Rafe Outer Banks - Blog Posts

Drop in the Ocean

pairing rafe cameron x ex!reader

summary after losing the only person who ever made him feel whole, rafe is left haunted by memories of a love that slipped through his fingers

content angst

You were always the softest part of his world—the calm in the chaos, the voice that steadied his shaking hands.

And still, he lost you.

You left with quiet goodbyes and teary eyes, saying you couldn’t keep patching up someone who didn’t want to be saved.

But Rafe wanted to be saved. He just didn’t know how to ask.

Now he drives past the places where you used to meet: the dock at golden hour, the backroads after midnight, the shore where you swore you’d always find your way back to each other.

And he wonders if you still think of him.

If the sound of the waves still brings him to mind. If the way he held you—tightly, desperately—still lingers on your skin.

“A drop in the ocean,” you once whispered, fingers laced in his, “That’s what we are. Something small, but still… enough to matter.”

He remembers that more than anything.

And even though you’re gone, miles away, maybe even loving someone else—he still swears he feels you in the silence. In the sea. In the parts of himself he can’t put back together.

Because Rafe Cameron has done a thousand terrible things.

But loving you was the only thing that ever made him feel human.

Cinnamon Girl

pairing rafe cameron x reader

summary the danger of believing you can fix them

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

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

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

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

Like he needed you to need him.

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

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

But then he asked your name.

And said it like it meant something.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Rafe was still Rafe. Your Rafe.

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

And still, you stayed.

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

Messy. Raw. Real.

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

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

Moonlight

pairing rafe cameron x touron!reader

summary an unpredictable local who was never meant to be more than a fling, but suddenly feels like the one thing worth staying for.

content mild sexual themes, substance use, angst/fluff

(inspired by moonlight-chase atlantic)

You weren’t supposed to stay long.

Just a few weeks in the Outer Banks, sunburnt days, ocean-soaked hair, and the kind of nights meant for forgetting.

But then you met him.

Rafe Cameron: the local with danger in his smile and blood on his knuckles. Everyone told you not to get involved. And that just made you want him more.

“You’re not from here,” he said that first night, leaning against your rented Jeep like he’d already claimed it. Claimed you.

“No,” you answered. “Is that a problem?”

He grinned. “Only if you make it one.”

You danced under neon lights and kissed in back alleys. He showed you places the tour books never mentioned,places the locals feared. You never asked what he was running from, and he never asked how long you were staying.

Because under the moonlight, none of that mattered.

He looked at you like you were a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about. You looked at him like you were already trying to memorize his face for when it was gone.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whispered once, tangled in his arms, salt on your lips.

“It’s not,” he said. “But I want it to be.”

And maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his hand gripped yours like you were his last lifeline,but in that moment, you wanted it too.

The clock was ticking. Summer would end. You’d leave. He’d stay.

But for now, the moonlight was yours.

And so was he.

Hi, I love your stories! I think they're super cute, and I love the way you write! I'd like to recommend you a story I recently read by Rafe x Pogue!reader and I hope you like it too <3 https://www.tumblr.com/mariclerc/783125828019060736/lost-in-figure-eight-rafe-cameron?source=share

thx for the recommendation. i really enjoyed reading this.

Burn for you

pairing bestfriend! rafe cameron x reader

summary Rafe watches the girl he loves suffer in silence through an abusive relationship, torn apart by helplessness and the fire building inside him to protect her at any cost.

content angst, domestic abuse, bruises

She showed up to my house again with makeup too perfect and sleeves too long.

I knew what that meant.

And I hated him for it. I hated myself more for letting her go back every time.

She smiled like nothing was wrong. Like I didn’t notice the way her voice shook when she said, “It’s not that bad today.”

But I saw it. I always saw it.

“Did he do it again?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Calm. I wasn’t good at calm.

She hesitated. That told me everything.

“I’m fine, Rafe,” she said. “Don’t do that thing where you get all protective.”

Too late, sweetheart. I was already ready to burn down everything for her.

“I swear to God, if he touches you again—”

“You’ll what?” she said gently, cutting me off. “Start a war?”

“I’ll end one.”

She sighed and sat beside me on the porch, her head resting on my shoulder like she always did. My jaw clenched. Her skin was warm. Fragile.

And all I could think was: She deserves better. She deserves me.

But I was her best friend. Just the guy she cried to. The one she trusted, but not the one she loved.

Not yet.

“I don’t care what it takes,” I said quietly, “I’d set the world on fire to get you away from him.”

She didn’t answer. But she squeezed my hand.

And I swore I’d never let go,even if I had to become something worse to protect her from the worst.

Loving You

pairing rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary falling into a quiet, forbidden love, holding on to each other in secret even when the world is trying to tear them apart.

content angst, forbidden love

You weren’t supposed to love someone like him.

Not Rafe Cameron.

Not a Kook with blood on his hands and scars across his knuckles. But the heart doesn’t ask for permission. It just beats.

