors, read warnings and do not interact if it's not what you like.
𝐀/𝐍: day 5 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!!!! I'm sorry I'm running late i promise I'll do them all. I don't know what to think about this one, i really needed a longer word count to express myself better lol, i will come back to this later.🫶🏻
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
The first time Rafe saw you, he didn't pay any mind. The second time he did, he noticed your eyes. The third time, he knew your name.
By the fourth time, he wanted you.
Your smile, the sound of your laughter, the moles and marks on your skin, the way your lips move when you say his name.
So he did what any other man would, he talked to you, asked you things he already knew about, praised you.
Asked you to be his.
Then the fifth time came—the first time since he asked you out, the first time since you told him no— and he only had one voice inside his head, the devil whispering in his ear, I'm gonna make her mine.
All mine.
The very same night, he had you sprawled out on his bed, hands cuffed to the headboard, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed and whimpered, begging him to let you go.
Why would he? You're his. And he always takes care of his toys— even when he breaks them, he cares.
He licks a slow, long stripe down your neck, humming at the taste of raw fear on his tongue. His calloused hands roam over your soft skin, the way you kept squirming and writhing underneath him doing nothing but arouse him further.
Pausing just over your mound, he takes a long, tortuous moment just to flash a perfect smile at you. He was about to take what was his, and he would enjoy every. single. fucking. second.
His fingers swipe over your slit, and a shudder passes through your body. You were wet. Embarrassingly so. All because of the man in front of you.
You shut close your eyes, trying to escape, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but each soft circle over your throbbing clit made it harder to do so. Each pathetic mewl that left your swollen lips made you realise one thing.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐀/𝐍: day 5 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!!!! I'm sorry I'm running late i promise I'll do them all. I don't know what to think about this one, i really needed a longer word count to express myself better lol, i will come back to this later.🫶🏻
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
The first time Rafe saw you, he didn't pay any mind. The second time he did, he noticed your eyes. The third time, he knew your name.
By the fourth time, he wanted you.
Your smile, the sound of your laughter, the moles and marks on your skin, the way your lips move when you say his name.
So he did what any other man would, he talked to you, asked you things he already knew about, praised you.
Asked you to be his.
Then the fifth time came—the first time since he asked you out, the first time since you told him no— and he only had one voice inside his head, the devil whispering in his ear, I'm gonna make her mine.
All mine.
The very same night, he had you sprawled out on his bed, hands cuffed to the headboard, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed and whimpered, begging him to let you go.
Why would he? You're his. And he always takes care of his toys— even when he breaks them, he cares.
He licks a slow, long stripe down your neck, humming at the taste of raw fear on his tongue. His calloused hands roam over your soft skin, the way you kept squirming and writhing underneath him doing nothing but arouse him further.
Pausing just over your mound, he takes a long, tortuous moment just to flash a perfect smile at you. He was about to take what was his, and he would enjoy every. single. fucking. second.
His fingers swipe over your slit, and a shudder passes through your body. You were wet. Embarrassingly so. All because of the man in front of you.
You shut close your eyes, trying to escape, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but each soft circle over your throbbing clit made it harder to do so. Each pathetic mewl that left your swollen lips made you realise one thing.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐀/𝐍: day 5 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!!!! I'm sorry I'm running late i promise I'll do them all. I don't know what to think about this one, i really needed a longer word count to express myself better lol, i will come back to this later.🫶🏻
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
The first time Rafe saw you, he didn't pay any mind. The second time he did, he noticed your eyes. The third time, he knew your name.
By the fourth time, he wanted you.
Your smile, the sound of your laughter, the moles and marks on your skin, the way your lips move when you say his name.
So he did what any other man would, he talked to you, asked you things he already knew about, praised you.
Asked you to be his.
Then the fifth time came—the first time since he asked you out, the first time since you told him no— and he only had one voice inside his head, the devil whispering in his ear, I'm gonna make her mine.
All mine.
The very same night, he had you sprawled out on his bed, hands cuffed to the headboard, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed and whimpered, begging him to let you go.
Why would he? You're his. And he always takes care of his toys— even when he breaks them, he cares.
He licks a slow, long stripe down your neck, humming at the taste of raw fear on his tongue. His calloused hands roam over your soft skin, the way you kept squirming and writhing underneath him doing nothing but arouse him further.
Pausing just over your mound, he takes a long, tortuous moment just to flash a perfect smile at you. He was about to take what was his, and he would enjoy every. single. fucking. second.
His fingers swipe over your slit, and a shudder passes through your body. You were wet. Embarrassingly so. All because of the man in front of you.
