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@rafecswhore

requests are open / fractured tides discontinued

“guilt looks ugly on you, baby” - rafe cameron x bambi! reader

a/n: inspired by this (@rafesangelita)

rafe started acting like you were made of spun sugar.

he held the door open for you like he was afraid the handle might bite you. carried every bag, even the light ones. didn’t let you touch the stove, didn’t let you lift a single grocery, didn’t let you walk on the side of the street closest to traffic.

he’d check the locks three times before bed. asked if you were cold every five minutes. bought your favorite snacks even when you hadn’t asked for them. stocked up on tampons like you were housing a small army.

at first, it made your chest ache. then it started making you sad.

because he still thought you were mad at him.

but you weren’t. not really.

you’d forgiven him the second he held you that night, all shaky breath and mumbled “i’m sorry”s into your neck like they could stitch everything back together.

but rafe couldn’t forgive himself.

so he kept doing things. trying to fill the silence between you with gestures, with “are you okay?” and “do you need anything?” and “i’ll handle it, baby, just sit.”

and you’d just smile. nod. kiss his cheek softly.

because there wasn’t anything left to say.

one afternoon, he came home with flowers.

big ones. pink and yellow and too loud for the quiet week you’d been having.

you were curled up on the couch in your hoodie, reruns of gilmore girls humming in the background.

he held them out to you, almost sheepish. “for you.”

you looked up, eyes soft. “again?”

rafe blinked. “you don’t like them?”

you shook your head gently, taking them from his hands and placing them on the coffee table. “i love them. but you don’t have to keep making up for something i already let go of.”

he stood there awkwardly, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“i know,” he muttered. “i just… keep thinking about how your face looked that day.”

you reached out, tugging his hand until he sat beside you. your legs draped over his lap, cheek resting against his shoulder. he smelled like outside, warm and windblown.

“you’ve been sweet every day since,” you whispered. “you don’t need to punish yourself forever, rafe.”

his fingers curled around your thigh gently, his other hand brushing your knee like it helped him believe you were still here. “i just want to be better.”

you tilted your head to look at him, brushing his hair back from his face. “you already are.”

his throat bobbed, lashes fluttering as he looked down.

you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“but if you really wanna make it up to me,” you smirked softly, “you’ll give me your hoodie and let me pick the movie tonight.”

that made him laugh—finally. and it was soft, real, the kind that cracked open the quiet and let some light in.

“done,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “i’ll even make the popcorn.”

that’s just the way life goes - finale warnings: angst, dad!rafe, tension, unresolved emotions, emotional release, second chances pairing: dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader wc: 2.5k

the house was quiet again. not the kind of quiet that felt peaceful, but the kind that settled deep in your bones, pressing against your ribs like a weight you couldn’t shake.

you stood in the kitchen, staring at the empty chairs at the table, at the spot where your daughter had sat just moments ago, spilling her heart out in a way neither of you had been prepared for.

rafe was still there, leaning against the counter, watching you like he was waiting for something.

waiting for you to say something.

waiting for you to decide.

but that was the problem—you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know what to decide.

you rubbed a hand over your face, exhaling slowly. "she shouldn’t have to worry about this."

"i know," rafe murmured. "that’s on me."

you looked up at him then, brows furrowing. "it’s not just on you, rafe."

his jaw tightened, something flashing across his face. guilt, maybe. regret. "yeah, it is," he said. "because i was the one who left."

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than anything else.

he never said it out loud—not like that.

you swallowed hard, crossing your arms over your chest. "i never wanted you to go."

rafe let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "could’ve fooled me."

your stomach twisted. "that’s not fair."

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, sharp and tired all at once. "isn’t it?"

"no," you snapped, stepping closer. "you think i wanted any of this? you think i wanted to raise her alone, to have to be the one holding it together every time she asked where you were?"

rafe’s face fell, like your words physically hit him.

"i didn’t push you away," you whispered, voice shaking. "you walked."

his throat bobbed, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

then—"i know."

the admission knocked the air out of your lungs.

he took a slow step forward, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. "i was a coward, y/n. i fucked up, and instead of fixing it, i ran."

your fingers curled into your palms. "why?"

"because i was scared," he admitted, voice breaking just slightly. "because i didn’t know how to be the man you deserved. the dad she deserved. and instead of trying, instead of staying and figuring it out, i left."

you let out a shaky breath, looking away. "and now?"

"now, i know that was the worst mistake of my life."

your chest ached. because you believed him. you always did. but belief didn’t erase the past.

he took another step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, close enough that if you just reached out, you could touch him.

but you didn’t.

"i know i can’t fix what i did," he said, low and steady. "i know i can’t take back all the times i let you down. but i can do better now. i can be better now."

you shook your head, eyes stinging. "rafe, i don’t know if that’s enough."

he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "then tell me what is," he pleaded. "tell me what i have to do, y/n, because i swear to god, i’ll do it."

"i don’t want promises," you whispered. "i want proof."

rafe nodded, his jaw clenching. "then let me prove it."

you studied him, searching for any sign of hesitation, for anything that told you this was just another moment that would fade away like all the others.

but it wasn’t.

his eyes—stormy, intense, filled with something raw and real—held yours without wavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you felt the wall you had built start to crack.

