me reading the stories i wrote

In the Quiet | Rafe Cameron

♡♡♡♡

Rafe Cameron was not the man you were expecting to fall in love with. In fact, he was the last person on earth who you thought would be able to make you happy. Fortunately, the universe had a funny way of proving people wrong, and boy did it.

You never knew Rafe as a relationship man. You grew up in the same circle as Rafe, a kook and all. He was the guy to sleep with girls, toss them to the side and move on to the next one. Never taking anyone’s feelings into account besides his own, that’s how you remembered him.

The warm sun kisses you golden over your curves, as you giggle at the ocean breeze playing dirty little games with your bikini. You pad through the sand in brownish tan wedges, your string bikini bouncing with every litle step. The top is—well, small if you're being honest. Two tight triangles straining valiantly to cover the impossible. Your cleavage glistens under spf shimmer oil and sheer defiance of gravity, nipples betraying you whenever the wind gets a bit much.

“Raaaaaafe!” you whine, shimmying up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, cheek smushed against his sun-warmed back. “Dude ... I think my tits popped out again.”

He glances down, jaw ticking. “Again?”

You twirl around, one tit rebelliously spilling out. “I swear this top shrank. It wasn’t this small in the hotel room.”

His hand snakes out, cups the bouncing escapee, squeezing appreciatively. “Maybe your tits grew .. They do that when you’re horny, right?”

meeting nerd!rafe for the first time ₊˚ෆ

rafe was a nervous wreck. you and him had been partnered up because your teacher thought he would be a great tutor for you, as you were way behind on your maths. you two hadn't really talked before the first tutor session, just the occasional smile or hi when passing each other.

the first tutor session had held place in the schools library. rafe had arrived early to mentally prepare himself. he had always thought you were pretty, but god, when you had arrived a few minutes after him and was sat directly in front of him, he thought he was going to explode.

he had everything prepared. his laptop opened in front of him, helpful tabs already opened, his notebook next to him, and even an extra pen for you incase you had forgotten.

when you sat down, you gave him a little smile and a soft "hello" as you gathered your things.

"hi... so ugh- what did you need help with exactly?" he questioned. he didn't understand why you needed help. you were always present in class, always writing notes... why did you need extra help?

"oh just little things like converting fraction to percentages and what not." you say with a little shrug, flicking open your notebook.

the two of you ease your way into the subject, because rafe doesn't want you to feel bad about not being confident in this subject. his voice is low and smooth like honey as he tries to explain the maths equations in the easiest way possible.

when he sometimes goes into some rabbit hole about whatever is on his mind, he expects you to just ignore him and not really pay attention to a word he's saying. but you're different. you nod along to what he's saying, put everything down and just look at him. like really look at him. and when he notices? he acts like its the first time that's ever happened to him, because maybe it is.

and if he makes a joke? you laugh. not some fake breath of a laugh. its the type of laugh that reaches your eyes and makes you shoulders shake. and the sight of you laugh at something he had said makes his heart skip a beat.

by the time the session is up, he can't help but already be thinking of the next time you two will meet.

                                          ──── ୨୧ ────      

authors note .ᐟ this is kind of messy so please don't mind that!

!! thinking about…

needy rafe. the kind of needy that’s not cute, it’s desperate. humiliating. hard just from your perfume. flushed when you say his name. already leaking by the time your fingers brush his zipper.

he can’t help it. can’t control it. he whines when you leave the bed. fidgets when you don’t kiss him right away. he humps the pillow when you’re not around, face buried in your shirt, cock grinding against soft fabric like a dog in heat.

rafe cameron x reader — 1,4k words

you didn’t expect Rafe at the hospital.

It was nine months of watching him unravel. One minute he was promising he’d get clean, swearing he’d be there, asking if you wanted the baby to have his last name, the next minute he was gone for days and when he came back it was with trembling hands and pupils blown wide. He’d punch walls, accuse you of cheating, say things like “You did this on purpose just to trap me.” Then, an hour later he’d be crying into your stomach, whispering apologies to the baby.