You shut close your eyes, trying to escape, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but each soft circle over your throbbing clit made it harder to do so. Each pathetic mewl that left your swollen lips made you realise one thing.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐀/𝐍: day 5 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!!!! I'm sorry I'm running late i promise I'll do them all. I don't know what to think about this one, i really needed a longer word count to express myself better lol, i will come back to this later.🫶🏻
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
The first time Rafe saw you, he didn't pay any mind. The second time he did, he noticed your eyes. The third time, he knew your name.
By the fourth time, he wanted you.
Your smile, the sound of your laughter, the moles and marks on your skin, the way your lips move when you say his name.
So he did what any other man would, he talked to you, asked you things he already knew about, praised you.
Asked you to be his.
Then the fifth time came—the first time since he asked you out, the first time since you told him no— and he only had one voice inside his head, the devil whispering in his ear, I'm gonna make her mine.
All mine.
The very same night, he had you sprawled out on his bed, hands cuffed to the headboard, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed and whimpered, begging him to let you go.
Why would he? You're his. And he always takes care of his toys— even when he breaks them, he cares.
He licks a slow, long stripe down your neck, humming at the taste of raw fear on his tongue. His calloused hands roam over your soft skin, the way you kept squirming and writhing underneath him doing nothing but arouse him further.
Pausing just over your mound, he takes a long, tortuous moment just to flash a perfect smile at you. He was about to take what was his, and he would enjoy every. single. fucking. second.
His fingers swipe over your slit, and a shudder passes through your body. You were wet. Embarrassingly so. All because of the man in front of you.
You shut close your eyes, trying to escape, trying to wake up from this nightmare, but each soft circle over your throbbing clit made it harder to do so. Each pathetic mewl that left your swollen lips made you realise one thing.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI, DARK!rafe, cmnf, mirrors, rafe has a major pain kink, biting, rafe making reader feel unsafe( by a burning cigarette) (but doesn't actually hurt her), dacryphyilia.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 341
𝐀/𝐍: day three of June Jukebox Scribbles by @societynsoelsscribbles!!! Living without internet for a day is a struggle. not recommended. 0/10. Also....this is my first rafe fic hahahhaa meet my new crush everyone🤭
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “And he shows them pearly white”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
He looked like a mess—bloody knuckles and bruised skin. But nothing made him feel. Not anymore.
Not the wounds, not the sting of the antiseptic. Not the burn of the whiskey, and not even the smoke filling his lungs.
Nothing but you.
“Look at us, baby. Don't we look so good?” He grabs your jaw to guide your gaze back to the mirror.
The sight in front of you was beautifully wicked. You, naked and spread on Rafe’s lap, and him fully clothed, a cigarette dangling from his bleeding lips, nursing a drink in one hand, the other holding your jaw in a grip that bothered on painful.
He takes a puff, the smoke curling around the both of you. His hand slides down to your throat, feeling the pulse thrumming wildly underneath his fingertips.
"You scared?" He asks.
Your eyes drifted to the lit cigarette, the glowing ember now dangerously close to your thigh. You squirm, trying to get away, but he just chuckles, finding your poor attempt at escape pathetic.
“Rafe, please…”
His eyes lock onto yours through the mirror, and he shows them pearly whites, mocking you without ever saying a single word.
“Please what?”
“It's gonna hurt me,” you whimper, voice broken and desperate.
“Is it? I bet you won’t like that,” his eyes were dark now. He didn't look like himself, lost in whatever world he claims his own.
He moves the cigarette closer to your skin, draping you in a warmth you never asked for. Scared he'd hurt you, you grab his hand in a weak attempt to stop him, hoping this would bring him back to his senses.
This seemed to work, as he huffs out a laugh, before leaning in to place soft pecks to the side of your neck. You barely had time to calm your rushing heart, thankful he shifted his hand away, when a sharp, excruciating pain filled your nerves.
Your screams were muffled by his huge palm, and you could feel his grin against your skin. He pouts as he looks at your pained features through the reflection, the tears streaming down your face, the mark on your neck that screamed his name.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
I was screaming the entire time to put that cigarette away 😭 (Also, this is just my opinion but i won't be pleased to have nosefulls of the cigaratte smoke around me when i just wanna be fucked good 👀)
Gosh this was SCARY!