"this isn’t just about us," you said, voice steadier now. "this is about her."

"i know."

"and if you do this, if you really want to be here, you can’t just leave again when it gets hard."

"i won’t," he swore.

you exhaled, heart pounding. "then stay."

rafe’s breath caught.

"stay, rafe," you repeated, softer this time. "prove it."

his lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it, like maybe he had already prepared himself for you to tell him to go.

but you didn’t.

because maybe—just maybe—you weren’t ready to let him go either.

his shoulders relaxed, something shifting in his face, and for the first time that night, a small, broken smile tugged at his lips.

"okay," he murmured. "i’ll stay."

and maybe this time, he really would.

Anonymous asked:

Why the fuck do you have a racist, misogynistic, antisemitic predatory Kanye West even pictured on your blog?

Let’s clear this up. I used that picture purely for the aesthetic, which is clearly visible. Nowhere in my fanfic do I mention Kanye or reference his behavior. It’s just an image for my blog’s layout. Do I support him? No. But let’s be real—plenty of your favorite bloggers use images of people who are just as problematic, purely for visual purposes. It’s about the appearance, not endorsement. So if you don’t like it, don’t look. Simple as that.

that’s just the way life goes - part 5

warnings: angst, dad!rafe, tension, unresolved emotions, cursing, slight emotional hurt/comfort pairing: dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader

the house was too quiet after your daughter went back to bed, but the weight of the conversation still lingered in the air like a storm that never fully passed. you stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at the empty space where she had just been, and rafe… rafe was still there.

watching. waiting.

"we need to figure this out," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, like saying it too loud would shatter whatever fragile understanding had just settled between you two.

rafe nodded, his jaw tensing. "yeah. we do."

silence stretched between you again, thick and suffocating.

"but what does that even mean?" you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. "because, rafe, i don't know how to do this. i don't know how to act like everything is fine just because you suddenly decided you're ready now."

he exhaled, running a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. "i'm not asking you to pretend everything is fine, y/n. i know it’s not. i just—" he huffed, shaking his head. "i just want to be in her life without feeling like i’m walking on eggshells around you all the time."

your lips pressed into a thin line. you hated how easily he could get under your skin, how one sentence could make your chest ache with all the years you tried to push down.

"you think this is just about me?" you scoffed. "you think i want it to be like this? like i don’t wish things were easier, rafe? that i don’t wish i could just let it all go and pretend like we’re not carrying all this history around with us?"

his eyes darkened, something unreadable passing through them. "then why don’t you?"

you swallowed hard. "because it’s not that simple."

rafe stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. "it could be."

your breath hitched, and you hated the way your body reacted before your brain could catch up. the way your heart stuttered, the way your skin burned under the weight of his stare.

"rafe…" you warned, but it came out weaker than you intended.

his lips twitched, just slightly, like he caught it—like he knew.

"tell me you don’t still feel it," he said, voice lower now, rougher. "tell me you don’t look at me and still feel everything."

you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. "you don’t get to do this."

"do what?"

"this," you gestured between you, frustration bubbling to the surface. "make this harder than it already is. make me second guess everything when i’ve spent years trying to move past it."

his eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might back down. but then—

"you never moved past it," he said, quiet but firm. "you just buried it."

your stomach twisted because he was right. and you hated him for that, too.

before you could respond, he sighed, stepping back, dragging a hand down his face. "look," he muttered, "i don’t want to fight. i just… i want us to try. not for us, but for her. because she deserves better than this."

you swallowed the lump in your throat. "and what if trying just makes it worse?"

rafe met your eyes again, softer this time, the fire in him settling into something quieter. "then we figure it out. like we always do."

your chest ached.

because once upon a time, that was true. you and rafe were reckless, messy, and complicated, but you always found your way back. until you didn’t.

but now? now, you weren’t so sure.

"i don’t know if i can do this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

he exhaled, nodding slowly like he was expecting that answer. "then let me prove it to you," he murmured. "let me prove i won’t fuck this up again."

you didn’t say anything.

because you weren’t ready to believe him.

but you weren’t ready to let him go, either.

so you just turned away, bracing your hands against the counter as you tried to steady yourself.

"goodnight, rafe," you murmured, not looking at him.

a beat of silence. then—

"goodnight, y/n."

his footsteps faded down the hall, and when the front door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself wonder…

what if?

Anonymous asked:

More of “that's just the way life goes” pls! Its so good

THATS JUST THE WAY LIFE GOES - part 4 warnings: angst, dad!rafe (cuz some of yall pressed as fuck), tension, unresolved emotions, cursing, slight emotional hurt/comfort pairing: dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader wc: 1.8k

the air still felt heavy, thick with something unspoken, as you lingered on the porch. the quiet of the evening settled around you, the distant hum of cicadas the only thing filling the silence rafe left behind when he stepped inside.

you exhaled, pressing your hands to the railing, grounding yourself. the moment had been too much, too close—like standing on the edge of something you weren’t ready to fall into.

but he made it so fucking hard to keep that distance.

you closed your eyes for a second, willing yourself to push it away before following him inside.

the house was dimly lit, the soft glow of the hallway light stretching into the open living room. you could hear their voices—muffled but warm, familiar in a way that ached if you thought about it too much.

peering down the hall, you saw them.

your daughter was already curled under her blankets, her solar system notebook still clutched in her hands, even as her eyes fought to stay open. rafe sat beside her on the bed, leaning back on one arm, his voice low as he read whatever passage she’d picked for him to go through.

he always did that. even when she was little, when she’d beg for just “one more page” and you’d insist she needed to sleep, rafe would give in. he’d sit there, reading in that smooth, steady voice of his, until her breathing evened out and the book slipped from her hands.

he was always a good dad. even when things between the two of you crumbled, even when the history got too messy, that had never changed.

you sighed quietly, stepping away from the doorway and heading toward the kitchen, giving them their moment.

a few minutes later, you heard rafe’s footsteps behind you.