So no, you didn’t expect him at the hospital.

But the day after you gave birth, he walked in.

Just walked in like he hadn’t missed the entire labor, like he hadn’t disappeared for the last three weeks, like he hadn’t screamed at you the last time you spoke, telling you that maybe he wasn’t meant to be a father at all.

He looked... like someone who had scared the shit out of himself. Face pale, his eyes bounced around the room before finally landing on the tiny bundle in your arms.

“I—” he started, then stopped, his jaw flexing.

You didn’t say anything, if he wanted to speak, he could find the fucking words.

His fingers dragged down his face before he took a breath and stepped closer.

“Is that him?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

Rafe blinked a few times, nodding too much. “Okay. Yeah. He’s, uh… he’s small.”

“He’s a newborn.”

“Right,” he mumbled, eyes darting away again. “Right.”

You shifted a little in the hospital bed and tilted the baby up, just enough so his face was visible, his soft little cheeks, a pink nose, eyes still squeezed shut looking way too much like Rafe in his baby pics

“He has your mouth,” you didn’t know why you said it, probably because it was true… or maybe because some part of you needed Rafe to notice it

Rafe stared… just stared.

You watched him try to figure out where he fit into the picture (if he even did.)

He finally broke the silence. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“No,” you said. “Not yet.”

“Will he?”

You looked at him, standing in a hospital room like it was a courtroom, and he was waiting for a verdict.

“That’s up to you,”

Rafe nodded again, then scrubbed a hand over his mouth, pacing a short path along the foot of your bed. “I—I didn’t know if I should come. I thought maybe you’d tell me to screw off or call security or something.”

“I thought about it.”

That made him pause.

“Do you wanna hold him?” you asked.

For a second, you swore he almost shook his head, but then he nodded slowly and stepped closer. You adjusted the baby gently, motioning with your hand for Rafe to sit in the chair beside the bed. He looked like he was about to pass out.

You leaned over and placed the baby in his arms, carefully guiding his hands into the right position.

Rafe's entire body tensed as he stared down at the tiny weight in his arms, he looked terrified, like the baby might explode if he breathed wrong.

the baby didn’t cry, he just wriggled a little, then settled, tiny fist pressed against Rafe’s chest.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered.

You looked at him, heart clenched.

“No one does at first.”

His arms relaxed a fraction, one finger brushed against the baby’s cheek, it was so gentle you almost didn’t believe it came from him.

Rafe Cameron, who’d threatened people, killed people, broken things, broken you. Sitting here with his son in his arms, silent and still.

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until you went to adjust the hospital blanket around your waist.

“I was high the night you went into labor,” he said suddenly, his voice hoarse. “I was in some house... didn’t even know whose. I think it was Topper’s cousin’s… uncle's or something. Someone gave me something stronger, i don’t even remember saying yes, i just... woke up on the bathroom floor and couldn’t feel my legs. thought i was fucking dying.”

Your stomach twisted, you should’ve known. well, maybe you did know.

“I wanted to be there,” he went on, his eyes still locked on the baby. “Swear to God, I did. I just… I don't know. can't bring my head to work right”

You leaned back against the pillows, tired in a way that had nothing to do with your body

“You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe, but you do have to be present.”

The baby stirred in his arms, letting out a soft sound, more a breath than a cry, but it made Rafe freeze all over again.

“What—what do I do?”

“He’s fine,” you said gently. “Just hold him like you’re doing.”

“I’m gonna drop him,” Rafe muttered.

“You won’t drop him.”

He looked up at you, and it was that same look you’d seen when he was seventeen, and his dad first punched him in front of you. The same disbelief, helpless, bitter confusion.

And suddenly, you remembered that saying you always thought ridiculous “hurt people hurt people.”

You watched him press his cheek to the baby’s head, eyes squeezed shut, and you didn’t know if it was a prayer or a breakdown.

