#Drew starkey x you
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er1nne · 1 day ago
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the interview with drew goes viral (do not copy or plagarize, original work)
Your phone buzzed incessantly on the coffee table, notifications pouring in like a tidal wave. You had been trying to ignore them, focusing instead on the lukewarm coffee sitting untouched next to your laptop. But every time your gaze strayed to the screen, that unmistakable thumbnail glared back at you: Drew Starkey’s Red Carpet Interview Goes Viral.
You reached for your phone hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip as your thumb hovered over the video. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen it—you’d watched it at least five times since it went live just hours ago. And yet, the views were climbing at an almost alarming rate.
1.8M views. 2.3M views. 2.9M views.
Your stomach flipped as you opened the video again. The screen flickered to life, and there you were, standing under the bright lights of the red carpet, microphone in hand, smiling up at Drew Starkey like you’d just won the lottery.
“Drew,” your recorded voice greeted, a bit too bright, a bit too eager. “Welcome. How does it feel to be here tonight?”
The video cut to Drew, his piercing blue eyes and easy smile capturing the camera—and apparently, millions of viewers. “It feels surreal,” he said in his calm, measured tone. “Like stepping into a moment that’s bigger than me.”
Bigger than him? The comment section certainly didn’t think so.
You reluctantly scrolled down, unable to stop yourself from diving into the chaos:
• “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. HELLO?!” • “Girl, you’re me. I’m you. We’re all the same.” • “Drew Starkey calling this interviewer good at her job and smiling like that??? ” • “Her laugh at the end!! She’s so flustered but trying to keep it together.”
You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Flustered” didn’t even begin to cover it. Watching the interview now, with the clarity of hindsight, made you cringe in the most infuriatingly embarrassing way. You hadn’t just been professional—you’d been fangirling.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love your job—you did. Interviewing actors and being part of the glittering world of film was your dream. But there was something about Drew Starkey that had completely unraveled you. Maybe it was the way he spoke, thoughtful and deliberate. Or the way his eyes lingered, like he was seeing past the bright lights and chaos to something more grounded. Or maybe it was the way his hand had brushed against your elbow when he leaned in, sending a shiver down your spine that you still couldn’t quite shake.
You glanced back at the video, biting your lip as the final moments replayed.
“By the way,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, leaning in just slightly, “you’re good at this.”
Your recorded laugh was a little too soft, a little too nervous. “Well, thank you,” you’d replied, the words nearly catching in your throat.
The camera lingered on him as he walked away, and you swore you could see him glance back at you, just for a moment.
You closed the video, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. “It’s just a clip,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself. “People are overreacting.”
But even as you said it, another notification popped up on your laptop, this time from Instagram. You opened the app, scrolling aimlessly through the flurry of tagged posts and stories from the event. And then you saw it.
Drew Starkey had liked the video.
He liked the video.
Your breath caught, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at the tiny heart icon next to his name. He hadn’t commented, hadn’t reached out—but that single like was enough to set your nerves alight.
You picked up your phone again, scrolling back through the comments on the video. People were analyzing everything—your body language, the way you laughed, the way Drew looked at you like you were the only person on that carpet.
• “No, but seriously, he’s into her, right? RIGHT?!” • “I’m not saying they have chemistry, but they have CHEMISTRY.” • “Lord when is it my turn.”
You exhaled sharply, setting your phone down with more force than necessary. Your thoughts raced as you paced the small living room, the memory of Drew’s gaze replaying in your mind like a broken record. Was it all in your head? The playful teasing, the subtle almost-touches, the way his smile had softened just before he walked away?
It was his job to charm people. He did this all the time. And yet…
You couldn’t ignore the warmth in his eyes when he’d said, “You’re good at this,” or the way his hand had lingered just a second too long when it brushed against yours. It hadn’t felt like part of the act—it had felt real.
And now the whole world had noticed, too.
You sat back on the couch, groaning softly as you buried your face in your hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you muttered, though no one was there to answer.
Your phone buzzed again, another wave of comments flooding in. This was going to be a long week.
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago
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hey for forced marriage can u do smth w like Rafe and reader being intimate and yk doing it (ik u don’t write smut) but like the aftermath of it and they walk down and sees readers brothers there and they heard everything 😭😭
Unexpected audience || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: LMAO I LOVE THIS
Warnings: suggestive content in the beginning
Word count: 1,846
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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The late afternoon sun cast golden streaks through the wide bay windows of the estate’s master bedroom. The luxurious room, with its ornate furniture and heavy velvet curtains, was a picture of elegance—except for the tousled state of the bed, the tangled sheets, and the discarded clothing strewn haphazardly across the floor.
You lay sprawled on your back, the ache in your legs a sharp reminder of the events earlier. Your breathing was finally evening out, but your skin still carried the warmth of Rafe’s touch. He lounged beside you, propped up on one elbow, a smug, self-satisfied grin plastered across his face.
“You’re quiet,” Rafe teased, brushing his fingers lazily over your bare shoulder. His voice held that signature cockiness that both infuriated and, to your dismay, enticed you. You turned your head to glare at him, but the expression lacked its usual bite. “Don’t start,” you muttered, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face.
“What?” he said, feigning innocence, though the wicked gleam in his blue eyes gave him away. “Can’t I check on my wife after thoroughly—”“Rafe!” you interrupted, throwing a pillow at him, which he easily dodged. He chuckled, catching your wrist and pulling you closer.
His lips brushed against your temple as he murmured, “I’m just saying, I think we set a new record. That was impressive, even for us.” You groaned, pushing against his chest as you sat up, wincing slightly. Your thighs burned, and your body felt like it had been through a rigorous workout.
“Yeah, well, now I’m paying for it,” you grumbled, tugging the sheets around yourself as you stood. Rafe’s eyes trailed down your body shamelessly, his grin widening as he leaned back against the headboard, hands clasped behind his head. “A little sore, huh? I guess I got carried away.”
You glared at him, though your cheeks burned and your lips twitched upward. “Carried away? You were like a damn animal.” “And you loved every second of it,” he countered smugly. You huffed, wrapping yourself in a silk robe and shooting him a withering look as you attempted to walk toward the door.
Attempted being the keyword—your legs wobbled, forcing you to steady yourself against the dresser. “Need some help?” Rafe teased, casually pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. “No,” you snapped, tucking your hair behind your ears with an irritated huff as you pushed toward the door. Rafe trailed behind, his amused gaze lingering on your slight limp.
You catch sight of his expression through the mirrors in the hallway. “You don’t have to look so smug,” you muttered over your shoulder as you descended the grand staircase. “Oh, but I do,” he replied, his voice dripping with amusement. “Especially since you’re walking like that.”
You shot him a warning look, but before you could retort, your eyes landed on the living room. There, sitting stiffly on the elegant leather couch, were your brothers—William and Edward. They looked up at the sound of your footsteps, their faces betraying a mix of discomfort and barely concealed horror.
Your heart sank as realisation dawned, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “Oh… my god,” you whispered, frozen in place. Rafe, of course, was anything but mortified. Instead, his smirk grew wider, and he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as if to emphasise his claim on you. “Afternoon, gentlemen,” he drawled, his tone laced with that infuriating confidence.
Neither William nor Edward said a word at first, their eyes darting between the two of you. It was William who finally broke the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We, uh… didn’t realise you were… busy.” Your cheeks flamed. “How long have you been here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Edward, always the more vocal of the two, leaned forward with a sharp glare.
“The whole time,” he said flatly. “And believe me, we didn’t have a choice.” You felt like the floor might swallow you whole. “Oh my god.” Rafe’s hand tightened on your waist, his smirk widening. “Well, this is awkward.” “Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Edward snapped, his jaw tightening.
“Do you two even realise how loud you were? The whole bloody house could hear you,” he added, his voice dripping with frustration. You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kill me now,” you muttered, mortified beyond belief. Rafe, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. “Come on now,” he said smoothly, his tone light. “Don’t exaggerate. It wasn’t that loud.”
“Jesus Christ,” William muttered, throwing his head back against the couch as he rubbed his temples. Edward, meanwhile, avoided your gaze entirely. Rafe wasn’t finished. “Why should she be embarrassed?” he asked, his smugness palpable. “She was just… enjoying herself. Right, sweetheart?”
Your head snapped toward him, your hand connecting with his chest in a firm smack “Rafe!” William raised a hand, cutting off whatever Rafe was about to say next. “Please, for the love of god, stop. We don’t need details like that of our little sister.” Your face burned hotter, and you glared up at Rafe, who was grinning. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
Rafe shrugged, his grin unrelenting. “A little.” You huffed, tightening the belt of your robe as you crossed your arms. “Why are you even here?” you asked sharply, surprising yourself with your tone. “And why aren’t you in the drawing room? Anita would have told you to wait there.”
William’s brows shot up, and Edward blinked. “We were sitting there for ages,” Edward finally said, his tone dry. “So?” you shot back, unimpressed. William and Edward exchanged a look before Edward sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could we maybe go somewhere else to speak?” he offered.
You nodded quickly, desperate to escape the tension. “Fine. The study,” you said, already turning on your heel and heading for the door. As you walked, you caught snippets of their conversation. “I told you we should have just left,” William muttered, his tone sharp. Edward rolled his eyes. “Let it go, William.” But William wasn’t done.
“No, seriously,” he said, his voice louder this time. “The entire house could hear you two. It’s not exactly something we wanted to sit through.” You whipped around, glaring at him over your shoulder. “You think I wanted this either?!” William rolls his eyes, shaking his head as you turn your head back around. “This is the worst day of my life,” you mumbled to Rafe who was beside you.
