#rafe x reader

[rafeysvenicebitch]

Guys pls send in asks I beg 🥹🥹

[angelbellle]

ＡＬＬ ＡＢＯＵＴ ＭＥ🧁

𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾’𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 <3

requests are open!!! i write mostly for rafe cameron but i’m really excited to start writing so i’m open to suggestions 🎀

master list etc will be posted soon

[flowerstvrs]

rafe x reader

authors notes : fluff.

rafe isn’t quite sure how to comfort you when you come to his door crying and breath unsteady.

————————————————————————

you’re quite an emotional and sensitive person, and you’re not embarrassed about it, it’s normal to show emotion.

however, you’re boyfriend, rafe, is not the best comforter in the world, he’s quite blunt and straight to the point with it.

it also doesn’t help that you’re practically a ball of anxiety at all times, you feel like the anxiety character from inside out majority of the time.

so when you rock up to his house, your eyes all watery and your breathing a little ragged, you don’t get the comfort you were expecting.

“anxious? of sad?” he asks as he opens the door.

you know he’s not exactly trying to be rude, he’s just very straight to the point in dealing with emotions.

you look up at him, a small from on your face, and your eyes teary and red. “i don’t know.” is all you whisper out.

you are anxious, so anxious that it’s too difficult to connect your thoughts to words at the moment.

rafe invites you in and you sit on the sofa next to him, sniffling and taking deep breaths frequently.

he just looks at you for a few moments, as if trying to work out how to deal with your current state, rafe is really not good with this sorta stuff.

“are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” is what eventually comes out his mouth.

you sniffle a few times before speaking. “i feel sick.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “sick? that’s why you’re like this?” he questions in disbelief.

you shake your head and take another deep breath. “i feel sick because of it.”

he sighs and rubs his head slightly. “start from the start, why are you like this?”

you wanna make a joke about starting from the start of why you’re like this, but the joke quickly disappears as the feeling of you chest tightening with anxiety fills your brain.

“i don’t wanna talk right now.” you whisper quietly, you just want to be comforted, you don’t want to share everything right now.

he looks at you for a few moments again in silence. “then i don’t know what you want me to do, you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

you look up at him in slight disbelief.

you know his bad at dealing with emotions but surely he has some sense to comfort you.

“just comfort me please.” you almost please with him as you sniffle and wipe your face.

he looks like you just asked him to build rome in a day.

“you need your problem solved, not comfort.” he mutters.

you cough through a small sob that escapes your lips. “i think i know what i need.”

he stays silent and just watches you.

“rafe please.” you gently grasp his hand, you feel the way he goes to pull away before deciding against it.

he still doesn’t stay anything.

“rafe..” you whisper quietly as you sniffle slightly.

he looks away and just looks infront of him, you pull your hand back and whisper a small sorry.

you both sit there quietly, your occasional sniffle breaking the silence.

“i was at work..” you start before biting at your lip for a moment.

you got a summer job, to have something to do before starting your first year at uni.

“and uh, the coffee machine broke, and there was a queue of people, like so many.” you continue as you nervously fiddle with your belt.

“and i didn’t know what to do, and my boss had just left to stock up on milk, and this guy, he looked like a businessman, he started shouting at me.” you tell him.

“and i didn’t know what to do because it’s a new machine, i knew how to fix the old ones, but i these ones were so confusing.” you pause for a moment to wipe your eyes.

“and so i plucked up the courage to tell him to try and fix it then, and he tried and failed, which was satisfying.” you say. “but then my boss came back and started shouting at me for letting a customer behind the counter.”

“and i think that was just the last straw, i felt so sick with anxiety and my chest felt so tight, and luckily it was the end of my shift, i was just waiting for my boss to get back, so i left and came here.” you finish.

he stays silent for a moment. “and neither do then apologised?” he questions.

you shake your head.

“fucking idiots.” he mutters to himself. “you know you did nothing wrong, right?”

you look at him, surprised by the softness in his voice, you give him a nod.

“the customer had no right to yell at you, especially for something he couldn’t do either, and neither did your boss, he shouldn’t have left you alone.” rafe says.

you just want to crawl into his arms because he said you needed to solve the problem not comfort, but surely the problems basically solved now, you told him everything.

“has the anxiety gone?” he asks.

you shake your head, it’s better but it’s not completely gone.

he sighs. “have you gone through all your coping methods?” he asks.

you nod.

“why are you not speaking?” he asks.

you look at him again. “your questions are yes or no questions.” you say quietly.

he nods. “do you want to order takeaway?” he asks.

you shake your head.