And yours always beat faster when he was near.

He found you under the dock, where the Pogue kids used to hide beer and broken promises. Moonlight filtered through the gaps above, cutting his face into shadows and silver.

“You came” he said, breathless. Like he didn’t expect you to.

“You asked” you replied, wrapping your arms around your knees.

He sat beside you, closer than he should. “You know this is stupid, right?”

You looked at him. “I know”

He laughed under his breath, then went quiet. “I’m not good at this. I never was”

You turned your head, resting your cheek on your arms. “You don’t have to be”

Silence. Just the ocean. And the weight of everything between you: class, family, history, fear.

Still, you reached for his hand.

“I was made for this,” you whispered. “For loving you, even if I shouldn’t.”

He stared at your intertwined fingers like they were fragile.

Sacred.

“You’re the only thing that makes me feel like I’m not drowning.”

You smiled, but it trembled. “Then hold on.”

Because loving Rafe was terrifying.

But loving you,he realized,was the only thing he didn’t want to ruin.

i hope y’all liked it ♡

We Hug Now

pairing rafe cameron x reader

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

content angst, emotional distance

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

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

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

He saw you before you saw him.

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

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

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

Just a nod.

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

“Hey” he said.

You swallowed.“Hey.”

Silence.

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

You turned to him. “I guess we do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, for now… you hugged.

And maybe that was enough.

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

‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃ꫂ᭪ ۫໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ℛafe During Your Honeymoon! ࿐ ༢

warnings; none! fluff<3

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

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

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

Rafe & a Housewife Kink

warnings ; smut, mdni!! breeding kink, misogyny if you squint Rafe would certainly be a liar if he were to say that he had never before imagined you fat with a baby and cradling another, balancing the child on your jutted hip as you pour him a tall one that's still icy from the fridge. He could picture exactly the way your breasts would jiggle, swollen from pregnancy and breastfeeding, as you padded over to him, the silk of your barely-tied robe brushing in the air and lifting to reveal the delicious curve of your thigh — straight out of one of the shitty pornos he and Topper would watch on cinemax growing up. Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it. It was a dream of his, and being the handsomly illustrious heir of Ward Cameron came with the perks of having never been denied anything that had caught his fancy; the moment Rafe had decided he would like a real and true football player at his 10th birthday party, Ward had had Tom Brady on speed dial within the hour. When he had become jealous upon watching Sarah receive a purebred cocker spaniel as a reward for a particularly nice report card from the Swedish boarding school Rose had insisted upon sending the children to in a successful endeavor to secure more time alone with her newly-wedded husband, Rafe was given his own stallion and an accompanying stable to train with as he pleased. Similarly so, the moment Rafe had spotted you — you, with your engrossing mess of corkscrew curls and sticky pink Nars lip gloss and airbrushed bandage dresses that always left a little bit too much to imagination as you pranced around with your sorority sisters — he knew that he would have you in every way fathomable. He was right.

By the evening of your third date, the sheer muslin fabric of your Dolce & Gabbana babydoll dress decorated the cool hardwood flooring of Rafes bedroom, the sound of your pornographic moans and his rough thrusts meeting the fat of your ass echoing through the expanse of the empty penthouse. Your worries upon the realization that Rafe did not, in fact, have a condom had since been fucked away, the meager protests spilling from your puffy pink lips replaced with dulcet whimpers that blew Rafes pupils wider than a line of cocaine ever had as he bit down on your left breast, his hips snapping against yours as relentless as ever. “Gonna put a baby in you, bunny,” He would growl into your flesh as he lifted your hips so his dick could reach the spongy part of your sex that had you seeing stars. “Y're mine. Never gonna go back to that stupid college, never gonna waste your good years chasin' after some damn degree.” You were so cock drunk, you could barely manage a simple response, moaning with depravity instead. You came four times before he finally tugged himself off of you, choosing to wrap one muscled arm around the small of your back as the other finds purchase between your thighs, reveling in the way that they trembled around his thick fingers that would mindlessly tease your glossy folds. “Can't believe y' let me hit it raw already,” he coos, taking depraved pleasure in the way tears glisten in your big dark eyes that stare up at him meekly even in the darkness. “You're mine now, bunny. Mine.”

Author's Note; omg i can't believe i actually published writing on here?? it lowk sucks but I've been reading for so long this is a huge step for me please be nice :,)

me after rewatching my saved edits

i think about paul walker and drew starkey a lot. more than i should

ohh my gosh im so hungry i could eat drew starkey

My sexy man fr😍

🥀🥀

Need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore. I’d let him ultraviolence me, abuse me, spit on me, manhandle me, hit me with his car, corrupt me, turn me into a dumb doll, control me, gaslight me, isolate me from others, and I’d still be like “yes, daddy”. I’d let that man hit no matter what, in the kitchen, on the stairs, in public, wherever whenever in whatever position he pleases. I’d act like the most desperate whore around him just to get him to look at me and acknowledge my existence.