urcoolgfsdiary

[urcoolgfsdiary]

you ever have those days where you just feel like you were really funny ???? like damn i made people LAUGH laugh and i lowkey didn’t even know i had some of those jokes stored away until now

that was me today

and let me just say: it was an experience to be reckoned with

[urcoolgfsdiary]

when sza said “i been looking good, i been feeling nice, working on my aura” i felt

because like that’s so real. me too girl

so much so i can’t write a single LINE of ANY of my drafts ! so . . . that’s just phenomenal

[urcoolgfsdiary]

more food bc yk your girl LOVES to eat

[urcoolgfsdiary]

sometimes your brain really just offers you one banger of a sentence and then that's it for the entire rest of the day. creativity expired, the ability to think has clocked out for the day, context for as to how we even get to this sentence? sorry we're all out. this one sentence is all you get.

[urcoolgfsdiary]

why did no one tell me going to the gym was so fun???? i coulda been doing this YEARS AGO

[urcoolgfsdiary]

i love that tiktok trend that’s like “your beauty marks are where past lovers kissed you” because i have one right by my left eye and one just to the right of my mouth

so the bar is set high is what i’m hearing?? they were the most wholesome person ever???? PLEASE LET IT BE IN THIS LIFE TOO

[urcoolgfsdiary]

we listen and we don’t judge

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Drew was not a fan of social media.

Unlike you.

Chronically online was a term that was gaining fame to describe someone who spent quite some time on the internet, and who knew all the trends going on.

You weren’t exactly proud to be a part of that community.

But it kept you entertained.

And that’s how you ended up setting your phone up, ready to record Drew and you filming a new trend on TikTok.

How did you convince him to do it? You don’t even remember.

And after what felt like an eternity of explaining the dynamic to Drew, you both were finally ready to begin.

Both of you sitting next to each other on your couch, you looked at him with a mischievous smirk while he stared at you suspiciously.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both said at the same time, Drew smirking at you.

“I’ll start” you said, looking from your phone screen to your boyfriend. “Sometimes, when I don’t really wanna cook, I get all dramatic and lie about us not having all the ingredients for the dish I was supposed to make, so you can offer to make something instead with what we do have” you say, giving him an embarrassed smile.

He chuckled at your words.

“I knew that love” he lets out a laugh. “You’re not good at lying to me”.

Your mouth opens up in shock.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

Drew pauses for a moment, smiling at you.

"When you're showering, i close the door of our room so the sound of your music gets as muffled as possible" he admits.

You giggle as you nod at his words, you did like to shower with loud music.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him through the screen.

“I thought you hated me when we first met, so I would intentionally try to stay out of your way our first couple of working days together”.

Drew gives you a puzzled expression trying his best not to judge.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“I often fake coming home super tired and stressed so that you take pity on me and cuddle me while playing with my hair” he says giving you a cute smile.

You giggle at his words.

“That’s cute” you admit leaning to peck his lips.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You take a couple of seconds before speaking, trying to be dramatic.

“I have a lot of edits of you saved on my favorites folder on TikTok” you look at him.

Drew covers his eyes while letting out a chuckle.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He looks at you mischievously.

“I get jealous of the guys in your books” he admits seriously.

You let out a laugh as you throw your head back.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You giggle softly before confessing the next one.

“Whenever I feel sick in the middle of the night, I wiggle a lot in bed or move your body so you’ll accidentally wake up and ask me what’s wrong”.

He opens his mouth surprised at your words.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

Drew thinks a little before speaking.

“Ever since we met I’ve always been skeptical of your at home remedies for illnesses, even though they work every time” he admits.

You slowly nod while giving him a defeated look, knowing that already.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You give him a playful look before speaking.

“When we’re cuddling, sometimes I have the urge to stand up abruptly because I get too hot and I feel like I can’t breathe because you’re too big” you say, barely getting out the words without laughing.

Drew looks at you with big eyes, moving his brows up and down at the double meaning of your last words.

You roll your eyes at him.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“When I’m showering, sometimes I’ll use your shampoo rather than mine” he pauses as he looks at your baffled face. “It leaves my hair softer! And smells like you”.

Of course, there were a few confessions you had to cut from the video because your PR managers would hunt you down if they made it out into the internet.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both say smiling at each other.

You smirk playfully at him before speaking.