He, of course, was unfazed. “Relax,” he said with a shrug. “We’re married. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.”William, hearing your conversation, spoke up. “Just because it’s not wrong doesn’t mean we want to hear it!” Before you could respond, Edward interjected, his tone more conciliatory. “Alright, enough. Let’s just… get to the study.”
He glanced at you with a small, apologetic smile, but you could still see the discomfort in his eyes. As you entered the study, you shot one final glare at Rafe, who looked far too pleased with himself. “You’re insufferable,” you hissed under your breath.
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lizziesangel · 1 day ago
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AN ANGSTY ASS REQUEST, I wanna cry and I know you are gonna do amazing. Love your writing. Kind of backstory: So.....Reader is the love of Rafe’s life and the only person who has shown him kindness and given him affection. They are kidnapped for some reason, perhaps kept on a boat, and she falls overboard. Rafe escapes. A BODY (not hers, but can’t be certain) gets washed up at some point and she is determined to be dead. So just kind of as back story....you don't need to write that part if you don't want to <3 So present/and well....the request really: Funeral is held and everything. He is walking around for about 2 months, mourning her, being an ABSOLUTE WRECK. He has nightmares constantly about her and when he’s awake, she haunts him still. He is drinking all the time because he can’t cope. UNKNOWN……she survived but was still held captive. She manages to escape and breaks into his house. HE THINKS HE IS OUT OF HIS MIND, DRUNK but it’s such a teary felt reunion when he realizes that she’s real. Maybe he gives her a bath (cus lets be real) and takes care of her (and again, let's be real, she is probably really weak) and is just shaking with relief, happiness and is so soft with her :(
wow, this is such an amazing request, i absolutely love this!!
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the salty air was sharp and cold, biting against your skin as the boat rocked beneath your feet. it wasn’t the gentle sway of a calm ocean—it was erratic, violent, as if the sea itself mirrored the chaos that had unfolded in the past few hours.
rafe’s face was bloodied, his lip split and bruises already blooming along his jaw. his wrists were bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his skin as he struggled against them. he was glaring at the men surrounding him, his usual cocky bravado barely masking the sheer terror in his eyes.
“look,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous, though it cracked with desperation, “you’ve got me. i’ll get you your money. just let her go. she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
one of the men, a grizzled figure with a jagged scar running down his cheek, barked out a laugh. “you don’t get it, do you? you think you can screw us over and just walk away? nah.
“you’re gonna feel what it’s like to lose everything.”
the words sent a shiver down your spine. you’d known rafe’s life wasn’t clean—he carried the weight of bad decisions and even worse company—but you never thought it would come to this. the fear in his eyes, barely veiled beneath his fury, was enough to make your heart clench.
“please,” you interjected, your voice trembling as you stepped closer. “please, just let us go. we won’t—”
the sharp crack of a slap silenced you, the force of it sending you stumbling back. rafe surged forward, his shout of rage muffled by the gag they shoved into his mouth.
“enough talking,” the scarred man said coldly. “you want to play the hero, cameron? let’s see how much you care about her.”
before you could react, multiple strong hands grabbed your arms. you thrashed against them, your heart pounding as you looked back at rafe. his eyes were wild, his muffled cries growing frantic as the men dragged you toward the edge of the boat.
“no!” you screamed, your voice raw as the dark water loomed closer. the waves were fierce, crashing against the sides of the vessel, the moonlight glinting off their surface like shards of broken glass.
“rafe!” you cried, your voice breaking.
he was struggling so hard now that blood began to seep from where the ropes cut into his wrists. his muffled shouts were desperate, pleading.
“throw her over,” the scarred man commanded.
“no! please—” you begged, but it was too late.
the cold hit you like a thousand needles, stealing the air from your lungs as you plunged into the frigid ocean. the world above became muffled, the boat a distant silhouette against the black sky as you were swallowed by the waves. you fought to stay afloat, the current pulling at you like unseen hands.
above, rafe was a man undone. he thrashed violently, his screams muffled and his face twisted in agony. “let me go! i’ll kill you! i’ll kill you!” the men barely paid him any mind as they turned the boat, leaving the spot where you disappeared into the water.
“you better hope she’s a good swimmer, cameron,” the scarred man sneered. “and you’d better figure out how to pay us back.”
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the funeral rafe held was a quiet affair, not because you deserved anything less, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being a spectacle. the small, secluded chapel was filled with the scent of lilies and a suffocating weight of sorrow. he sat in the front row, shoulders hunched, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the pew.
he couldn’t look at the casket, though it was empty.
the minister’s words were hollow, background noise to the storm raging inside him. “a kind soul, taken too soon…” “beloved by all who knew her…” every word made his chest ache. rafe clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to break down in front of the small group of mourners.
afterward, when the empty coffin was lowered into the ground, he stood motionless, staring at the fresh mound of earth. a few people offered condolences, their words shallow and meaningless. he didn’t respond, barely even acknowledged them. what could they say? no words could bring you back.
once everyone left, rafe stayed behind. minutes turned into hours as he sat on the damp grass, staring at the grave as though he could will it to undo itself. he whispered apologies to the air, his voice breaking. “i should’ve done something. i should’ve stopped them. i’m so sorry, my baby.”
the days that followed bled together into a haze of grief and self-loathing.
rafe couldn’t stand being at home. every corner of the house reminded him of you. the couch where you’d curled up with a blanket and a book, the kitchen where you’d danced with him to music only the two of you could hear—it was all too much. he turned to the only thing that numbed the pain: alcohol.
whiskey became his constant companion, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart. he barely ate, barely slept. the nightmares wouldn’t let him. every time he closed his eyes, he saw you falling, the cold water dragging you under while he screamed your name. he’d wake up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, the echo of your voice fading into silence.
he stopped answering his phone. friends tried to check in on him, but he pushed them away. he couldn’t face their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of them telling him to “move on.”
how could he move on when the love of his life was gone?
the two-month mark came and went, and rafe was a shadow of the man he used to be. his once meticulously styled hair was unkempt, his clothes rumpled, his face hollow from lack of sleep and too many sleepless nights spent drowning in liquor.
he spent most of his days wandering aimlessly, haunted by memories of you. he would catch glimpses of you everywhere—in the stranger who had your laugh, in the perfume that smelled like yours. his heart would leap, only to crash when he realized it wasn’t you.
one evening, he found himself on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore. he sank into the sand, letting the cold wind whip against his face. he stared at the horizon, the sun dipping below the water in a blaze of gold and crimson.
“i don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered to the empty expanse of ocean. his voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief crushing him.
for rafe, the world had stopped the moment you disappeared. time dragged on, but he remained frozen, lost in a limbo of regret and longing. he didn’t know if he could survive without you.
he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.
his nightmares were relentless. every second he closed his eyes, he was back on that boat, watching helplessly as you were thrown overboard. the icy waves swallowed you, your desperate cries for help echoing in his ears. he’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he reached out for you in the darkness—only to find cold sheets and empty space.
you weren’t there, and the realization gutted him every time.
the only way he knew how to cope was to drown himself in alcohol. bottles littered the floor of his house, their contents his only escape from the crushing weight of his grief. the whiskey blurred the edges of his pain, but it never truly numbed it. instead, it left him hollow, stumbling through a life that felt meaningless without you.
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the storm outside was fierce, rain pelting against the windows and wind howling like a wounded animal. rafe sat slumped on the couch, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. he stared blankly at the television, though he wasn’t watching it. the sound was muted, the images flickering across the screen as if mocking his apathy.
the sharp sound of glass shattering upstairs jolted him from his stupor. for a moment, he froze, his foggy mind struggling to process it. he shook his head, muttering to himself, “you’re losing it, rafe.”
but then he heard it again—a faint creak of floorboards. His heart began to race, adrenaline cutting through the haze of alcohol. grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon, he stumbled toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.
he pushed open the bedroom door, his breath hitching at what he saw.
you were there.
at first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind. you stood by the window, your body bruised, your clothes torn and soaked from the rain. your hair was a tangled mess, your face pale and gaunt, but it was you.
“rafe…” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.
“n... no,” he muttered, shaking his head. his grip on the lamp tightened. “you’re not real. you’re not—”
“i am,” you interrupted, taking a shaky step toward him. “i got away. i—i’m here.”
the lamp fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. when your knees buckled, he lunged forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.
the moment your weight fell into his arms, he knew. you were real.
a sob broke from his throat as he held you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides as if afraid you’d disappear again. “you’re alive,” he choked out, his voice raw. “oh, my God, you’re alive.”
“i am,” you murmured weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. “i am.”
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rafe carried you to the bathroom, his arms trembling with relief and adrenaline. he set you down on the edge of the tub, his hands shaking as he turned on the water, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn’t too hot.
“i... i need to—you need to get cleaned up,” he said, his voice unsteady. he avoided your eyes, his movements jerky and unsure. “you’re freezing. God, you’re so cold.”
you didn’t protest, too weak and tired to do much more than nod. he helped you out of your soaked clothes, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness.
once the tub was filled, he eased you into the warm water, his heart breaking at the way you winced. he knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed away the grime and salt from your skin. his hands trembled as they ran through your hair, untangling the knots with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.
“i thought i lost you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought you were gone forever.”
“i almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.
tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your damp hair. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not letting you go again. i promise.”
after the bath, rafe wrapped you in the softest towel he could find and carried you to his bed. he brought you water, food, anything you might need, though you barely managed a few bites. he sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.
that night, for the first time in months, he didn’t have nightmares. Instead, he fell asleep with you in his arms, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound he needed to finally find peace.
