erwinsvow
all her paths are peace
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘.
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yeahhhh it looks very very simliar to urs
Guys idk what to do lol im terrible at this also wtf damn at least credit me I credit everyone for everything
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you should talk to the author to ask if they can take it down bc it looks like they're claiming it as theirs.....and if tehy don't take it down.
REPORT REPORT REPORT. we can also report if you want us to <3
I don’t know am I being crazy is it that similar?? what if they didn’t actually copy and I’m just being crazy tho
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yoursweetestbunny22 copied your rafe cameron fic when reader uses the bathroom in the middle of the night
you guys stoppp omg wtf do i do
ty for telling me though :(
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this fully made me melt
boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.
he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.
“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.
the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.
“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”
he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.
“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.
rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.
full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”
he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.
he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.
he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.
hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.
“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.
he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.
“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.
“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.
he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”
he certainly was.
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I swr to god you’re the cutest person I’ve ever met not in a demeaning way either cus i wish I was like you, you’re just like chill idk but ya <333
omg why is this so nice. you really made me blush. youre so sweet thank you ♡ i wish i was like you!!!!!!!
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do you have any music recs
SO MANY!!! music is my second biggest interest (after writing lol) and i love to sing. im not sure what genres you like but i've been listening to so much tv girl, beach house, backseat lovers, summer salt, cigarettes after sex, dcfc, cults, cranberries & jack johnson (dont make fun theres a whole story) recently. its my summery vibey playlist
but also my other playlist on repeat is full of brent faiyaz, bryson, playboi, gambino, don toliver, some kendrick (mostly bf recs), and an insane amount of future (truly rafes girlfriend thru and thru)
and my OTHER playlist which is my comfort playlist is all beach boys, beatles, fleetwood mac, elton john, queen, neil young, csn&y, the wings, and lots of lana
i have so many song recs im just gonna include faves from each playlist below!!!
playlist 1: where'd all the time go and my old ways (dr. dog), fade into you (mazzy star), take care & silver soul (beach house), banana panckes and better together (jack johnson), maple syrup (backseat lovers), sunsetz, sweet, starry eyes, apocalypse, k. (cigarettes after sex), stay young go dancing, someday you will be loved, your heart is an empty room, cath (dcfc), candy wrappers (summer salt), just like a movie (wallows) and lovers rock!!!!! (tv girl)
playlist 2: raf & frat rules (asap mob), strapped (asap twelvyy), steppas (a boogie), this is so toxic but... been away, rehab, forever yours, outside all night, trust, poison, all mine, wy@ (brent faiyaz), years go bye, been that way, whatever she wants, outside, sorry no sorry (bryson), telegraph ave & the worst guys (childish gambino), no pole, leave the club, company pt 3 (don toliver), literally any future song, sky (playboi), ghostface killers (21 and offset)
playlist 3: that's not me, don't talk, caroline no, god only knows, don't worry baby, in my room, forever, all i wanna do, our sweet love (beach boys), something, dear prudence, julia, don't let me down, and i love her, i need you, here there and everywhere (the beatles), dreams and linger (cranberries), our house and helplessly hoping (csny), baby (donnie and joe emerson), landslide, gypsy, dreams, silver springs, mystified (fleetwood mac), ballad of sir frankie crisp, isn't it a pity, if not for you, behind that locked door (george harrison), waterloo sunset (the kinks), swan song, terence loves you, heroin, white mustang, love song, california, bel air, sad girl, cruel world, black beauty, guns and roses (lana), harvest moon (neil young), long away, drowse, 39 (queen), sunday morning (velvet underground)
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zya. stop. your commentary makes everything so much better. why are you the sweetest person alive. ok favorite writers????? shut up im gonna cry
SRSLY!!! worst ex... pretty much still behaves like ur bf the entiiire time. u know the vibes
UR SISTER ajfslnkajs im crying
not u saying stand up. girl we would both be SAT
that doja cat song is so fitting stop!!!!!!
i love you ♡
ALL MINE
you had once thought rafe was bad at being a boyfriend. turns out, he was even worse at being an ex.
you couldn't pinpoint where it had all gone wrong in your relationship—mostly between days spent alone and nights wondering where he was and what he was doing, even who he was with. you felt constantly out of the loop, and though you tried to make it work for as long as you could, there was no denying that it wasn't working.
you thought you knew what you wanted, what you needed, when you told rafe the two of you needed to stop whatever this was. you could hardly call it a relationship anymore.
maybe some part of you felt happy when he tried to fight for you, when he wasn't letting you go that easily. but you had won in the end—thinking you were going to walk away scot-free and find some guy who would take you on dates and treat you right.