“watch a movie?”

you shake your head again.

“have a bath?”

you shake your head again.

“surely something will make you feel better.”

you hesitate for a moment. “can i just have a hug? it doesn’t have to be long, just for a moment.”

rafe feels his chest tighten slightly at the way you ask, you’re saying it like you’re asking for something really big, he mentally slaps himself for making you feel that way about asking for comfort from him.

“come here.” he says and opens his arms.

you immediately move so that you’re wrapped in his arms, your head on his chest and your legs curled up to his.

you both stay quiet for a few minutes and just as you’re about to tell him that he can stop if he wants to, he grabs a blanket and drapes it over the both do you as he pulls your closer.

“i know i can be a bit harsh sometimes, and im sorry baby, im not used to this whole comfort thing, it was always ‘suck it up’ when i was growing up.” he says quietly as if speaking to loudly would break this moment.

“but i’ll try and be better for you, i know you like the comfort.” he says.

you nod and move closer. “i do, but it is good to talk about it to, im glad you got me to.”

he nods and presses a kiss to your head. “i need to comfort you too though, i could’ve let you speak whilst holding you, im sorry beautiful.”

you smile slightly. “it’s okay.”

you both stay like that for a while and pass a couple of words but mostly enjoy the silence.

after several minutes of silence you speak up. “oh and about that takeaway, i do want one.”

he laughs. “i’ll order one now.”

————————————————————————

[rafesbrattyprincess]

Can someone please find me some rafe sugar daddy Fanfiction X bratty reader or Oc

[babydollrafe]

Guyyyssss I swear I’m going to write everything in my inbox I SWEAR

[rafesdaydream]

One shot where Rafe is a little grown and became a boxer to get his anger out and he meets pogue reader in a bar after winning and finds out she bet against him?

Underground nights

pairing: Boxer!Rafe Cameron x Soft!Pogue!Reader

blurb: you, despite being a pogue, catch Rafe's attention after betting against him

warnings: mentions of violence, dark thoughts, alcohol, slight angst

wc: 1.6k

Violence always seemed to find Rafe, no matter how much he tried to escape it. He couldn’t avoid it. Bar fights. Thrown punches. Cracked drywall. So he stopped. Stopped trying to hide from it. Decided to channel his anger into something else. What started as nights alone in the Tannyhill private gym, throwing punches at a bag as a form of release when he was a teenager, ended up becoming matches in the ring, squaring off against a real partner. 

Rafe wasn’t a professional. He wasn’t in the UFC or anything like that. Instead, he found himself at underground fights on the Cut. The people who mistook him for some prissy Kook were quick to learn that his punches came sharper than his words. The life didn’t come with trophies or medals, but it came with stacks of cash and a long line of girls swooning over him. Now that he couldn’t deal drugs anymore because of Ward breathing down his neck, this would have to suffice. 

Besides, this allowed him his release without any judgment. Rafe got the chance to expel all his anger in trade for money. Good enough deal for him. 

The roar of the crowd filled his ears as Rafe slipped off his shirt, raking a hand through his hair. The audience was littered with its fair collection of spoiled girls who’d strayed too far from Figure 8, Pogues who considered this entertainment, and the guys with an overinflated ego who thought they had a shot at beating him. Since Rafe started here a couple months ago, that didn’t happen often, if ever. Sure, he’d taken his fair share of blows, but when the rage that always resided in him truly came out, his opponents didn’t stand a chance. 

There was a force inside that fueled him to the point where sometimes the referees, who rarely got involved, would have to pull him off so he didn’t beat the other guy to death or something. Although Rafe would never admit it, he hated when he lost control like that. When he felt powerless over himself. He considered it a weakness. 

Rafe tried to push the thoughts out of his mind as he stepped into the ring, fists taped tight like usual. People were finishing up bets as his opponent stepped in, wearing a white tank top. Fucking pussy. Can’t even be shirtless for a match. It was some Pogue whose name Rafe didn’t know. And didn’t care to know. All Rafe knew was that he had a fight with his father earlier today and needed to get all his frustration out before it bubbled over in all the wrong ways.

He turned to glance over the crowd once more, a group of squealing Kook girls in outfits that barely covered anything, catching his attention. They looked like a good enough distraction for after. Rafe gave them a quick wink, watching how they basked in his attention, giggling louder. He spun back around with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes. They truly never changed. All so fucking desperate. 