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CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚。⋆
@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey
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nativegirltapes · 2 days ago
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angel being sick and super dramatic, but doesn't want drew to take care of her since he's got work :D (i'm so sick rn help i need thissss)
warnings/notes: hope you’re feeling better baby! <3 angel isn’t that dramatic in this, but hope you still enjoy.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ 🧁 ᡣ𐭩
no matter how much you told drew to stay away, he didn’t listen. he told you it was fine if he took a few days off to stay home with you, and since your current condition, practically bedridden, you didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it.
you’d been up sneezing and coughing all night long, and the cherry on top was when you went to drew’s bathroom you realized you ran out of your medicine. drew heard a mumbled “fuck,” come from the bathroom.
before you knew it, he was standing in the door, his sweats hanging low on his waist, rubbing his eyes from the bright bathroom light. “everything okay baby?”
“i ran out of medicine.” you groaned. god you hated being sick, it hurt to even walk back to drew’s bed. “sorry for waking you up.”
“you didn’t wake me. do you need me to run?” drew questioned. you looked at your phone, the time read 1:12am. “are you crazy? it’s 1am drew.” you slowly made your way back to the bed. “so? cvs is still open.”
“plus, we don’t want the baby to stay sick.” he wrapped his arms around your stomach, a big pout took over his lips. the only good thing about being sick was how much drew babied you. you shoved him away. “i told you don’t come near me. i don’t want you sick too.”
“baby i’ll be fine.” he wrapped his arms around you again. “plus don’t act like you weren’t all over me last night anyways.”
“you’re annoying.” you groan. “carry me back to bed?”
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edwardslvrr · 2 days ago
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PACKING IT UP ⌗ rafe cameron part 11
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౨ৎ hockeyplayer!rafecameron x sportsjournalism!reader
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the one where rafe cameron is the captain of the hockey team at university and where reader is a sports journalism student and needs to follow the hockey team around for the season and has the captain wrapped around her finger in no time
taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post
warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо
main masterlist ౨ৎ rafe masterlist ౨ৎ 𝒕𝒆𝒏 ౨ৎ 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆
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🏒 ﹒☆﹒ new twitter post
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💌 ﹒☆﹒ yourname! ✿
new youtube video has been published
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💌 ﹒☆﹒ your phone
new message notification from ‘rafe ☺️’
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🏒 ﹒☆﹒ new twitter post
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🏒 ﹒☆﹒ new twitter post
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📓 ﹒☆﹒ your notebook
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💌 ﹒☆﹒ your phone
new notes saved
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edwardslvrr talks - i love rafe
taglist - @mbella607 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @judesgfirl @4vanaa @lilithblackkk @kulekehe @akobx @barnesboo1967 @charli123456789 @fruitcakerafe @malibuhearts @heartsforrafecam @mrsdrewstarkeyy @f4irywor1d @flirtism @marleymarleymarleymarley @acidfeens @daysis-stuff @auroramadelyn @pogueprincesa @dreamybabbyy @inthelibrarybtw @rafesdrew @laniirackssss @my-name-is-baby @justdamnpeachy
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aliyahwritings · 1 day ago
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RAFE CAMERON and his DESI!GIRLFRIEND
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masterlist.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who complains when you first show him Bollywood movies about how long they are, but ends up more interested than you (he cried during K3G because of his daddy issues).
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who gets laughed at when he first met your family because his eyes were getting teary when eating your mum's food. With time though, he became used to it and can handle it better... until he tastes your grandma's food and it's over for him.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who didn't get to see you with your hair oiled up in the beginning of your relationship because you were scared the scent would be too much for him, but it has now become a routine. He literally drives you to your mom's for your usual head/hair oil massage, and watches intently how your mama does it, so he can do it for you later (that's so husband coded of him omggg).
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who watches you with unwavering attention every time you get ready, mesmerized by the way your bangles slide down your wrists and the soft clinking sound they make. His gaze lingers as you adjust your dupatta, taking his time to memorize every delicate movement.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's obsessed with the feel of your bangles against his skin—when your hands trail over his chest or cup his face, the cold metal pressing into his warm skin. Sometimes, he holds your wrist just to play with them absentmindedly, rolling each bangle between his fingers like it’s his favorite toy.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who secretly practices pronouncing your full name in the mirror until he gets it right, savoring the way it rolls off his tongue. He knows how much it means to you, and when he says it perfectly in front of your family, the proud smile you give him makes every attempt worth it.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who always makes an effort to wear traditional fits when it matters, showing up in kurtas that hug his frame perfectly. He stands out, but in the best way—earning approving nods from the uncles and heart-eyed stares from the aunties who pull you aside just to say how lucky you are.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who thrives during family gatherings, blending in like he was meant to be there all along. The aunties dote on him endlessly, praising him for helping with the decorations or carrying heavy boxes during wedding prep. The uncles offer him drinks, impressed by how quickly he’s learned to fit into the chaos. He doesn’t even blink when the music starts and you’re pulled into the center of the room to dance. Instead, he watches, leaning against the wall with a soft smile, arms crossed over his chest as he admires the way you glow in your element.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who never complains when you drag him to fabric shops or markets, even if you spend hours picking out the right color or embroidery. He stands patiently by your side, occasionally giving his opinion but mostly just watching how excited you get. He'll sneak up behind you, whispering how stunning you’d look in everything. More than once, he’s slipped away to quietly pay for the set you were eyeing, only for you to find it in a little box on your bed later that night.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's become so used to you calling him pagal (crazy/idiot) that he's started using it with his friends.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who learned how to drape your sari. Did it take him a while? Yes, but that doesn't count. He knows where to make the folds and where to tuck in the fabric, and that's enough for you. He even starts buying you new ones because of how beautiful you look in them.
MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's very committed to his bit (dance) and practices for days and days. He would act as if he's just doing it for your family and that's it's nothing, but you know he loves it.
BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who turns into Nick Jonas for real!!! He's not complaining once about the amount of ceremonies there is. He's in awe of your culture and that's all.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who, after the wedding, is constantly making sure you’re okay. He holds your hand tightly in the car, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, always asking if you’re comfortable, if you need anything. Even on your honeymoon, when it’s just the two of you, he still can’t stop marveling at how lucky he is to have you.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who spoils you relentlessly. He doesn’t care if you insist he doesn’t have to—flowers arrive at your doorstep every week, jewelry boxes sit on your dresser, and he’s constantly booking spontaneous weekend getaways just because. When you scold him for spending too much, he kisses your forehead and brushes it off.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who keeps your wedding photo framed on his desk. He’ll sit and stare at it during late nights at work, running his thumb over the glass while thinking about how much he misses you. He counts down the minutes until he can come home, and when he finally does, he’s pulling you into his lap the second you greet him.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who brings home little things that remind him of you. If he spots bangles, dupattas, or anything embroidered with colors you love, he’s buying it without hesitation. Sometimes he gets the sizes wrong, but the effort makes you melt every time.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who’s absolutely soft when it’s just the two of you. His tough, cocky exterior melts the second you’re alone. He’ll wrap himself around you, burying his face in your neck as you stroke his hair. He’s happiest when he’s in bed with you, legs tangled together under the covers, whispering about how he’s never letting you go.
HUSBAND!RAFE ... who always keeps his promises. No matter how chaotic life gets, he’s there—by your side, unwavering in his love and loyalty.
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rana030 · 1 day ago
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dulcescorderitas · 8 hours ago
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𝓳𝓾𝓶𝓹𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮
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author's note: im going to stand by my man 🙂‍↕️
you stroll into the living room, heart thudding as drew turns to face you, his newly blonde hair catching the afternoon light. his eyebrows match the pale shade, and for a moment, you’re struck silent, eyes widening in a knee-jerk reaction that escapes your control.
“oh my god,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, a cocktail of shock and disbelief lacing your words.
drew’s face falls slightly, a mixture of hurt and amusement flickering in his blue eyes. he tilts his head, those blond brows rising. “yeah, not what you were expecting?”
“i’m sorry!” you rush to say, stepping closer, trying to backtrack the offense. “i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just... different.”
his chuckle is light, but you catch the tinge of unease in it. “it’s for the role,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i thought you’d know.”
you bite your lip, guilt swelling. he looks like a goddamn angel—albeit a surprising one—and here you are, making him feel self-conscious. “it’s just... a surprise, that’s all. you still look good. i swear.”
drew crosses his arms, leaning against the back of the couch, clearly not convinced. the golden strands catch the light, framing his face in a halo-like glow. and those brows, lighter than usual, change his expression entirely. he looks ethereal. different, yes. but still breathtaking.
an idea flickers in your mind, bold and reparative. you step into his space, fingers brushing his, eyes locking onto his with a smirk that softens into something sultry. “let me make it up to you,” you murmur, voice dropping into a lower, more intimate register.
his brow furrows in curiosity, the defensiveness in his stance melting slightly. “make it up to me how?”
your hands trail up his chest, fingers tracing the planes of muscle beneath his shirt. “by showing you exactly how much i like it,” you purr, pressing a kiss to his jawline, your lips trailing toward his ear. “i want to taste every inch of you.”
his breath hitches at the suggestion, his hands moving to rest on your hips instinctively. “you sure about that?” he murmurs, his voice a shade darker now.
you nod, pulling him down to sit on the couch, positioning yourself between his knees. the grin you offer is wicked, eyes never leaving his as your fingers work the button of his jeans, slipping them down with a fluid ease. his cock, already stirring beneath the fabric of his boxers, presses against the confines, eager and ready.
as you free him, you take a moment to admire him, your lips parting slightly in anticipation. the sight of him, blond and beautifully flushed, fuels your desire. without a word, you lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the head, savoring the salty bead of pre-cum there. his groan of approval sends a shiver through you, urging you on.
you take him in slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him. your tongue dances along the underside, swirling around the sensitive tip as you hollow your cheeks, creating a delicious suction. drew’s hand tangles in your hair, his hips lifting slightly as he seeks more of the bliss you’re offering.
his moans grow louder, his grip tightening as you take him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate him. the blonde strands framing his face are damp with sweat, his expression twisted in pleasure as you worship him with every flick of your tongue, every hungry suck. you want to see him undone, reduced to nothing but a quivering mess beneath your ministrations.
