#nerd!rafe

[esotericcangel]

MINT JULEP ♡ R. CAMERON

♡ pairing: nerd!rafe x man hater!reader

♡ summary: you meet nerd!rafe at a bar

♡ warnings/tags: suggestive language, tension, mentions of alcohol

God, you were pissed.

A mixture of BO and alcohol clung to your nostrils, wafting your senses every few seconds and sending a sickening wave of nausea over you.

It was your first night out after your ‘boyfriend’ had been caught cheating on you, and so far? you weren’t enjoying it.

It was one of the first times you’d allowed yourself to be vulnerable to anyone. a man, no less. and all he did was chew your heart up and spit it back out at you.

So now here you were. Nursing a mint julep and chewing your lower lip raw, hoping to any deity that the friends you’d come here with would appear at any second and whisk you away from this madness.

Instead, the opposite happened.

Rafe knew he was an antisocial freak(quote from his highschool bully), and even after graduating from high school as valedictorian he’d still never struck gold with a woman, much to his dismay. It wasn't like he was unattractive or anything. No, anyone, any woman with eyes could see that he was a ten; broad shoulders that filled out his top, biceps that looked biteable. He was just so… awkward. fidgety. He could blame it on his undiagnosed ADHD, but then he’d just feel sorry for himself, and he didn’t want to.

And it wasn’t like Rafe needed to have a girlfriend, or some sort of romantic figure in his life. He prided himself on not being a hormone driven freak, constantly looking for his next fuck like some guys he knew. he was intelligent, and to him that was enough.

The stone of the bar top was cold against his forearms, the silver of his watch glinting in the fluorescent light of the bar. It was late, maybe even too late for Rafe to be out right now. He had a paper due in biochemistry at exactly 8 AM in the morning, and his professor wasn’t the most gracious. but still, rafe lifted his glass of bourbon to his lips slowly but surely, eyes scanning the bar analytically. His nerves were a little shot, palms a little clammy. He wasn’t used to going to bars late at night, dancing, and picking up girls. but the epiphany he’d had the other night when he’d shamefully admitted his purity to his card playing club gave him a brief moment of clarity, enough to encourage him to spritz some cologne on his neck and step into the bar closest to his college campus.

And amidst his psychological analysis of the guy on the far end of the bar, who’d taken three shots now, and who Rafe had mentally concluded was probably fatherless, came your voice.

Your voice, although snappy, was sweet and melodic to rafe’s ears, and had his head snapping to the other end of the bar to see you. And God, you were like a dream.

Rafe almost pinched himself. Was he dreaming? Was this some twisted fantasy his mind was creating, and instead of being here, five steps away from you, he was passed out on a stack of papers in his dorm?

Shaking his head to rid himself of a reverie, he took a tentative look around. No one saw that. Good.

He let his eyes trail over your body once more, dragging over your skin, and if you saw him doing so, it would’ve felt like a physical touch.

And after a few minutes of wordlessly hyping himself up, Rafe slipped off the cracked leather stool he once occupied, running a hand through his already slicked back hair. He approached you as if you were a scared deer who could run off any second.

“Hello.” God, he sounded pathetic.

Amongst your seething and mental decision to never give another man the time of day ever again, your head jerked back, jaw tense and brows raised just a fraction. Your expression was almost irritable as thought Rafe was the greatest bother that could’ve approached you.

One look at him and you scoffed, throwing a hand dismissively into his direction and sipping your mint julep. “No.” As if you were brushing off an overly eager child.

His face crumbled, like a child denied a toy, a crease forming between his brows. “Well I was just-”

“No.”

Okay… maybe he needed a different approach. He cleared his throat, a newfound confidence taking over as he found the courage to slip into the seat next to you.

This only worsened your irritation, hand slamming down your drink on the bar top, head whipping in his direction about to tell him off-

“Mint julep. That- that’s nice. Gatsby.” he said with a silly grin, cerulean eyes flicking between your drink and face—which was still twisted up in irritation, but now a bit.. Confused?

“Excuse me?”

“Your drink,” he clarified, pointing his finger in its direction. “You’re drinking a mint julep. like in The Great Gatsby?”

You could faintly recall reading that book in highschool, writing an essay on it in your English honors class. You could also never recall a moment where a guy had attempted to pick you up by referencing a book.

“Um.. yeah. I guess,” you replied. Dry, uninterested.

He swallowed, grin fading a little, a small flutter of panic blooming in his chest. He felt like he was losing a game that didn’t even want to play.

“You know, Fitzgerald really wrote that scene well,” He tried again, hoping you’d engage. “I mean it was obvious gatsby was overstepping, but-“

“Overstepping?” You interrupted, Your attention now fully grabbed. “He was in love with Daisy. If I loved someone I'd try to win them over too.” You scoffed.

His brows raised, a smile curling at his lip that said, I have you.

“Well she was with Tom,” He reasoned.

“Tom was a racist elitist who cheated on her. I hardly think he was the more suitable option.”

“So you’d choose Gatsby.”

“In a heartbeat.”

His smile was wide now, the subtle curling of the corners of his mouth more defined, his dimples prominent in the apples of his cheeks.

And it was then when the flicker of realization made way into your mind, the frightening revelation that he’d caught your attention, and managed to hold on to it.

Instead of fighting it, you wanted to give in. So you did.

You offered a hand and said only your name, a wordless truce between the debate that was Tom vs. Gatsby.

“Rafe,” he offered in return, his larger hand engulfing yours as he accepted it, giving a light shake. It was like a shot of electricity had traveled up his arm, almost making him shiver. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Well.. Rafe Cameron,” You emphasized his name, almost a tease, but you still kept your voice dry as if you were uninterested. You swallowed a sinful of your mint julep. “I think you’re wrong.”

He only smiled and shook his head, cocking it further to the side as he let his eyes wander back to your profile. And for the first time ever, Rafe suddenly understood why some people longed for love.

© 𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 please refrain from copying, translating or claiming my work as yours .ᐟ

divider creds to @bernardsbendystraws .ᐟ

[cherrysinner]

PAIRING: adult nerd!rafe x adult pervert!reader

SUMMARY: set five years after they finished college, the art of rediscovery tells the story of their lives after college, how they managed their relationship, its eventual end, their lives after it, and their reunion at rafe's sister's wedding.

you were rafe cameron's first love, and when your relationship ended, he knew you'd be the last. while rafe went to study for a PHD in biomedical science in boston, you went off to los angeles to chase your dreams of being an actress.

now, five years later, when you get invited to sarah cameron's wedding, you're forced to spend two weeks in the same house with your first love under the hot summer sun.

what could go wrong...?

CHAPTERS 🌺

PROLOGUE ⋮ ONE ⋮ TWO ⋮ THREE ⋮ FOUR ⋮ FIVE ⋮ SIX ⋮ SEVEN ⋮ EIGHT ⋮ NINE ⋮ TEN ⋮

EXTRAS 🍑

COMMUNITY

READER’S INSTAGRAM READER MOODBOARD RAFE MOODBOARD

[bbywhitefox123]

summary: anxious, nerdy rafe cameron has a crush on the bookstore runner. and it’s so painfully obvious.

warnings: rafe cameron being a loser

It’s 4:47 on a Thursday when he walks in.

The bell above the door gives that pitiful little dink! like it’s tired of announcing people, and Marlena doesn’t even look up from the stack of used paperbacks she’s alphabetizing. Not until he clears his throat softly—like he doesn’t wanna be a bother—and says:

“Uh, hi. Do you guys carry comics?”

Marlena turns, expecting—well, not him. Not preppy-boy-sweater-vest, glasses-sitting-perfectly-on-the-bridge-of-his-nose, loafers-so-clean-you-could-eat-off-‘em him.

The guy looks like he’s about to write a dissertation on Whitman. Or debate Kant. Or whatever other pretentious crap rich boys from Figure Eight read in their free time.

She blinks.

“Comics?” she repeats, deadpan.

His ears go bright pink.

“Yeah. Like, uh—Batman? The Black Label stuff? Or like… I don’t know . Saga?” He fidgets, scratches at the nape of his neck. “My cousin got me into it, and now I’m kinda… hooked.” His voice drops, like it’s something to be embarrassed about.

She doesn’t mean to smile, but she does.

“…Back corner, past the fantasy shelf. Left of the manga.”

He nods a little too eagerly. “Thanks.”

And then he walks, stiff and awkward like he’s hyper-aware of how he’s being perceived.

What she doesn’t know is that Rafe Cameron has been coming to this bookstore once a week for a month. Never really buys anything. Just browses, touches the covers like they might bite. But today—today, she’s working.

And that changes everything.

Because she’s wearing this red top. Not scandalous, just… soft and clingy, and when she stretches up to re-stack something above the register, his brain short circuits.

He nearly walks into a bookshelf.

He makes it to the comics without tripping, barely, crouches down like he’s searching for a specific issue. But he’s not really looking. Not at Batman. Not even at the whole damn alphabet.

Because when she crouches too—to help him find something from the lower shelf—and her jeans ride just a bit lower in the back, he’s gone. Done. Short-circuited again.

His fingers tighten on the edge of a longbox.

Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare.

He stares. Just a little.

And then she leans down to hand him The Killing Joke, her hand brushing his as she passes it over, and—Jesus. He notices the way her necklace dips between her collarbones. Notices the way her lips quirk like she knows exactly what she she’s doing.

His face turns scarlet.

“Thanks,” he mutters. “You’re, um… helpful.”

She tilts her head, grinning. “You always this nervous about Batman?”

He lets out this breathy half-laugh and bolts toward the register before he does something actually humiliating. Like faint. Or propose.

Marlena rings him up. He’s fidgety, doesn’t make eye contact. He slides a twenty across the counter, grabs the comic like it might save him from drowning, and then—without waiting for his change—he bolts.

Literally leaves.

Like there’s a fire.

Like she set it.

Marlena calls after him, “Hey! You forgot your change!”

But the door’s already swinging shut, and his ears are still pink when he vanishes down the sidewalk.

The next Thursday?

He’s back.

Tuesday, 4:32 PM.

The bell chimes. Marlena doesn’t look up. She knows that sweater. She knows those shoes. She knows that panicked little shuffle he does when the door sticks for half a second.

Rafe Cameron is back.

Of course he is.

But this time… he’s not alone.

There’s a kid with him.

A literal child. Like, ten maybe? Freckles. Ratty Marvel backpack. That preteen energy that says I run on Capri Suns and Harry Potter movies.

Marlena squints from behind the register.

Rafe’s got a hand on the kid’s shoulder, but it’s awkward—like he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be the parent or the babysitter or what. The kid’s already bolting toward the comic shelves while Rafe trails behind like he’s been emotionally winded.

She watches him for a second. Watches the way he pushes his glasses up his nose, looks over and catches her eye—

—and promptly panics.

“Oh—uh—hey.” He gives the weakest wave in history. “You’re here again.”

Yes, Rafe. That’s what happens when someone works here.