“she’s out,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the counter. “didn’t even finish her page before she knocked out.”

you hummed, focusing on rinsing the empty glasses from earlier, pretending that him standing there—looking so fucking at home in your kitchen—didn’t send a rush of something complicated through you.

rafe exhaled, watching you for a moment before he spoke again. “do you really think it’s confusing for her?”

you tensed.

“you know she’s not a kid anymore, y/n,” he continued, voice measured. “she gets it. more than you think.”

you set the glass down a little harder than necessary, turning to face him. “yeah, rafe. she gets it. she gets that you weren’t around for years. she gets that we were a mess. she gets that we tried to act like it didn’t hurt her, but it did.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.

“she gets that i had to pick up the pieces every time you let her down,” you whispered, voice sharp, cutting.

rafe flinched. just slightly. just enough for you to know you hit something real.

but he swallowed it down, steadying himself. “and i get that, too,” he said, low, firm. “i know i fucked up, y/n. i know i wasn’t what either of you needed for a long time. but i’m here now. and i’m trying.”

you crossed your arms, trying to steel yourself. “trying doesn’t erase the past.”

“i’m not asking it to,” he shot back. “i’m asking for a fucking chance.”

the silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“i see it in her, you know,” he murmured after a moment. “how much she wants this to be normal. how much she wants us to be okay.”

you swallowed hard. you knew. you saw it too.

“she told me,” rafe added, softer now. “told me how much she misses when things weren’t so… tense. when we were a team.”

that word dug under your skin, deeper than you wanted it to.

because once upon a time, you and rafe had been just that. a team. two kids who didn’t know what the fuck they were doing but were determined to figure it out together.

and then… everything happened. and "together" stopped meaning the same thing.

you shook your head, pushing off the counter. “it’s not that simple, rafe.”

his lips parted like he was going to argue, but then—footsteps.

both of you turned to see her standing in the hallway, sleep still heavy in her eyes, her notebook tucked under her arm.

“can we talk?” she asked, looking between you and rafe.

your stomach twisted.

she was a teenager now, but the look on her face—the hesitant, worried crease of her brows—made her look younger, more fragile than she usually let on.

you nodded, motioning for her to come sit at the kitchen table. rafe did the same, pulling out a chair beside her.

she took a breath, gripping the edges of her notebook like it would ground her.

“i know you guys think i don’t get it,” she started, voice steady, careful. “but i do.”

rafe glanced at you, then back at her, letting her talk.

“i get that things between you two are… complicated,” she continued. “i know it’s not like before. but…” she exhaled, shaking her head. “i just want to know that i’m not going to lose this. that i’m not going to get used to having you both here, and then one day it just—” she swallowed. “it just stops.”

your heart ached.

rafe’s face flickered with something raw, something that made your chest tighten.

“baby, you’re not going to lose us,” you said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “no matter what happens between me and your dad, we’re always going to be here for you.”

she nodded, but you could see the doubt in her eyes. the fear of false promises, of things changing just when she let her guard down.

rafe leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “i mean it, sweetheart. i’m not going anywhere.”

she studied him, eyes searching his face, like she was trying to decide if she could believe him.

after a beat, she sighed, setting her notebook down. “okay.”

it wasn’t fully convinced. it wasn’t totally reassured. but it was something.

and for now, it had to be enough.

you squeezed her hand again, sending her a small, soft smile. “go get some sleep, okay?”

she exhaled, nodding as she stood. “okay. love you.”

“love you, too,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she turned to rafe.

he pulled her in, pressing a firm kiss to the top of her head. “love you, baby.”

she gave him a small smile before slipping back down the hall, leaving you and rafe alone once again.

you inhaled deeply, bracing yourself before turning to face him. “we need to figure this out.”

he nodded, eyes locked onto yours. “yeah. we do.”

the weight of everything still hung between you. but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like you were standing on opposite sides of it.

and maybe—just maybe—that was a start.

WE SHOULDN'T FEEL LIKE A CRIME - rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, brief mentions of toxic relationships

we shouldn't feel like a crime. rafe cameron x reader fanfic

It was late. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was louder than usual, as if they were trying to drown out the thoughts in your mind, but they didn’t succeed. You sat on the porch of your house, staring into the darkness of the night, trying to make sense of everything. The only thing that was certain was the feeling in your chest—the same feeling that had been there ever since you met Rafe Cameron.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You knew that. He was trouble. You were supposed to stay away. The people in your life had warned you, and deep down, you knew they were right. But there was something about Rafe, something you couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered for a fleeting moment. It wasn’t just the way his touch made you forget all your fears, all your doubts. No, it was more than that.