“I cannot stand one of your friends and past coworkers” you admit, making a serious face.

Drew immediately throws his head back and lets out a chuckle, knowing exactly who you’re referring to.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I don’t like watching F1 since you told me about that driver that slid into your dm’s” he lets out cockily.

You burst out laughing looking at him while he joins you.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You make a thinking face looking at him.

“I wish you sent me more shirtless photos” you say giving him puppy eyes. “Or like, you took more of those with my phone, so I could look at them”.

He snorted out a laugh.

“That can be fixed baby” he says as he looks at you mischievously.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He gives you a smile.

“When I travel for work and you’re not coming with me, I take a pair of your panties and stuff them in my suitcase” he says laughing.

You scrunch up your nose at him.

“Drewwwwww” you say covering your face, now knowing where those missing undies went.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You avoid his eyes for the next one.

“Sometimes when I’m cold, I throw on one of your dirty hoodies that you used while working out, cause they’re sweaty and smell like you” you say, trying not to burst out laughing.

He gives you a grossed out look.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him waiting for him to speak.

“You know those sleeping shorts Brooke sent you cause she accidentally bought too many?” He says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying sent and accidentally.

You nod at his words.

“I actually bought them for you because I love how your ass looks in them”.

Your mouth opens at his confession while you hit him playfully in the chest.

Drew laughs at your reaction.

“Oh my god baby, this is definitely not making it to the video” you say as you stand up from your position while laughing at him, walking to your phone to stop recording, while he stands back watching your movements with a smile.

Noticing that in fact, you were wearing a pair of those shorts.

“We don’t judge remember?” he said cheekily.

*

inspired by @valstranquility lando blurb<3

I love this trend on TikTok and I just couldn’t help myself

they’re just too cute I can’t

this was short n sweet hope you like it, if you have any other concepts you’d like to read let me know!

[urcoolgfsdiary]

ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

[urcoolgfsdiary]

boyfriend!rafe wants more kisses ୨ৎ ♡₊ ⊹

you launch off the couch like your life depends on it, heart pounding as you run toward the door.

you swing it open. and there he is.

his shirt’s rumpled like he got dressed in a rush, hair an absolute mess, cheeks flushed from the cold. he’s standing on your porch with a little paper bag in his hand. like driving all the way here for a kiss is normal behavior now.

you blink hard. “are you… wait, are you actually standing on my porch right now?”

he grins “you said come kiss you. so i did.”

“you’re insane,” you breathe, trying not to smile, failing miserably.

he shrugs. “only insane for you. now come on, don’t leave me out here.” you move aside, still dazed, and he steps in without hesitation, trailing behind you to the kitchen.

you barely make it to the counter before he spins you gently by the hips, turning you to face him like he can’t wait another second.

he’s close enough to touch now, close enough to feel the warmth coming off him.

he tilts his head and murmurs, “can i have that kiss now?”

you nod, already breathless. “yeah.”

before you can say anything else, his hands slide to your waist and he lifts you onto the edge of the counter in one smooth, easy motion. your hands grip his shoulders, eyes wide, breath catching as your legs instinctively brush his sides. you let out a soft gasp, heart fluttering wild.

he smiles up at you. “i missed you,” he says, voice low.

you don’t even get the chance to reply. he kisses you before you can, slow and warm and deep, like he’s been holding it in all night. like he showed up just to feel this again.

your fingers twist in his hair. his grip on you tightens just a little. for a second, the whole world fades out.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. his eyes flick down, and he smiles.

“you look good in my hoodie,” he murmurs, voice like velvet. “like, really good.”

you laugh, breath catching, cheeks warm. he grins.

“you keep stealing it like that and i’m gonna stop bringing it over.”

“liar,” you say.

“you’d just steal more.”

you laugh, cheeks warm. “yeah, i would.” he leans in a little more, lips brushing yours.

“then you better kiss me every time you wear it.”

“okay i will.” you kiss him again, soft and a little breathless. he kisses you back like he’s never getting tired of this.

he sets you down gently, keeping his hands on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll float away. you glance at the bag still dangling from his fingers.

“what’s that?”

he lifts it like he forgot it was even there. “i brought you your favorite cookies,” he says. “and also, kind of an excuse to show up.”

you smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “you didn’t need an excuse.” he leans in again, whispering, “good. because i plan on doing this a lot.”

