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chleem · 3 days ago

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hey if ur taking requests can u do one where rafe is being distant and reader thinks hes cheating but he reassures her that hes not

thank you!

bf!rafe x gf!reader

⋆.˚ Warnings: swearing, verbal fight (read at own caution

word count: 3.4k

Rafe was obsessed.

With you? No, no.

With his phone.

You started noticing two weeks ago, when he’d have one hand around you, another one on his phone.

It was subtle at first, the way he’d flick his thumb across the screen in between kisses, but now? Now it was a constant. Even when you were sitting together in silence, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm, his eyes would flick down to his device.

During dinner, he would excuse himself for ‘phone calls’. And when you tried to engage in conversation with him, he would answer vaguely. Sometimes, not even bothering to say.

But during sex? Oh, it was horrible. It took him longer than usual to cum, and when he did, his eyes were glazed, his focus still drifting somewhere else. Rafe would still take care of you, but it was clear that he wasn’t…really here.

Time spent together was less, to the point where the past week, only late at night, when the soft ruffle of the bedsheets, told you Rafe was home. You hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten until you started counting the days since you’d last had a real conversation.

At first, you told yourself it was nothing. Rafe was probably just dealing with some work or a friend needing him, but the longer it went on, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling.

You'd catch him looking at his phone screen with strange intensity, as though he was hiding something.

The thought gnawed at you.

He’s cheating, he’s cheating, he’s cheating.

You hated how your mind immediately connects to that- feeling guilty, nervous, and embarrassed.

You wanted him obsessed with you again, not that damn device.

You wanted him to look at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

The thought made your stomach churn. It was bratty, childish even, but it was how it had always been with Rafe. You had always been the one to pull him in, the one who had his focus. You loved it. Hell, you craved it.

But now? You felt like you were chasing him. The one who used to make him drop everything for a kiss, a touch, a laugh. Now, it seemed like it was all work or whatever else kept his attention hostage, and you were just another part of the scenery.

You hated how vulnerable it made you feel, like some insecure, jealous person, but it was hard not to think the worst when he acted like you weren’t even in the same room as him half the time.

You hated it.

But even as those thoughts consumed you, you wanted to scream at yourself to snap out of it. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it’s all in your head. But the uncertainty gnawed at you, and you just couldn’t- wouldn’t ignore it anymore.

And tonight, it was the final straw.

You and Rafe had finally went out, together at another one of those parties.

The whole night, it was the same thing.

When he had his arm around you, his other hand was glued to that phone. And then there were the moments when he slipped away to talk with her, if you went to the bathroom or bar.

You’d come back to see him engaged in conversation with her, laughing and nodding along at what she was saying. He seemed so... invested.

Fuck.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The frustration, the jealousy- it all boiled over. It was almost like being overstimulated- by the loud party, the people, and Rafe.

You pulled at his sleeve, your voice catching a bit, “Rafe?”

He immediately shuts up with her, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious- or maybe annoyed- when he looks down at you.

“I wanna go home,” you say, an hour into the night.

Rafe stares at you for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. But before he can say anything, you turn, your back already to him, heading toward the door.

He has to be following you.

Or you’ll never forgive him.

As soon as you step outside, the cool night air hitting your skin, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Rafe’s there, fast. By the time you reach the passenger door of the car, he’s already standing beside it, his hand on the handle, opening it for you.

You glance at him briefly, but he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are trained on something distant, his jaw clenched tight.

You slide into the car, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

The car is quiet for a few seconds. Too quiet.

And then, finally, Rafe gets in the driver’s seat, the leather creaking beneath him.

The moment he closes the door, the car fills with his scent- cologne and the lingering trace of alcohol. It’s oddly comforting.

He doesn’t start the car right away. Instead, you can feel him shifting in his seat, like he’s debating whether or not to speak.

You keep your eyes on the dashboard, crossing your arms.

He decides against breaking the silence. Instead, he slowly pulls out of the parking spot, the car moving steadily down the street.