Marlena nods, unimpressed. “I am. And you brought…”

She gestures vaguely toward the kid, who’s now arguing loudly with himself about whether Moon Knight is overrated.

Rafe blinks. Then turns a weird shade of red. “Oh! Uh—he’s not—he’s not mine.”

Marlena raises an eyebrow, because she didn’t say that.

He rushes to clarify, flustered. “He’s my cousin. Benji. The one who got me into comics, remember?”

Benji yells from the back: “I TOLD YOU BATMAN’S A LITTLE TOO MISERABLE FOR NO REASON.”

Rafe winces. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Marlena has to press her lips together to keep from laughing.

Because for a split second, she did think Rafe might be someone’s dad. And honestly? The way he’s nervously trying to manage this child while still glancing at her like she might disappear if he blinks too fast…

It’s giving: single father at a PTA meeting.

It’s giving: trying to be impressive but failing adorably.

It’s giving: loser.

A kind of cute loser.

But a loser nonetheless.

Still. A customer is a customer.

“You know,” she says, leaning her elbow on the counter. “For someone who said he’s new to comics, you’ve shown up twice in seven days. That’s not beginner behavior.”

Rafe gives her a shy half-smile. “Maybe I just like the store.”

She snorts. “Or the person running it?”

He blanches. Blinks. Opens his mouth to respond and Benji throws a comic from the back, yelling: “UNCLE RAFE, THIS ONE’S GOT BLOOD AND SWEARING IN IT, CAN I GET IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE—”

Rafe just makes this strangled little sound and walks away in the direction of the chaos.

Marlena finally laughs.

Loud. Right in front of two customers.

God. He’s such a dork.

But maybe that’s not the worst thing.

Benji’s pacing the aisle like he’s on a mission.

Rafe trails behind him, trying to look like he’s got it under control, but the second Marlena steps around the corner, he looks helpless.

“Okay, I know it was on this side,” Benji mutters, flipping through longboxes like a man possessed. “It had the red cover, but not the bright red—like the dark red. Like blood red. But cooler.”

Rafe gives Marlena a look that just says help.

She sighs—dramatically—but she’s already walking over. “Move,” she says, nudging Rafe with her hip. “You’re just getting in the way.”

He stutters something that sounds like “sorry,” but she’s already crouching beside the kid, flipping through stacks like it’s nothing.

Rafe hovers, shifting uselessly.

“You. Sit,” she says without looking at him, pointing to the duffel bag in the corner they usually use to store donations. “You’re tall and anxious and you’re breathing down my neck.”

He stares. Then sits. Immediately.

He’s obedient like that.

So now he’s on the duffel bag, legs a little too wide, watching as Marlena methodically sorts through issue after issue.

And he’s trying to focus. Really.

But her tank top rides up as she reaches high.

And then she bends to grab a different box from the bottom shelf.

Her shorts ride low.

Low enough.

And it’s barely a flash—just a peek of the thin strings of her panties and the curve of her back—but it’s enough to make Rafe forget where he is.

Or what year it is.

Or how to breathe.

His jeans tighten uncomfortably, and he curses himself under his breath, shifting like that’s gonna make it less obvious. He presses his palms into his thighs and wills his body to chill.

Benji finally yells, “FOUND IT!” like he just discovered fire.

Marlena lets him hold the comic like it’s the Ark of the Covenant, but she straightens up and turns to Rafe, brushing dust off her hands.

He swears—swears—she walks in slow motion.

Hair bouncing a little. Smiling like she knows exactly how ridiculous he looks sitting there all flustered and overwhelmed.

She hands him the comic, tilting her head. “Victory,” she says with a grin.

He stares at her face. Just her face.

It’s glowing. Or the sun hit it weird. Or maybe he’s just malfunctioning.

He reaches out to take it but fumbles.

The comic slips from his hand and falls to the floor with a soft thwap.

She doesn’t even blink. Just laughs under her breath, puts a hand on his thigh to steady herself as she crouches to grab it.

And that—that innocent little touch on his leg—is his final straw.

All he can think of is her on her knees, that same hand tugging his belt open.

He goes red.

Full-body red.

When she hands it to him again, he can’t even meet her eyes. Just mumbles, “Thanks,” like his brain forgot all other words.

Benji doesn’t notice.

But Marlena?

She definitely does.

Benji’s already speed-walking to the front, gripping his bloody-red comic like he just won The Hunger Games. Rafe trails behind, trying to keep his cool, even though his entire body still feels like it’s overheating.

Marlena doesn’t say anything about the dropped comic. Or the awkward boner. Or how red his face still is.

She just smiles. All calm and cool.

Like she didn’t just ruin him with a single hand on the thigh.

They reach the register, and she rings up Benji’s comic like this is just any other Tuesday and she’s not the most beautiful girl Rafe’s ever seen in his life.

Benji bounces on the balls of his feet. “Isn’t there a new one coming out next week? The special edition with the foil cover?”

Marlena nods. “Next Thursday. If the distributor doesn’t screw us over again.”

Benji gasps like she told him Christmas is coming early.

Rafe—still dazed—hands her his credit card silently.

She takes it, flipping it in her hand to check the name.

Rafael Cameron.

Her lips twitch. “Rafael, huh?” She looks up at him. “That’s… kind of nerdy.”

He shrinks a little. “Yeah, I know. My mom—uh—she was into old saints and stuff, so—”

“You don’t have to justify it,” she cuts in, grinning. “I like nerds.”

Rafe blinks. Stares. Dies a little inside.

She hands the card back, tilting her head. “If you want, I can text you when the new release drops. So you don’t have to come by and, you know…”She pauses, eyes glinting. “Hover awkwardly again.”

Benji snorts. “He does do that.”

Rafe’s already fumbling in his back pocket for his phone. “Y-yeah. Sure. That’d be cool. If you want. I mean—yeah.”

He pulls up his contact, hands her the screen with his number already typed in like it’s a peace offering.

She types in her own number without blinking, saves herself as MARLENA 📚, then smirks as she hands it back.

“Now if I don’t text, you’ll know it’s personal.”

Rafe chokes on air.

Benji just goes, “Can we go now?” like he hasn’t just witnessed his cousin having a full-body reaction to a girl typing on his phone.

They leave with the comic, a receipt, and one destroyed ego.

Marlena watches them walk out, arms crossed over her chest, still smiling to herself.

And on Rafe’s phone?

A new message, already waiting.

MARLENA 📚: You forgot your card, Rafael.

[blondielockscherry]

Hi! I was thinking if I could ask for something with nerd!rafe in it? Maybe with a very affectionate, lowkey pda-loving reader (cheek kisses, actual kisses, hugs, hand-holding, cuddling, the whole works!) who couldn't get her hands off of him even in public (at school) and he's just permanently tomato-shaded because of it lol. Poor baby is not used to it but he's revelling in all of it deep inside. Thank you 🫶

i love this !! thank you for the ask too💗

nerd!rafe still getting used to readers affection ᡣ𐭩

it had been a few weeks since you and rafe had publicised your relationship. he very clearly didn’t have much experience with the whole affectionate stuff all he knew was that he liked it.

because rafe was wayyy smarter than you, you unfortunately was put into different classes but you met him after every single one. today was one of those days where rafe walked up to your math class to meet you after.

“hi baby” your greeted as your threw yours arms around his neck, pulling him in close. rafe could feel her tits press against his chest, making his mind go blank. he was so used to being the invisible nerd that he still couldn’t believe you where his girlfriend.

“what’s wrong baby?” you teased him pouting.

“nothing.. nothing at all” he stumbled over his words, his ears and face turning red. he was pretty sure anyone watching could see his heart through his shirt. “your just hugging me kinda intensely right now.” he swallowed hard, trying not to let his voice crack.

“aw.. well do you wanna come over tonight” you kissed his lips making his eyes widen. you loved the way you made him all flustered and shy. he was not used to the public display of affection but he didn’t hate either.

“yeah i’ll come over are we gonna study i’ve got a AP calculus test coming up.” you nodded before taking his hand in yours and walking. his heart skipped a beat another public display of affection that made his knees week. although it had been going on for a week rafe was only just getting used to it. he felt like he was always permanently red with blush.

your favourite thing to ever do is tease rafe about this. you acted oblivious to his red cheeks, beating heart, sweaty palms and stuttering.

“hey rafe why are you tence when i touch you do you not like it or something?” you ask.

“no! no no i love it it’s just.. just i’m not used to girls like you actually wanting to touch me. like i’m always expecting you to dump me” he looks down kicking small pebbles nervously.

you smile softly before pulling him in and kissing his face all over. “shut up i’m never gonna dump you, i love you”

his breath caught in his throat at the ‘L’ word, his eyes widening. “you love me?” he repeated his voice cracking slightly. “i love you too like alot alot” he smiled before pulling you into a kiss for the first time in public.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ. this is the face nerd!Rafe makes when u give him head for the first time ever… yeah…

A heated make out session with his extremely hot tutee already felt like he was acting out some weird fantasy he’s seen in his favorite porno’s. But this? Oh, this was being saved in his memory for the rest of his life.

Your hands traveled down his body, giving him a small smirk as you kissed the skin of his stomach, pulling your tongue out and licking his happy trail, your hands moving to his belt, throwing it off of him. He watched eagerly, his eyes widening as you pulled off his pants and then his boxers, his hard cock springing against his stomach.

“You’re bigger than I thought you would be.” You mused, a shade of pink covering his cheeks now.

You went back up to kiss him again, his lips hungrily moving against your soft ones. You pulled away after a moment, and traveled back down to his cock.

“Wait, wait, are you sure?”

“More than sure.”

Oh fuck. That was hot.

His hips bucked when your mouth finally wrapped around his aching tip, letting out a low moan.

“Oh shit.” He murmured, his hands flying to your head. You put your hands at the base of his cock, while you let your mouth work around his girth. You swirled your tongue around it, and he felt like he was going to ascend into whatever heaven there was.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groaned out breathily when you looked up at him through your lashes, “you’re- you’re really fucking pretty.” He let out a noise that could only be compared to a whine, his hands tangling further in your hair, gently pulling at it without even realizing. His mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as he stared down at you, his eyebrows creasing together.

You set a faster pace, your mouth speedily moving up and down on his length, while he let out the most delicious sounds you think a person could make. You felt drool forming on the corner of your mouth.

His head fell back on the pillows behind him, despite his attempts to keep looking at you. He raised his head again, letting out a guttural groan when you swirled your tongue once again.

“Y/n-“ he spoke, you still looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that were slowly killing him. He couldn’t take it anymore. You felt his warm cum shoot into your mouth, him letting out a shocked groan, his head falling back against the pillow again.

You pulled away, kitten licking the tip of his cock, swallowing all of his seed.

“Oh god, oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He spoke rather embarrassed, covering his face with his hands. You smiled at him, tilting your head in confusion.

“You’re okay.” You said with a giggle, him looking at you now, moving his hands away from his face.