“fuck, you’re so good at this,” he breathes, voice strained with need. his hips thrust gently, meeting your rhythm as you take him even deeper, letting him feel the back of your throat.
the sound of your name on his lips, broken and gasping, pushes you further, your hands squeezing his thighs as you bob your head, creating a symphony of wet, filthy noises. drew’s body tenses, his moans reaching a fever pitch as he teeters on the edge of release.
“i’m gonna—” his words are cut off as he shudders, spilling hot and heavy down your throat. you swallow eagerly, savoring every drop, your eyes locked onto his as he rides out his orgasm, his body wracked with aftershocks.
when you finally pull back, you lick your lips, wiping away a stray bead with your thumb as you grin up at him. “blonde suits you,” you tease, your voice a husky whisper, filled with satisfaction.
drew’s laugh is breathless, his eyes shining with affection and residual pleasure. “you’re something else,” he mutters, pulling you up into his lap, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
“just making it up to you,” you whisper against his mouth, already feeling the stirrings of something more beneath you, the promise of another round.
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totalswag · 20 hours ago
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Hey girl so I was wanting more dad drew and I was wondering if you could do something like where Tatum is like a teenager and her personality is a lot like her moms which causes them to buttheads sometimes, and in one argument Tatum says some hurtful thing to her mom making her mom cry so drew had to have a talk with her. You can add Leo to idk I was just kinda thinking but besides the point I love your work and I think your amazing keep up the great work girl love ya
teen tension ⎯ DREW STARKEY
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authors note stop i miss writing dad!drew, one of my favorites. tatum as a teenager is a mixture of both parents. thank you so much for the kind words it really means a lot. happy new year everyone, i hope you all had a fun and safe night <3
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summary tatum, your oldest, says a few hurtful words to you that make you cry. drew has a conversation with tatum about what she did to you.
warning(s) arguments, crying, child + parent arguing.
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Tatum is very much like you when you were a teenager. Moments during the week where you two buttheads about certain things that are typical for a mom and daughters to "argue" about.
However, tonight took a turn for the worse. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table finishing up dinner. It had been a long day at work for Drew and you been home cleaning the house.
Leo was talking about how his day went—recently, Leo, has gotten into basketball and wanted to try out for the school. Drew and you were excited to hear the news and encouraged Leo to try out.
"Tatum, could you kindly get off your phone? "Your brother is talking," you say aloud, attracting her attention as you point to Leo, who has stopped talking.
Tatum rolls her eyes and sets her phone on the table beside her dish. "You can put it on the counter please."
"Why can't I leave it next to me?" She gives you an attitude, "We are sitting at the dinner table eating, and none of us have our phones next to us," your tone remains casual but firm.
"Leo can still talk and I won't be on my phone" crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to move her phone from the table.
Before Tatum can finish speaking, Drew cuts her off with a clear and serious voice and says, "Tatum, watch your tone and listen to your mom." 
Tatum groans loudly, pushes her chair out, picks up her phone, walks to the kitchen, and puts it down after rolling her eyes in frustration.
"There look you happy mom?" Tatum mumbles "so dumb" under her breath as she emphasizes with her palms raised.
You hear her say, "It's not stupid, Tatum." We've had this regulation in place for a very long time, so I don't see why everyone is acting this way—" Tatum slams her hand on the table and interrupts you in the middle of your statement. 
"Please, Mom, just shut up already. I'm tired of you being irritating these past few days—" "Tatum Ann Starkey you will not speak to your mom like that, ever!" Drew abruptly interrupts her, throwing his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. He gestures for her to "go up to your room now," and Tatum gives him a terrified face.
The corners of your eyes well up with tears. Leo comes running to you and gives you utter comfort. You are wondering why Tatum has suddenly started acting this way.
Leo hugs you close to him and says in your ear, "You are the best mom ever, mom. You did nothing wrong."
"Thank you baby."
"Leo, while I comfort your mother, could you please return the little condiments to their proper places? "Thank you, buddy," Drew says to Leo, who nods and follows instructions.
"Are you okay baby?" Drew asks, crouching down and placing both hands on your knees, looking at you with concern. 
"I'm fine, just confused as to why she's acting this way towards me," you say gently, sniffling.
Drew and you begin discussing what has just occurred. Drew was not pleased with Tatum's actions toward you, her mother. You do so lot for this family, and Tatum does not need to vent her frustration on you.
Drew soothed you in every manner conceivable, making you feel more at peace about yourself—he's the best thing that has ever happened to you. The sound of his words made you relax, and tears streamed down your cheeks.
"I'm gonna have a talk with her upstairs," he pauses, "I love you."
You give him a soft smile, pulling the front strained away from your face—leaning forward in your chair, thinking what just happened. So many thoughts running through your head.
Drew knocked on Tatum's bedroom door, and you knew he was going to give her a big lecture on how to communicate with your parents. You've discussed this with both of your children numerous times.
Leo walks into the living room with a bowl of ice cream for himself and you—he's always been a momma's boy. Leo brings you the bowl and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Thank you, Leo," you say, throwing your free arm around him and drawing him into a side embrace. 
"Of course mom, I love you."
After five minutes, Tatum and Drew come downstairs. Drew muttered something to Tatum before elbowing her toward you. Leo moves from the couch to wherever Drew is in the home.
As she settles on the couch beside you, Tatum sighs—crisscross apple sauce. "Mom I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you at the dinner table," she says after a little pause. "I shouldn't spoken to you like that."
You take in Tatum's words, "I forgive you, Tatum. What you said to me really hurt," Tatum lets a tear fall from her cheek, "be cautious with your words, darling, I love you," taking her in for a loving, lengthy hug.
You and Tatum unwind in each other's arms while letting the tears flow. Tatum reiterated the same words to you: "I love you, mom, and I apologize." Regardless of how you argue, you will always adore your children.
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princess-luvvv · 21 hours ago
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A GOLD RING AND COLD FEET
Rafe Cameron x fem!exgirlfriend!reader
A/N: (This is lowk 4.3k words I’m sorry) Hey guys lol I literally do not know what I’m doing help. I did not proofread idek how to work this app so if this sucks just don’t tell me bc this thing is the biggest pain in the ass lol. Like I am so genuinely sorry I’m such a grandma. Also this is what I listened to while writing this so feel free to listen as well :)
WARNINGS: AUTHOR CANT FIGURE THIS APP OUT, there’s no smut (not going to traumatize you guys with my brain on the first post), girl reader, marriage (basically the whole theme), cheating (sort of from reader but like it’s fine), ermmm just bad writing im sorry lol. Just a man yearning (like good). Okay Im sorry byeee.
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14 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE BRIDAL SHOWER
Rafe Cameron was going to be the death of me. I knew it.
We had dated for 7 years. He asked me out when we were 14 after knowing each other since we were 6. He broke up with me when we were 21. He said he “couldn’t be tied down in his 20s”.
After that I thought I was completely broken. I had never even imagined loving anyone else - having to love someone else.
But here I was. 14 days away from my wedding to a man I didn’t love. A part of me felt like such an asshole. Marrying a man who I knew I’d never love. But Jackson had his faults. He raised his voice too much. He never opened my door…not since our third date at least. He worked all the time. He regularly forgot important events like anniversaries and birthdays.
We started dating 10 months, 1 week, and 4 days after Rafe broke up with me.
Even though most people said it was time to move on it still felt too soon to me. 3 years later and it still feels too soon sometimes.
But here I am. At my bridal shower. Wearing a silver ring when I haven’t touched a piece of silver jewelry since I was 9.
I was opening gifts when only one remained. A small black box with no tag attached.
“Who is this one from?” I ask the crowd of giddy women surrounding me. They all share confused looks. Shrugging and comments like “It’s not mine” falling from their lips. This only furthered my confusion as I opened the box.
I gasped.
Inside was a beautiful - gold - ring. It was my dream ring.
“Oh my gosh it’s just beautiful!” My best friend Grace said.
“Jackson must have picked it out for you since yours is missing.” Grace says causing me to furrow my brows.
I looked down to my left hand and noticed the absence of my ring.
Since when was that gone?
“Oh yeah…I guess he did.” I smile and tuck the box away. Making a mental note to ask Jackson later. Even though I knew he didn’t get it for me, a part of me hoped.
As my friends went on and on about how beautiful this wedding would be and how happy they were…I couldn’t help but wish their joy was infectious.
At least someone is excited right?
12 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: BACHELORETTE
I was sitting in an expensive restaurant in downtown Charleston sipping a cocktail I’m pretty sure costs more than my salad. Jackson and I had decided to have our Bachelorette/Bachelor parties in the same city in case anything happened. He was out having a guys night while I was out with my girls. I hadn’t had this much fun doing anything wedding related well ever.