As he drives, Rafe’s hand slides down toward your thigh, the ring cold against your skin.

Your body tenses. You move your legs further to the other side, creating distance between you, trying to avoid the touch, but his fingertips still barely brush against your skin.

From the corner of your eye, he tilts his head slightly over at you, glancing.

Rafe then pulls your thigh back over, his digits digging into your flesh, lightly, almost like a warning.

You try again, tilting your legs away from him.

But this time, Rafe holds you down with enough force that you can’t move, his grip on your thigh firm, keeping you in place.

Frustrated, you use your hands to pry his fingers off one by one.

The car stops at a red light, and Rafe’s hands leave the steering wheel, quickly grabbing your wrist. “Stop- what are you doing?”

“Get your hands off me,” you snap, brows furrowing as you try to escape his grip.

The car shakes as you move, and Rafe licks his lips, his brows furrowed as he watches you, “Shit- ”

He wasn’t even holding onto you that hard, because you escape his touch easily.

You cross your arms again, turning to look out the car window. Through the reflection, you catch his dumbfounded expression.

Rafe pokes his tongue against his cheek, “I- I can’t even touch you?”

You stay silent, not responding.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

Still, you don’t answer.

He pokes the side of your waist, causing you to flinch, but you don’t turn around.

“Babe,” he calls out.

No response.

“Hey- answer me,” he demands, his fingertips grazing over your shoulder.

He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping, “You sure you wanna ignore me?”

When even his semi-threat doesn’t get you to budge, he scoffs, shaking his head. His hand grips the steering wheel tighter as he turns back to the front, the other resting on the center console.

The light turns green; and Rafe drives fast, the sudden acceleration nearly knocking you out of your seat.

“Rafe!” you shout, your voice a mixture of frustration and panic.

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes focused on the road, his arm veins popping out as he grips on the wheel tightly.

His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead, but he still doesn’t speak.

You swallow hard, gripping the seatbelt tighter, heart pounding in your chest. You can feel your stomach twist in knots from not only the car speed, but Rafe.

“Stop- you’re making me sick,” you manage to gasp, your hand reaching out to grip his shirt, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush as the car speeds through the streets.

He doesn't immediately acknowledge you.

But as the car jerks slightly from the corner, Rafe finally slows down and stops at the next red light.

The silence that follows is deafening.

His hands are still clutching the wheel, his body rigid, but you can feel the frustration radiating off him.

You swallow again, trying to steady your breathing, but the knot in your stomach only tightens.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, head stinging. “you jerk,” you snap, shoving his shoulder as you lean back into the seat, hands instinctively pressing to your chest, trying to calm down.

“Don’t- don’t ignore me,” he mumbles, as the car moves again, slower this time (the normal pace).

“‘Don’t ignore me’?” you couldn’t even hide the disgust and anger in your voice.

Rafe’s the one who's been distant with you these past weeks, and now he has the audacity to ask you not to ignore him, when all you did was refuse his touch? Fucking bitch.

You watch his jaw tick as he pulls into the familiar setting of the Cameron estate, and you can’t- won’t hold it in anymore.

You’ve pushed the thought to the back of your mind for weeks, but seeing him with that girl tonight… it all resurfaces.

“I- I can’t do this anymore, Rafe.”

The car comes to an abrupt stop, and he turns his head over to you.

"What?" He asks, confusion written all over him.

You don’t give him the chance. Before he can say anything else, you throw the door open and climb out of the car, slamming it shut.

You don’t wait for him to follow you, your steps quick and purposeful as you move toward the front door, every step making your heart feel heavier.

“Hey-“ you hear the car door open, Rafe’s voice echoing through the place.

You don’t turn around. Instead, you crouch down to one of the plant pots near the door, your hands fumbling for the keys.

“Hey, what- what the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?”

The moment your hand makes contact with the keys, you stand up, but Rafe’s already there, standing beside you. His presence feels heavy, dark, and looming as he towers over you.