He gave you a sweet smile, “Uhm.. thank you. You’re- uhm- really, fucking good at that.”

“Really? Thank you…” you replied. He blushed under your gaze, and you smiled at his shyness. It was adorable.

He sat up on the bed, moving closer to you now. “Uhm… this might be a little… late, but, I- I really like you. And I was wondering if- uh- if maybe you’d wanna go on a date with me? Like- like a real one. With clothes, maybe.” He said with a nervous chuckle, you laughing along.

“I’d love to,” you replied, raising your hand so you could cradle his face, the both of your lips touching again, and the both of you falling back into his sheets.

[angelluvsrafe]

his first time

summary: awkwardly talking inexperienced rafe through sex

warnings: pre existing relationship, sexxx, characters are 18! MDNI!!!

writers notes: i feel like i yapped a bit and ruined it but oh well!

you and rafe have been dating for 4 months now, you never expect to end up with him at all. you always thought he was completely different to you so you didn’t talk to him until you two were paired up for a science project.

tonight, you and rafe are laying on your bed. you’re sitting up against your headboard with rafe between you legs with his head on your stomach, his big hands are playing with your belly bar. he’s quiet but that’s not anything out of the ordinary. you focus on your tv show.

“i wanna show you what i bought today…” you smile and gently remove yourself from under him and stand up. he sits up where you were against the headboard and you grab the shopping bags, walking into your bathroom to change.

you come out in a yellow dress, its about mid thigh length with a halter neck strap. you do a little spin and he smiles.

“that’s pretty…” he says just loud enough for you to hear him.

“should i keep it?” you tilt your head and look at yourself in the mirror.

“yeah… you could wear those white heels with it…” he nods.

“oh yeah! you’re a genius rafe…” you smile and walk into the bathroom again to get changed.

you come out yet again, you’re wearing a corset with a floral design on it. you hadn’t bothered putting pants back on so you’re just in your pink cotton underwear.

he looks up at you and his breath hitches. he nods immediately and swings his legs over this side of the bed, holding his hands out for you. you take his hands and he guides you to stand between his legs. his fingers trace the flowers on the corset, his eyes flickering back up to you, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

“you’re so beautiful, sweetheart…” he whispers and you smile, pecking his lips. he smiles and looks up at you like you’re a literal goddess.

you reach a hand out and stroke his now rosy cheeks, he leans into your touch. his hands now clasped in his lap.

“you can touch me you know… i am your girlfriend…” you smile, teasing him but trying not to embarrass him too much.

“y-yeah, i mean- like- of course i know that” his eyes shift to your chest then your lips then your eyes.

“touch me then, rafe…” you move a step closer, your cleavage right in his face.

he takes a deep breath and rests his hands on your waist.

“there you go…” you smile and run a hand through his hair.

he smiles and you lean down, gently kissing him. he kisses you back softly.

you giggle and pull away, you pulling his face up to look at you with your hand under his chin.

“you wanna take this corset off?” you smile, he nods enthusiastically and kiss his forehead then turn around, pulling your hair over your shoulder so he can reach the back of it.

he gently starts undoing it, he’s being so gentle. despite him being a lot bigger than you, he’s always gentle with you. no matter what.

he slowly pulls it off and you turn around. your perky breasts are right in his face. he doesn’t take his eyes off your face, a soft smile on his face and the rosy colour on his cheeks still persistent.

“do you want to have sex with me, handsome…?” you trail your finger over his jawline.

he nods and you giggle.

“you’ve never done this before, have you?” you straddle his lap.

“no… never… i’ve never been with another girl…” he shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist.

“you can grab me…” you move his hand to your chest.

he squeezes your breasts softly, rubbing his thumbs over your hard nipples.

“there you go…” you nod and he smiles.

he continues circling his thumb around your solid nipple. his lips parting.

“you can suck em…” his face lights up and he leans in, attaching his lips to your right breast, sucking it gently. he swirls his tongue around your nipple.

you moan and grind your core down against his lap. he smiles and pulls away, kissing you.

you kiss him back, grinding down on him as he groans. you trail soft yet hungry kisses down his neck, pulling his shirt over his head.

he hurries to unzip his pants and pull them down with his underwear. he’s dick bounces up and hits his belly button, tip bright red and already leaking glistening precum.

“so pretty… you’re doing so good…” you praise gently, shifting your position on his lap.

“can you do something for me, baby?” you kiss his cheek.

“yeah” he nods and you move to lay down on the bed, he follows you and sits between your legs.

“need you to finger me, baby…” you smile.

“okay, i can do that…” he nods, his face flushing even more.

you let your legs fall apart and he leans forward, attempting to rub your clit but missing it slightly. you reach down and adjust his finger placement and he gets more confident, nodding and continuing do run circles with his thumb.

you moan and drop your head back.

“you’re good, rafey…” you push your hips up. he switches to his other thumb and uses that one, slipping one finger into your tight pussy.

you moan and nod your head, silently telling him he’s doing good.

he slips another finger in and slowly pumps them in and out, making you gasp and moan loudly.

“keep going…” you pant and nod.

“is it okay like this…” he mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“curl your fingers a little…” you mumble and spread your legs further apart. reaching for his cock, pumping your hand up and down slowly. he grunts lowly and his hips jolt.

“you okay?”

“yeah, perfect” he moans out and pushes himself into your hands.

“you wanna be in me?” you tilt your head. he nods and pushes his swollen tip into your tight cunt. you moan loudly.

he fully sinks in, your desperate pussy sucking him in. he groans loudly and starts thrusting. he grabs your hands and holds them as he thrusts quicker. his hips slap against your butt over and over again.

“i’m gonna cum- fuck” he grunts and speeds his thrusts up.

you moan and lift your hips up and he pulls out, his cock shooting thick white ropes all over your stomach and chest.

you love your hand down and rub your clit to ride out your high.

“you’re so good, rafey… you knew more than i thought you did..” you smile as he lays next to you.

“i’m glad i could please you…” he wraps an arm around you and rests his head on your chest.

“where’d you learn what to do? porn?” you stroke his hair, he nods.

“mostly…”

“you’re coming out of your shell rafey… i’m so proud of you…” you smile and kiss his head, he lifts his head and pecks your lips.

after that night, rafe got more and more skilled and confident during sex and just in day to day life, you’re so smitten with him.

top divider by @uzmacchiato isn’t it so pretty!

[moondustbaby]

Checkmate, Baby

nerd!Rafe x sorority girl!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

summary: It’s halfway through the semester and Rafe’s been trying not to fall for his biology partner. But with his annual chess banquet coming up, he finally works up the nerve to ask her to be his date.

⸻

Rafe doesn’t mean to stare.

But you’re chewing on the end of your pen, a tiny crinkle between your brows as you skim over your shared notes, and you’ve got your nails painted this soft glittery pink that makes his throat go dry. You’re wearing a sweatshirt from your sorority, your legs tucked up under you on his twin bed like you’ve always belonged there.

“I’m thinking we test your reaction times next,” you say, glancing up at him. “Y’know, just to compare how caffeine hits differently.”

“Oh. Yeah. Cool.” Rafe nods too fast, nearly sending his pencil flying. “That’s good. Good idea.”

You grin. “You okay?”

“Fine. Perfect.” He laughs awkwardly and looks away, praying the heat in his ears isn’t as visible as it feels.

God, you make him nervous. Still. And you’ve been doing this for weeks.

It’s not like he hasn’t gotten to know you. You’re actually… nice. He was half-convinced you were just humoring him at first—some social experiment or sorority hazing ritual—but you’re smart, and kind, and always refill his water bottle when he forgets. You remember his favorite color. You ask about his research.

And maybe that’s why this whole chess banquet thing has him practically breaking out in hives.

“So,” he says finally, voice cracking halfway through. “There’s this, um… event thing. It’s dumb. Super dumb. You don’t have to come.”

You tilt your head. “What kind of event?”

“It’s—uh. It’s a chess banquet. End of season.” He rubs the back of his neck and refuses to make eye contact. “They make us go. There’s trophies. Lame speeches. But there’s food? And tables. And probably bad punch.”

He swallows. “And I was wondering if you might want to go. With me. Like… as my date.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

His stomach lurches. “It’s totally fine if not. I get it. It’s not your thing. You probably have better plans. Just forget I—”

“Rafe.” You smile softly, reaching over to touch his arm. “I would love to go with you.”

His eyes snap to yours. “You would?”

“Yeah!” you beam. “Like, are you kidding? A banquet? With trophies? And nerdy speeches? I’m so in. Should I wear a dress? Like, is it formal?”

He blinks at you. “I mean… kind of? I think people dress nice. Like, business casual. But you could wear… anything. You’d look—uh. Great. In anything.”

You giggle. “You’re cute.”

And he short-circuits right there.

⸻

By the time the banquet rolls around, Rafe’s sure he’s going to pass out.

You’d insisted on meeting at his dorm, and now you’re standing in his doorway, dress swishing around your thighs, a little black ribbon in your hair, and a smile that could kill him dead. You’re holding a tote bag with snacks “just in case,” and he has never felt more like a man in his life than when you reach for his arm without hesitation and say, “Ready, date?”

He can’t stop looking at you. You’re so excited to be there. Asking him about the other chess guys. Complimenting the dorky trophy table. Holding his hand under the table when his palms get sweaty from the guest speaker calling him “Cameron the Kingmaker.”

At one point, you even say—dead serious—“I hope there’s a team photo. I want to be in it.”

Rafe nearly faints.

Later, he walks you back to your sorority house. You’re barefoot, heels in hand, still glowing from the cheap sparkling cider they handed out like champagne.

“I had so much fun,” you say, spinning in front of him. “Thank you for asking me.”

He ducks his head, sheepish. “I thought you might laugh at me.”

You frown. “Why would I laugh?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not exactly the kind of guy sorority girls usually go for.”

“Well, lucky for you,” you say, stepping in close and booping his nose with your finger, “I don’t go for just any guy.”

Then, before he can short-circuit again, you press a kiss to his cheek. “Night, lab boy.”

And he just stands there on the sidewalk, grinning like an idiot.

a/n: i LOVED writing this. flustered boy genius + supportive pretty girl?? my roman empire. i’ll never recover from rafe saying “uh. you could wear anything” while internally combusting. sorry this took me a bit to get to, but thank you so much for sending a request in angel!! 🫶🏻

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@tiaajosephin @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[rafesangelita]

…NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚👛⊹♡

NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER who first spoke on the phone with each other when bitchy!pogue!reader found nerd!rafe’s number in an ad that was posted on a bulletin board inside the only library on kildare island. she decided to give him a call when his flyer stated that he offered aid to those who required a little help enrolling in school, tutoring, and any other academic services that may be needed. seeing as bitchy!pogue!reader wanted to start going to school for fashion and business, she saved the piece of paper with rafe’s number and stuffed it at the bottom of her purse and forgot all about it until she got back home. “i would love to help you, would you say you’re available to meet tomorrow at the library around two o’clock in the afternoon?” he asked, scribbling down her information once she agreed to meet.

NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER who were both taken aback once they were sitting next to each other. bitchy!pogue!reader couldn’t help but flirt with him once she found nerd!rafe incredibly charming and sweet, the glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose making him look innocent and a tad bit shy. nerd!rafe on the other hand is absolutely enthralled and terrified at the same time when he saw a bombshell like bitchy!pogue!reader approaching him in nothing but a push-up bra, a bodycon dress, and pink pleaser heels adorning her feet. “are you rafe?” on top of him being star struck, he also loved the sound of her voice, its sugary sweet tone making his heart beat erratically in his chest. everything about her, from the body glitter sparkling against her skin, to the cotton candy scent of her perfume, he was obsessed.

NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER who began seeing each other everyday, both of them going over test prep, material checklists and enrollment forms. “do you have any tech equipment by any chance? you know, so you could do homework or get a headstart on any assignments?” she blinked at him, pulling out her outdated pink blackberry. “i just have this.” rafe nodded, eyes flickering between her glossy lips and the small device in her hands. “okay.. well, i’ll make sure that changes soon.” without knowing what he meant by that, she was in for the shock of her life when rafe surprised her the next day with a macbook pro and an ipad. “i don’t normally do this.. like ever— but i want you to have the proper learning tools to help you out. i truly believe you have so much potential.” bitchy!pogue!reader kissed him when she accepted the gifts, having never been supported like this before.

NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER who often get distracted from their studies due to bitchy!pogue!reader’s advances. yawning, she’ll reach back and stretch her arms up until the hem of her crop top reveals the underside of her tits, the pretty, plump swells of her breasts making nerd!rafe’s cheeks turn bright red. “i think we should take a break..” she’d suggest, resting her hand on top of his thigh underneath the table. rafe was a nervous wreck anytime she was in close proximity with him, let alone when her hands were on him, he couldn’t help the small beads of sweat forming on his forehead as her manicured fingers inched closer and closer to where he ached for her with need. “i-i don’t think that’s appropriate to do here— oh..” nerd!rafe panicked internally when she palmed the growing bulge in his trousers, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he surrendered to her touch.

NERD!RAFE X BITCHY!POGUE!READER who celebrate all of her academic victories; both big and small. “alright, let me see..” rafe would be scrolling through her school portal, her grades illuminating the screen as he looked over the numbers. pacing nervously behind him, she’d squeal in excitement when rafe would cheer her on, his chest filling with pride as she took a seat in his lap, pressing kisses to his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “see how smart you are, doll? i told you that you could do it.” he’d praise her, his words melting her heart. bitchy!pogue!reader was so used to everyone telling her that she should just worry about what her next nail set should look like and not about going to school or starting her own little fashion line. “you’re the only person that has listened to my ideas and took me seriously..” she pouted up at him, “how could i ever thank you for that?”

୨୧ nerd!rafe finds *pictures* of you on your laptop

[palevcr]

── CAM ACTIVITIES ⊹ ࣪ ˖

SUMMARY: After a date, she curls into his lap—lip-glossed, lace-wrapped, and all slow-burning mischief—Rafe doesn’t just want to fuck her, he wants to remember her. So when she hands him her scratched-up Canon and tells him to get her good side, he films everything

genre: smut-heavy, emotional intimacy, camera voyeurism, obsession through a grainy lens, slow reverence, tender filth, post-coital softness, femdom-leaning dynamic, Rafe being undone by beauty

pairing: nerd!rafe cameron x 2007angel!reader

tw: MDNI +18, explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), filming (consensual), size kink/praise kink undertones, dirty talk, eye contact, hair pulling, overstimulation, post-sex cuddling, slight cum play if you squint really hard and do a backflip, thigh-highs, black lace lingerie, deepthroating, soft dom/sub undertones, creampie, body worship, Rafe whimpering/begging/falling apart, face-fucking (gentle), vaginal sex (reader on top + missionary), breeding kink subtext, male moaning, camera angle obsession, reader falling asleep on his chest, Rafe sending a post-sex pic to Topper & Kelce out of pure male ego

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 5.4k words of just pure smut is crazy. I’m fine guys, just ovulating

They were in his bedroom, cloistered away from the sun-bleached opulence of the Cameron estate, tucked beneath the dull whir of the air conditioning unit that rattled faintly in the corner like a nervous tic. The door had been locked with quiet deliberation, the click swallowed by the carpeted hush of the room—a necessary precaution in a house where privacy was a foreign concept, where Wheezie had a habit of returning unannounced and Sarah’s brand of intrusion came with theatrical door slams and shrieked warnings. But none of that mattered right now. Not with her here. Not with Y/n—angel-eyed, lip-glossed, knee-socked chaos curled up in his lap like a bad idea he couldn’t quit.

They’d been circling this moment for days—texts blurring the line between flirtation and provocation, late-night grainy selfies that left his hands twitching over his waistband, voice notes that sounded like secrets. The tension hadn’t built so much as thickened, like smoke in a locked room. And now it pressed down on them, heavy and heated and real, as she straddled him where he lay back on the bed, hips grinding against his with languid, deliberate rhythm, the drag of her body through denim and cotton making him clench his jaw so hard his teeth ached.

Her fingers curled around his throat—not hard, not cruel, just guiding—tilting his head up so she could kiss him messily, open-mouthed and tasting like the cherry lip balm she always reapplied before selfies, like the strawberry milkshake he’d bought her earlier before they’d gone record shopping and she’d made him carry her tote bag like a boyfriend. His hands had found her hips immediately, gripping the waistband of her skirt, his thumbs pressing little bruises into the plush skin there, as if anchoring himself to reality through her.

When she moaned softly into his mouth, Rafe made a sound he’d be embarrassed to hear aloud—a low, desperate groan from somewhere deep in his throat as his hips bucked up against hers, chasing friction like a man dying of thirst. He let his hands glide upward beneath her shirt, fingertips brushing over warm skin until he found her breasts, cupping them like he couldn’t believe they were real, like they might vanish if he wasn’t careful. She was still kissing him, still letting him taste her, dragging her lips down to his jaw, then his neck, slow and indulgent like she had all the time in the world to ruin him.

His head dropped back against the pillows, breath catching, lashes fluttering like he was overwhelmed by her. And he was. Utterly. Completely. His voice came quiet, raw, a little cracked with arousal. “Can I ask you something?” he murmured, already breathless. “Well, fuck—more of a favor.”

“I’m listening,” she said, between slow, sucking kisses on his neck that left heat blooming across his skin.

He hesitated, mouth opening and closing, and she leaned back slightly to look down at him—her hair mussed, eyes glittering with interest, lips swollen and glossy. Rafe licked his own lips, glasses slightly askew and fogging with every heated breath. He looked undone already, like she’d short-circuited something essential.

“I was wondering if I could…” He swallowed hard, eyes flicking away for a second. “If I could maybe—possibly—record? Us. I mean. Just us.”

Her body stilled, slightly, just enough for him to feel the way she considered it. He froze, too, trying not to buck up into her as she sat fully upright on his lap. The look she gave him was unreadable—arched brow, slightly parted lips—and for a moment Rafe genuinely thought she might slap him.

Panic spilled out of him in a flood. “Okay—okay, I know how that sounds, but I swear, it’d be just for me. Just me. I’d never post it or save it somewhere unsafe or—fuck, I wouldn’t even keep it if you told me not to. It’s just—” He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Fine, maybe I wanted to show Topper and Kelce. Maybe. Just to prove I’m not totally bitchless. That I can pull, like, the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. But that’s it, I swear. They wouldn’t get to keep it or anything. Just one quick look. On my screen. Not theirs. You could sue me if I lie, I don’t even care—take my car, my records, fuckin’—my dignity. Whatever’s left of it.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just stared at him with that half-lidded gaze that made him feel like she could read his thoughts—which was a terrifying possibility, considering what he’d been thinking about since she first stepped into his room.

Then, slowly, her lips pulled into a smile—small, syrup-sweet, crooked like mischief. She turned toward the nightstand, reached into her bag, and rummaged through it until her fingers found what she was looking for. When she turned back, she dropped it into his trembling hands.

A Canon digital camera. Early 2000s. Scratched silver body, plastic casing worn down, the corners kissed with rhinestones. The kind of camera that doesn’t smooth your skin or hide the sweat beading on your brow. The kind that catches everything in stark, honest grain—raw, intimate, unfiltered.

Rafe stared at it like it was holy. His fingers shook around the device, eyes wide, glasses slipping further down the bridge of his nose. His mouth dropped open a little, blinking like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. “Oh fuck me,” he whispered. “Are you serious?”

She nodded, smiling wider now, eyeliner smudged just enough to look deliberate, her mouth glossy and kiss-bruised. “Only if you get my good side.”

And just like that, he was gone for her all over again.

“I might just be in love with you,” Rafe murmured, the words tumbling from his lips before he had the chance to second-guess them. His voice was wrecked with something half-reverent, half-ashamed, like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud but couldn’t stop himself.

Y/n snorted, not unkindly—soft and amused in that way she always was when he got too earnest for his own good. “Just turn the camera on, dork,” she said, her voice a little huskier now, all cherry cola and heat, as she leaned back and pulled her hoodie up over her head. The motion was lazy, unbothered, her eyes on him the entire time, like she liked watching him squirm.

Her top followed, discarded with the same quiet nonchalance, and she was left in nothing but those ridiculously tiny shorts—low-rise and frayed—and a black lace bra that hugged her like sin. The dark cotton of her thigh-high socks hugged the curve of her legs, trailing up toward the creamy expanse of her thighs, a detail so stupidly erotic Rafe felt something seize in his chest.

He couldn’t even speak—just stared, mouth parted, glasses slipping further down his nose as his fingers fumbled uselessly with the camera. It took three tries to locate the right button, hands trembling as he powered it on. The familiar low whir of it starting up filled the room, mechanical and intimate. The red light blinked, and suddenly the moment had weight.

He lifted the camera, angling the screen toward her, swallowing thickly. She smiled—slow and sultry, mischief curling at the edges of her lips—and rolled her hips down against him again.

“Fuck,” he gasped, the word punched out of him as the camera trembled slightly in his grip. It was focused now, the grainy little lens capturing the precise way she moved against the thick strain in his jeans, how her hips tilted with deliberate rhythm, cruelly slow. It caught the flex of her thighs, the twitch of his hands, the bruising grip he had on her waist like he was scared she might drift out of frame—or worse, away from him.

He tilted the camera down, filming the drag of her over him, the obscene way her shorts barely covered anything, the dip of her pelvis grinding against him like she knew what it did to him. His other hand ghosted up the outside of her thigh, slow and reverent, before gripping hard—tight, fingers sinking into soft flesh like he needed an anchor, something real to keep him grounded or else he might just float off into the ether.

