Rafe X Reader - Blog Posts

Cinnamon Girl

pairing rafe cameron x reader

summary the danger of believing you can fix them

content angst, toxic relationships, implied substance use, emotional manipulation mental health struggles

You weren't supposed to love him. Not someone like him.

Rafe was all sharp edges and gasoline, the kind of boy your mother warned you about, all golden skin and devil-may-care smirks.

But there was something in his eyes when he looked at you like the chaos quieted for a moment.

Like he needed you to need him.

You met him on a stormy night at a beach bonfire, music blaring, the flames crackling just as loud as the tension between you two. You were wrapped in your oversized cardigan, sipping cheap wine from a solo cup.

He stood next to you, all cocky energy and restless hands, trying too hard to pretend he didn't care.

But then he asked your name.

And said it like it meant something.

"If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did..."

Late nights in his truck, parked near the cliffs, became your sanctuary.

“If you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did…”

He'd play Lana Del Rey from his phone like he wasn't the type, like he didn't know exactly what her voice did to your heart.

You sat in the passenger seat, legs pulled to your chest, watching the waves below, feeling the weight of everything unsaid.

He'd brush your hair out of your face, call you his "cinnamon girl," soft like a secret, then kiss you like he was trying to memorize the taste of something he didn't think he deserved.

But Rafe was still Rafe. Your Rafe.

The temper, the jealousy, the deep-seated self destruction. They never disappeared. You saw it all. The fights, the bruised knuckles, the recklessness.

And still, you stayed.

Because when the world was quiet, and it was just the two of you. Hearts beating like thunder in your chests, you knew he loved you in the only way he knew how.

Messy. Raw. Real.

You weren't sure if it was love or just the ache of it.

But he made you feel like the center of a hurricane and for now, that was enough.

We Hug Now

pairing rafe cameron x reader

summary After the breakup, you and Rafe Cameron only share awkward hugs instead of late-night confessions, caught in the quiet ache of almost moving on. Neither of you says it, but the silence still feels like love

content angst, emotional distance

The first time you saw him after the breakup, it was at a party on the Cut. Loud music, cheap drinks, and too many memories buzzing around your head like static.

You weren’t expecting to see him there. Not really.

But there he was—leaning against a wall, beer in hand, laughing at something Kelce said. He looked good. He always looked good. But something about him looked…emptier.

He saw you before you saw him.

And when your eyes met, the whole room dropped away.

You didn’t speak. Just… nodded. That was how you greeted each other now.

No more kisses. No more whispered “I miss you” at 3 a.m. No more silly love confessions and giggles.

Just a nod.

Later, you felt him walk up behind you while you were sitting on the porch steps, the air sticky with Carolina heat and words neither of you had the strength to say.

“Hey” he said.

You swallowed.“Hey.”

Silence.

Then…“We hug now?” he asked, a little laugh in his voice like he was trying not to sound as broken as he felt.

You turned to him. “I guess we do.”

It wasn’t the same. His arms felt familiar but distant, like holding a ghost. You wanted to cry. You didn’t.

“I thought I’d stop thinking about you by now,” he said into your shoulder.

You pulled back just enough to look at him. “I thought you wanted space.”

“I did,” he said. “I just didn’t realize how much it would hurt.”

You didn’t kiss him. You didn’t say you still loved him. But you rested your head on his chest and let the silence say it for you.

And when you let go, you both knew you weren’t ready to be strangers but you didn’t know how to be lovers anymore either.

So, for now… you hugged.

And maybe that was enough.

hi! this my first time writing, so i hope you enjoy it ♡

hiiii sweets! i’ve unpublished all of my works due to some personal stuff, but some of them will come back! it’ll mostly be the john b writings, but some of the jj stuff may come back too! sorry for any inconvenience! 🤍

plsplspls send requests guys i have sm motivation but no ideas 🙁

(especially for my sweet boy john b ☺️☺️)

only if you want to

pairings: john b x fem!reader

Info/warnings: anxiety, established new relationship, fem!reader but can maybe be read as gender neutral.

asks: open! 𝜗𝜚

a/n: based off the song above!! just thought it’d be comforting especially as someone who struggles with anxiety!!

“if you wanna love me, try to get inside my brain. experience is nothing compared to the nights I'm always up so late”

it’s the third time this week you’ve woken up in a cold sweat, anxious for no reason that you can recall. you feel bile rise in your throat and wonder if throwing up will make the feeling go away. you go to the small kitchen and get a glass of water, trying not to wake john b or jj. you thought sleeping on the couch of the chateau would help with your recent sleep troubles, but you clearly thought wrong. you leaned against the counter and chugged the water before lightly placing it in the sink.

everything seemed so fast yet so slow when you got like this. you felt a sense of impending doom but also felt like it would never end. you didn’t even notice your own crying until a tear fell onto your grey tank top, the water mark visible. you wiped your eyes and moved to sit on the kitchen floor. you figured it’s better than jj waking up to you crying on the couch near him.

you tucked your knees into your chest and tried to take deep breaths, but every breath you took felt like it just wasn’t deep enough. you felt your body tingling and put your head into your hands. you wanted the feeling to go away, how is it that rest is the thing that’s supposed to help and yet you can’t stay asleep for more than 3 hours? you were so caught in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps out into the kitchen. Your ears were ringing and you felt unreal.

it wasn’t until he sat down by you that you noticed john b was awake, and in the room with you. you lifted your gaze but didn’t look at him. “I’m sorry john b, I didn’t mean to wake you.” your words were choked out, and if you weren’t so caught up in your own thoughts then maybe you’d feel bad for yourself. You felt his hand around your upper back as he pulled you closer to him. you could tell he was tired by his slow movement and you felt terrible. he broke the silence with a whisper. “wasnt you that woke me, just had to use the bathroom.” you knew it was a lie, but you also knew that his intentions were good.

you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a shaky breath, tears still occasionally falling. “bee, i dunno what’s wrong with me..” your words were mumbled but understandable. you felt him shake his head as his hand came up to stroke your hair. “i know” is all he said. and yet, those two words seemed to make you feel slightly better. he didn’t invalidate you, he didn’t call you dramatic or say there’s nothing wrong. Instead he acknowledged it and let you know that he understands.