Veni you should totally write horror someday!!!! You'd kill it!!!
pairing: prince Loki Laufeyson x seamstress reader
synopsis: Loki helps his favorite seamstress relax
warnings: implied sex, power imbalance, implied aftercare, implied relationship start, implied pining, implied end of said pining.
word count: 405
prompt: “A smell of wine and cheap perfume”
song: Don’t Stop Believing - Journey (this was a swap out)
lyrics used: "For a smile, they can share the night." and "a smell of wine and cheap perfume"
lyrics are in green
A/N: Day 6 technically a swap out for today = June Jukebox Scribbles as a heads up this won't follow Asgard anything it's been forever since I've watched the movies and I've read far too much fanfiction since so at last here we are basically going off what I think the Asgard kingdom would be like lol
The soft sound of the crackling fire in the hearth was the only sound in the room as you took measurements for Loki's suit for the upcoming ball. You're silently focused on doing your job while ignoring how Loki is staring at you.
“Your trembling darling is something making you nervous?” That knowing smile irritates you because it makes you smile.
‘For a smile, they can share the night.’
“No my prince, simply a little tired is all” You breathe out which isn't a lie you've been up since early morning making sure all the fabrics have been ordered for his new suit on top of normal responsibilities.
“You should sit down then surely you already have the measurements needed.” Loki's smirk had fallen with your words, his voice losing a teasing tone as concern grew.
“That wouldn't be very appropriate my prince and yes i have your measurements almost memorized but id hate for something to not fit perfectly to your expectations.” You keep your voice quiet and respectful like always the practiced distance that's safe.
“It is appropriate in fact i insist you sit down before you collapse” he says softly as he guides you over to his bed you open your mouth to once again tell him it's not appropriate.
He cuts you off with his lips finding yours. The measuring tape falls from your hands as you kiss back slowly from the surprise.
He pulls back only enough to speak
“Titles don't matter here baby, let me help you relax if you want. There will be no consequences if you don't want this with me.” he holds your stunned gaze so you know that prince or not he wont take whats not given. You take a shaky breath and nod.
“Yes i would love that” your whispered consent was everything to him before you knew it he had you naked sprawled out on his bed ruining you for everyone else.
Hours later your legs tangled in the sheets head on his chest wrapped in his arms the room filled with a smell of wine and cheap perfume from loki making the room smell like you.
“You're mine now, pretty girl~ all mine.” You smile as he kisses the top of your head lovingly.
“All yours my prince as your mine.” you mumble as you press a kiss to his chest. You glance up to see that smile on his face again.
I am so stunned each time I read your writing!!!! the way you put his love, his little nuances, his mischief in words is literally mind blowing!!!!!! Each time I think oh I don't think i like loki anymore, i read you and I'm like okay no I'm in love with him 🤭
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI, DARK!rafe, cmnf, mirrors, rafe has a major pain kink, biting, rafe making reader feel unsafe( by a burning cigarette) (but doesn't actually hurt her), dacryphyilia.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 341
𝐀/𝐍: day three of June Jukebox Scribbles by @societynsoelsscribbles!!! Living without internet for a day is a struggle. not recommended. 0/10. Also....this is my first rafe fic hahahhaa meet my new crush everyone🤭
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “And he shows them pearly white”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
He looked like a mess—bloody knuckles and bruised skin. But nothing made him feel, not anymore. Not the wounds, not the sting of the antiseptic. Not the burn of the whiskey, and not even the smoke filling his lungs.
Nothing but you.
“Look at us, baby. Don't we look so good?” He grabs your jaw to guide your gaze back to the mirror.
The sight in front of you was beautifully wicked. You, naked and spread on Rafe’s lap, and him fully clothed, a cigarette dangling from his bleeding lips, nursing a drink in one hand, the other holding your jaw in a grip that bothered on painful.
Your eyes drifted to the lit cigarette, the glowing ember dangerously close to your thigh. You squirm, trying to get away, but he just chuckles, finding your poor attempt at escape pathetic.
“Rafe, please…”
His eyes lock onto yours through the mirror, and he shows them pearly whites, mocking you without ever saying a single word.
“Please what?”
“It's gonna hurt me,” you whimper, voice broken and desperate.
“Is it? I bet you won’t like that,” his eyes were dark now. He didn't look like himself, lost in whatever world he claims his own.
He moves the cigarette closer to your skin, draping you in a warmth you never asked for. Scared he'd hurt you, you grab his hand in a weak attempt to stop him, hoping this would bring him back to his senses.
This seemed to work, as he huffs out a laugh, before leaning in to place soft pecks to the side of your neck. You barely had time to calm your rushing heart, thankful he shifted his hand away, when a sharp, excruciating pain filled your nerves.
Your screams were muffled by his huge palm, and you could feel his grin against your skin. He pouts as he looks at your pained features through the reflection, the tears streaming down your face, the mark on your neck that screamed his name.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Steve Rogers, the best student in class, knew just the way to help you study.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI. [Pussy slapping, clit play, hes being like that on purpose], name calling.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 374
𝐀/𝐍: day one of June Jukebox Scribbles hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles!!!! Coming in strong with my newly found degradation kink hehe🤭
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “I never understood a single word he said”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Steve Rogers Masterlist
“Say that again, sweetheart.” He purrs against your throat, licking a long stripe up your soft, sweaty skin.