Every nerve in his body felt raw, lit up like wire. He looked up from the camera to her, eyes wide, reverent. She looked like a fever dream—flushed and perfect, the glow from his bedside lamp haloing her in soft gold. Her hair was mussed, lip gloss half-kissed off, eyes low-lidded and sparkling with amusement and heat.

She reached down, curling her fingers into the hem of her shorts, and Rafe just about forgot how to breathe.

She rose onto her knees with a languid grace, hands slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts, shimming them down her hips in one fluid, unhurried motion. The fabric clung for a moment before surrendering, pooling around her knees and then kicked aside. Now she knelt before him in nothing but the matching black lace set—delicate, semi-sheer, and criminally well-fitted—and those inky thigh-high socks that somehow made it worse. Or better. Or both.

Rafe felt like something inside him might short-circuit. His grip on the camera tightened, trying to steady the frame, but his hands were visibly trembling now. His breath hitched audibly as she leaned forward, placing a single, soft kiss low on his stomach, just beneath his navel. It was barely anything—just her lips, warm and teasing—but it made his spine go rigid, like she’d whispered a secret into his skin.

She moved with an unhurried confidence, fingers undoing his belt with slow deliberation, eyes flicking up once to meet his—something glinting there, wicked and knowing. Rafe swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and lifted his hips instinctively as she tugged his jeans down over his thighs, revealing the pale skin beneath, the sharp cut of his hips, and the obvious strain beneath his boxers.

He licked his lips unconsciously, glasses slipping down his nose again as he stared at her over the camera, trying to focus, trying to document her the way he wanted to remember this—perfect and pixelated, like a private film only he would ever watch.

She leaned in again, trailing her mouth lower this time, pressing a soft kiss over the prominent bulge beneath the fabric of his Calvin Kleins. The contact was almost tender, and yet it felt like a jolt of electricity through his entire system. Rafe's head dropped back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as a ragged breath tore from his throat.

“Fucking hell,” he exhaled, voice broken and desperate.

“Sensitive much?” she murmured, amusement curling at the corners of her voice as she smiled against him. Her tone was soft but sharp enough to tease, threaded through with that signature silk-and-cigarette sweetness he was already addicted to.

Then, slow as a film reel burning through its final frame, she hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and began to tug. The elastic gave way with a soft snap, and his cock sprang free—thick, flushed, hard to the point of pain, the head glistening where precum beaded.

Rafe could barely think, could barely breathe, the camera in his hand dipping slightly before he remembered to lift it again, adjusting the focus, swallowing back the strangled sound clawing up his throat. She hadn’t even touched him properly yet and he already felt close to unraveling.

She glanced up at him, lashes low and lips parted, like she was taking in a piece of art instead of the writhing, undone mess sprawled out beneath her. Her fingers ghosted along his thighs, slow and featherlight, just barely tracing the lines of muscle as her eyes flicked back to his cock, studying the way it twitched in anticipation, how flushed and desperate he already looked for her.

And he was—God, he was. Rafe could barely hold the camera steady, the grainy lens catching her every move like it was sacred. Her kneeling between his legs, black lace and thigh-high cotton like something out of a low-res daydream. Her lip gloss was still there—barely—but now slightly smudged, mouth swollen from kissing and smiling and knowing.

She leaned in again, lips brushing over the underside of his cock like a promise, her breath warm and teasing against him. Rafe let out a guttural sound, low and hoarse, his free hand curling into the sheets like he needed to hold on to something, anything.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, voice cracking into a laugh that dissolved into a groan when she licked a slow, lazy stripe up the vein running along the underside, just enough pressure to make his hips buck involuntarily.

“Good,” she murmured, grinning against the sensitive skin before she wrapped her hand around the base, holding him steady, thumb brushing over the leaking tip with a touch that bordered on cruel.

Rafe’s head tipped back with a sharp gasp, camera wavering before he steadied it again, breath shaking. The red light was still blinking. Still recording. Still real.

And then—God—her mouth was on him.

Warm. Wet. Slow. She took him in with practiced ease, lips sealing around the head and tongue swirling just enough to make his eyes roll back. Her hand worked the base with a rhythm that matched the slow bob of her head, sucking him down in languid strokes, no rush, no mercy.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t look away.

The screen in his hand showed everything in shaky, sacred detail—the soft drag of her lips, the way her cheeks hollowed out, the flash of tongue, the flex of her fingers on his thigh.

Rafe was trembling, every muscle tight and straining, his moans fractured and high in his throat. “Fuck, baby, f—fuck, you look so good,” he rasped, unable to stop the litany of praise tumbling out now. “Like a fucking dream. My fucking angel—”

She hummed around him at that, eyes flicking up through her lashes, and the vibration of her moan sent him hurtling toward the edge. His grip on the camera tightened like he could somehow preserve the moment forever—the grain, the light, the low whimper he made as her mouth sank deeper.

He was unraveling, heart pounding against his ribcage like it was trying to claw out, sweat clinging to his skin, glasses askew, hair damp at his temples.

And all he could see was her—her mouth stretched around him, lips slick and red, so fucking pretty like this, and all his.

“Look up, baby,” Rafe whispered, voice paper-thin and reverent, as if the sight of her alone might shatter him. His breath stuttered as she obeyed, lashes lifting slowly, gaze locking with his through the grainy filter of lust and low light. Her eyes gleamed—glassy, coy, obedient—and her lips were stretched obscenely around him, slick and parted wide, drool beginning to sheen at the corners.

He nearly dropped the camera.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, the words catching in his throat, “so fucking pretty…”

The hand not clutching the trembling camera reached down, gentle fingers brushing a curtain of her hair from her cheek, tucking it carefully behind her ear as if that would somehow make it less indecent, less overwhelming. But it only made her look more obscene—beautiful in a way that didn’t feel real. Like something he’d conjured, stitched together from every daydream and note-app fantasy he’d ever suffered through alone in the dark.

His palm slid lower to cup her jaw, thumb stroking beneath her chin as she hollowed her cheeks around him. He whimpered—actually whimpered—hips lifting slightly off the mattress as he pressed himself deeper into the wet heat of her mouth. And she let him.

Didn’t flinch, didn’t resist—just let him guide the rhythm, let him fuck into her mouth like she wanted it. Like she liked the way his cock twitched against her tongue. The little gasps and strangled moans that spilled from his mouth were involuntary, soft and high and cracking at the edges as if he couldn’t hold himself together even if he tried.

“F-fuck… fuck, baby,” he whimpered, voice nearly inaudible beneath the whir of the camera’s mic. He adjusted the grip, bringing it closer, closer still, until the frame filled with nothing but the obscene glide of her mouth over his cock—lips flushed and glistening, jaw working, a string of spit hanging from her chin like a thread of silk.

The camera stuttered slightly as his hands trembled. He zoomed in. He couldn’t help himself. The red light blinked, and in its dim glow, she looked like something unreal. A dream. A sin. A miracle wrapped in thigh-high socks and black lace.

She moaned around him, soft and guttural, the vibration pulsing through him like lightning, and Rafe's head dropped back into the pillow with a broken cry—utterly ruined, glasses fogged, stomach tight, toes curled, and so fucking close to falling apart beneath her.

Rafe's hips jerked upward, entirely out of his control, the motion sharp and instinctive when her tongue—cool metal glinting—dragged deliberately across the sensitive slit at the head of his cock. The piercing was maddening, a tease made crueler by the softness of her mouth surrounding it. His stomach clenched, breath torn straight from his lungs like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Okay—nngh—don’t fucking do that,” he gasped, voice cracking somewhere between a whimper and a plea, the camera trembling in his hands. “Holy fuck. Don’t—don’t do that again, I’m gonna cum way too quick, fuck, fuck…”

But she only giggled, low and syrupy, the vibration of her laugh humming against the underside of him before she did it again, tongue rolling over the tip with infuriating precision. Rafe choked out a sound that wasn’t even human, spine arching off the bed like he’d been electrocuted.

His hand flew to her hair, fingers curling into the strands, not to shove or pull but anchor—a desperate tether to reality as he gently tugged her back, trying to put even a breath of distance between her mouth and his impending collapse.

“I fucking hate you for that,” he panted, his voice hoarse, disbelieving, like she’d just hexed him.

But she only looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the corners of her lips curling around the spit-slick head of his cock in a smile that was all mischief and command. “No you don’t,” she purred, voice thick with satisfaction, breath warm against his skin.

Before he could respond—before he could even think—she sank back down, swallowing him again in one slow, devastating motion, lips sliding over him with obscene ease.

Rafe’s head fell back against the pillow with a groan so soft it sounded like prayer. His fingers tightened in her hair as she bobbed her head, finding a rhythm that was both deliberate and devastating, like she wanted him trembling, like she likedhaving this much power.

The camera, forgotten for a moment, dipped slightly as his arm lost strength—capturing a raw, perfect angle of her mouth wrapped around him, spit slicking her chin, her throat working with every drag.

When he felt the pressure begin to mount—hips twitching, thighs taut, breath faltering in shallow bursts—Rafe gave a gentle, trembling nudge against the back of her head, fingers still tangled in her hair like he was asking, please. She didn’t resist. Didn’t flinch. She let him guide her deeper, slow and steady, taking him into the velvet heat of her throat until he was fully seated, her nose brushing the base, her hands braced against his hips to steady herself.

His other hand, the one still clutching the Canon, lifted with shaky precision, angling the lens downward to capture it—her mouth completely full, lips stretched wide, spit glistening, her throat bulging around him as she held him there like she could take all of him and more.

And then—his body stiffened, eyes flying wide for a heartbeat before fluttering shut, lips parted in a gasping exhale. His release hit hard, sudden and overwhelming, pouring into her with a cry that cracked at the edges. His grip on her hair tightened just enough to hold her there, to keep him buried deep as she swallowed around him, the convulsing of her throat only intensifying the aftershocks that rattled through him. She gagged once, a soft, choked sound as the tip nudged the back of her throat, but she didn’t stop. She took all of it, every last drop.

When it was over, she pulled back slowly, his cock sliding from her lips with a wet sound that made his spent body twitch, a thin string of saliva still clinging to her tongue before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes met his—dark, satisfied, smug—and Rafe could do nothing but collapse back into the pillows, eyes closed, chest heaving.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, voice raw, barely there. His body was boneless, flushed and limp and ruined.

But that blissful stillness didn’t last.

Because before he could even come down completely, he saw her shimmy out of the last remaining scrap of black lace, sliding her panties down her thighs with maddening ease. His heart stuttered. She climbed back over him, straddling him again like she’d earned it—and she had—hips poised over him, her skin flushed and glowing, lips still damp, eyes half-lidded with intent.

He watched—helpless and hypnotized—as she reached between them, fingers wrapping around his now-sensitive cock, still slick from her mouth, guiding him through the wet heat of her folds. Just once. Twice. And then—

“Jesus,” Rafe whispered, breath hitched, as the camera caught the moment her hips sank, slow and smooth, taking him in inch by aching inch. The lens trembled as he zoomed in, capturing the obscene beauty of it—the stretch, the wet slide, the perfect way she molded around him.