“Answer me, y/n,” he demands, his voice low and strained. “What- what are you-”

“It means we’re over!” You scream right into his face, right at the blue eyes you once found comfort and love in, only now they felt like nothing but a reminder of how you’d been ignored and hurt.

Without waiting for a response, you unlock the front door, pushing it open and stepping inside.

“Fuck- why? Hey- I’m talking to you-“

Rafe’s voice follows as your feet carry you faster into the shared bedroom, the urgency in your steps matching the storm inside you.

He’s right behind you, his footsteps heavy, but you don’t slow down. You rush into the closet, standing on your tiptoes to grab your empty luggage, your hands trembling as you pull it out.

“Tell me- tell me y/n, why? What- did I do something wrong?"

You nudge past him, dropping the luggage carelessly on the bed. You move past him again, grabbing your clothes, trying to ignore the weight of his presence.

But as you attempt to walk by him once more, Rafe grabs your wrists harshly, the force so intense that it stops you dead in your tracks.

Your eyes widen, staring up at him, feeling his grip tighten.

He glares down at you, his expression filled with something darker- a look you’ve seen him use on the Pogues right before a fight breaks out.

“Fuck- look at me when I'm talking to you," he snaps.

Your breath hitches, and for the first time, you're actually scared of Rafe—scared of what he could do to you. The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach drop.

Rafe must have sensed the shift in you because, just as quickly as he grabbed you, his blue eyes soften. He swallows, his grip loosening, and his hands drop from your wrists. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on you, almost pleading, as if silently asking you not to breeze past him.

“Talk, talk to me, babe.”

You bite down on your lip, fidgeting on your feet as you think of your next words.

But there was no better way to rephrase them, really.

“…Are you cheating on me?”

You start, your voice shaking slightly. His brows furrow deeper, “hmm? Be honest with me, Rafe. Who are you seeing other than me?”

“‘Cheating’?”

he repeats, like the word itself is foreign to him.

“Yeah- you are, aren’t you?”

He shakes his head, a quick, sharp motion. “No- no.”

He stands up straight, towering over you now. “Where- where would you get that? Why would you-”

“I don’t know!”

“I would never-”

“I just-”

“I would never cheat on you, y/n.”

His tone is final, laced with a certainty that makes your chest tighten. The blue in his eyes doesn’t waver, holding yours with an intensity that almost dares you to doubt him.

He leans in, a hand going to play with the waistband of your pants.

"Where did you get that thought- into that, that pretty mind of yours?" a teasing edge creeping in his voice as he tilts his head slightly, eyes studying your face.

You shrug, bringing your own hand up and playing with his ring. “Well- you’ve been ignoring me.”

His hand stops playing with the button, fingers freezing mid-motion. His eyes narrow slightly, the teasing disappearing from his voice. “I have?” he asks, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just playing.

You nod slowly, looking away for a moment, but your fingers still toy with the ring on his hand, the metal cool against your skin. "Yeah. It’s like I’m not even here sometimes.”

He takes in a sharp breath, his gaze softening as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. “...I’m sorry.”

You didn’t expect him to apologize so soon, or even at all. Rafe was stubborn- he didn’t like being called out or criticized. Fights with him usually ended with him gently coaxing you to forgive him, without ever actually saying sorry.

Yet here he is.

You blink, his apology settling on your chest. It feels... strange. Almost too simple, yet so unexpected.

"Wow," you breathe out.

"What?" His gaze flickers to your lips, a hint of curiosity in his expression.

"You never say that.”

"Say what?"

“Sorry."

"What?" He laughs, the sound deep and throaty, “I- I do.”

"No, you don’t."

"Well, I just said it.”

"Yeah. And- why?”

He pauses, his laughter fading into something quieter. For a second, he doesn’t speak. Then he looks at you, his eyes darker now, not playful but serious.

“...Because I don’t want you thinking that.”

"Thinking what?”

“… think that I’m cheating on you."

Your mind circles back to the girl at the party, and all the time he spent on his phone, his attention so distracted.