You didn’t know if it was the danger, the excitement, or just the fact that he made you feel alive in a way you never had before. But all those reasons didn’t matter now. What mattered was that you were caught in something you couldn’t get out of. Something that felt more like a crime than anything else.

You heard footsteps approaching from behind, and you knew without turning around who it was. Rafe’s presence always felt different—heavy, yet familiar.

"Can I sit?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant, which wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him.

You didn’t answer at first, just letting the silence stretch between you, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sat next to you, his knee brushing against yours. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something softer, something you only saw when he thought no one else was watching. You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes. There was something in them that made your heart ache—regret, maybe, or the same frustration you felt.

"You know this isn't right, right?" you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe didn’t immediately answer. He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know," he said, his voice strained. "But I don’t know how to stop."

You let out a frustrated sigh, running your fingers through your hair. "This is... this is dangerous, Rafe. It's not just about us. It’s about everything we’re risking. My family, your family, everything."

He shifted, his hand brushing against yours, the contact sending a shock through you. "I know. But I don't want to walk away from this. From you."

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had known he cared—there was no denying that—but hearing it out loud, hearing him say it like that, made it all feel too real. Too messy. Too much.

"I don’t want to walk away from you either," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "But we both know this isn’t going to end well. You think we can outrun this forever?"

His gaze softened, and he leaned a little closer. "I’m not asking for forever," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Just... tonight. Just one night without worrying about what comes next."

You looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you saw vulnerability in his eyes. The same vulnerability you’d been hiding for so long. The one that made you feel like you weren’t alone in this.

You swallowed, fighting back the emotions threatening to overtake you. "I’m scared, Rafe," you confessed, voice barely audible. "I’m scared of how much this feels like a crime. Like we’re doing something wrong... but it doesn’t feel wrong when I’m with you."

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached for your hand, his fingers gently brushing yours. "It’s not wrong," he said softly. "Not when I’m with you, too."

For a long moment, you stayed like that—quiet, with only the sound of the waves filling the air. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even close. But it was something. And in that moment, it was enough.

"Maybe we shouldn’t feel like a crime," you whispered, staring down at your joined hands. "But... I don’t know if I can keep pretending this doesn’t matter."

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles in slow circles. "Then don’t. Stop pretending. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. I don’t want to lose this."

You nodded slowly, not sure what the future held, but for now, all that mattered was that you were here. Together. Even if it felt like you were both teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t quite control.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, lifting your head to meet his eyes once more.

"Yeah," he said, his voice soft but certain. "Just for tonight."

And for that one night, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t doing something wrong. Maybe this—whatever it was—was worth the risk.

OH, DADDY! - rafe cameron x reader

warnings: nsfw, slight degradation, praise, “daddy” kink, mdni

your head is spinning. thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand, too overwhelmed to catch onto any one of them. he’s got you like this—spread out beneath him, ruined and desperate, the kind of desperate you never thought you’d be.

“look at you,” rafe muses, watching your face twist, your body arching into his as he presses deeper, his hand gripping your jaw. “so fuckin’ pretty when you take it.”

it’s humiliating how fast you whimper in response, but he makes it hard to think—hard to breathe, even, when he’s got you so full, so consumed by the way he touches you. he grins, all sharp teeth and amusement, because he knows. knows you can’t help it. knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

and then it slips. broken and breathless, spilling from your lips before you can even stop yourself.

“oh, daddy—”

the moment it’s out, your heart lurches. your body goes rigid beneath him, embarrassment washing over you in a wave so hot it burns.

but rafe—rafe just stills for a moment, exhales slow, like he’s letting it sink in. and then—oh. oh.

his grip tightens.

“yeah?” his voice is low, a rasp against your ear, drowning in amusement. you can feel him smiling as he presses his lips to your cheek. “tell daddy how it feels.”

your face burns, but your body betrays you—arching into him, nails digging into his shoulders, another pathetic whimper slipping free. he chuckles, deep and rough, rolling his hips slow, deep, making you feel every inch of him.

“c’mon, baby,” he coaxes, lips dragging down your throat, words kissed against your skin. “be good for me.”

and you do. because fuck—how could you not?

a/n : in honour of hitting 200 followers, i love you guys

DONT YOU LIE, - Rafe Cameron x reader

You had been avoiding him ever since the argument. Rafe didn’t like it, didn’t like the silence between you two. But he was too damn stubborn to break the tension first. He didn’t want to apologize; he just wanted things to go back to how they were, and fast. But his pride, his stubbornness—both of those were walls that kept him from admitting he was wrong.

The sound of his boots thudded against the wooden floor as he stepped into the room, his chest rising and falling with the controlled anger that had built up since he walked through the door. His eyes locked on you immediately, sharp and searching.

"you really gonna keep this up?" he demanded, his voice low, rough with barely restrained rage. "i'm not gonna beg you to talk to me."

You didn’t respond, still sitting on the couch with your arms crossed, staring at the floor. It hurt too much to face him right now, especially after everything he said. You just couldn’t understand why he acted like you were the problem when it was him who made you feel like nothing.