The next morning, he was still there, he hadn’t slept a single minute

The nurse came in and raised an eyebrow at you, and you said, “It’s okay. He’s the dad.”

It felt strange saying that, because the word dad had always sounded too big for Rafe, too adult. but in that moment, when he turned to you with tired eyes and asked, “Can I try feeding him this time?” it didn’t sound that impossible.

But he was still Rafe Cameron. He disappeared again three days later.

he’d kissed your forehead, kissed the baby’s head too and said he just needed an hour.

An hour turned into five, five turned into a night, your messages stayed on “delivered.”

You sat in the dark at 3 a.m. feeding the baby alone.

Of course, of course he left, of course he couldn’t handle it. You were an idiot to believe even for a second that maybe something had changed.

just as the sky was turning from black to blue, there was banging on your door.

You opened it in a panic, heart in your throat, and there he was.

Bloody lip, split knuckle, eyes wild.

“Someone tried to sell me something tonight,” he said breathlessly, stumbling inside. “I almost said yes.. almost, but i didn’t. I didn’t, okay? i - i got in a fight instead, I ran, i - i remembered what he felt like in my arms… I remembered his face, your face, and i ran.”

You stared at him, soaked in sweat and crying in a way that didn’t make a sound.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, falling to his knees right there in your doorway.

“I’m trying.”

“I’m trying.”

“I swear I’m trying.”

wrote this one at work, still haven't decided if i like it or not and i also had no idea how to end this 😭 i was thinking about my obx dr and i just felt the need to write abt it

ALSO, I LOVE S1 RAFE SO MUCH, HE’S SUCH A LOSER

sweet sweet angst with a sprinkle of hope </3

let me in, baby

rafe never told you what he was thinking. not until he’d had it bottled up for so long that he can’t take it any more and lashes out on you. that’s when it all comes out.

he thinks it’s ’soft’ to share how he’s feeling, he tells you that there’s nothing he needs to share every time you ask.

this time, you were determined to get him to talk. all you want is to help him, to make him feel better. he’s so damn tense all the time, you just wish you could help him relax.

you’re snuggled into his side on the sofa, his arm wrapped around you and his fingers softly stroking your lower back.

the sound of the rain outside makes you feel all warm inside. cuddled on the sofa with the love of your life watching a movie while it rains outside. it’s like something out of a movie. you feel safe and content. maybe rafe does too.

you lift your hand up to stroke his cheek, he drops his head to rest against yours. the weight is comforting.

“baby…” you speak up, your quiet voice cutting through the calm atmosphere. he hums in response and presses a kiss against the top of your head.

you lift your head to look at him and he pulls you into his lap so you’re sitting sideways with your back against the arm out the couch. his hands drop to your thighs as he squeezes them gently.

“talk to me, rafe…” you start, your hand finding his and holding it firmly. you can visibly see him tense up again, immediately feeling bad for ruining the moment he probably felt relaxed in.

“i don’t need to talk…” he tells you, his voice monotone and his jaw clenching. you purse your lips, trying to think of a way to get something out of him.

“tell me what’s going on in your head, baby…” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. you lift your free hand and run your fingers through his hair. “please…” he exhales deeply.

“too much…” he responds blankly, trying to sound casual.

“can you tell me at least one thought? i want to help you…” you urge, keeping your voice soft. he shakes his head as his gaze falls to his hands that are resting on your lap.

“it’s stupid.” he mutters, his shoulders hunching forward.

he’s always trying to looks strong, since he was young. it’s become easy for him, something he does without even thinking. but when it comes to you, that’s when it gets harder to put up the front.

you’re so gentle and soft. he has to put all of his energy into not letting his walls crumble. it’s hard when you’re so sweet.

“i just have a lot on my plate, okay?” he mumbles, his hand stroking your thigh. he avoids your eye contact like it’s the plague.

if he sees the worry on your pretty face, he’ll crumble.