"...Tell me about that girl," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as his finger gently ghosts over your belly button, the warmth of his touch at odds with the cool uncertainty creeping up inside you.

"...What girl?" His blue eyes hold your gaze, unwavering.

"That girl- at the party.”

He tilts his head slightly, the tension in his jaw tightening.

"Her?" he asks, a strange light in his eyes. He bites his bottom lip, clearly choosing his words carefully. "No one.”

"'No one'?" You raise an eyebrow, heart thumping in your chest as you stare at him. "But you talked to her a lot.”

"She's no one," he repeats, but there’s something in his tone that doesn’t quite convince you.

"Rafe." Your voice is softer now, almost pleading. "Who is she?"

He exhales, his chest rising and falling with the motion. "Not important.”

"...How do you expect me to believe you're not cheating when you won’t even tell me, hmm? Is she the one you're texting so much?”

His eyes narrow slightly. Then, out of nowhere, a smirk creeps up on his lips, his expression shifting into something more teasing, almost mocking.

"What, you jealous?”

You freeze, your stomach dropping at the sudden shift in his attitude. “...Are you serious right now, Rafe?”

“My baby’s jealous,” he murmurs instead, his hand coming up to brush your hair off your shoulders. He laughs lightly, but the sound only serves to make your frustration grow.

You roll your eyes, trying to walk past him, but before you can make it very far, he catches your forearm just in time, pulling you back to him.

The smirk is still there, but now there’s a new depth in his eyes- something more serious, almost challenging.

“You, you really wanna know?” he asks.

“...Yes."

He steps closer, his fingers tightening around your arm just enough to remind you of his presence. His eyes don’t leave yours, dark and intense. “You sure? You wanna know what I’m planning?”

"Yes, Rafe.”

He exhales slowly, almost as if he’s debating whether to let you in or not.

Finally, his lips curve into something softer, though still playful. “...it’s for your birthday.”

Your expression relaxes as the words sink in. Your birthday.

You hadn’t even thought about it, too consumed with the feeling of being ignored and deprived of his attention. All the stress, the jealousy, and the uncertainty had clouded your mind, and now, as the truth hits you, it feels like a weight lifting off your chest.

Your heart flutters at the thought that he’s been planning something special for you all along.

“That girl- she’s a party planner, I guess. I- I don’t really know,” Rafe scratches his head, “Been texting her just to get details... plus, got a new deal going on, so- “

You’re barely hearing the rest of his words as your mind races. Stupid girl. You had let your own insecurities twist everything.

You’d thought the worst, thinking he would cheat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

This moment- it was a reminder of just how much he loved you, even if he didn’t always show it.

Rafe, with his walls built high, was the type to be completely absorbed in one thing at a time. He could be consumed by his work or something else, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent. It didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that when he was with you, his attention was fully yours, even if it didn’t always come in the ways you expected.

Rafe’s words start to blur, but you step closer to him, your hands resting gently on his chest as he looks down at you, still explaining, oblivious to the shift in your thoughts.

“Thank you,” you say, once he stops, a smile tugging at your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He smiles down at you, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.

“Why?” he asks, a playful curiosity in his voice.

“Thank you for planning my birthday," you murmur, "and also... sorry- for thinking you’re cheating.”

Rafe’s smile falters just slightly, his fingers tightening around you as he pulls you closer. “No- I- it’s all my fault.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze. “...Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

He blinks, a bit confused at first. “That it’s all my fault?”

“No,” you say softly, “say that you’re sorry.”

There’s a pause, and he exhales as if he’s still processing, then finally says, “...I’m sorry.”

You smile at how the words roll off his tongue, a softness in his voice that you don’t hear often. It’s a rare vulnerability, and somehow, it feels like everything is just as it should be.

You and Rafe spend a few seconds simply staring into each other’s eyes. The world outside seems to fade away.

And then, with a sudden smirk, he adds, “You ruined the surprise.”

Your eyes widen, a small laugh escaping your lips as you pull back slightly.

“Well, would you rather lose a girlfriend instead?”