“Fuck,” she moaned, her head falling back, lips parting on a gasp, spine arching beautifully as she took him to the hilt. Her brows furrowed in pleasure, lashes fluttering like she could barely keep her eyes open.

Rafe's eyes flicked between the viewfinder and the real thing, completely mesmerized. He tilted the camera upward, just in time to catch the full scope of her wrecked expression—eyes shut, mouth open, cheeks flushed, looking like something holy come undone.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, reverently, like he was confessing to a sin and begging for it to never end. His free hand slid up to her hip, fingers pressing into the soft curve there, grounding himself as her warmth surrounded him.

He could feel her pulse around him. Hear the way she gasped softly through every inch she took. And all he could think—blinking up at her through fogged lenses and a camera shaking in his grip—was that he never wanted to forget a single second of this.

She rode him like she knew she was being watched, liked being watched—by him, by the red blinking eye of the camera, by the hunger in his gaze that devoured every motion, every twitch of her hips, every breathless little whimper she let slip. Her hands braced against his chest, nails leaving soft crescents in his skin as she rocked on top of him in slow, controlled waves, grinding down with that practiced roll of her hips like she’d done this a thousand times in her mind. Maybe she had.

Her thighs flexed with every motion, the black cotton of her socks hugging just below the soft swell of her skin, sticky now with sweat and the slick mess between them. She was drenched—Rafe could see it, feel it—how wet she was, how her cunt gripped him every time she lifted and sank again, pulling him deeper with each pass. He couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop filming. Couldn’t stop watching.

The camera was angled up now, catching the curve of her body as she bounced gently, the lace of her bra askew, one strap fallen, tits rising and falling with every movement. Her head tipped back, lips parted, the softest sounds leaving her throat—pretty, whimpering gasps that made his hips buck involuntarily beneath her.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” Rafe rasped, the hand not holding the camera sliding up her side, gripping her waist tight, trying to steady the ache building behind his ribs. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so fucking perfect. Putting on a show for me, huh?”

She looked down at him through heavy lashes, sweat dotting her temple, hair clinging to her damp cheeks. “Mhm,” she breathed, a breathless smile curling at her lips, “Figured I’d give you something worth replaying.”

And fuck if she wasn’t succeeding. Every bounce, every grind, every time she circled her hips like she was milking him, Rafe nearly lost it. He zoomed in again, the shaky lens capturing the perfect, raw glide of his cock disappearing inside her soaked heat, the way her pussy clung to him, slick and tight and fluttering.

But soon—too soon—her thighs started to tremble, rhythm faltering as she let out a soft, desperate noise and collapsed forward onto his chest, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Rafe…” she whimpered, voice cracked and breathless, “I can’t—I can’t anymore.”

And that was all he needed.

Rafe didn’t hesitate. In one fluid, breathless motion, he set the camera down at the edge of the bed—careful to not knock it off the bed—before gripping her hips and flipping them, rolling her onto her back and settling between her legs with a low, feral groan. Her thighs fell open for him instinctively, and he didn’t even pause.

He grabbed the camera again with one hand, held it steady, and watched through the screen as he guided his cock back to her glistening cunt. She was pulsing around nothing, wet and twitching and begging to be filled again.

He lined himself up, nudged the swollen head against her entrance—and then pushed in, slow and unrelenting, splitting her open again with a deep, broken moan.

The camera caught everything. The wet sound of him sliding back into her soaked heat. The obscene way her hole stretched around him, fluttering, like she was trying to keep him inside. The way her thighs jerked and her stomach tensed, hands flying to his shoulders as her back arched off the bed.

���Look at that,” Rafe breathed, voice wrecked, staring through the lens with something like awe. “Fuck, look at how you take me. Look at that pussy, baby—spasming around my dick like she missed me.”

She cried out, incoherent, writhing beneath him as he bottomed out, hips flush against her, free hand gripping her thigh now as he started to fuck into her properly—hard, deep, slow enough to feel every drag and squeeze.

The camera rocked with every thrust, catching every slick sound, every obscene inch of him disappearing into her tight, quivering heat. And Rafe—sweat-slicked, flushed, glasses half-off his face—looked like a man possessed.

Like he’d never stop.
Like he’d fuck her through the lens and straight into memory.

He drove into her with a rhythm that had long since abandoned restraint—sharp, deliberate thrusts that hit so deep she could feel him in her ribs. The bed creaked beneath them, his hips smacking into hers, the sound echoing low and guttural under her breathless moans.

The camera, still clutched in one hand, captured the frantic blur of their bodies moving in tandem. His other hand—broad, warm, possessive—slid between them and found her clit with ease, two fingers circling the neglected bundle of nerves with unrelenting precision.

Her reaction was immediate.

She arched clean off the bed, a broken cry tumbling from her throat as her back bowed and her thighs trembled. Her cunt clenched around him in tight, rhythmic pulses that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Yeah?” Rafe panted, dark eyes locked on the way her body writhed under him. “You gonna cum, baby? Hm? You gonna fall apart on me?”

She could barely manage a nod, lips parted around a soundless gasp, eyes rolling back as her muscles began to flutter violently around him.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, voice hoarse, his thumb drawing tight circles, “Cum for me. Let go—fuck—I got you.”

And then she did.

With a soft, shattered sob, her legs wrapped around his hips, locking him in place as her orgasm tore through her—spasming, fluttering, her pussy milking his cock with desperate urgency.

“F-fuck,” Rafe hissed, eyes screwing shut as the spasms dragged him under with her. Her warmth, her tightness, the way she clenched around him like she needed every drop—he couldn’t hold on.

His own orgasm slammed into him with a choked whimper, hips jerking as he spilled inside her, filling her to the brim in thick, pulsing waves.

He buried himself to the hilt, riding it out as she trembled beneath him, both of them breathless, slick with sweat, dazed in the aftermath.

“Fucking hell…” he exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, tenderly, he withdrew, hissing softly as her walls clung to him all the way out. A lazy, milky trail of cum followed, slicking her thighs and the sheets below.

Rafe adjusted the camera with one last lazy flick of his wrist, angling it toward the mess between her legs, zooming in on the way his release leaked from her swollen, spent pussy. His lips curved into a smug little grin as he admired the sight—like he’d just made art.

After a beat, he turned the lens up toward her face.

She lay motionless, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, skin flushed and glowing in the low light. Completely fucked-out. Utterly ethereal.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, so softly it was almost to himself, as if the moment was too sacred for anything louder.

He switched off the camera. Waited to make sure it saved. Then set it carefully on the bedside table like something precious, irreplaceable.

Rafe sank back onto the mattress beside her, chest still heaving, muscles trembling faintly. He pulled her to him without a word, letting her nestle against his chest, her bare skin warm and damp against his.

She tucked her head beneath his chin, eyelids already drooping, breath slowing with the quiet ease of sleep beginning to take her.

Rafe blinked up at the ceiling, hand absently stroking her back, the silence thick and sweet.

In his arms, she sighed—and within moments, she was gone.

Rafe had just begun to slip into that warm, post-orgasmic haze of sleep—his breathing shallow, her weight soft and grounding on his chest—when his phone buzzed obnoxiously against the nightstand.

He groaned, reaching out blindly with one hand, careful not to jostle her. His fingers wrapped around the phone, screen flaring to life. Predictably, it was them.

Topper (1:14 a.m.)

bro get on apex or kill urself

Kelce (1:14 a.m.)

you promised we’d clear the goddamn event tonight

Topper (1:15 a.m.)

rafe don’t be a whore answer us

Rafe snorted under his breath. His thumb hovered over the keyboard—but instead of replying, he flicked open the camera app. He angled the phone so it caught the image perfectly: him, shirtless, flushed, a crooked, smug little grin tugging at his lips. And draped across his chest, fast asleep and bare-skinned save for the soft drape of his sheet, was her. Completely knocked out. Her cheek rested just above his heart, mouth parted, lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks.

He snapped the pic. A single quiet trophy.

And then, with a devil-may-care swipe, he dropped it into the group chat—a chat that, truthfully, was less a place for actual communication and more a running chaos log of their unfiltered bullshit. Gaming scores, porn links, thirst traps, conspiracy theories, and Topper’s latest attempts at TikTok fame all fought for dominance. This? This was content.

The response was instant.

Kelce (1:16 a.m.)

my boy got laid🙏🏿 God is real

Topper (1:16 a.m.)

pls tell me u filmed it

Kelce (1:16 a.m.)

pervert. did you tho👀

Topper (1:17 a.m.)

I WILL LITERALLY GIVE YOU MY GOOD KIDNEY FOR IT🙏🏻

Kelce (1:17 a.m.)

why the fuck do you only have one good kidney???

Topper (1:17 a.m.)

can you question my lifestyle choices some other time please?? RAFE GOT LAID

Topper (1:17 a.m.)

with a hot girl

Kelce (1:17 a.m.)

and she looks completely fucked out

Topper (1:17 a.m.)

bro she looks like she got sent to the astral plane 💀 wtf did you do to her???

Kelce (1:18 a.m.)

don’t explain just send a tape. cause I know your horny ass recorded at LEAST SOMETHING

Rafe rolled his eyes, though a crooked smirk tugged at his lips anyway. He tucked the phone under his arm and glanced down at her.

She was still fast asleep, the rise and fall of her breathing slow and even, her lashes fluttering faintly like she was dreaming. Probably something soft. Or maybe something filthy.

Either way, he wasn’t about to tell them anything.

They could use their imaginations.

— all rights reserved © PALEVCR all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate nor repost as yours.

[cameronsbabydoll]

hii idk if you've done this but i'd love to see your take on like nerd!rafe putting mean popular reader in her place! (btw your writing is soso good sexist!rafey is literally my man my man)

“extra credit” — dark!nerd!loser!rafe

you always thought he was a loser.

pale, quiet, eyes always flicking to your thighs in lecture like he didn’t want to be caught. like he didn’t already know what color your panties were. because he did. he had pictures. cameras. notes. you made fun of him once—laughed when he dropped his pen in front of you and blushed when you bent over to pick it up.

you thought that power was yours.

but now you’re tied to a chair in his apartment—nails broken, mascara smudged—and he’s standing over you with a smug, patient smile, like he’s finally solved a math problem that’s been bothering him for years.

“you thought you were better than me,” he says softly, like he’s explaining it for a class. “just because you’re pretty. because you’re loud. because you got fingered in the frat house bathroom by some lacrosse player who probably can’t even spell his own name.”

he crouches. grabs your chin. forces you to look at him.

“but guess what, sweetheart?”

he leans in, breath warm against your cheek.

“i aced every class. i got into med school. and you are just a scared little slut in my basement now. so who wins, huh?”

you try to spit in his face. he laughs.

and then he backhands you. not hard. just enough to make your lip split, just enough to make you cry. and it’s so satisfying when you do.

“there she is,” he murmurs, tracing the blood with his thumb. “my little project. finally ready to learn.”