“just-” the vulnerability in his own voice scares him. he hates that you have this effect on him. “it’s… i have so many responsibilities. like- all of a sudden, they’re just dumped on me.” he murmurs, his eyes finally meeting yours.

you hold the eye contact, silently telling him to continue. so he does.

“i feel alone. i know that you’re here for me… and i appreciate you so much.” he sighs, his hand tightening around yours. “i just- i had no choice but do all this shit by myself. i feel like i was just dumped.” his voice trembles, his eyes stinging with salty tears as the lump in his throat grows.

you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him tightly. he lets out a choked cry, burying his face in your chest. his hands anchor themselves to your shirt, fingers digging into the material.

his body wracks with sobs, warm tears soaking your bare skin. he nuzzles into you further, he hates that he’s falling apart like this but he can’t help it. you hold his head against you, pressing occasional kisses against his hair.

you slowly move to lay down. you pull rafe down on top of you by his bicep, feeling his body collapse against you. his head finds its spot tucked into your chest, his hands settling on your sides.

his sobs soon subside, his body slowly relaxing into you. his breathing slows as his eyes droop. you wipe his face and eyes free of tears, giving him a small smile.

“that was brave…” you whisper, thumb lingering under his eye as he looks up at you.

“i feel like a pussy…” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against your skin.

“you’re not… telling someone how you’re feeling, is like one of the strongest things you can do…” you reassure him.

he doesn’t respond, he doesn’t need to. the look in his eyes is enough to show you that he’s thankful.

you can finally see the glimmer of emotion you’ve been looking for since you met him.

Us and Them (zombie au): bonus chapter

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader who catches him jerking off ✿ 928 words

cw: NSFW 18+, zombie apocalypse and all associated warnings, swimming in a pond, Rafe POV, masturbation (m)

rafe cameron masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

It’s safe to say that Rafe Cameron is decidedly not a fan of the heat. Even despite growing up amongst the choppy waters and sandy shores of Figure 8, summer had always been his least favorite season. The heat made him feel sick, the sun made him turn as red as a tomato, and he remembers all of the social events he used to dread. He’d drown himself in alcohol and coke, wedging himself along the wall by a vent. 

Now, though, he’s left to drown in his own sweat, stewing in his misery. 

“It’s fucking hot.” Your complaint comes with a groan, your body strewn across the couch in the farmhouse. Rafe tries not to look at the skin of your legs for too long where they stick off the arm of the couch, your feet kicking lazily.

He lets his head tilt back, beads of sweat trailing down the skin of his neck as he does. His throat bobs as he swallows, and then he clears it. “Too fuckin’ hot.”

warnings: mentions of nude photos and videos, teasing, flirty banter, slight guilt, masturbation, suggestive ending

a/n: read more about nerd!rafe and bitchy!pogue!reader here !

rafe shook his head when he saw the glossy pink casing of your macbook staring back at him from the desk in the corner of his room, his phone buzzing just as he was about to send you a lengthy message about forgetting your laptop at his place for the thousandth time.

[3:57 PM] ♡ y/n : pls tell me i left my computer at your place, i was leaving the club this morning at like 3AM and couldn’t find it in my bag…

rafe sighed at your text. of course you’d be leaving the club at an outrageous hour.

[4:00 PM] Rafe Cameron : Yes, it’s here. Please remember you can’t be forgetting it all of the time, how are you supposed to do homework when you don’t have your laptop at home?

you rolled your eyes as you read over his message. ugh, he was always on your case about getting your assignments done and turned in on time.

[4:03 PM] ♡ y/n : whatever. i actually already finished everything i had to do but if you could please proofread an essay for me i’ll love you forever. i’m on my way over.

rafe steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and walking through to the bedroom. he glances over at you on the bed, seeing you’re distracted by your phone and then looks at himself in the mirror.

he fixes his wet hair, pushing it out of his eyes and catches a glimpse of his bicep glistening with the water droplets on his skin.

he flexes his bicep, smirking when he sees that they’ve gotten bigger since he started working out again.

he had started working out again only recently, literally only because he wanted you to look twice at him. not that you already don’t, he just wanted a little extra attention.

you pretend you don’t see him do this and make a mental note to mention how big his biceps look later on.

you were in the kitchen, making dinner when rafe comes in and sits at the island, his arms folding across his chest as he leans back and watches you.

you look up at him and smile, looking down at his arms then raising your eyebrows as if you’re shocked.