“It’s not a coincidence that you think that and Jackson isn’t here” a little voice inside my brain taunts me. But I push it down. Along with the bile rising in my throat. From the alcohol or the impending commitment of forever to a person who I know I don’t love - which, I’m not sure.
“How are you babe?” My friend Ava says as she turns her entire body to face me. I was tracing shapes on the condensation on the outside of my barely touched drink while I tuned out the rest of the chatter.
“I’m wonderful how about you Ava?” I smile and meet her eye. She gives an unconvinced smile and repeats her question: “Come on. How are you really? Cold feet? We can get on the next flight out of America just say the word.” She says with a laugh. And I know she’s joking but part of me is screaming “YES!” Inside of my head.
I laugh and shake my head.
“No cold feet. Just lukewarm maybe.”
Lukewarm. It’s funny cause that’s basically a word that sums up the entirety of Jackson and I’s relationship. I hadn’t felt fire, sparks, passion…any of it. Not since-
“Lukewarm is okay. Marriage is big. But…you’ll be okay.” Ava says cutting off my thoughts. And I can see her trying to hide her real feelings. She wants me to talk to him. Not him. Him.
The him who left me in a hotel room in Key West on what was supposed to be our 8 year anniversary trip. The him who wouldn’t stop sending letters to my house. The him who sent me 127 texts and 87 voicemails since last Tuesday. Which is apparently the day the Cameron’s wedding invitation arrived. I wasn’t going to invite them but I felt I needed to. Sarah and I were still friends and I adored Wheezie. The him who took up every inch of my heart. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself he didn’t.
LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HOTEL…
I entered my private suite in the hotel. I had gotten my drunk pack of bridesmaids back to their rooms…well the ones that were sleeping in their own rooms tonight. I had my own room this trip. My bridesmaid Lila insisted on it in case Jackson wanted to sneak over from his hotel…that’s what she said. But I knew she secretly wanted to give me my space away from the wedding buzz and events. I was grateful for that.
Until I was not.
Because the second I opened my door and ripped off my crown that said “BRIDE” I looked up and saw a man sitting on the couch in the suites living room. His elbows resting on his large thighs as he hung his head.
He looks up when I walk in.
I should’ve been scared…but I knew exactly who it was.
I flicked on the light. “Rafe what- what are you doing here?” I say in half anger half disbelief. OBX was at least 7 hours from here.
What the hell was he thinking?
“I had to see you…” I shake my head as he stands up and walks towards me. I take a step back.
“No. No. You can’t do this to me.” He walks closer. I put out my hands. Placing them on his chest to keep distance between us.
“Please just hear me out….” He gently grips my wrists that are placed on his chest. He paused for a second. Looking into my eyes to see if I would stop him again. I let him continue.
“I know…I know I have no right to be here. No right to do this. But please just listen to what I have to say…” He sighed before continuing. “You can’t marry him. Baby you can’t….I’m begging you. He doesn’t treat you right. You know that. I have so many regrets in my life…but I’d live them all over a million times if it meant I never let you go. I regret that every breath I take.”
My eyes gloss over. His touch was so gentle unlike Jackson’s. He didn’t raise his voice at me. He didn’t do anything but love me exactly the way I wanted while also being everything I needed.
He sighs seeing my eyes tear up. “Baby don’t- don’t cry….it’s just-….I can tell you’re not happy.” He says as he wipes a tear that escaped my eyes.
“I-I’m happy…” I say weakly.
But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Me or him?
He sighs. Bringing a hand up to my cheek to wipe away another tear. His hand not moving. “You’re not. I can see it. I know you…I see it in your face when you look at him. Those beautiful eyes have never told me a lie.”
“You don’t know me anymore…” another lie. He knew me. He knew me. He knew my coffee order at every coffee shop on the island. He knew my favorite songs and the lyrics to all of them. He knew my favorite movie. He knew my favorite animal.
He laughs softly in disbelief.
“I don’t know you? I know you. I know your order at every Mexican restaurant on the island. I can recite your coffee orders in my sleep. I know every word to your favorite Taylor Swift songs. Your favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast and you love the soundtrack. You love penguins and you’re a dog person. I know you baby.”
I cry harder as he recites everything about me. On surface it’s not much. Small talk topics he could’ve figured out from social media. But it goes so much deeper. He knows what makes me tick. What I need when I’m sad. How to cheer me up even through tears.
If only he could do that now…
“Does that asshole even know your favorite Jane Austen book? Huh? Does he? Cause I do. And it’s Emm-“
“Stop! Just stop Rafe! Just- just go! Why-why are you doing this me? This isn’t fair.” I say wiping my tears. I was full on crying now.
“I can’t just sit back and watch you marry someone who’s not going to make you happy. You deserve so much better. You don’t deserve someone who’s never there for you, or doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated - like the woman I love. I know I was stupid to let you go. I was young - and I thought I wanted freedom, but I was wrong. I haven’t known a minute of freedom since you left. I miss you, I miss us. And I need you more than I need air to breathe…”
“Please. Don’t marry him. Please baby…” He’s begging now. I’ve never seen Rafe Cameron beg for anything.
“Rafe I’m-I’m getting married in 12 days I can’t-“ I cut myself off with a sob.
He pulls me against his chest. I don’t protest as I cry harder. Pretty much sobbing now.
I clutch onto the end of his shirt. “I have to marry him Rafe…”
“Why? Why do you have to marry him? You know this isn’t what you want.” He says pleading with me. Running a soothing hand up and down my back. Providing me more comfort than I’ve known all of my relationship with Jackson.
“I know.” I say softly. My voice hoarse.
“Then don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I made the wrong choice a few years ago, but I’m here now. I want you not some false pretense of freedom. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I can give you a ring that you actually like, and a house that we build together. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t marry him. Be with me.” I pause when he mentions the ring. I look down to the gold ring on my left hand. Silently piecing things together.
“Did you send me a new ring?” I look back up him. Brows furrowed. My face puffy from crying. When I meet his eyes I see how utterly heartbroken he looks. It breaks me a little bit.
“I-uh…yeah I did.” He says. And as he confirms my theory I step away from him. Letting out sobs as I turn my back towards him. One hand cradling my stomach as the other covers my mouth.
“Hey - hey what’s wrong. Talk to me.” He says as he walks up behind me placing a soothing hand on my shoulder letting his hands rub me gently.
“Y-you remembered the ring.” I had shown him the type of ring I wanted back when I thought we were going to get married.
I was so stupid at 20. Or maybe I was just naive.
“Of course I remembered the ring. You showed it to me a million times. I know it was your dream ring and I couldn’t bear the idea of him giving you something you didn’t actually want…” He explains with a confused expression. Not quite sure why it was hurting me so bad.
The thought that he had gotten me a ring I wanted even though he didn’t want me marrying Jackson made me want to cry…and vomit.
“I-I can’t-“ My legs give out and I drop to my knees. Rafe immediately goes down with me. Pulling me into his chest. I was now cradled in his lap as he rocked me gently while I cried.
“Please don’t cry baby….it hurts me so bad.”
That night I fell asleep in Rafes arms.
THIRD PERSON POV:
As Rafe brought her to her hotel bed and tucked her in he couldn’t help but feel the urge to get in bed and hold her as she slept. But he knew how awful she’d feel if she woke up next to him knowing she betrayed Jackson. So he left a note next to her bedside and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. The words “I love you” mumbled softly as she slept.
ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE NEXT MORNING.
THIRD PERSON POV:
As Jackson walks into the hotel room of his future wife he can’t help the guilt eating at him. He brings in the takeout bags and starts to place it onto a tray.
He takes out the water and Advil he got from the pharmacy and brings it over to her bedside.
As he’s placing the hangover cure on her nightstand a paper written on hotel stationery catches his eye.
He reads through the paper.
“All my love, R.C.”
He folds up the note and places it back in his pocket before going back to the takeout bags. Ready to act as if nothing happened.
FIRST PERSON POV
I wake up with an empty feeling in my stomach. The same one I’ve had for 3 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.
I hear someone walking around the suite and as much as I know it’s probably Jackson…a part of me hopes…
Seconds later Jackson comes into my room with a smile. Holding a tray of food.
Odd. He’s never done sweet gestures for me like this.
“Good morning my love…I thought this would help cure the hangover. I ordered breakfast from that place you like downtown. You always talk about how much you wish we had one back at home so…” As he explains his reasoning for being here the sick feeling grows in my stomach. And I wish it was hangover sickness. I felt like such crap. Here he was being so sweet to me and I cried in the arms of another man last night.
I look around the room for any evidence Rafe was here. Feeling slightly disappointed but relieved that I didn’t find anything.
“Have fun last night?” Jackson says as he picks a blueberry off my plate.
“Uh yeah….it was really fun.” I smile and lie. But he can’t tell the difference so he nods his head before getting up and kissing my forehead.
“Well I have to go into work early tomorrow so the guys and I are heading back home but…I love you.” He says. He rarely says those three words. And that itself wouldn’t be weird. We’re getting married of course we tell each other we love each other. But paired with the weird domestic wake-up I had this morning it left an icky feeling in my stomach. But I smiled and nodded. Swallowing my food before replying.
“Okay…love you too.”
TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY: THE REHEARSAL DINNER
“Have you seen my gold earrings?” I ask Jackson. Walking around our shared bathroom while he was shaving. We were getting ready for our rehearsal dinner before we left for the wedding venue in the morning.
“Which earrings?” He asks. Not pausing his movements of shaving his face.
“The ones I always-“ I huff in defeat knowing it’s no use. I’ve worn those earrings everyday for the past 9 years. They were Rafe’s 2 year anniversary gift to me.
