hi‚ SUNNYY! I’m on my period right now and I would like to indulge you with a silly little request tee hee. reader is on her period and feels insecure (bc hormones) and been snappy all day (me) ending to feeling guilty for treating rafe like that 🥹🥹. like always you could change things and no pressure too!
love, mari
Hiii Mari!! Welcome back, welcome back. I hope this makes you feel better anyways enjoy! 😙
Cramping My Mood
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Her day had felt long— longer than it had any right to be. The kind of day where everything grated on her nerves for no good reason. The sunlight was too bright. The air felt too sticky. And every word out of Rafe Cameron’s mouth felt like nails on a chalkboard.
He wasn’t even doing anything wrong. In fact, that was the problem. He was being… normal. His usual cocky, teaisgn self. Normally she loved it. Normally she would roll her eyes and shove his arm with a smile tugging at her lips and her heart skipping.
But not today.
Today, every time he made a joke, she bit back with something sharp. Every time he reached for her, she flinched like his touch was too much. And Rafe, to his credit, didn’t snap back. Not once. Which honestly made her feel worse.
By the time they made it back to his house, she was silently fuming at herself. Her cramps had started in full force hours ago, and her body felt like it was staging a revolt from the inside out. She wanted to curl up in a dark room with a heating pad and disappear into a pile of pillows and blankets.
Instead, she was sitting on his couch, arms crossed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone like the screen had personally offended her.
Rafe was quiet for a long time, sitting across from her, leaning back in the chair with one leg kicked out, drumming his fingers against his thigh. He studied her, his blue eyes sharp but soft at the edges in that way they only ever were with her.
Finally, he broke the silence.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on, sweet girl?” His voice wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t even annoyed, and that almost undid her completely.
She didn’t look up. Her voice was flat, almost defensive. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Yeah?” He tilted his head, one brow arching in that way that always made her feel seen—even when she didn’t want to be. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Her throat tightened. With a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her, the thud louder than she intended. “Rafe, please. Not right now.”
He raised both hands in fake surrender, but he didn’t leave. Didn’t shift back or give her the space she thought she wanted. Instead, he stayed sat across front of her, shoulders relaxed but eyes sharp, watching her like she was some complicated puzzle he refused to give up on.
And that was the moment the guilt began to seep in, slow and suffocating.
Because here he was —calm, patient, steady—doing absolutely nothing wrong. And she’d spent the entire day being short with him, snapping at every small thing, all because her body had decided to betray her mood and make everything feel unbearable.
Her chest ached, not from the cramps that had been clawing at her since morning, but from the way his jaw flexed ever so slightly, like he was biting back the urge to push.
Rafe Cameron was never a man known for patience. Not with his dad. Not with his friends. Not with anyone, really. But with her? He was different. Always different.
And she hated herself for taking advantage of that without meaning to.
“I’m…” Her voice cracked, forcing her to swallow hard. Her gaze fell to her lap, shame curling in her stomach. “I’m sorry.”
That pulled his attention like a magnet. His brows furrowed, the hard edges of his expression softening into something almost tender. “For what?”
She hugged her knees to her chest, ignoring the sharp pull in her abdomen as she folded in on herself. “For being like this all day. Snappy. I know I’ve been… awful.”
“You haven’t been awful,” he said immediately —without hesitation, like the very idea of her believing that was something he couldn’t allow.
“Yes, I have.” Her throat burned. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and I’ve just been… mean. And you didn’t deserve that.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then she felt the couch dip beside her, and before she could blink, his arm was sliding around her shoulders, pulling her gently into his chest.
“You having a bad day doesn’t make you mean,” he murmured against her hair. “It makes you, you.” He said simply as if it didn’t melt her heart.
Her eyes stung. She hated how easily he could undo her defenses like that.
“It’s not just a bad day,” she admitted, voice muffled against his shirt. “It’s… my period. And I feel gross and everything hurts, and I hate it, and—”
“You should’ve said something.” He didn’t sound frustrated. He sounded… soft. Almost concerned.
“I didn’t want to make it a big deal.”
“Baby…” He tilted her chin so she’d look at him, his thumb brushing along her jaw with a tenderness that made her chest ache even more. “You think I care about that? You think I wouldn’t wanna know when you’re hurting?”
Her bottom lip trembled, and he caught it with his thumb before she could bite it.
“You’ve been holding it in all day,” he said quietly. “No wonder you were snappy.”
She let out a weak laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that.” He kissed the top of her head, slow and deliberate, his lips lingering like he wanted her to feel every ounce of reassurance. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling like crap.”
She melted against him then, the fight draining from her muscles as he pulled her closer, practically into his lap. His hands were warm against her back, grounding and steady in a way she didn’t realize she needed until now.
“You cold?” he asked after a moment, his chin resting on top of her head.
“A little.”
“Stay here.” He kissed her hair again before standing, and for the first time all day, she felt a flicker of calm.
When he came back, he had one of his hoodies in one hand and a soft gray blanket in the other. Without a word, he slipped the hoodie over her head, guiding her arms through like she was fragile. Then he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and tucked it in at the sides, like he was building a cocoon just for her.
She could’ve cried right then.
“Better?” he asked, settling back beside her and pulling her into his side again.
She nodded, sniffling a little. “Yeah.”
“Good.” His fingers traced lazy circles against her arm. “You eat today?”
“A little.”
He gave her a look. “What does ‘a little’ mean?”
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
“Alright.” He stood again, and she groaned at the loss of warmth. “Where are you going?”
“Kitchen.” He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk that didn’t quite hide the concern in his eyes. “Pretty sure ice cream fixes fucking everything.”
She laughed softly, the sound breaking some of the heaviness in the room.
By the time he came back with a pint of her favorite flavor and two spoons, her cramps had eased just a little— not because they were gone, but because he was here. Because Rafe Cameron, the boy everyone swore was trouble, was sitting on the couch watching her eat bites of ice cream and kissing the corner of her mouth when she smiled.
And when she leaned into him, letting her head rest on his shoulder, he pressed his lips to her temple and whispered, “You don’t ever have to hide from me, okay?”
She nodded, the weight in her chest finally lifting.
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