“C’mon…y’know you’re enough to keep me busy anyways,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin.

Rafe laughs, the sound deep and amused, and you tap his chest playfully.

“Shut up, Rafe.”

And as you both stand there, the moment feeling light and easy, you can’t help but smile at how everything’s falling into place.

It’s funny how, sometimes, the things you feared the most turn out to be nothing but misunderstandings. And with Rafe, despite his occasional stubbornness, he always manages to find his way back to you.

-------------------------------

corny but I LOVE IT

also, learned how to do the 'keep reading' tabs is it better now

elevator | other

#inbox #request #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe imagine

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s1ut-4-rafe · 3 days ago

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casual + extra: Reader after leaving, she becomes pregnant with rafe's baby but she's already moved to wherever and she began raising her bby, and then years past, they met again because of rafes business trip and unexpectadly saw reader doing groceries with her child, and make rafe self reflect abt their times together and how reader was genuinely hurting during their casual moments. and then he later learns that the child was his because he saw that the child is basically a carbon copy of him. AAAAAAA (feel free to ignore this, i daydream to much)

Casual | Continued...

Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Word Count - 1587

Two years had passed since you left. Two years since you walked away from him, the man who had never understood the weight of his words or the heaviness of his actions. And yet, despite everything, you carried a piece of him inside you.

At first, you hadn’t realized. The pregnancy came as a surprise, one you hadn’t expected after that one last night with Rafe. The night that had felt like it was meant to be something more, something deeper, but turned out to be just another casualty of miscommunication and misalignment.

You had thought you could walk away from him, that leaving was the best thing for you, but there was no preparing for the shock when you found out you were carrying his child.

You left town. Moved far enough away that it felt like you could start over, like you could build something new without constantly bumping into reminders of the past. You were near the coast, just close enough to the Outer Banks to catch a whiff of salty air on a windy day, you settled into a quiet, simple life.

You didn’t want to reach out to him, couldn’t, even if you’d wanted to. You knew that once you told him, he’d either run or promise to be there and fail. So, you chose silence. You raised your child on your own, as much as your heart ached for the life you could have had if things had been different.

Your son grew quickly, and every day, you learned more about him. How he looked just like Rafe, the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited, the small smile that always seemed to dance at the corners of his lips. He was Rafe’s, through and through, even if Rafe never knew it.

You were still in that small, quiet town when you saw him again.

It was an ordinary day, your son in your arms as you pushed the cart through the aisles. Your son was busy scanning the shelves for the cereal you always bought, the one with the cartoon characters he loved. He was so innocent, so unaware of the emotions that were brewing just outside his little bubble.

You saw him before he saw you. Rafe. Standing by the produce section, looking a little too perfect in a blue and white striped sweater that probably cost more than your whole month’s rent. He hadn't changed much, still the same Rafe you knew all those years ago, but now there was something in his posture that was different. He was a bit older. More worn.

You tried to brush it off. But there was no ignoring the fact that your son, with his dark hair and bright blue eyes, was unmistakably his.

Rafe’s eyes met yours, and time slowed for just a moment. The connection was instantaneous, and it hurt. It was like every unspoken word from the past rushed forward, crashing into the present.

Rafe glanced down at your child, then back at you. His face changed in an instant, confusion, disbelief, and something else… guilt? He didn’t speak at first, just stared, trying to process what he was seeing.

You watched him, all those old feelings bubbling up like an ancient wound reopening. But you stayed calm, steady, and determined. There was nothing left to say to him.

"Is... is he...?" Rafe started, his voice tentative, as if he couldn't quite believe what was in front of him.

You met his gaze, calm but heavy with everything that had passed between you two. “Yeah. This is your son.”

The silence stretched, his mind working through the revelation, piecing it together, bit by bit. The resemblance wasn’t subtle. Your son’s eyes. His smile. That curious, unguarded way he looked at the world, like Rafe did when he let his guard down... before everything had fallen apart.

Rafe’s eyes flickered with emotion, something raw and unprocessed. You could see it how the reality was starting to sink in. He looked between you and your son, like he was trying to find the right words.