I walk around the bedroom looking under a few things before my phone pings distracting me for a second. I walk over to it and turn the screen over to see an Instagram DM message request.
“Hey…I want to say I am so sorry to do this to you. I know you’re getting married in 2 days but there’s something you should know…”
THREE HOURS UNTIL WEDDING DAY: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING
I was pacing around the cabin of my private room on the property of our venue.
The venue was a family owned property on the mainland. It was gorgeous. Jackson was in the cabin across the venue in the Groom’s cabin. I was staying in the Bridal lodge.
I felt nauseous. My throat felt like it was closing and the white matching way too expensive PJ set I was gifted especially for tonight felt like it was constricting my air. The cabin suddenly felt stuffy and like the walls were about to close in at any minute. I was all alone.
I pull out my phone quickly going to the only number I had on speed dial.
He picks up on the first ring - he always does.
RAFES POV
The whole day I had been sulking at home watching football and drinking whiskey. My lab Daisy sitting by my side as she watched me drown my sorrows.
Was she really going to marry him?
I had dozed off for a few hours before a phone ringing woke me up.
I look at the screen and immediately picked up.
“I need you.” I was standing up running to my shoes before the sentence was even over.
“I’m coming baby…I’m on my way just stay put okay?” Her shaky voice was breaking my heart. I grabbed my keys and made an hour long drive less than 40 minutes.
FIRST PERSON POV
I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest. My eyes puffy and crying, sitting at the edge of the bed when Rafe barged in. He immediately dropped to his knees next to me. Pulling me into his lap. Cradling me as he rocked me back and forth.
“I’m here baby…I’m here.” He repeats the words like a mantra to ease my mind. And it does. But it doesn’t fill the pit in my stomach that seems to have taken a permanent residence.
“Talk to me baby…please you’re scaring me…” I could hear the fear in his voice. And I felt like such a dick. I called my ex boyfriend to help me the night before my wedding to another man.
I’m the worst.
“I-I’m so sorry….I didn’t know who else to call.” I get out between sobs. He shakes his head. Grabbing my face with both of his hands.
“Shhh….I just need you to tell me what you need. I’m right here. Just tell me how to help. Okay?”
How does he always know what to say? It’s ridiculous.
“I need out of this…” And at that sentence Rafe was pretty sure he could’ve cried a happy tear. But he needed to be sure.
“Out of what baby?” He knew. But he needed to know.
“You know what.” I pause before continuing. Sniffling and wiping my tears. “Jackson cheated on me. His bachelor party…she texted me the night our rehearsal dinner. She was their bartender in Charleston. But that’s not even the worst part…” I shake my head in disbelief at myself. “The worst part is I don’t even care. My fiancée cheated on me less than two weeks before our wedding. And I can’t find it in me to care.”
I knew I never loved Jackson. And that’s part of why I was marrying him. Because I knew that if I never loved him he’d never be able to hurt me…not like Rafe did at least.
I continue:
“I’m literally incapable of loving him because every inch of my heart belongs to you. And it kills me. I should be devastated right now. But- but all I can think is that I need you. And it’s so cold and you hate driving at night but this is the second time you’ve driven over an hour for me in two weeks.”
In reality it didn’t take Rafe an hour to get here. But he let me continue anyways.
“I’m terrible-“ He cuts me off.
“No. You’re perfect. I know you think you have to settle for this but you don’t. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be here. Whether or not you get married in 12 hours I’m always going to be there when you need me. I don’t care what it is or where you are. You call and I’m there. You need me…and I’m right here baby. I’ll always be right here. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”
I look at him as he says that. And suddenly nothing about this makes sense. Why am I getting married to Jackson?
He sucks.
I stand up. Grabbing Rafes hands pulling him up with me.
“We need to leave.” I look around the room at my things. Rafe immediately nods and starts packing my things into my suitcase with me.
“Where do you need to go? I’ll take you anywhere baby. Car? Train? Plane? Boat? Fuck I’ll swim across the Atlantic for you baby.”
I pause and glance up at him from across my suitcase that we’re both knelt over. I meet his gaze. His eyes show me nothing but seriousness. Standing 10 toes behind his words. I wrap an arm around his neck and place an arm on his shoulder to steady myself as I lean in and kiss him.
He’s so taken aback but he kisses back after realizing this isn’t another one of his dreams that have felt like nightmares these past 3 years.
I pull away and he slightly sighs at the disconnect.
“Anywhere that’s not here. Just need to be with you. Please.”
2 HOURS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AN HOUR LATER ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT
I look around the room once more to make sure I have everything.
“You got everything you need baby?” He asks me and I nod.
“I’m gonna take this to the car.” I was carrying my pillow and blanket I had brought. Rafe insisted on carrying my bags. He nods but stays in his place before speaking up.
“Okay I’ll be there in a second I’m gonna take one last look around.” I nod before walking to his truck and getting inside.
THIRD PERSON POV:
Rafe pulls the object out of his pocket. Placing it on the dresser.
He grabs her bags taking one last look at the wedding dress hanging on the closet door before shutting the door behind him.
The silver ring shimmering in the moonlight sitting on the dresser where he left it.
FIRST PERSON POV
Rafe gets back in the car and looks over at me.
“If you change your mind I don’t mind-“ I cut him off.
“I’m not changing my mind. Now drive.” He smiles before putting the truck in reverse.
As we drive for a few minutes a question plagues my mind: Why didn’t he say anything the morning after the bachelorette party?
“Can I ask you something?” He glances over at me. He had a comforting hand on my thigh as he drove.
“Anything.” I smile at his answer while look at my lap before continuing.
“Why didn’t you say anything the morning after that night in Charleston? Not a text or a note or anything? I know you didn’t have to I just…hated waking up with no evidence that you had even been there.” Rafe’s brows furrow.
I did leave a note. He thought to himself.
“Baby I left a note on your dresser…didn’t you see it?” He says confused.
“No…the next morning I woke up and Jackson was…” I trailed off. Suddenly piecing everything together. Rafe seemed to as well. His grip on the wheel tightened and his jaw clenched.
“I left a note. I promise. But it’s not anything I won��t tell you to your face everyday for the rest of our lives. So don’t worry about it, pretty. Okay? I love you, baby.”
“I love you, Rafe.” And I truly meant it.
On the way to the airport we sang along to Taylor Swift songs we both knew. And suddenly the pit in my stomach was slowly being filled with laughter and the way he didn’t even ask me what I wanted when we stopped at McDonald’s.
To be loved it to be seen. And I had to have been invisible to Jackson.
23 MINUTES UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AT THE AIRPORT 11:37 PM
“Flight 237 is now boarding. This is the final call for passengers to LaGuardia Airport.”
Rafe looks at me as we get ready to board the plane.
“You ready?” He sticks out his hand. I smile at him.
“Yeah…I’m ready.” I take his hand and lean up and kiss him as we walk onto the plane.
I glance down at the gold ring on my finger. And I realize no one will ever see me as clearly and perfectly as Rafe sees me. And that’s all I could ask for.
“Hey” he looks back at me. Glancing up from his sports magazine. His brows raised waiting for me to answer.
“I love you.” I continue and smile. His gaze softens and he pulls me into another quick kiss. I hated PDA but I didn’t care. Not with him.
“I love you more than I can even describe.” He pauses before continuing. “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”
I don’t know a lot…but I know I’ve found my person. And everything’s okay. And for the first time in 3 years, 7 months, 4 weeks, and 2 days…I felt like I could breathe.
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pennyold · 1 day ago
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truck driver | d.s
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Summary: alone with the car a mess and a truck driver letting her in, would it end well? pretty well.
Warnings: older!drew, age gap, swearing, humping, cum play, oral (male receiving), use of word “daddy”, no use of y/n (oc reader), plot then good sex. I think that's all, hehe.
a.n: first fic, so please don't be rude, if there are any grammatical mistakes, please let me know. Enjoy!!
w.c: 1.9k
peace and love, penny ︎︎︎★
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So there I was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with my car a mess. I started thinking of many ways to solve it, but I could not fix it anyway. I’m 6 hours away from home, and no one is willing to come and help me, I’m alone right now; fortunately, it is afternoon, and the sun is still shining barely. It was 6:40 pm when I got into the car looking for some things. I won’t stay here forever; with my stuff in hand, I recharged in the car. I put my thumb up when I saw a big truck, ignored. This is going to take so long.
The sun was almost hiding when a truck-long one finally gave me lights. He stopped by my side, and I turned by the driver’s side. “What happened to you, sweetheart?” shit, my tongue got stuck in my mouth, I didn’t know specifically, but he was not too old, with his hat backward and a little smirk “How can I help you?” watching that I didn’t say any word, he talked.
“Uh, yes, my car got stuck here, so I was wondering if you could drive me to the close motel here.” I bite my middle finger nail, anxious.
He nods “Of course I can, there’s one an hour, wanna get in?” I nod, then I check my car for one last time, and with all my things, I get in the truck, hopefully, large in the pilot and copilot place, and clean. Well, it is not that bad. With my thing in my lap, I watched the landscape while 90s rock music played at a very low volume.
“So,” he broke the silence, “what happened with your car?” he asked “The battery died.” I explained. “Mmh, there was no signal of that happening before?” he asked with a curious look. His eyes were blue, a dark blue. “No, sir.” “It may be a battery problem.” he says.
Oh, thanks for telling me I didn’t notice.
“I mean, comin’ from the company.” he knows what I think when my face is confused “I know my answer sounds stupid, but it can happen.”  “Yeah, sure.” Maybe I sound rude, but I was just exhausted, and I don’t want to talk, not right now.