“your biceps look huge, baby…” you casually tell him, focusing your attention back on the food. his face lights up and he sits up straight.

“you think so?” he flexes them a little and looks down at them, a proud smile on his face. “i saw them earlier but i thought i was maybe just being delusional…” he murmurs thoughtfully, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrates on his arms.

“no i think they look real good…” you nod, giving him a quick wink. his head drops down and he’s a blushing mess, scrubbing a hand over his flushed face.

for the rest of the night you make sure to let him see you glancing at them. you even place a few kisses on them when he wraps his arm around you when you guys settle in bed for the night.

he actually almost lets out a giggle when he feels you kiss his arm, so happy that his woman appreciates the work that he’s secretly doing for her.

his heart skips a beat at every glance or compliment and he nearly melts when he feels your lips press against his skin.

i would chomp on them if i had a chance

a/n: based on this request! 💌

cw: car accident (minor injuries), blood mention (nothing graphic)

summary: After a terrifying car accident, Rafe throws himself into protecting you—panicked, shaken, and completely undone by the thought of losing you. In the aftermath, he finally admits the truth he’s been trying to ignore: this isn’t just a crush. He’s completely in love with you.

⸻

The whole night had felt weird.

Something off in the air. Something sitting too heavy in your stomach.

You and Rafe were just supposed to drive home from Topper’s place. Simple. Easy. Barely a ten-minute trip. Rafe even offered to drive your car, insisting, “You’ve been drinking. Barely, but still. I’ve got you.”

And you always let him take care of you. That was just how it worked.

You didn’t expect the truck to run the stop sign.

Didn’t expect the screech, the metal, the impact.

Didn’t expect your body to jolt sideways, head slamming into the window, Rafe’s arm flying out across your chest like it could hold you in place.

It was fast. Loud. Terrifying.

And then everything was quiet.

⸻

You’re the one who speaks first.

“…Rafe?”

He jerks toward you so fast his neck cracks. “I’m fine. Are you—” His eyes sweep over you. “You’re bleeding.”

Your hand trembles as you reach for your temple. Your fingers come back red.

“I think I hit my head,” you whisper.

Rafe’s already halfway out the driver’s side, yanking open your door, hands on you immediately.

“You’re okay,” he says, voice shaking. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

You’re dizzy. The world tilts. But he’s holding you—hands on your face, arm around your back, forehead nearly touching yours.

“I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ve always got you.”

And then, to himself, almost too quiet to hear:

“Fuck. I could’ve lost you.”

⸻

The police come. An ambulance. People talking too loud, flashing lights painting the trees. You sit on the back bumper of the ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders while a paramedic checks your head.

Rafe’s never more than a foot away.

He keeps pacing, scrubbing a hand down his face, hair wild from tugging at it. He’s got a tiny cut on his cheek, but you don’t think he’s even noticed.

“You need to let them look at you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His voice cracks. “You could’ve died.”

You blink.

He’s never said it like that before. Never even come close to sounding like this.

“Rafe—”

He finally stops pacing and just looks at you. And it’s awful. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed and so full of something you can’t name that it physically hurts to look at him.

“I can’t—” He swallows hard. “I can’t do this again.”

You frown. “Do what?”

“Watch someone I love get hurt and not be able to stop it.”

Your heart stutters.

“I was two seconds away from losing you,” he says. “And all I could think was—shit, this is it. I’ll never get to tell her. She’ll never know.”

You stare at him, frozen.

“Know what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He closes the distance in one step.

“That I love you,” he says. “Not like a friend. Not like a crush. I love you.”

The words hit you like a second collision.