[urcoolgfsdiary]

A slutty polo and biceps? We are so back

[urcoolgfsdiary]

toxic!rafe saying do you want to see my biceps? a/n: i saw this on instagram and was like wait this would be so silly to write about and so here it is ◡̈ hope you like it

you reposted it without thinking. it was just some dumb post that said “it’s always "goodnight" and never do you want to see my biceps. it was sorta funny and made you giggle.

a few mins later you hear a notification sound from your phone.

| rafe: hey | rafe: you could've asked

you stare at your phone.

| you: what?? | rafe: the biceps | rafe: i’ve got ‘em on standby

you bury your face in your pillow, already regretting everything. and he knows.

later, when you say “goodnight loser” he hits you back with:

| rafe: goodnight | rafe: are you sure you don’t want the biceps? | you: why would i want to see yours when i’ve already got options? | rafe: bet your “options” don’t have veins like this

rafe sent a photo

you zoom in and stare at the veins for an inappropriate amount of time.

| rafe: block them and come see me ❤ | you: i'm tired but you should come see me and bring strawberry milk 💗 | rafe: did you block them?

you roll your eyes at his message. he was cute, sure, but he wasn’t that important. definitely not important enough to be telling you who to block.

| you: i am going to sleep 😭 this is too much effort i'm about to pass out | rafe: whatever 🙄 goodnight baby | rafe: dream about me

[urcoolgfsdiary]

Hi girl love your blog,

So... Bf!rafe asking reader to choke him

— bf!rafe asking you to choke him

warnings — p in v, choking, lewd language

the air in the bedroom is thick, almost syrupy, with the scent of your mingled sweat and the lingering musk of hours spent tangled together. you're straddling rafe, the rhythm you set slow and deliberate, your hips rocking against his, drawing out the pleasure, watching the way his jaw clenches with each deep slide.

his hands aren't just gripping your hips anymore; they're kneading, possessive, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as if trying to leave his mark. his eyes, usually sharp and assessing, are dark pools in the dim lamplight, pupils blown wide, fixed on your face with an intensity that makes your own breath catch. he's close; you feel the subtle tremor starting in his thighs, the way his breathing is becoming more ragged, shallower.

suddenly, his hands leave your hips, strong fingers finding yours, lacing through them with an urgent, almost desperate grip. he guides your joined hands upwards, not to rest on his chest or shoulders, but higher, directly towards his own throat. a jolt, part surprise, part knowing anticipation, shoots through you.

he looks up at you, raw need etched into every feature. the usual arrogance is gone, replaced by a stark vulnerability. "please, baby," he rasps, the words a raw plea, his voice strained, cracking slightly. "put your hands around my neck. do it." there's a frantic edge to his command, a desperation that tells you he wants it badly.

slowly, deliberately, you reposition your hands, unlacing your fingers to carefully place your thumbs on either side of his strong throat, just below the sharp line of his jaw. the skin there is hot beneath your touch, his pulse hammering wildly against your fingertips.

"harder," he groans, the sound ripped from deep in his chest. his hips buck beneath you, a desperate, almost frantic upward thrust, urging you on, seeking not just pleasure but this specific, intense edge.

you apply more pressure, carefully calibrated, not enough to cause pain, but enough to constrict, to remind him of your control in this precise moment. enough to make him feel the exhilarating dance on the edge of surrender. his face flushes a deeper red, a look of intense, almost agonising pleasure twisting his features. he lets out a choked, strangled gasp, his body tensing further, every muscle coiling tight.

"yeah," he chokes out, words fragmented, eyes still squeezed shut as if the sensation is too much to bear with them open. "like that… fuck… please…"

you continue to ride him, your movements becoming more powerful, matching the increasing pressure you exert on his throat. the dual sensations are clearly pushing him into overload. his hands, which had been fisted in the sheets, now shoot up to grip your wrists. not to push you away, not to fight for release, but to hold you there, to ground himself, to surrender more completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

a strangled, guttural roar tears from his throat, a sound completely unrestrained, primal. his body arches violently off the bed, hips slamming upwards into you with convulsive force as he comes undone, completely and utterly. he convulses beneath you, the strong muscles in his neck cording and straining beneath your thumbs, the pulse beneath your fingertips a frantic, hammering drum.

just as the first powerfully wave crests, shattering his control, you instinctively, gently, release the pressure on his throat. he gasps in huge, shuddering lungfuls of air, the sound raw and desperate. you collapse forward onto his chest, feeling the frantic, wild thrum of his heart hammering against your own. he wraps his arms around you immediately, crushing you against him in a tight, almost painful embrace, holding on as if you're the only solid thing in a collapsing world. his breathing is still harsh, uneven, each exhale a ragged shudder against your hair.