Bets on him were high tonight, like always. Anyone who didn’t bet on him was stupid or just wanted to lose their money. As the referee stepped up, Rafe’s eyes fell on you, going up to bet on his opponent. Rafe scoffed to himself. How fucking naive. He didn’t know you but could obviously tell you were a Pogue. Simple worn denim shorts and a pink baby tee were clues enough. He could also tell from the fact that he saw you hand over a measly crumpled ten-dollar note with a little smile. Pathetic. 

Rafe watched you walk back to the stands quietly, not noticing him staring. Something about it pissed him off. Why the fuck were you betting against him? He didn’t have any more time to dwell on it before the bell rang, signalling the start of the match. Rafe watched as his opponent lifted his fists, doing the same with a smug look on his face. 

His opponent threw the first punch almost immediately. Amateur. Rafe dodged, wanting to draw this out. If he really wanted to, he could’ve knocked him out right here, but where’s the fun in that? After all, he had to give the audience a show, right? Another punch, another miss. 

“Is that all you, pretty boy?” Rafe chuckled.

The guy stared at Rafe. If he was trying to look intimidating, it wasn’t working. Rafe turned to look in the direction you’d walked in, making direct eye contact for a second. God, the look on your face. As if you were trying to act unaffected. Rafe knew better, noting the wall you gulped nervously. He smirked before spinning and throwing his first punch, hitting his opponent square in the jaw. The guy stumbled back with a grunt.

Rafe didn’t stop, getting bored of waiting now. He dodged the guy’s weak swing before landing another hit. And another. And another. It felt good letting all his anger out, and Rafe didn’t hold back. In moments like this, all he heard was his father’s voice calling him a disappointment, everything else blurring out of focus. His opponent tried to defend himself, but it was no use. He seemed to realise when Rafe had him pinned to the ground, punches never slowing. Bruised and beaten, he finally yielded, giving the sign.

Rafe managed to stop himself. Just barely. His breath was heavy, blood pumping as he stood up, the cheers from the audience returning. 

“Give it up for Rafe!” The screams grew louder as the referee walked up and lifted Rafe’s hand. The smirk never left his face. His eyes seemed to find you again, looking a little disappointed. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe’s attention had been caught.

Rafe was at the adjoined bar later, knuckles bruised and ego high. He’d been paid five hundred today. Not bad. He was at the bar, taking full advantage of the three free drinks offered to the day’s winners, when he saw you walking by. His lips curved into a smirk as he walked over, blocking your path. 

You stopped just short of bumping into him, then froze as you saw who he was. “Um… excuse me,” you whispered, trying to get past him. Not so quickly. 

“You bet against me,” Rafe stated flatly, not hiding the amusement in his voice.

You blinked, clearly not expecting him to know. Your reaction gave Rafe a rush. Satisfaction? Thrill? He wasn’t sure, but he relished it. “Y-you saw?” you stuttered out, nervous, not sure what he was going to do to you. You’d just watch him beat a guy. 

Rafe chuckled at your obliviousness. “You new here?” He already knew the answer but asked anyway. Of course, you nodded as Rafe expected. 

“One thing you should know, sweetheart,” he leaned closer, breath fanning over your ear, “don’t bet against me.” 

Rafe pulled back to watch your wide eyes, the terrified look on your face. God, you were sweet. “O-okay,” you nodded frantically. 

He couldn’t help but smile fully. “You know, an underground fighting ring is no place for a girl like you.”

“I know… I just came here with my boyfriend,” you whispered, barely meeting his eyes.

For reasons Rafe couldn’t place, his fist tightened. You had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, but it did. Suddenly, Rafe had the primal urge to know. To know which fucking bastard here was dating you. “Who’s your boyfriend?” Rafe asked, trying and failing to keep his tone neutral. 

If you noticed the undertone in his voice, you didn’t show it. Or perhaps it was hidden under your already present nervousness. “Jake,” you mumble. When he raised his eyebrow, you kept going. “Um… the guy you were fighting.”

Rafe’s blood went cold, jaw clenching harder, his smirk gone now. That fucking weakling was your boyfriend? Rafe couldn’t understand why a girl like you would be with someone like that when you could do so much better. This shouldn’t matter. You were Pogue. Rafe tried telling himself that, but his mind seemed to ignore it. Just as he was about to speak, your boyfriend came into view behind you, bandages loose, holding a pack of ice. Rafe was almost certain the idiot was fucking limping.  

You turned, your nervousness shifting into a smile at the sight of Jake. “Hi…” you whispered softly as he walked closer. It just pissed Rafe off more. 