After a while on the road, I opened my mouth. “How much rest?” I shyly grab my things hard, nervous. When I looked at him for a little second, he watched my move, he shut his eyes away and rapidly looked at me. “Not too much, a 40 min we are there, don’t worry. I promise.” he slightly smirk, and I saw some awkwardness on his face.
“Do you live here?” I asked, I’m feeling he’s giving the green signal. “Yeah, in the south, what about you?” I looked out the window, seeing the sun in the middle of the mountain. “A 6 hours away, to the north.” “Alright,” he nodded, then a little gas station with a market appeared “Do you need souvenirs?” “Oh, no, don’t worry,” I smile shyly, not to bother him, “I will come at midnight on my own”
“What are you sayin’? I said it cuz after would not be safe and worse if you go alone.” he denied it, and I disappointed him, good job. “It’s not safe out here, trust me when I say it. “Yes, sir.” “Do not call me ‘sir’, I’m not that old.” Then he looked at me. I feel guilty “It’s not in a bad way, I didn’t want to be rude to you.” “No, it’s fine, I get it, don’t worry. Can I call you by your name?” I smiled. “Call me Drew, what bout’ you, hon?” I feel a slight heat in my body with that nickname, shit. “Alisha or Ali, whatever, it’s good.” he smiled “Alright, Ali.” 
I turned my body to face him “If you are not too old, how old are you?” “42.” he says firmly “Well…” He interrupted me. “Damn it, kid, what’s young for you?” I slightly blink. “25, mostly in the 20s.” “How old are ya now?” he side-eyed me, still looking at the road. “22.” “Sure… you look like 19, kid.” he looked at me, not convinced by my age. “I can show you my driver’s license; I’m not playing.”
“Nah, I’m just messing with you.” he laughed “We arrived in 10 minutes, Do you want me to leave you in the reception while I park the truck, or you wanna wait for me?” “I’ll wait for you.” he nods “Alright, hon.” 
We arrived at the parking lot of the motel, graving all my stuff, we got out of the truck. He helped me to get down, I thanked him, and we started the walk through the motel. As we entered, a weird smell got into my nose, really bad. There was no one in the reception, so Drew knocked the bell that was just there. Minutes later, a lady came, which wasn’t very happy. “Hey, ma’am, two rooms, please.” she checked the notes in her book “Good, it’s gonna be 40 for the two.” I grabbed my wallet, taking out 20 dollars, when I was going to give it to the lady, Drew had already given her 40 dollars. “Here.” I gave him the 20 dollars, but he denied it “Drew, please.” he whispered “By my own, Hon, don’t worry. Keep it.”
I smiled at him. The lady gave each one their key, just 1 room separated us. I waved to him and wished him good night, leaving my stuff on the little couch, I went to the bathroom, my hair was so dirty and awful. After the quick shower, I put on a tight shirt, which was the only clean I had in my backpack, and a pair of sleepy shorts. My stomach started hurting, and I was starving, I took my wallet, locked the dorm, and after I started walking to the lobby, a voice echoed behind me. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” It was Drew, out of his dorm, smoking a cigarette. “To the lobby, there is a snack machine.” he stands up “I go with you,” he throws the cigarette, turning it off with his boot. I wait for him, who’s right by my side, as we walk by the lobby, I notice it's lonely in the lobby. “You want something, Drew?” “No, sweetheart, I’m fine.”
I nod, and I buy some cookies and drinks. Ignoring that, he told me he didn’t want anything I gave him a Pepsi cola. “Hon… I told you.” “It’s for the dorm.” He smiled and thanked me. Walking to the rooms and watching the food, I thought something. “Would you like to watch a movie? Still early.” With anxious feelings, I bite my lip button. “Sure, why not?” he smiled.
As we entered the room, I left the food on the table and turned the TV on. I started curious about the area of the TV, and I found a hidden fridge with some sodas and beers.
“Wanna?” I said as I showed him the beer. “Sure, bring it, hon.” Giving him the beer, I sat next to him on the little couch, not very comfy, but we could not be in the bed, right? Quitting that question, there is where we were, my hips rocking over his crotch. “Shit baby, you make me get so hard.” I moan, kissing him again. As he put his big hand over my hips, my pussy started pulsing for the stimulation. “Drew…” I moan. “I cannot, baby. I can’t fuck you.” he denied touching my back softly. “Please.” I look at him with lust, my body is demanding him inside me. “We can do another thing. You wanna try it?” I nod immediately “I need you to trust me. I would never try to hurt you, but if I do, just tell me, and I'll stop, alright?” I nod “I want you to be rough with me. I need it.” “Baby…” he whispered. “Please” I beg.
Slowly I get out of his legs, sliding my shorts out while I watch him wake up the bed and unbelting his pants, the singular sound of the belt clinking, my pussy got more wet. I showed him my bare legs wanting him to remove my panties; he understood, sliding his fingers around the sweet material of my panties, as he took it over, he looked at my now bare pussy exposed for him.
“Open those pretty legs, sweetheart, wanna see the pretty cunt you have” As he said, I opened slowly, feeling how my folds parted and the cold air conditioner slap my pussy “Jesus, what a pretty pussy, baby, are you going to let me take care of her?” I nod “Words, baby.” “Yes, Daddy.” I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck, turn around, now” 
As I did it, I heard how he slid his boxers down, and without advancing, his cock started to run over my folds. I moan, feeling his tip, trying to get insane out of my hole. “S-shit, drew, stop teasing.” “You are not into birth control, right?” I denied I don’t have an active sexual life; I only use condoms and after-day pills. “Sorry, hon, I wanted to fuck you, but we cannot” he rubs his cock again over my folds, my sticky arousal covering his hard cock, I moan feeling his chubby tip against my entrance. “Shit, Daddy, please” I move my hips backward, wanting more of the friction. “Am I your daddy, baby?” the rub of his cock got faster, and my pussy started clenching around nothing. “Y-yes, shit, I-I’m cumming” my legs shaking and my hands gracing the sheets harder. “Cum baby, let that sticky cum cover my cock” his body fell slowly over my back, then I felt his mouth close to my ear. “Then you are going to suck it till I cum, alright, baby?” “Yes, Daddy, I will.” I barely say, feeling my high, I cum, moaning uncontrollably, shaking my legs like a weak doll. 
“On your knees.” recuperating the control of my legs, I get on my knees in front of him. I look at him, then I grab his hard cock, veined and the tip red and so chubby like I feel it. “Open your mouth with your tongue out.”  I did it as he said it, his tip over my tongue, slapping in, then he told me to suck it, putting my tongue under his cock and sucking it all. Shit, my pussy started pulsing over the feeling of his tip hitting my throat too deep, he’s big. I suck him slowly, tasting all of my cum. “Yeah baby… feel all your cum” he groaned, bringing his head back, he grabbed my hair starting to fuck my mouth, he’s so close, I could feel his cock twitching inside my mouth “Fuck, hon, I’m gonna cum” fucking my mouth he pulls it out, and his sticky fluids spank over my face, breast and some on the floor. As he released himself, he watched the cum over my face. “Shit baby, I’m sorry.” Desperately look for a towel and clean my face and breasts.
“Did it get inside your eye?” I denied. “Come, let me take you to the shower.” I pull him back, whispering in his ear that my pussy still wants attention. “Oh, sweetheart, want to be fucked? That’s what she’s going to get.”
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divider: @/enchanthings-a
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lovemelizzza · 3 days ago
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𝜗𝜚 cherry’s instagram posts
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago
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I need to see reader calming Rafe down during a meltdown in a match and maybe she’s being firm and like telling him to stop and listen to her and to calm down and he shuts up because reader can get scary when mad lol 😂
Fault lines || Tennis player!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: wag!reader stands on business 😙
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,441
MASTERLIST (tennis player!rafe au masterlist)
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The sun hung heavy over Sydney’s Ken Rosewall Arena, and the crowd’s energy buzzed like static electricity. Team USA’s match in the United Cup had been one of the most anticipated games of the tournament, but all eyes were on Rafe Cameron. Not just because he was one of the best players on the circuit, but because his temper had become almost as famous as his forehand.
Today, the storm brewing inside Rafe was palpable. He was down a set and struggling to keep up in the second. The opponent, an unseeded underdog from Russia, was playing like a man possessed, returning every shot with precision that only fueled Rafe’s growing frustration. The boiling point came during a controversial call.
“Are you serious? That was in!” Rafe shouted, his voice echoing across the court. The crowd’s murmurs turned to gasps. His face was red with anger as his hands rest on his hips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The chair umpire remained stoic, unmoved by the outburst. “Out. No let, Mr. Cameron,” the umpire announced, his calm voice doing nothing to quell the fire in Rafe’s eyes.
Rafe strode to the net, pointing furiously at the spot where he was convinced the ball had landed. “Are you blind? It literally hit the fucking line!” The umpire’s expression didn’t falter. “Warning for Mr. Cameron, please return to your position.” Rafe’s jaw clenched, his grip on the racquet so tight his knuckles turned white. “This is bullshit!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he stormed toward the baseline.
With unrestrained fury, he slammed the racquet against the ground—once, twice, three times—until a deafening fourth strike splintered it into shards of graphite. The crowd gasped collectively, shock rippling through the stands as fragments scattered across the court. “Unbelievable!” Rafe yelled, tossing the mangled remains aside before stalking toward the Team USA bench, his frame vibrating with unspent anger.