[idontknowtheendd]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. nerd!rafe P!links | MDNI

nerd!rafe eats you out like a starved man :3

jerking off sub!nerd!rafe

he lovesss your thighs

nerd!rafe eating you out with his glasses (this one’s so yummy)

nerd!rafe nd dry humping

making out with him is the best

he loves your body

nerd!rafe needs to relieve his stress after finals

his size kink goes crazyyy

He really likes his tech-deck

I’ll be updating this when I find others as well :3 ! I’ve never done one of these so.. lol

(this is @gh0stsp1d3r’s alt blog btw!)

[hearts4hughes]

ೃ࿔:･ popular!reader finds nerd!rafe’s journal

class ends with the clicks of a computers and the zipper of bags. you’re halfway out the door, lipgloss glinting under fluorescent lights, when something thuds to the floor behind you. a journal—cheap spiral-bound, cover decorated with pressed stickers and absentminded doodles.

“isn’t that cameron’s?” harper whispers behind you, her tone sharp with entertainment. “god, it’s his little diary. how sweet.” she pouts with a faux frown, her eyes glittering with anything but pity.

stacy giggles, “i almost feel bad for him. someone should grab it before he starts crying.” she chews her gum, popping a large, pink bubble.

you roll your eyes but your fingers are already curling around the cover. you’re not sure if it’s pity or power that possesses you to pick it up, but it may just be the way he looks at you. like you’re the sun and he’s a planet feasting off of your light.

you crack the journal open. the back of it facing your friends, shielding them from his deepest secrets…and jesus.

pages and pages. sketches of you biting your lip. of your thighs in that tennis skirt. of your bare back, your bra strap slipping off your shoulder. of you bent over a desk, mouth parted, lashes low.

you flip another page and almost gasp at the writing.

i’d ruin her. i’d kiss her like i was starving. i’d let her call me pathetic if she sat on my face while doing it. i wouldn’t even care.

your fingers are suddenly too warm, heartbeat clicking up a notch. you slam the journal shut.

“what’s it say?” harper asks, fingertips reaching to grab the book. you snatch it away, hoping they don’t notice your flushed cheeks.

“n-nothing,” you say too fast, voice an octave higher. your friends raise their brows. “it’s just school notes. nothing exciting.”

they huff and roll their eyes, muttering things about how weird he is. the conversation changes onto stacy’s new boyfriend within seconds. like rafe doesn’t exist, like you aren’t holding a journal full of nude drawings and fantasies of you.

~

you find him in the library after sunset, hunched over a laptop with his knee bouncing like a jackhammer. “hey,” your voice is sickly sweet. you’re clad in a mini skirt and an off the shoulder sweater. little did you know, rafe’s had many daydreams of ripping that same sweater in half.

he jerks up, eyes wide, and glasses slightly askew. his cock stirs in his pants. then he sees what you’re holding—the same notebook he’s spilled his every dream about you into. the color drains from his face. “i, uh-” he fumbles, hand shooting out, “shit, that’s not-i didn’t mean for anyone to-”

“i read it,” you say, soft, not cruel, not mocking, just honest. his lips part and he looks like he might pass out. you lean in, close enough he can smell your strawberry shampoo and feel the brush of your breath.

“next time,” you murmur, voice dipped in honey, “draw me in red. it’s my favorite color.” you press a kiss to his cheek and he almost bursts.

when you’re out of sight, he releases that breath he was holding. he sits there stunned, flushed down to the collar, journal clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @43hughes @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife

[cherrysinner]

PAIRING: adult nerd!rafe x adult pervert!reader

SYNOPSIS: your stay at tannyhill doesn't start off well, yet somehow it ends up with you being sarah's bridesmaid.

TAGS: flashbacks. fluff. angst. rafe's pov. wc: 2.5k

SONG: favourite person - peach prc

THE ART OF REDISCOVERY

the worst thing about first loves is that you don't really realize they're just going to be your first love, and nothing more. most people think they're going to end up with their first love, whether it's their sandbox love, high school sweetheart, or even someone who never really reciprocated their feelings. but more often than not, it ends up not lasting. most of the time it isn't even because the love was no longer there. it can be that you just grew apart and feel like different people now, it can be extenuating circumstances, or it can be that you feel like you are thousands of miles apart, whether that's literally or figuratively.

as you laid in the guest bedroom of your first love's childhood home, with him only soundly sleeping a few rooms away, you could still remember how you both thought the same thing about yourselves. you'd thought you were the exception, instead of the rule.

you knew you and rafe were going to take different paths in life, but you'd hoped you'd get to walk them side by side. but life sometimes had a way of throwing curveballs at you.

rafe stared up at the same ceiling he'd spent all his teenage years staring up at, but none of his teenage thoughts had been nearly as grueling as the thoughts currently bouncing around in his mind. the last time he had been in this house was with you when you'd met his family, and now you were both back here again.

yet it was nothing like back then.

"fuck, i'm gonna miss you so bad, you have no idea." you mumbled through tears, sniffling as you hid your face in the side of rafe's neck. rafe let out a teary laugh, stroking your head as he pressed his eyes closed, "trust me, i know."

you pulled back, stroking his cheek, the boy's glasses slightly fogged up from tears. "i love you so much. promise me that we're gonna talk every day, and that if anyone tries to hit on you you're just gonna look them up and down and go 'eugh'."

"i promise." rafe said, and he meant it. he leaned down, capturing your lips with his, the grip on your waist tightening, pulling you into his chest as your lips moved together for the last time for a long time, both of you trying to convey just how much you didn't want it to be happening.

you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, "i promise i'll love you forever." rafe whispered, and hearing those words broke your heart all over again.

"i should go." you pulled away with a sniffle, rafe reluctantly letting go with a sad nod. "call me when you get there." "as long as you'll do the same."

and when you turned and walked to your car, you couldn't bare to look back, knowing that if you did, you might not ever be able to resist turning back and running to him.

so you got into your car, and drove away. and as when rafe's figure started getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, you had to resist turning back and running back to him.

but you could make long distance work. if anyone could make it work, it would be you and rafe, you smiled tearily, clutching the locket around your neck with one of your hands.

you walked into the makeup trailer with cat-eye-shaped sunglasses covering your eyes, giving everyone in the trailer a wan smile as you went to your usual makeup artist, the blue-haired woman smiling brightly at you, "hey gi- oh."

the makeup artist's sentence was interrupted by you taking your sunglasses off, the woman taking a look at your red-rimmed eyes and the eyebags decorating them. "rough night, huh?"

"you could say that." you said with a humorless chuckle as you sat yourself down on the chair, "don't worry, i'll make you look like you actually got some sleep." she said as she started to gather up stuff, looking through the makeup on the desk in front of you.

"so, you wanna talk about it?" clarissa asked as she was applying undereye patches under your eyes. you pursed your lips, swallowing as if swallowing down the words you were about to say would make them not a reality. "break up."

the blue-haired woman's brows raised, "what, you mean with mr. 'we're gonna be together forever'?" "that's the one." you tutted your lips, "what happened? do i need to call up some guys?"

you let out a soft chuckle, "no, it wasn't like that... it was for both our sakes. he's busy with his studies, i'm busy shooting, then i'm gonna be busy promoting, and then shooting something else..." you sighed, "maintaining a relationship where you can't physically touch someone while doing that all just felt too much, you know?"

"i'm sorry," clarissa pursed her lips, "but some things just aren't meant to last forever. but having a relationship that was as good as yours and lasted for as long as it did is rare. and it ending doesn't mean it failed, it just... ran its course." you nodded at her words, "but, you definitely need some cheering up. i'm taking you out tonight." "clar-" "no buts." "wasn't gonna say but." you grinned, "i was gonna ask if i can bring my roommate."

when clarissa turned away, you looked at yourself in the mirror and took in a deep breath, "i'm going to be okay." you whispered to yourself, putting on a calm smile, "i'm going to be fine."

you walked into the kitchen when the sun was already up, still clad in your pajamas and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, taking advantage of finally having two weeks off from waking up at four in the morning, only to find that rafe was already fully dressed, perched up on one of the stools, reading a newspaper with an apple in his hand.

this rafe looked much different from the rafe you remembered. he had built up a bit more muscle, and unlike when he'd push his hair back with gel, he'd let it be, even having a slight stubble. he wore different spectacles, silver-rims changing to a darker color, a more mature shape. his skin—

you were startled by the sudden tsk of his lips, the man not even looking up from his newspaper at you as the words, "are you gonna get something to eat or just stare at me the entire day?" left his lips in a cold tone. you cleared your throat, avoiding looking at rafe as you felt your cheeks warm up.

"so, any exciting plans?" you asked with a cheery tone as you made your way to the coffee machine, "are you gonna see some old friends?" "stop trying to make small talk. we both know it's awkward." rafe rose from his stool, letting it scrape against the marble floor, looking at you for the first time that day, "congrats on the nomination." he said, but there was no joy in his tone of voice.

before you could respond, though, he'd let the core of the apple hit the bottom of the trash can with a metallic clang! and walked out of the kitchen. when you looked to the newspaper on the counter and saw even a sliver of your name, you scoffed, the newspaper joining the apple core in the trash can. you leaned back against the counter, bringing the cup of coffee to your lips.

this rafe didn't only look different than your rafe. this rafe acted different.

the moment you and rielle got back to your apartment from the night club, the girl was already putting music on all over again, already digging through the liquor cabinet.

"do you mind if i use your bedroom to call rafe?" you asked with a pleading grin, "go ahead. but if you two start having phone sex over there, just know that i'll be listening." "good, i'm into that." you laughed, pulling the bedroom door closed.

you plopped down onto her bed, searching for rafe's contact until you finally found it, hearing your roommate pop a bottle open in the other room. after a few rings, rafe answered with a groggy voice, "mmmhello?" he mumbled.

"guess what, guess what, guess what!" "tell me..." "i got it!!" you cheered. "got what?" you laughed at your boyfriend's sleepiness, "the part. the netflix show i've been telling you about? i got it." "mmm, that's good, baby..." "rafe, i'm gonna play the main character! on a netflix show! this is huge for me!" "'m sorry..." rafe cleared his throat, "i was up late 'n i just got to sleep. i am really happy for you, though. so proud of my girl. can't wait to watch it."