"this whole act of you ignoring me? real mature, y’know," he said, the sarcasm in his tone cutting through the thick air. "we fight, and now i’m the villain? is that it?"

you shot him a glare, finally meeting his eyes. “you don’t get it, do you? you don’t even try to understand why i’m upset. you just… shut me out, like it’s nothing.”

he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing, but his voice was still simmering with frustration. “i never said you weren’t important. never said you weren’t worth my time. so don’t act like i’m some damn monster.” there was a slight tremble in his voice, something raw you hadn’t expected. “i just don’t know how to make you understand, okay? i don’t know how to make you stop being mad at me.”

“i’m not mad,” you whispered, the frustration in your chest growing. “i just don’t know how to fix this. you don’t let me in, Rafe. you never do.”

he ran a hand through his hair, something between a growl and a sigh escaping him. “i don’t need to be fixed,” he snapped, his voice rising, the rage coming back to the surface. “i don’t need you to fix everything. i’m just trying to protect you. i’m not trying to push you away.”

you could see it now—the fury mixed with pain in his eyes, a reflection of the vulnerability he’d buried too deep to deal with. “stop making everything so damn complicated,” he muttered, his frustration visible now, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “why do you think i’m pushing you away? you think i want to be like this?”

you stood up, the need to confront him too strong to ignore. “i don’t know what you want, Rafe! you want me to just be fine with you always doing whatever the hell you want? treating me like i don’t matter?”

his anger flared, but there was a softness hidden beneath it, a hurt that came through as he stepped forward, his voice quieter but more intense. “you do matter. but i’m not some damn perfect guy you can just fix with a few words. you think i don’t care? you think i don’t give a damn about you?”

you froze, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “then why do you push me away?” you asked, your voice shaking.

he didn’t answer immediately, his gaze softening just a fraction. “because i don’t know how to be what you need. i don’t know how to be… easy. i’m not that guy. but that doesn’t mean i don’t want this, want you.”

your heart ached at his words, but there was still that wall—his stubborn pride, refusing to let go of the rage long enough to admit he was vulnerable.

“i’m not perfect, but i’m trying," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "so don’t act like i’m breaking you just because i’m not… what you expect.”

you stood there in silence for a moment, the storm between you both settling into a heavy, tense quiet. You could see the fight in him—the rage, the pride—but also the part of him that desperately didn’t want to lose you. And despite everything, despite how he acted, you knew that part of him cared more than he ever let on.

“just don’t shut me out,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "i can’t stand it."

rafe’s shoulders tensed, but he stepped closer, his voice low and rough. “i’m not shutting you out. i’m trying to protect you from myself.”

Anonymous asked:

faking an orgasms with rafe and him getting mad about it?

UGHH HOPE THIS HELPS BC IM SO WEAK AT WRITTING SMUT 😭😭😭

you really thought you could fool him.

the second that forced moan left your lips, rafe knew. his jaw clenched, his grip on your hips tightening just enough to make you squirm. but he let you finish your little act, let you play out your performance, watching you with a stare so sharp it cut through the air like a knife.

and then everything stilled.

his fingers flexed against your skin, holding you in place as he tilted his head, voice low and edged with something dark. “you faked that.”

your stomach dropped. “what? no, i didn’t—”

his laugh was cold, humorless. “don’t fucking lie to me.”

his hand shot up to your jaw, gripping it tight, forcing your gaze to meet his. his pupils were blown wide, a wildfire burning in that stormy blue.

“do you think i’m fucking stupid?”

your mouth opened, but you didn’t even know what to say. it was useless to deny it—he saw right through you.

rafe scoffed, tongue running over his teeth as he pulled back, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair. “cute. real fucking cute. you think i don’t know your body by now?”

your face burned, heat creeping down your spine. “rafe, i didn’t mean—”

“shut up.”

his voice was pure command, laced with irritation and something deeper, something darker.

“you think i can’t make you come? that i don’t know how to fucking ruin you?” his fingers trailed down your body, slow and deliberate, making you shiver. “guess i’ve been too soft on you.”

his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing, just holding. just reminding you who the fuck you were dealing with.

“you don’t fake it with me, ever.” his voice was low, a promise, a warning. his fingers dug into your skin as he yanked you closer, lips brushing against your ear. “so here’s what’s gonna happen—i’m gonna do it again. and this time? you’re gonna fucking feel it.”

he smirked, eyes dark with something dangerous. “and by the time i’m done with you? you won’t even remember how to fake it.”

you're mine - cowboy! rafe Cameron x reader

the barn was quiet, but the air was thick with tension. rafe stood near the door, his arms crossed, eyes narrowing as he watched you fidget, not saying a word. you’d been distant all day, and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

“you been actin’ all off lately,” rafe muttered, his voice deep and slow, that familiar edge in it. “what’s goin’ on with you?”

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, the jealousy you felt was burning too hot. “you don’t get it, do you?” you snapped, crossing your arms. “i don’t like the way you flirt with all those other women. it pisses me off.”

a smirk tugged at rafe’s lips, but it was more amused than anything else. “flirtin’? girl, i ain’t doin’ anythin’ but talkin’ to ‘em.”

you shot him a glare, your voice rising. “don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doin’, rafe. i ain’t stupid.”

his expression darkened, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. “you actin’ like i owe ya somethin’ for every damn woman i speak to,” he growled, his voice getting lower, sharper. “i ain’t here to cater to your jealousy. you gotta trust me, or i ain’t got time for this."

he took a step closer, his presence like a weight pressing down on you. “you think you’re the only one i notice?” he muttered, the edge of his voice cutting through the air. “you’re not the only one, but you sure as hell are the only one that matters. and if you keep makin’ a fuss about every little thing, i’m gonna start wonderin’ if you’re worth it.”

you stared at him, heart pounding, but your pride kept you from backing down. “i’m not some fool, rafe.”

he shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. “you think you’re some saint? i got plenty of women to keep me busy, sweetheart, but i ain’t stupid enough to put up with this. i’m done with the games.”