Steve Rogers.
The golden boy with the dark edge. Everyone hated him. But they knew.
Knew he was the best.
"I didn't understand today's lecture..."
"Why? Was Professor Adler not teaching you right?" He asks with casual ease, as if his fingers weren't inching closer and closer to your bare, dripping pussy.
It was a rule— you want him to teach you, you take off your panties. Simple. Just like all things were for him.
“I— I never understood a single word he said,” you whisper, guilt underlining each word, “because... you sent me your picture.”
You could feel his grin on your skin, shameless and proud, “You're so dumb, baby. One picture and all you could think about was my cock. You're such a filthy slut under all that good girl guise, yeah?”
He lands a quick smack to your cunt, the wet sound echoing in his dorm room. You cry out his name, clutching onto his thick forearm as he soothes the stinging burn with his fingers rubbing soft circles on your throbbing clit.
“My poor, dumb baby loses every thought when she's horny for me, right?”
His words made you burn with shame. As much as you prided yourself for being good, Steve always succeeded to bring out this side in you, the damned side you didn't even know existed.
“Now, why don't you go ahead and read your notes?"
You nod, leaning forward to grab the notes he made you write last week, but couldn't possibly read a single word as he pinches your clit between his fingers, chuckling when you yelp in pain, your body writing to get away from his hold.
“Tsk-tsk… don't move around too much, we haven't got all day.”
Another slap to your pussy. This one much sharper than the last, making your pussy drip down his lap, staining the faded denim.
Not that he'd mind wearing the wetness all day long, showing everyone just how perfect he was even when he was a mess.
“Steve! Please….”
“You beg so pretty, sweetheart. Might just let you suck my cock after you get your questions right…”
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
he thinks you’re sooooo cute when you ride him and your legs start to shake and your breath comes out in quick puffs because you’re trying so hard to bounce on his cock and please him
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: car rides with the guy you hate, well, they're not as bad as they seem.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI, enemies with benefits, car sex (is it public or semi public?), handjob (m!receiving), kissing, they're in love but they won't say it .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 385
𝐀/𝐍: day 4 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!! Holy shit guys are you looking at that picture!?!?! Those arms... I want them around my neck🫠🫠
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “But I'm having such a good time”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Steve Rogers Masterlist
The silence was suffocating. Four hours locked together in a small metal box in the middle of nowhere was not for the weak.
“It's not a small fucking metal box. You're sitting in one of the best cars in the country. Twin-turbo V8. Six hundred and fifty horsepower. Hand-stitched leather imported from the valleys of…”
He went on and on and on. About what, You didn’t really know, you zoned out about thirty minutes ago, your thoughts wandering to places it shouldn't really be allowed.
“God! Do you ever shut up?!” You smack the back of his head. “I do not fucking care about your car!”
He stares at you, his lips curled into a scowl. “Ungrateful little bitch…”
This was how most days went with Steve Rogers. You hated him with everything you have, but you wanted him with everything you'll ever be.
The stolen glances and hook ups in closets were good, but you wanted more. As much as you hated admitting it, you wanted him completely and wholly ruined for everyone else.
This thought was what caused your hand to move to his lap, what caused that hand to gently squeeze and stroke the very obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Get your fucking hands off me…” he growls, but the words held no weight. Evident by the way his legs spread open in invitation, one you gladly accepted— making quick work to undo his stubborn zipper.
“But I'm having such a good time. Should've done this when we started...” you say, your tone way too innocent for someone who has a cock in her hands.
“You drive me crazy,” he pulls over the car to the side of the empty road. His hard cock was now throbbing painfully, jumping with each pass of your soft hand.
“I know,” You smile. “So do you.”
Your eyes lock onto his half lidded ones, heavy with lust and something else. Before any of you could think better, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips to his, drowning you in an all-consuming kiss.
The scratchy burn of his beard was addicting. Your lips moving in tandem with the movements of your hand, toying with his cock, thumb pressing down on his sensitive head with each pass.
He moans into your mouth, and you swallow it down like you've been starving for years.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: car rides with the guy you hate, well, they're not as bad as they seem.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI, enemies with benefits, car sex (is it public or semi public?), handjob (m!receiving), kissing, they're in love but they won't say it .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 385
𝐀/𝐍: day 4 of June Jukebox Scribbles!!! Holy shit guys are you looking at that picture!?!?! Those arms... I want them around my neck🫠🫠
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “But I'm having such a good time”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Steve Rogers Masterlist
The silence was suffocating. Four hours locked together in a small metal box in the middle of nowhere was not for the weak.