"fuck…" he pants against your neck, his voice hoarse, raw with the aftermath. "that was perfect, baby." he nuzzles weakly against your skin, a possessive, utterly spent gesture.

taglist ; @mojitrvo @mayanqueenxx @kisses4rafey @zoenighshade555 @feverg1rl @onxlyemery @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @yncoded @millie--billie @laniirackssss @slut4you @g3t2kn0w @kravitzwhore @dollyfiles @kild4re @zzhenyac @sparklyananas @dsfault @rafesprttyprincess @lynst91 @nonbeliever1 @drewsephrry @softstarr @k4yr14 @babydollll-bunny @leleasalwaysblog @cokewithcameron @mialuvsrafe @urcoolgf @love-ella333 @amelialovesrafe (join here) | divider creds ; @/anitalenia @/fairytopea

© written by ditzyrafe — do not steal or claim as ur own, stealing will result in me blocking u, any resemblance to any other story is simply coincidental!

[urcoolgfsdiary]

reading rc fanfiction recently has made me concerningly domestic like why do i crave the stay-at-home-mom vibe with like a fucking beach / vacation home when i’m literally going to college right now to become a doctor and have never wanted to rely on a man in my LIFE

[urcoolgfsdiary]

He wants you to move in with him

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x gf!reader

It was nearly midnight when you finally peeled yourself off Rafe’s ridiculously soft couch, stretching your arms as you reached for your overnight bag. You’d been at his house every night for the past week, and most of your toiletries were already scattered across his bathroom sink. One of your hoodies had migrated into his closet. A pair of fuzzy socks hung off the side of his laundry basket. But still—you technically didn’t live there.

And Rafe hated that.

He was sprawled across the bed in just his boxers, hair messy from your earlier movie marathon, arms folded behind his head, watching you like a man silently begging for his life. His bottom lip was stuck out slightly in a pout, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. You could already feel it coming.

“You leavin’?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you said softly, zipping your bag. “I’ve got class in the morning. I should sleep at mine tonight. I need actual clothes.”

“You have clothes here. Like, an entire drawer. Two, actually.” His voice was raspy, low, that kind of boyish edge creeping in when he was trying not to sound clingy—but failing.

You smiled as you turned to him. “That’s still not the same thing as living here.”

Rafe shot up like he’d been electrocuted.

“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying!”

You blinked.

He was on his feet now, already at your side, hands landing gently but firmly on your waist like he thought you might run. His thumbs brushed under the hem of your shirt, and he looked down at you with that wide-eyed, desperate stare he usually saved for when he thought he was about to lose you over something dumb.

“Baby. I’m serious. Just—just move in.” His voice was soft, pleading. “You’re always here anyway. You sleep better in my bed. You’re not fooling anybody with this ‘I should go home’ act.”

You raised a brow. “So what, this is about you not wanting to be alone?”

His face crumpled into the most pathetic expression you’d ever seen. “Yes. Okay? Fucking yes.”

You laughed under your breath, but he wasn’t joking.

“Rafe…”

“I miss you the second you leave,” he blurted. “It’s fucking stupid. I know. You walk out that door and I’m just—miserable. I start checking your location like a psycho, I can’t sleep, I stare at your stupid pink toothbrush on my counter like a heartbroken little bitch.”

You bit your lip, trying not to grin. “You are so dramatic.”

“No, I’m in love,” he argued, like he’d just won a court case. “There’s a difference.”

You softened, slowly reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. He leaned into your hand like a dog starved for touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you here when I wake up,” he mumbled. “I want to come home to you. Every day. I want your shampoo in my shower and your heels by the door and your face on my fucking pillow every night. I don’t care if it’s domestic or whatever. I want it. I want you. All the time.”

You let your fingers graze his jaw, thumb brushing over the curve of his cheek. “You know this is kind of insane, right?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Totally insane. But I’ve been in love with you since like, week three, so that ship’s sailed.”