“then what? you just gonna throw me out?” you hissed, your chest tightening.

he didn’t answer right away. he just stepped into your space, his hand snaking around your wrist in a firm grip, pulling you close. “you wanna leave? go right ahead. but know this—when i keep you around, it’s ‘cause you belong to me. you ain’t gonna like what happens if you keep actin’ like this.”

you tried to pull away, but his hold on you was strong, and his gaze burned with frustration. “you’re mine, and you need to understand that. don’t make me remind you again.”

cop!rafe cameron and reader’s relationship started with flashing lights and a smirk that made your stomach flip in the worst—and best—way.

you hadn’t meant to catch his attention, but speeding through town at night with music blaring didn’t exactly help your case. the red and blue lights filled your rearview mirror, and you groaned, already reaching for your license. but when the tall, broad-shouldered officer stepped up to your window, you froze.

“seriously?” you muttered, looking up at none other than rafe cameron. his uniform fit a little too well, badge shining under the streetlights, but it was the cocky smirk on his face that had your stomach twisting.

“got somewhere to be, princess?” his voice was all smooth authority, but you caught the teasing lilt underneath.

you rolled your eyes, arms crossed. “you gonna give me a ticket or just stand there looking smug?”

he had let you off with a warning that night, but it wasn’t the last time you ran into him. coffee shop encounters turned into late-night conversations outside your car, the tension between you two growing thicker every time. rafe, for all his tough exterior, had something to prove—discipline, control, that he was more than the reckless kid everyone used to whisper about. but with you, he wasn’t just officer cameron. he was rafe.

the first time he kissed you, it was after a long shift. he had been venting about a case, about how no one ever thought he’d be good at this job. you had reached out, resting a hand on his forearm, and his whole body tensed.

“you know you don’t have to prove anything to me, right?” you said softly.

rafe’s blue eyes flickered to your lips, his jaw tightening like he was fighting something. but then he wasn’t. he closed the space between you in one swift motion, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. the kiss was rough, desperate, like he had been holding back for way too long.

and maybe he had been.

Anonymous asked:

rafe grieving about ur breakup so much to the point where he breaks down in front of u (angst and fluff?) tysm <3

authors note: I LOVE THIS IDEA ALSO hope this does you some justice; sorry for the late response !!

he thought he could handle it.

he told himself over and over that this was for the best, that if you didn’t love him anymore, he had no choice but to move on.

but fuck—why did it still feel like you were everywhere?

your name haunted him. it was in the laughter of passing strangers, in the lyrics of songs he used to hear you hum absentmindedly, in the scent of his hoodie that you wore more times than he did.

everywhere he looked, he found pieces of you. pieces that refused to fade.

and god, it was killing him.

he wasn’t supposed to be like this. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to be the one breaking.

but he was.

and it all came to a head the night he saw you again.

it wasn’t even supposed to happen. he had been avoiding you, staying away from places he knew you’d be, because every time he saw you, it felt like his ribs were caving in. but there you were—standing outside the party, arms wrapped around yourself against the cool night air, looking at him like you weren’t sure if you should speak.

for a moment, he thought about walking away. but then you said his name.

and just like that, he was unraveling.

“rafe,” you whispered again, like you knew. like you could see right through him.

he inhaled sharply, shaking his head, his throat tight. “i don’t—” he cut himself off, rubbing a hand down his face. “i can’t do this.”

“do what?” your voice was gentle, but it only made it worse.

“this.” he gestured vaguely between you. “pretending like i’m okay. pretending like it doesn’t still fucking hurt.”

the words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could shove them back down where they belonged. his breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists, but it was useless—he was already breaking.

“rafe…”

“you left,” he said, voice raw, eyes stormy and lost. “and i don’t know how to live with it. i don’t know how to be without you.”

the confession shattered something in the air between you.

he exhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling unevenly, and when he looked at you again, there was something in his eyes that made your stomach twist.

desperation.

“i don’t sleep,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t eat. i don’t feel like—fuck—i don’t even feel like a real person anymore.”

your breath caught.

“i pick up my phone a hundred times a day, and i don’t even know what to say to you,” he went on, words tumbling out of him in a way that felt out of his control. “i keep thinking… if i had just done something different, if i had just—”

his voice cracked.

and then, before you could even register what was happening, he was breaking right in front of you.

his shoulders slumped, his breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. his hands ran through his hair, like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying to physically keep himself together.

“tell me what to do,” he whispered. “tell me how to make this stop.”

your chest ached.

because this wasn’t the rafe cameron the world knew—the sharp, confident, untouchable boy who never let anyone see him bleed. this was the real him. the one you had spent years knowing, loving, understanding.

and right now, he was falling apart.

before you could think better of it, you stepped forward, reaching for him.

the second your hands touched his face, his breath hitched, his skin burning under your fingertips. his eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching, and for a moment, he just stood there, letting himself feel it.

letting himself feel you.