You just blink at him, wide-eyed, mouth open but no sound coming out.

Rafe scrubs his hands over his face, pacing again.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that. Not like—shit. I wasn’t gonna tell you like this. I just…” He trails off, breathing hard. “You were bleeding. I couldn’t—God, I couldn’t breathe.”

Your throat tightens.

“I’ve felt this way for a long time,” he says, voice softer now. “I was just scared to mess it up.”

“Rafe—”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “But tonight made me realize—I’d rather ruin it all than spend one more second pretending it’s not real.”

You stand slowly. Dizzy, aching, but steady enough.

You walk over to him, heart hammering. He’s standing in the glow of the ambulance lights, looking like he’s waiting to be punched.

Instead, you take his face in your hands.

“You should’ve told me,” you whisper.

“I know.”

“I’ve been in love with you since Christmas… God probably even before that.. but that’s when I realized it…”

His breath catches.

You laugh, watery and broken. “You were wearing that stupid red beanie and grinning like a dumbass and I just… knew.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. Like you’re the most important thing on the planet.

And then he leans in.

And you meet him halfway.

The kiss is slow. Careful. A little shaky.

But it’s also the most real thing that’s ever happened to you.

⸻

Later, after the medics check him out and you get cleared to go home, he drives you back to your house in silence.

You’re curled into the passenger seat, wearing his hoodie now. Still a little dazed. Still a little in shock.

He reaches over and grabs your hand, threading your fingers together.

“I didn’t know what to do when I saw the blood,” he says quietly. “I thought I was gonna throw up.”

You squeeze his hand. “But you didn’t.”

He glances at you. “I love you,” he says again, like he’s reminding himself it wasn’t just a panic-fueled blur.

You squeeze his hand tighter. “I know. I love you too.”

His thumb brushes your knuckles. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Right back at you.”

You both laugh—quiet, breathy, full of relief.

And just like that, the fear starts to fade.

Not all at once.

But enough.

Because he’s here.

And you’re his.

And you both know it now.

a/n: ahh idk how i feel about this one 😭 i feel like i’m a little rusty when it comes to writing situational angst instead of my usual emotional spiral type lmao but i really wanted to do this request justice!! thank you sm for sending it in, and i hope you enjoy this protective, panicked, in-love bsf!rafe 🫶🏻

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@psychicnatural @superlegend216 @rafesbabygirlx @raineshua @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @angelofcigs @tiaajosephin

Summary: You are a casino girl at the country club Rafe owns. He’s obsessed with you and can’t wait to get you alone. Loves how nervous you get when it’s just the two of you.

word count: 2.9k

cw: 18+ , run if the mill smut, maybe a little primal play? like very little, afab reader as always

the buildup is soooo perfect 🥹

suctions and sanctions

pairing. roommate! mattheo riddle x reader

content/mdni. fem!reader, roommates!au, flirty!mattheo, gymrat!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, kinda soft!mattheo, dom!mattheo, caring!mattheo, a bit of subspace (?), dildo-fucking/toy usage, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight spanking, shower sex (but the shower is not on), wall fucking, cum play/kink, tummy bulging, slight size kink, teasing, degradation, praise, dirty talk, name-calling (sweetheart, darling, pretty girl, but also slut, cumslut, cockslut), raw sex, thoatpie, creampie

word count. 4.4k

a/n. i am down bad for roommate!mattheo! i love him, he is very versatile! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

“ah, perfect timing! i was just done in the bathroom.”

your joyous voice chirped the moment mattheo entered your shared apartment, the honeyed words hitting his partly-covered ears — his headphones were dragged immediately down around his neck — and making him smile involuntarily.

his grin grew in intensity when he saw the state you were in: indeed, you’ve just got out of the shower, as you were only wearing a towel around your damp body.

the towel, one of his favorite outfits of yours, was draped nicely around your naked form, secured by a tiny corner tucked in between your boobs.

you had a lot of fate in that flimsy corner, huh?

holy fucking shit what was that?!?!?