You leaned against him, your forehead resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel his heartbeat—it was racing.

“I don’t want you to go home tonight,” he whispered. “Not just tonight. Any night. I hate when you're not here. I keep reaching for you and the bed is empty and it makes me want to throw things.”

You chuckled softly. “You’ve definitely thrown something.”

“A lamp,” he admitted without hesitation. “But that’s not the point.”

You sighed, chest rising and falling slowly against his.

“Rafe…”

“What if I get you a dog?” he said suddenly. “Like, a really cute one. Something small that you can carry around and dress up in dumb outfits. I’ll let you name it. We’ll take it on walks together. Just… live with me. Please.”

You looked up at him, his blue eyes glassy and pleading like a puppy’s.

“You think a dog’s gonna seal the deal?”

“Do you want a cat instead?” he offered, dead serious. “A housecat? Two cats? I’ll build them a cat tree. I’ll Google it right now.”

You laughed, and he grinned, pulling you tighter.

“I’ll do anything,” he said, pressing his face into your neck. “I just want you here. Every day. Always.”

You sighed dramatically. “God, you’re so needy.”

He nodded. “Yep. I am. I want my girlfriend in my house. I want her in my shower, on my couch, wearing my shirts, yelling at me when I forget to take the trash out. I want to eat breakfast with you. I want to fight with you over what to watch on Netflix and fall asleep with you halfway through. Please, baby. I’m begging.”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the face.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll move in.”

Rafe blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

You nodded.

For a second, he looked like he didn’t believe it. Then his face split into the biggest grin you’d ever seen. His arms wrapped around you so tight he lifted you off the floor, spinning you in a small circle.

“Holy shit. You’re gonna live with me,” he breathed.

“You better not throw another lamp,” you teased.

He kissed your cheek, then your forehead, then your lips. “Only if you leave again.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re obsessed.”

He smirked. “Damn right I am.”

Credits:@rafeslittlepup

[urcoolgfsdiary]

If you break someone and they still wish you the best, you’ve lost the greatest thing for you

[urcoolgfsdiary]

this was the final straw. just off the edge of the vanity, a soft clink as your vs lip gloss tube rolled under your stool. you could see it peeking out, glittery cap sparkling against the tile, but when you bent down to get it, your hair caught on your lashes, and your sleeve got twisted, making you finally crack.

“fuck,” you sniffled, sitting up way too fast. “fuck this stupid fucking day.”

from the bed, rafe raised an eyebrow, clicking the mute button on the remote in his hand. he watched as you clenched your fists in your lap, chest rising fast.

“what happened now?” he asked, not unkind. but also not exactly kind either.

you glared at the lip gloss. “everything is ruined.”

rafe sat up a little. “babe..it’s lip gloss.”

“i know it’s lip gloss, rafe,” you snapped. “but it’s not about the lip gloss.”

he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “okay..so what’s it about?”

you blinked; your vision blurred with tears. “i don’t know. my boobs hurt. i’m bloated. i cried at a fucking dog food commercial this morning. you used the last of the milk and didn’t say anything. and now my lip gloss is under the stool, and i hate everything.”

rafe blinked at you. then stood up and crossed the room, crouched, and retrieved the gloss without a word. handed it to you like he was defusing a bomb.

you took it in silence, stared at it, and then you sniffled again.

“you’re mad at me,” you mumbled.

“i’m not mad at you,” he said flatly.

“you are..you think i’m annoying and crazy.”

“i do not think you’re crazy.” he paused. “i think your hormones are currently committing war crimes inside your body.”

you looked at him, your lower lip trembling. “i can’t tell if that was mean or sweet.”

“maybe both.”

you let out a shaky laugh, then a sob. your hands covered your face. “i just want to feel soft and hot and normal and i feel like a hot air balloon full of rage.”

he sat next to you on the vanity stool, which was really not made for his size, but he made it work. and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“you are soft,” he said. “and you’re always hot. and honestly? a little rage balloon version of you is still my favorite thing on earth.”

you wiped your nose on your sleeve. “i hate that you’re good at this.”

“i’ve had practice,” he said. “remember last month? you cried because the sushi guy forgot your extra soy sauce.”

“because it’s not the same without the extra soy sauce.”