“you’re going to be okay,” you whispered, even though you weren’t sure if it was true.

his grip on you tightened, his forehead dropping against yours. “i don’t know how to be okay without you.”

“you will be,” you promised, though the words tasted like a lie.

he exhaled shakily, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt desperate, like he was afraid to let go. his fingers clung to your back, his breathing uneven, and for a few long moments, neither of you moved.

and maybe, just for tonight, you let him hold you.

maybe, just for tonight, you held him back.

that’s it.

you did it.

you had officially dumped your boyfriend of almost three years, rafe cameron. how did you do it? you don’t know. you and rafe had been on and off for as long as you could remember, and it was never him dumping you—it was always you. this had tired him out, but can you blame yourself? for months, you tried to act like everything was fine between you two, like nothing had changed. after the third time you got back together, you convinced yourself that it was all okay.

boy, were you wrong.

everything had changed. conversations became smaller, affection became scarce, and worst of all, you couldn’t feel it anymore. you didn’t feel it. you did not feel the love you once had for rafe cameron.

the breakup was simple. you told him that you did not want to be romantically involved with him anymore, and he agreed. you couldn’t even detect the hurt in his eyes this time, unlike all the other times you had broken up. maybe he had grown numb to it. maybe he had been expecting it. but the truth is, you couldn’t detect anything from him at all. no sadness, no relief, no anger—just nothing. like he had finally stopped feeling altogether.

so you both act like you’re okay. like everything is fine, like you aren’t avoiding certain topics or hesitating before sending a text. like the weight of the past isn’t dragging behind you with every interaction. you laugh at his jokes, he nods when you speak, and from the outside looking in, you seem like two people who have moved on effortlessly. but you both know it’s a lie.

you and rafe still talk. you both agreed to remain friends, and in a way, you are. there are still text messages exchanged here and there, still the occasional conversation when you run into each other, but it’s not the same. it never will be. there’s a gap now, an invisible wall built between you two that neither of you are willing to tear down. the inside jokes don’t hit the same, the laughter doesn’t come as easily, and the comfort you once found in him is gone. there’s an unspoken understanding between you—you are not what you used to be, and you never will be again.

and for rafe? maybe he wonders what it would have been like if things had been different. maybe he replays the memories in his mind and tries to find where it all started falling apart. or maybe he’s just as lost as you, pretending like it doesn’t still hurt. he tells himself it’s for the best, that this is what needed to happen, but even as he repeats it over and over in his head, it doesn’t quite feel true. sometimes, late at night, he catches himself picking up his phone, fingers hovering over your name, before he shakes his head and sets it down again. because what would he even say? what would be the point?

and maybe, just maybe, that’s for the best.

rafe & reader when TikTok was banned:

you burst through the front door of tannyhill, phone clutched in your hand, eyes wide with panic.

“rafe!” you practically yell, storming into his room.

he barely looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, scrolling lazily through his phone. “what?” he drawls, not even bothering to move.

you launch yourself onto the bed beside him, shoving your phone in his face. “tiktok. is. banned.”

that gets his attention. his brows furrow as he finally takes his airpod out. “what the hell are you talking about?”

you dramatically throw yourself back against his pillows. “i mean gone, deleted, erased. like, no more edits, no more thirst traps, no more ‘rafe cameron x reader’ scenarios. gone.”

rafe blinks at you. then he snorts. “wait… you’re upset because you can’t watch thirst traps of me?”

you shove his shoulder. “no, rafe! i’m upset because i can’t post them either!”

that makes him sit up. “you post about me?”

you roll your eyes. “obviously.”

rafe smirks, now fully invested. “like… what kind of posts?”

you groan. “not the point.”

but it’s too late—rafe is already grinning like he just won the lottery. “nah, nah, it’s exactly the point. you out here simping for me on tiktok?”

you huff and cross your arms. “doesn’t matter now, because it’s banned.”

rafe just chuckles, pulling you into his lap with ease. “guess that means you’ll just have to appreciate me in person now, huh?”

you sigh dramatically but don’t move. “i hate you.”

he kisses your cheek, still grinning. “no, you don’t.”

and damn it, he’s right.

that's just the way life goes - part 4

Saturn & more - dad! rafe cameron x mom reader

the evening grew darker as the three of you sat on the porch, the once-vivid hues of sunset fading into the deep blue of twilight. the school project—a solar system model your daughter had painstakingly assembled—sat proudly on the table as she explained every detail with a level of enthusiasm that made you smile despite the tension that lingered between you and rafe.

“and this is saturn,” she said, pointing to the ringed planet. “it’s dad’s favorite, remember?”

you blinked, glancing at rafe, who leaned casually against the table, his expression soft as he looked at your daughter. “how could i forget?” he said, his voice warm. “you’ve told me at least twenty times.”

she rolled her eyes, grinning. “because it’s the coolest one. duh.”

“obviously,” rafe replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

you stayed quiet, watching the two of them interact. rafe always had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world, and for that, you could never fault him. but it also made it harder to keep your walls up. harder to ignore the cracks in the carefully constructed distance you’d built between you.