“wishing i still had my dreams. late night started, take up space. 'cause every time i try to remember, lack of sleep takes half my brain”

you couldn’t tell how long you guys sat there for, but he let you cry to him. he let you express the same things you expressed the night before, and the night before that. and he actually listened, he responded when it was right and stayed quiet when you needed him to. you don’t know how you got so lucky. your relationship was still so new you didn’t know how he was okay with dealing with this. how was he okay dealing with you?

he rubbed your shoulder before slowly standing up, you knew he wasn’t leaving the room though. he took down a plastic cup from the cabinet and opened the fridge. he poured a bit of milk in the cup before bringing it to the microwave and putting it in for a minute. you looked up at him and furrowed your brows. when it was done he took it out and handed it to you.

“it helps calm you down— my dad used to do it for me when i was younger.” you nodded at him slowly and gave him a small smile, even with tear stained cheeks and somewhat messy hair he thought you were gorgeous. you took a few sips of the milk before setting it down. he moved to sit back down, but this time directly in front of you. his hand moved to rest on your knee as his thumb rubbed back and fourth comfortingly. you felt terrible keeping him up, you felt terrible bringing all of these feelings you had into his home.

“you can go back to bed” you affirmed him, he only shook his head and moved his hand from your knee to your hand. “i need to know you’re asleep first” his words made you wanna cry again. you couldn’t fall back asleep, not tonight anyway. you didn’t want to keep him awake and waiting for nothing. “i can’t.” you murmured. john b looked up at the clock on the wall that was surly an hour behind and bit his inner lip.

“if you want, you could stay with me in my bed. if you want to, only if you want to”

“come lay with me.” his words were spoken in a quick whisper, but weren’t hesitated. you focused your gaze more on him now and furrowed your brows before slowly shaking your head. you spoke, your voice broken. “i’m not gonna make you do that.” you felt like such a burden. even if he didn’t show it, your mind told you that’s what you were.

“you’re not making me do anything. i want you to.” again, his words were sure. you thought to yourself, looking at the cup of milk that sat beside you on the floor. you picked it up and took another small sip of it before placing it back down. “only if you want to, though.” his voice slightly startled you that time.

you scanned his face for any expression of a lie, for any hope that you’d turn him down. but it wasn’t there, he really did care. he really did want to help you feel better. you looked at him and nodded. “okay.”

“if you want, you can go ahead and fix my head. if you want to, only if you want to”

he took both of your hands and helped you up onto your feet, leaving the cup on the floor to be picked up in the morning. he led you to his room and shut the door. he was touching you so lightly, almost as if it was something physically wrong with you. he was just too good to you. he let you take the side of his bed near the wall while he took the outer end. he pulled the blanket up over the both of you and wrapped an arm around your stomach while the other moved up for his hand to brush through your hair.

“i’m no doctor, but for you i’ll do anything i can to figure it out” his words were a tired whisper in your ear, but they were genuine. he’s only as young as you, only as naive as you. but he would still spend hours with you on the kitchen floor listening. he would still do anything he could to get inside your mind and fix whatever makes you feel like this. for you he’s willing to do it his whole life. the thought of that is what put you to sleep, and with a kiss to your temple he drifted off beside you.

‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃ꫂ᭪ ۫໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ℛafe During Your Honeymoon! ࿐ ༢

warnings; none! fluff<3

Summer in the Virgin Islands was a queer occurrence where the devastating heat and the fragrance of passion fruit and the shanties selling beadwork and skinned herring and thick spools of flowers threaded together to the entourage of tourists all melted languidly into a hedonistic passage. She could feel the humidity sink into her bones as she lay her stomach flat onto the coast as the salty turquoise waters washed over the white sand in a rhythmic manner, the sound of waves crashing lulling her slowly to sleep. It was only when a familiar muscled hand drew his fingertips over the suntanned small of her back that she arose, gasping softly as they trailed down to the plump swell of her ass that was red from too much sun and she smiled real wide from too much wine. Rafe's other hand found purchase on her tattooed palm and he grinned as the cool metal of his ring kissed the obscenely large diamond set on hers. Their wedding had just been a week ago, a frivolous event as was anything sponsored by the Camerons' black amex, but somehow, the two of them found more pleasure in basking in the newness of it all on the expanse of tropical beach alone than they had sitting in the center of a black-tie occasion and playing the gracious pair of hosts.

Rafe laid down beside her, his larger frame shadowing over her own, and in that moment, he came to realize that the only thing that would truly matter to him from now until the day he takes his final breath was her. She was all-consuming and it was chemical just how quickly she managed to make herself seen in his life, whether it was through the scent of bergamot that lingered on her skin or the abrasive cackle of her laughter that colors her red — she was a figment of his imagination that he had willed to be true. She had to be; there was no other reason why someone as jaded and awful and destructive as he had been given something so pure. As her freckled and tanned stomach rose steadily with belly-deep breaths, Rafe knew he would spend an eternity trying to deserve her and would yet never succeed. For some reason, here, now, enveloped in the solitude of their intimate honeymoon escapade, he was alright with that.

author's note; yayayay I hope you guys liked it! i'm iffy on it rn