His teammates and coach looked uneasy, unsure whether to intervene or let him vent. In the vip seats behind Team USA’s area, you sat with your arms crossed, your sharp gaze fixed on Rafe’s theatrics. Rafe threw himself onto the bench, oblivious to the camera following him as he mutters curses under his breath, ripping open a new racquet from his bag, his jaw clenched so tightly.
From your vantage point, you leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier in front of you. You could feel the heat of his frustration from where you sat, and you knew he needed someone to pull him out of his spiral before he self-destructed.“Rafe!” you called down, your voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd and the chaos on court. He looked up, his brow furrowed, still fuming. “What?”
You didn’t flinch, meeting his glare with the same intensity. “You need to calm down. Right now.” His lips curled into a frustrated sneer. “Are you serious right now? Did you see that call? It was bullshit!” “I don’t care about the call,” you snapped, your tone sharper than the sun’s glare. “You’re embarrassing yourself. Stop acting like a child.”
Rafe blinked, letting out an exhale. The crowd had gone quiet, all eyes were on the exchange. Even the cameras were trained on the two of you, capturing every moment of the heated conversation. “I’m not—” he started, but you cut him off. “Be the bigger person,” you demanded, your voice low but commanding.
“Do you think smashing your racquet and yelling at the umpire is going to change the call? Get your head in the game.” Rafe leaned closer, his voice lowered but still defiant. “You don’t get it. That point—” “I do get it,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes. “What I don’t get is why you’re wasting energy on this instead of focusing on winning.”
“And now you’re handing the momentum to him on a silver platter,” you shot back, your voice firm but quiet. “Do you think your opponent cares about the call? He’s focusing on the next point while you’re sitting here sulking like a brat.” His jaw worked as he struggled to find a retort, but before he could, you leaned in even closer.
“Screw your head back in, Rafe,” you hissed, your words like ice water on a fire. “And get back out there. Now.” The way you said it left no room for argument. He stared at you, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as your words sank in. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really not letting me off the hook, are you?”
“Not a chance,” you replied, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on his. “Now shut up, get your head in the game, and play like the champion I know you are.” A flicker of something—respect, maybe even a little fear—crossed his face. He nodded, more to himself than to you, before standing and grabbing his racquet.
As he walked back onto the court, he glanced back at you over his shoulder. You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to argue again. He didn’t. The crowd began murmuring again, their attention shifting back to the match. But you stayed still, arms crossed, shaking your head in exasperation. The cameras, however, lingered on you for a few more seconds, capturing your unimpressed expression as Rafe got into position to serve.
The commentators couldn’t resist. “Well, that was quite the reaction from Y/n,” one said, chuckling. “I don’t think Rafe’s girlfriend approved of that outburst,” the other added. “And who could blame her? That’s another fine coming his way.” The match resumed, and while Rafe’s temper was still simmering beneath the surface, your words seemed to have had the desired effect.
He channeled his frustration into his game, hitting with renewed focus and precision. Each shot landed with a ferocity that made the crowd gasp, and slowly but surely, he clawed his way back into the set. When he finally won the second set in a tiebreak, the crowd erupted into cheers. Rafe allowed himself a small smile, glancing toward your seat in the stands.
The third set was a masterclass. Rafe played like a man possessed, leaving no room for error. By the time he won the match with a blistering ace, the crowd was on its feet, applauding his comeback. As the players shook hands at the net, the commentators couldn’t help but bring up the earlier exchange.
“Well, it looks like Rafe Cameron had some help keeping his cool today,” one of them quipped. “I’d say his girlfriend’s pep talk worked wonders.” Back on the sidelines, Rafe grabbed his bag and towel, his eyes landing on you. When he reached you, he leaned against the barrier, his expression a mix of sheepishness and irritation. “Happy now?” he asked, his tone teasing but softer than before.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ll be happy when you stop smashing racquets.” “Fair,” he admitted, glancing down at the broken one still lying near the bench. “I guess I owe you for that.” “You owe me a lot more than that,” you replied, your smirk turning into a genuine smile.
As the crowd began to disperse, you sat back in your seat, finally allowing yourself a small smile. Rafe might be a handful, but if anyone could handle him, it was you. And judging by the camera footage that was already going viral, the world was quickly realising the same thing.
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lizziesangel · 2 days ago
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This is a request if that’s ok!! But will you be able to write nerd!Rafe and sweetheart!reader where they’re both in the same class and the reader gifts Rafe a Valentine’s Day gift for being such a gentleman💝💝
thank you for your request, angel! ughhhh, i love this!!
also, thank you for 2K followers and all the support i receive from all of you!
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rafe was used to feeling out of place. the textbooks, lectures, and glaring fluorescent lights of the classroom weren’t exactly his comfort zone, but having you by his side made it all manageable. the way you’d always flash him that sweet, reassuring smile or sneak little notes his way—it reminded him that he wasn’t alone. you believed in him, and that was enough to keep him going.
today was valentine's day, and while the class droned on about derivatives, rafe kept sneaking glances your way. you were taking diligent notes, your lips quirking up at something the professor said. you had no idea that just being here made his heart feel ten times lighter.
when the lecture finally ended, the shuffle of books and chatter filled the room, but you turned to him, your eyes were twinkling.
“hey, wait a second,” you said, fishing around in your bag.
he raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “what are you up to?”
“close your eyes,” you commanded, your tone sweet but firm.
he hesitated, his cheeks already starting to flush. “oh, c’mon, seriously?”
“yes, seriously!” you giggled, and the sound alone made his chest tighten. “just trust me.”
reluctantly, rafe shut his eyes. he heard the faint rustle of tissue paper and felt something soft and warm being pressed into his hands.
“okay, open them.”
rafe blinked down at the small gift in his hands—a neatly wrapped box with a red bow on top. tucked into the ribbon was a card that read, to my favorite gentleman.
his heart stuttered as he opened the box to reveal a knitted scarf in his favorite color and a box of his favorite chocolates.
“you got this for me?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
“of course,” you said, your smile bright and proud. “you’re such a sweetheart, baby. i just wanted to do something to show how much i appreciate you. you’ve been so kind and thoughtful… you deserve it.”
rafe’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, and he looked down, fiddling with the edge of the scarf. a lopsided smile tugged at his lips, but he couldn’t meet your gaze.
“you didn’t have to do this,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with both shyness and gratitude. “it’s… wow, thank you. i mean it.”
you leaned closer, resting your hand on his arm. “you’re welcome. but there’s no need to be so shy about it, baby. you deserve nice things.”
he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “i, uh, actually got you something too,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “it’s just… back at home. i didn’t bring it because i didn’t know if we were doing, you know, the whole valentine’s day thing in school.”
you laughed softly, your heart swelling at his awkward charm. “it’s okay. i didn’t do this to get something in return. but now i’m curious…”
rafe glanced at you, finally meeting your gaze. His blush deepened, but his grin was brighter than ever. “guess you’ll just have to wait and see, sweetheart.”
you laughed, and he swore he’d never heard a sound so beautiful. for the rest of the day, rafe wore his new scarf, his chest warm with more than just wool. and that evening, when he handed you his gift—a heartfelt letter and a delicate bracelet—you realized you’d never been happier.
because awkward, blushing rafe cameron was yours—and that was the best gift of all.
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nativegirltapes · 11 hours ago
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Need to know how your !readers reacted to thissss
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i don’t even know how i feel about it myself yet
angel’s reaction ; she very much dislikes it, at first at least, but she comes around to it. she’s like “you really had to do the eyebrows too?” it’s the eyebrows she hates the most. part of her likes it though because when her and drew are arguing, she literally can’t take him seriously. “i’m sorry but you expect me to take you seriously when you’re giving me that blank stare with no fucking eyebrows?” but she’s fine with it, drew explains it’s for a role and she’s like ok whatever 🤍
tp!mom’s reaction ; she really don’t GAF at all. one day drew comes to her trailer, his new look all on display. she’s cooking dinner for her and baby, she doesn’t realize at first but when she gets her first glance at drew she just giggles. “new look? nice. didn’t take you for that kinda guy but okay, looks good.” but drew explains it’s for a role and your like “yeah, i figured.”
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seasprincess · 15 hours ago
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bf!drew
fluff! small one
“Baby if you keep moving imma get bleach on you and then it’s gonna burn.” You say as your gloves move over his hair, being careful to not get any ore on his skin. The ass had moved more times than you can count.
“Yeah and it feels wierd so I moved.” Drew retorts back as he keeps looking at his phone, whatever rubbish tiktok is up next.
“Well it’s not helpful.” You retort back. Picking up the little brush and placing more of the bleach on his head. Sure you’d died your hair before and friends but they’ve never been as fidgety as this.
“Well you’re not helpful.” Drew says back as he looks at you. Moving once more. God can he not just sit still?
“I’m going to fight you.” You say as you look down at him on the chair.
“Mhm sure sweetheart.” Drew says before his hands are placed on your back, slowly rubbing up and down as he smirks up at you. Enjoying teasing the person in control of his hair. Bad decision. You could make his hair all patchy. Some darker spots.
Not that you’d ever dare to do that but that’s not the point.
“Thin ice.” Your index finger points in-front of his face. Narrowing your eyes at him.
And all Drew can do is smile. Just smiling away at your false threats.
“Sure baby sure.” Drew just keeps smiling. God what an asshole. What an incredibly attractive asshole.
Drew leans up to you as he tries to kiss you, but he’s met with hands on his shoulders.
“You have bleach and I am not getting it on my top.”
Drew rolls his eyes and sits back down. Not very happy with that.
But all you have to do now is wait until you can see the finished result.
a/n: I don’t know how to feel about bae’s new hair sooooo
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