“I... I didn’t know,” he whispered, almost to himself. "I had no idea."

You shook your head slowly. “No. You didn’t.”

There was no bitterness in your voice, just the weight of truth. You had done it. You had raised your son without him, and while it had been hard, you had never regretted it. The man standing before you now didn’t hold that kind of power over your life anymore.

Rafe seemed lost for words. “I—I'm sorry,” he muttered, almost too quietly for you to hear.

You paused for a beat, watching your son as he played with the string on your hoodie, oblivious to the gravity of the moment. “You don’t have to apologize. I don’t need you to. I did this on my own, Rafe. I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

His eyes dropped, that familiar guilt creeping in. He stepped closer, but you took a step back. “You don’t get to just waltz in now,” you said, a quiet intensity behind your words. “You don’t get to pretend like this changes anything.”

He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come.

You watched him, this man who had once been so casual with your heart, who had made you feel disposable, like you were nothing more than a fleeting moment in his life. The same man who left you questioning your worth. You couldn’t let him do it again.

But as you stood there, a sudden realization hit you. Seeing him again, seeing him try to process this, the pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp. It was like a dull ache now, a part of you that had faded with time.

“I don’t hate you, Rafe,” you said softly. “But I’m not the same person I was when we first met.”

You turned away, your heart strangely at peace, even as it beat a little faster. Your son, your future, this was your focus now. You didn’t need Rafe to validate any of it.

Behind you, Rafe stood frozen, his gaze still lingering on the child who was, unmistakably, his. And as you pushed the cart toward the checkout, you knew that this was the end of something, even if he wasn’t ready to let go.

Rafe’s POV

I stood there, completely still, like I had been struck by lightning. My chest tightened, my mind racing, unable to keep up with the surreal moment I had just stumbled into. My heart pounded as I watched you walk away, and everything inside me screamed to stop you. To say something. To explain. But the words wouldn’t come.

My eyes flickered down to the boy, your son, and then back to you, walking away, a quiet but unwavering finality in your steps. The resemblance between us hit me like a freight train.

A carbon copy. Your son’s wide eyes, his dark brown hair, the small set of his jaw. I felt a wave of realization wash over me, the fog lifting as everything clicked. The kid wasn’t just similar to me. He was me, in every way that mattered.

A sinking feeling took root in my stomach. It was like a punch in the gut, one that left me breathless. This child, this boy who was too young to understand any of this, was mine. My son. My blood. My legacy.

I had been so careless. So detached. I was in and out of your life like you were just another convenience, a fleeting distraction. I had never really seen you for who you were, what you needed. I had ignored every small thing that should have mattered.

My mind was spiraling. Memories from the past flickered in my mind, unbidden. The nights when I left you cold, the casual words I’d thrown your way when you needed me most. The way you had looked at me, eyes brimming with something deep and unsaid, something I didn’t want to see then. I had shut it out, pretending it didn’t matter. And now, standing here, in the quiet aisle of a grocery store, I realized how wrong I had been.

I had hurt you.

That night, the night you had walked away from me without a second thought, I had assumed you were fine. That you were just another girl who had wanted something casual. It had been my defense mechanism, too: keep things light, keep things easy, never give too much, never expect too much. But now, in the wake of this revelation, I saw it differently.

I had hurt you. And not just emotionally. I had taken so much from you without ever giving anything in return. You had carried so much weight, so much pain, on your own, and I was too selfish to notice.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, just staring after you, but when I finally turned and walked toward the checkout, my heart was heavy. I could still hear your voice in my head. “I don’t need you now.”

You didn’t need me. Maybe you never truly did. And for the first time, I understood what that truly meant.

You were everything, and I failed you.

As I loaded my groceries into the car, I found myself staring at the empty space where my future should have been, and I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

My son was a stranger to me. And it’s all my fault.

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Thank you for the request love! Enjoy!

#inbox #request #casual asks #s1ut-4-rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron obx

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