“mom,” your daughter said, drawing your attention back. “what’s your favorite planet?”

you hesitated, caught off guard. “uh… earth, i guess.”

“that’s boring,” she said, scrunching her nose. “pick another one.”

“mars,” you said, smiling slightly. “it’s red. it stands out.”

“see? now you’re getting it,” she said, turning her attention back to her project.

rafe glanced at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “mars, huh? bold choice.”

you rolled your eyes, but the faint flush that rose to your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t start.”

“i wasn’t going to,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. but there was a softness in his gaze that lingered longer than it should have, and you felt the weight of it settle in your chest.

as your daughter continued her explanation, rafe’s attention shifted back to her, and for a while, the moment felt almost… normal. like the three of you were just a family, sitting on the porch and sharing a quiet evening together. but when she finally finished and announced she was going inside to grab something, the atmosphere shifted again.

you stood, gathering the empty glasses from the table as rafe leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’d worn earlier.

“you don’t have to stay,” you said, your voice quieter now. “she’ll be fine showing me the rest.”

“i know,” he said, his tone even. “but i’m not in a rush.”

you set the glasses down on the counter just inside the door, your back to him as you tried to steady yourself. he was always like this—so calm, so sure, even when everything between you felt like it was hanging by a thread.

“why are you doing this, rafe?” you asked, turning to face him. “why now?”

he frowned slightly, standing and closing the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps. “doing what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “saying the things you’re saying. showing up like this. you know how hard it is for me to—” you stopped, shaking your head. “it’s just hard.”

rafe’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost unsure. “because i can see it, y/n,” he said quietly. “the way you still look at me when you think i’m not paying attention. the way you hold back, like you’re afraid to admit that what we had—what we have—is still there.”

“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “there’s too much history. too much… everything.”

“so what?” he asked, his tone firm but not harsh. “you think people don’t come back from worse? we’re not perfect, y/n, but that doesn’t mean we can’t figure it out.”

you shook your head, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “i don’t know if i can trust you, rafe.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “then let me prove it,” he said, stepping closer. “let me show you that i’m not the same person i was. that i can be better—for you. for her.”

your chest ached, torn between the part of you that wanted to believe him and the part that remembered all the times you’d been let down before. but before you could say anything, your daughter came bounding back onto the porch, holding a small notebook.

“okay, so this is the next part!” she said excitedly, completely unaware of the tension lingering in the air.

rafe glanced at her, then back at you, his expression softening. “i’ll stay for this,” he said quietly, as if giving you the choice to send him away. but you couldn’t find the words to refuse him, not with the way your daughter lit up when he turned his full attention to her.

so you stayed. and for the rest of the evening, as the sky turned dark and the stars came out, you let yourself hope—just for a moment—that maybe things could be different this time. that maybe, just maybe, rafe could be right.

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"little dove" - daemon targaryen x younger! reader

it was overwhelming—the noise, the grandeur, the presence of the man who had just entered the hall. you’d heard stories about daemon targaryen, the rogue prince, the rider of caraxes, the wielder of dark sister. but nothing could have prepared you for him in person.

he strode into the room like he owned it, silver hair gleaming in the light of the chandeliers, his sharp violet eyes sweeping across the crowd with a mix of disdain and amusement. he didn’t walk; he prowled, exuding a confidence that made the lords and ladies in the room shrink back without him even saying a word.

you were trying not to stare. really, you were. but it was impossible not to. he was unlike anyone you’d ever seen—sharp, dangerous, and utterly magnetic.

unfortunately, he noticed.

his gaze landed on you, lingering for a moment too long, and your breath hitched as he tilted his head, his smirk widening like he’d caught you doing something forbidden. he changed direction, cutting through the room with ease, and suddenly, he was standing in front of you.

“what’s this?” he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying just the faintest hint of mockery. “a little dove lost in a room full of wolves?”

you blinked up at him, your cheeks flushing as you scrambled to respond. “i—i’m not lost,” you stammered, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

daemon chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he leaned in slightly, his violet eyes never leaving yours. “no?” he murmured. “then what are you doing, sitting here so quietly? afraid someone might notice you?”

“no!” you said quickly, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “i just… i prefer to observe.”

his smirk deepened, and he straightened, his hands resting casually on the hilt of his sword. “observe,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it amused him. “tell me, little dove, what have you observed about me?”

your heart raced, and you looked down at your lap, unsure how to answer. “nothing,” you lied, though it was painfully obvious.

daemon leaned down again, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you’re a terrible liar,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “but i’ll allow it. for now.”

you dared to glance up at him, your cheeks still warm as you struggled to steady your voice. “why are you talking to me?” you asked softly, genuinely confused.

he tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more curious. “because you’re the only one here who isn’t tripping over themselves to impress me,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “and i find that… interesting.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that, so you said nothing, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the fabric of your dress. daemon watched you for a moment longer, as if trying to unravel whatever secret he thought you were hiding, before stepping back.

“we’ll talk again, little dove,” he said, his smirk returning as he turned to leave. “i think i’d like to see what else you’re hiding.”

and with that, he was gone, leaving you flustered and confused, your heart racing as you replayed his words in your head. it was your first conversation with daemon targaryen, but you had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be your last.

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