Jake wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. So fucking sweet. Then his eyes landed on Rafe. He froze for a second before extending his hand like some respectable guy. “Hey man… good game.”

Rafe stared for a second before smiling. Coldly. He shook the guy’s hand hard, watching as he winced slightly. He didn’t say anything. He was too focused on you. The way you were looking at Jake like he hung the moon or some shit. 

“You wanna go home, babe?” Jake asked. Of course, the fucking pussy wasn’t staying for a drink. His broke ass probably couldn’t afford it. 

You nodded before turning to Rafe. “Nice meeting you,” you smiled before walking off with your boyfriend. 

Rafe watched as you left. Whatever anger he’d just released in beating the shit out of your boyfriend had returned. Doubled this time. He went to the bar, ordered a whiskey, and downed it in one go, savouring the burn down his throat. 

Those stupid Kook girls were the last thing on his mind right now. Rafe would have you. And he’d make sure of it.

a/n: @bookishbelle2312 tysm for sending in this request and im sorry it took me like a month to get to but hope you like it!! 😭 ik this was supposed to be a oneshot but i couldn't really think of a satisfying ending so idk i might do another part 🤭 more reqs will be coming soon if you sent one in i promise ive seen in and will get to it asap i love your ideas sm! 💕 feel free to send in requests for fics, headcanons or moodboards ‎ꫂ᭪݁

taglist: @rafesgreasycurtainbangs , @rafecameronarchive , @misschillyy

dividers: @chrisssiren

♡ masterlist ♡

[kenzgraceluv26]

me realizing i have to actually write part 4 of my fic and it won't mysteriously just get onto my laptop or phone from my head..

[uglylittlefawn]

it was a sweltering july afternoon on kildare. the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, its rays making everyone, especially you, a bit hazy. after a long while in the sun, you lay in the reclined passenger seat of rafe’s truck, oversized sunglasses covering your weary eyes.

he’s got his phone connected to the vehicle’s bluetooth system, your shared car playlist softly playing through the speakers. you tried adding a few songs of your choosing after he insisted he wouldn’t mind, and he’d still love you even if he didn’t like one of your favorite songs. in fact, he “wanted to hear some of that shit you like”, even though you knew he was mainly just trying to make you feel especially included, due to the anxiety that always seems to plague you no matter the situation. in order to impress and relate to him, you added a few female rap songs you enjoy to the playlist.

rafe taps his fingers against the leather steering wheel to the beat of the song playing, which happened to be ‘slut him out’ by baby tate. rap didn’t seem like a genre you frequented, or so rafe thought.

his eyebrows raise as you hum along, mouthing every few words in your half-asleep state, tuckered out from the sun. you were just too exhausted to be shy about the explicit lyrics like you usually would be.

“you, uh… you like this one?” rafe asks, grin evident in his tone. his voice interrupting the song wakes you from your cat-nap.

“huh?” you reply, voice scratchy with sleep.

“you’re singing. you know this song?” he continues, turning the music down just enough to hear your quiet voice.

“oh…” you start, rubbing your eyes with your fists. you were just getting comfortable. “i— i guess so…” you reluctantly admit, preparing yourself for his onslaught of teasing.

“do you even know what you’re singin’ along to? hah…” he chuckles, shocked you would even keep the song on for longer than five seconds without getting hot in the face and pressing the skip button.

“it’s just a song…” you shrug, feeling the ever-common wave of shyness that appears whenever rafe pokes fun at you.

“nah— nah, baby, this isn’t just ‘a song’, are you hearing yourself? the you i know would never be caught dead sayin’ this shit.” he gestures to the screen of his truck, slowing to a stop at a red light, before turning his torso to face you. you begin to sink into your seat at his gaze.

“it’s not, like, a big deal, it’s just words—“ you try to defend yourself before he cuts you off with a scoff.

“okay, well— if they’re just words, then go ahead and repeat them for me. say ‘em to my face.” rafe grins, pointing at his chest repeatedly.

“rafe, please…” you cover your cheeks, heat spreading throughout your face and down your neck.

“c’mon,” he goads, reaching across the center console to tuck a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. “you’ll repeat all the shit she’s saying behind my back, but you can’t say it to my face? really, baby? you really that shy?”

“i don’t wanna say it…” you mumble, shoulders raised to your ears, body slumped in your seat. you know his teasing is always light-hearted, but you can’t help but get so embarrassed around him.

“yeah, i know you don’t.” he gives in, turning back to face the road, beginning to accelerate the truck on the final stretch back to tannyhill. “i know my girl doesn’t talk like that.”

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