"shit, i forgot that it's almost five am there..." you groaned, "come on, celebratory shots!" echoed from the living room. you let out a sigh, "i'm sorry for waking you up." "it's okay. i always love hearing your voice." you chuckle softly, "go have fun with rielle. not too much fun though, no slumber party kissing." "we were thirteen!" you laughed softly, "i love you and i miss you." "i love you and i miss you too."

you hung up the phone and went into the living room, "you're getting your own showwww!" rielle whooped, holding up a bottle of tequila. you rushed to her, "to me getting my own show." you grinned, the two of you clinking your shot glasses together before tapping them on the table and throwing them back.

you were lounging by the pool in one of your bikinis, sunglasses covering your eyes, your speakers playing music at a low volume next to you, your mind feeling empty, your body feeling calm, for the first time in as long as you could remember.

until you heard the back door glass door slide open with a frustrated sarah rushing out, "no, jb, you don't understand! her not being able to make it ruins this whole thing!" she cried. you slid your sunglasses down your nose as you looked over to them with furrowed brows, "come on, it's just one bridesmaid! you've still got kie!" "no, but i have her dress, i have her bouquet, neither of those will be refunded, and even worse, we're gonna have to pick a whole new entrance song! the one i picked only works if my maid of honor and two bridesmaids walk before me! not just the maid of honor and one bridesmaid! it doesn't work! "

"sarah, i'm sorry, but annie couldn't really predict this." john b sighed, "we'll just find a new song, baby. i'm sorry." the man pulled his fiancée close, pressing a kiss on top of her head.

you wrapped a bathrobe around you before you got up off the sun lounger, heading towards the couple, "is... everything alright?" you asked, your brows furrowed as you looked between them. sarah sniffled, pulling slightly away from john b's grasp, sniffling, "yeah, sarah's just bummed because one of her bridesmaids called and said she couldn't make it." "and now we're gonna have to figure out a whole new entrance song, and probably use the bridesmaid's dress as kindling." sarah wiped at her eye with a sad chuckle.

you pursed your lips in thought before speaking, "i don't wanna cross any boundaries, and you can say no, but... if you need a bridesmaid, i could be one...?"

sarah's eyes seemed to brighten at your suggestion, "really? you'd do that for me?" "i mean, i've never been a bridesmaid, so i wouldn't know what to do, but if you-"

before you could finish your sentence, sarah had pulled you into a bone-crushing hug."thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" she exclaimed as she pulled away, "thank you, really. you're a lifesaver." "of course." "shit," sarah looked down at her apple watch, "you need to get to a fitting to make sure the bridesmaids dress will be ready before the wedding!"

"it's two weeks away, though." "yes, but they're gonna wanna make a bunch of alterations." sarah sighed, "if you go get changed now, i'm sure they can start off tonight." "alright." you chuckled softly, clearing your throat, "i'm gonna head inside."

when the door closed behind you, sarah turned to her fiancé, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes, "you did well. i'm starting to think you're enjoying this." john b. cleared his throat, "i'm just... following your lead." "but the name we agreed on was anna. not annie."

"kook diva." john b mumbled before pulling his fiancée into a kiss.

as you rushed down the stairs, now fully dressed, you found no one around you except for rafe, "where are-" "they went wedding cake tasting." rafe cut you off, getting on his feet. "i'm your ride, unfortunately. again."

you twiddled your thumbs in your lap the entire ride to the tailor, your foot tapping at the floor of the car the entire ride, until rafe piped up, "can you stop?"

you turned to him with your eyes narrowed, tilting your head to the side. you'd had enough of his bitchy attitude.

"why? it's not your car anyway. if you're bothered by the noise then turn on the radio." you scowled, turning to look out of the window, missing the small upwards twitch of rafe's lips.

once he pulled up in front of the tailor, rafe cleared his throat, "alright, hurry up in there. i don't wanna wait in a hot car all day." you scoffed, "like i'm suffering alone." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "you're coming in there with me, or i'm not going at all."

"are you serious?" rafe let out a sigh, only to receive a simple lift of your eyebrows in response that made your ex reluctantly leaving the car and walking into the shop with you.

rafe was sitting on a sofa outside the fitting room waiting for you, when you finally pushed the curtains aside with a wide smile, giving him a little twirl. "how do i look?"

he looked at you up and down, clearing his throat. "you look... fine."

watching you drive away from him felt like rafe was watching his entire life drive away right in front of him. so he closed his eyes, but kept waving at you, kept up the feigned smile on his lips. but every part of him regretted not coming with you.

when rafe saw you walk out of the fitting room in the pink dress, smiling widely at him in a way that made his heart pang, before spinning around, looking to you with your head tilted to the side, as if the seductive look on your face was pulling the words he wanted to say right out of his throat; gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, ethereal... only for the words he forced himself to let out to be heard, "you look... fine."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I would love to see nerd face more how it transition there sex life and dating

Like how he would react to y/n ridding him for the first time and wants to grab her boobs so he just fist the covers and she’s like you can grab them 🫣 and he reacts just like how she gave him a blow job

nerd!rafe and reader transitioning into their sex life | MDNI

A/N: OK OK… I adore this

NERD!RAFE MASTERLIST

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ SO. We all know how shy he is. At first, he’s scared to even ask for sex. Because he’s scared of making you uncomfortable or think he only is lustful over you when he gen is in love with you.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ and because of this, you’d be the one having to iniate everything. And even then, he was always asking before he does anything… like the man was scared to touch you

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eventually, after many many times, he starts getting to know more about what you like and what you don’t like. He learns your body so quick, it’s kinda crazy.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ okay, okay, so when you first ride him, he’s nervous as hell. He’s never had a girl wanna ride him, like ever. And he struggles not to bust a nut as soon as he sees you on top of him and you start straddling him.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ and he is GRIPPING those sheets at first. You’re sinking down on his cock, and he is just pulling and tugging at them, unsure of what to do with his hands. And he couldn’t just, grab your hips or something, because in his mind, he was overstepping.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ you find it kinda cute 😭 because it IS. That man just doesn’t wanna make you uncomfy and he’s really sweet abt it. But, you come up with an idea in your head that you think he’s gonna adore.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ you stop moving and grinding your hips on him for a moment, and you grab his hands, pulling them off the sheets. “Here.” You tell him with a sweet smile as you guided his hands towards your breasts, letting them rest there for a moment.

he looked at you in pure awe. you know he’s a boob guy, and so, why not?

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ so, you start to ride him again, and his hands are frozen still your boobs now, when you put your hands over his, and nod softly, already reading his mind.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ he gives you a smile, looking like a kid in a freaking candy store when he starts to grope you, his hands gripping your chest and watching them bounce up and down in his hands as you ride him.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ he busts in that moment btw.. that’s literally all he needed. And you can tell by the way his cheeks grew rosy and his soft lips parted.

[angelluvsrafe]

this might be weird so i’m on anon but i saw your post about little things nerd!rafe does, and i saw the one that says he loves sleeping naked with reader because of the skin to skin, but could you write something about likeeeeee if reader got her period overnight while they were sleeping naked? what would he do? how would he tell her?

nothings considered weird on this blog 💕

rafe wakes up before you, sitting up gently as to not disturb you. he puts on his glasses and grabs a book.

you move closer to him, pulling the covers with you— revealing a red stain on the mattress. he sees it out of the corner of his eyes and looks at it properly.

he sighs as he realises it’s blood, looking down at you as he decides how he will go about it. he doesn’t want to embarrass you. but he also kinda need to tell you now so it doesn’t get worse.

he rubs your back softly and kisses your forehead.

“angel… wake up…” he whispers gently and presses a few kisses over your sleep flushed face.

your eyes flutter open, squinting at the bright light coming through the window.

he smiles softly and pushes some hair out of your face.

“morning baby…” he smiles softly, how the hell does he let you know without making you uncomfortable?

“morning…” you mumble back.

“uh… baby i think you started your period…” he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb.

your eyes open fully and you look up at him, his warm breath fanning over your face.

“what?” you sit up and look down at your crotch— it’s covered in blood. you groan and check the mattress, only to see more blood.

“i can run you a bath…? or um- like a shower or something…” he suggests softly, seeing your expression visibly relax at his tone.

you nod softly and he’s immediately scooping you up in his arms, one under your knees and one under your back.

“would you rather a bath or a shower?” he asks with a soft smile as he carries you to the bathroom.

“um… shower…” you murmur, still sleepy.

he nods and sets you down, in the bathroom. he quickly turns on the shower and grabs a hair clip.

he gathers your hair and clips it up, patting your head lightly when he finishes.

“get in, angel… i’ll go change the bedding” he kisses your temple as you step under the shower, the warm water immediately washing away some of the blood.

he walks back into the bedroom, shutting the door slightly so you have some more privacy.

ten minutes later he comes back to see you sat down in the shower.

“hey… you okay?” he crouches down next to you and tilts his head so he can see your face better.

“cramps…” you mumble and he sighs sympathetically.

“i’m sorry, baby…” he takes your hands and pulls you up.

he grabs a towel and holds it out for you to step into— he wraps it around you and then grabs a tampon from the cupboard.

“you okay with me doing this or would you rather?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your expression for any hesitation.

you nod.

“you can do it…”

he nods and lift your leg, he puts it in quickly before throwing the applicator out. he kisses your stomach and then looks up at you.

“that okay? no coochie cramps?” he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“yeah… no coochie cramps…” you reassure him and he smiles.

“good, come on… i got you a heating pad, some pain killers and then i also got you some raspberry leaf tea, i know you don’t really like it but it helps… right?” he lists off, handing you some comfy clothes— his preparation making your heart flutter.

you nod and take the pills and change before getting into the fresh bed. the sheets are now a darker colour than the ones you bled on.

you thank god every day that rafe is so smart and actually uses his brain— unlike most boys his age.

“okay i’ll go make you something to eat because empty stomach and pills is a no no” he kisses your temple and heads downstairs.

you spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed, wrapped in his arms.

-

- request fic

[moondustbaby]

Nerd Rafe Headcanons

nerd!Rafe x sorority girl!Reader

☾ You get paired up randomly in Bio 201 and he immediately thinks he’s doomed. Sorority girl? Lip gloss? Definitely going to ghost him. But then you pull out your laptop and go, “I already outlined the project—do you wanna split it 50/50 or brainstorm first?” and he literally blinks like a confused little owl.

☾ He gets so flustered when you compliment him. Like you’ll say, “God, you’re so smart,” and he’ll literally pause mid-sentence and adjust his glasses or pretend to reread something because he’s red from the neck up.

☾ The project requires you to meet often—study rooms, the library, sometimes coffee shops—and you start realizing how easy he is to talk to when it’s not about science. Like, he lights up when he talks about his goals. It’s sweet. He cares.

☾ You start teasing him lightly, just to get a reaction. “Genius boy,” “Captain Chemistry,” “Mr. Periodic Table.” Every time, his ears go bright red but he tries to act unfazed.

☾ One day you show up in leggings and an oversized crewneck, hair in a claw clip, iced coffee in hand, and he’s momentarily stunned. Like, he tries to talk and nothing comes out. You’re like, “You good?” And he just nods… way too fast.

☾ His handwriting is criminally perfect. You steal his notes sometimes just to reread the way he explains things, and once you found a scribble in the margin that said: “she smells so good today. focus.”

a/n: yaaay another little peek into nerd!rafe and sorority girl!reader I’m already so obsessed with them it’s not even funny. I can’t wait to keep building their dynamic and writing more for this au!! stay tuned for flustered lab sessions, soft tension, and all the academic crush chaos that comes with it

♥️ lani

Masterlist