“i know, baby.” he nodded solemnly. “i know.”

you leaned into him, his chest warm, the loud steady thump of his heart grounding you. “i want chocolate,” you mumbled. “and maybe to cry more.”

“both can be arranged.”

“and i want you to scratch my back, but not too hard. and rub my tummy, but don’t comment on it. and tell me i’m pretty but don’t make it about how i look, just about like…my energy.”

rafe stood. “done.”

“what?”

“lie down, woman. you’re getting the full treatment.”

you blinked, and crawled into bed. he followed, bringing a heating pad, a bottle of water, and a handful hershey’s kisses he dug out of his lunch bag sitting in the corner. “you are a treasure,” you whispered.

“i know.”

he got behind you, one hand sliding up your back, nails scratching lightly. the other rested on your stomach. “your energy’s soft,” he murmured. “even when you’re being a little nightmare. still feels like home.”

you choked on a sob. “shit, you’re good at this.”

“i know,” he said again, kissing your hair. “now eat your chocolate, cry into my chest, and remember: when luteal phase rages, rafe will always remains.” you laughed through your tears, melting against him. it was going to be a sweeter night than expected.

❤︎‬ tags below

taglist𑄽𑄺: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafedaddy01 @rafesangelita @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @@ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @wintercrows @st8rkey

[urcoolgfsdiary]

video games r.c.

You never minded how quiet the house got when he wasn’t talking.

Rafe sprawled on the couch — eyes on the screen, controller in hand, lip caught between his teeth in concentration. Some late-night shoot-em-up game lit up his face in flickers of blue and red. You sat on the floor, leaning against his legs, tracing invisible patterns on his shin like it might keep him grounded.

It wasn’t much, but it was everything to you.

He didn’t ask you to stay over. He didn’t have to. You kept showing up — in oversized hoodies and with groceries you never asked him to pay for. You learned his moods like a second language. Knew when to laugh at his jokes. Knew when not to push. Knew that when he got too quiet, it wasn’t about you — not really — but you still took it personally.

“I brought you the peach Gatorade,” you said softly, nudging it toward him.

He didn’t look down. Just murmured, “Thanks, babe” like it was second nature. And that was enough to make your chest ache.

Because you would’ve done anything. Anything just to be near him. To be the reason he felt even a little bit okay in a world that seemed to keep burning bridges beneath his feet.

He wasn’t soft. Not with most people. But you caught glimpses — in the way his hand found yours under the covers when he was half-asleep. In how he played with your hair absently when he thought you were dozing. You got the offhand “you’re good to me” like it was holy.

It was pathetic, maybe. Letting your whole world shrink to the size of a boy with bloodshot eyes and daddy issues. But you loved him the way people love thunderstorms — knowing they’re dangerous, but still stepping out into the rain with bare feet.

He looked down at you then — really looked — and his jaw flexed like he wanted to say something that might matter. But he didn’t. He never did.

Instead, he handed you a controller. “Play with me.”

And that was enough. For now.

Because it was always for him. Everything. The waiting, the worrying, the quiet devotion. You had whole pieces of yourself tied up in his chaos, and it didn’t scare you the way it should’ve.

You just wanted to be the reason he felt like something in his world made sense.

Even if he never said it out loud.

Because loving Rafe Cameron is a little like praying.

It’s lonely.

It’s desperate.

And sometimes, it almost feels holy.

He doesn’t say I love you. Not really. He says you’re good to me, and you always got my back, and you know you don’t have to stay, right?

You laugh when he says that, the way you always do. Like leaving was ever on the table.

Because the truth is—you like being the background to his chaos. You like that he calls you when he’s spun out at 3 a.m., voice raw and desperate, like you’re his anchor. You like making grilled cheese for him when he’s too high to function. You like putting on mascara just to sit next to him while he plays another hour of some stupid game.

You tell yourself it’s love.

That this is enough.

You tell yourself you’re his peace. His home. That one day he’ll look at you and see you, not just the girl who knows how he likes his eggs and doesn’t ask too many questions about the blood on his shirt.

But for now, this is it. Quiet moments. Half-smiles. His hand on your thigh when he’s bored. The way he lets you fall asleep on him even when he doesn’t really touch you back.

It’s not love the way you dreamed of it when you were young, but it’s something.

And when the world feels too loud and the night feels too long, you tell yourself it’s everything.

Because you’re the kind of girl who’d die for him without having anything back.