“It's not a small fucking metal box. You're sitting in one of the best cars in the country. Twin-turbo V8. Six hundred and fifty horsepower. Hand-stitched leather imported from the valleys of…”
He went on and on and on. About what, You didn’t really know, you zoned out about thirty minutes ago, your thoughts wandering to places it shouldn't really be allowed.
“God! Do you ever shut up?!” You smack the back of his head. “I do not fucking care about your car!”
He stares at you, his lips curled into a scowl. “Ungrateful little bitch…”
This was how most days went with Steve Rogers. You hated him with everything you have, but you wanted him with everything you'll ever be.
The stolen glances and hook ups in closets were good, but you wanted more. As much as you hated admitting it, you wanted him completely and wholly ruined for everyone else.
This thought was what caused your hand to move to his lap, what caused that hand to gently squeeze and stroke the very obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Get your fucking hands off me…” he growls, but the words held no weight. Evident by the way his legs spread open in invitation, one you gladly accepted— making quick work to undo his stubborn zipper.
“But I'm having such a good time. Should've done this when we started...” you say, your tone way too innocent for someone who has a cock in her hands.
“You drive me crazy,” he pulls over the car to the side of the empty road. His hard cock was now throbbing painfully, jumping with each pass of your soft hand.
“I know,” You smile. “So do you.”
Your eyes lock onto his half lidded ones, heavy with lust and something else. Before any of you could think better, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips to his, drowning you in an all-consuming kiss.
The scratchy burn of his beard was addicting. Your lips moving in tandem with the movements of your hand, toying with his cock, thumb pressing down on his sensitive head with each pass.
He moans into your mouth, and you swallow it down like you've been starving for years.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+/MDNI, DARK!rafe, cmnf, mirrors, rafe has a major pain kink, biting, rafe making reader feel unsafe( by a burning cigarette) (but doesn't actually hurt her), dacryphyilia.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 341
𝐀/𝐍: day three of June Jukebox Scribbles by @societynsoelsscribbles!!! Living without internet for a day is a struggle. not recommended. 0/10. Also....this is my first rafe fic hahahhaa meet my new crush everyone🤭
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: “And he shows them pearly white”
⤷June Jukebox Masterlist ⤷Rafe Cameron Masterlist
He looked like a mess—bloody knuckles and bruised skin. But nothing made him feel. Not anymore.
Not the wounds, not the sting of the antiseptic. Not the burn of the whiskey, and not even the smoke filling his lungs.
Nothing but you.
“Look at us, baby. Don't we look so good?” He grabs your jaw to guide your gaze back to the mirror.
The sight in front of you was beautifully wicked. You, naked and spread on Rafe’s lap, and him fully clothed, a cigarette dangling from his bleeding lips, nursing a drink in one hand, the other holding your jaw in a grip that bothered on painful.
He takes a puff, the smoke curling around the both of you. His hand slides down to your throat, feeling the pulse thrumming wildly underneath his fingertips.
"You scared?" He asks.
Your eyes drifted to the lit cigarette, the glowing ember now dangerously close to your thigh. You squirm, trying to get away, but he just chuckles, finding your poor attempt at escape pathetic.
“Rafe, please…”
His eyes lock onto yours through the mirror, and he shows them pearly whites, mocking you without ever saying a single word.
“Please what?”
“It's gonna hurt me,” you whimper, voice broken and desperate.
“Is it? I bet you won’t like that,” his eyes were dark now. He didn't look like himself, lost in whatever world he claims his own.
He moves the cigarette closer to your skin, draping you in a warmth you never asked for. Scared he'd hurt you, you grab his hand in a weak attempt to stop him, hoping this would bring him back to his senses.
This seemed to work, as he huffs out a laugh, before leaning in to place soft pecks to the side of your neck. You barely had time to calm your rushing heart, thankful he shifted his hand away, when a sharp, excruciating pain filled your nerves.
Your screams were muffled by his huge palm, and you could feel his grin against your skin. He pouts as he looks at your pained features through the reflection, the tears streaming down your face, the mark on your neck that screamed his name.
𑣲⋆ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, send a letter via a pigeon...or just a reply down below🫶🏻 (i write for ce babes and bocky and now, mr rafe cameron. if you'd like to be tagged for someone specific, please feel free to let me know 🤭🤭)
literally me. I spent the entirety of January and February binge reading rafe at night when I was supposed to sleep. who needs sleep when you have rafe😛
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