that had been two whole months ago—and you had tried. you'd been on three dates in that time, somehow each one worse than the last and never, ever leading to a second one. everything felt so forced and robotic—though you had never felt that way with rafe.
no, you and him had been electric from the start. that's why it was even harder to stop thinking about him, to push away every stray thought that crept into your mind in the middle of the night. you resist every urge to send a text or dial his number that you've memorized and are unable to forget.
if only someone would tell rafe to do the same. his contact in your phone—a simple r and nothing else—lights up your screen much too often for comfort. everytime you see it, your mind thinks about what it used to look like, his name spelled out with a blue heart and a photo of him that you had to take off his contact because staring at it for too long led you into temptation.
at first it had been fine. how are you? followed by one-word answers and then something that made your heart burn in your chest. good. gotta make sure you're ok.
you should have told him two months ago that how you're doing is no longer any of his concern—that this concern should have appeared when you were his girlfriend. instead you reply with a thank you and turn your phone off, because no matter how much you want yourself to hate rafe cameron, you never have and you never will.
the texts had recently been getting more frequent—something else that should have been alarming. instead you find yourself staring at your phone, biting your lip and wondering what rafe was doing right now that he stopped and thought of you.
it's terrible—it's akin to torture, the worst form. you slip down the rabbithole and start replying mere minutes after he's sent you a message—because you never keep rafe waiting. never have, never will.
the third date since the breakup is a worse than the other two put together, and it's your own fault, you should have never suggested the country club for a harmless lunch. your boyfriend—shit. your ex-boyfriend spots you from half a mile away, only waits for you to smile politely and step away to the bathroom before confronting the boy you're with.
when you get back, your date cuts lunch short, dodging out and staring back at someone with a touch too much fear in his eyes. you don't want to know what rafe said. you can barely get yourself to think about why he did it.
like always, you go home alone. there hasn't been anyone you've met since your breakup that you've liked enough to bring home, or rather, dared to bring home.
quarter to eleven on a saturday night. you should be at the party right now, the one that everyone on your side of the island is at, but you can't find the will to go. you'd gotten dressed up—hair and makeup perfect and pretty, just for a night in. a thought rushes through your mind—one you really wish had just stayed away.
you've done your hair how rafe likes, your makeup the way he always commented that looked nice. even the dress you'd picked out was one of his favorites, now perched across a chair, though you can distinctly remember the last time it had been dropped on the floor of rafe's bedroom.
and though you really, really shouldn't, when your phone buzzes with a call, and that familiar number dances across the screen, you answer.
you bring the phone to your ears, bringing your knees in and curling tightly into yourself. your back is perched up against the headboard, you watch goosebumps dance across the skin of your thighs. you don't stay anything yet.
"hey, kid." you wish you could melt through your bed, through the floor and into the ground. that would be a better fate than what you're about to subject yourself to.
"what'd you want, rafe?" it comes out too quickly, too harshly. you only half meant it—but it's too late to retract the statement. with bated breath you wait, wondering what's to come.
"what? can't check in on my girl?" the way he says it, you almost believe it, almost delude yourself into thinking you're still rafe's and rafe's still yours.
"i'm not your girl anymore, remember?"
"you should be."
you shut your eyes, eyes feeling surprisingly wet. you blink away the tears, not really upset but more... hurt. hurt by what he did, what you went through. hurt by what he's doing now. but you don't stop and hang up the call, like you should. you listen carefully, the faint noises in the background that sound like rafe went to the party you were supposed to be at tonight.
"are you drunk, rafe?" you ask it with too much concerning pouring into your voice.
"nah, kid. don't worry about me."
you pause again. you should really, really shut up.
"i always worry about you." you hear a rush of breath—half a laugh, half a sigh. rafe's probably smiling right now, happy that he got you to finally cave.
"m'fine. listen, i-"
"no," you interrupt, heart beating quickly and not sure if you can handle what he's about to say. "don't. just go back to the party. have fun. hang up and we'll both stop thinking about each other."
"i only came here to come find you," rafe says, and now you're the one letting out a shuddery breath, wondering if it would be better if you just ended the call and went to bed. "c'mon kid. there's nothin' i could do to stop thinkin' about you. i-i know i've been the worst. i'm tryna do better, okay? i'm-"
"rafe?" you ask, suddenly breathless and all too impatient to get him to stop talking.
"yeah?"
"you wanna come over?"
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i am here to formally beg you for more all 3 pogue boys × clueless pogue reader (respectfully ofcvxhxvx) 🙇♀️
omg hi babe!!! yes yes yes i love that dynamic. writing the other boys is so fun i do it so rarely though. pls send ideas im so down to write moreeee!!!!!!
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shy reader
ZYAAA ur soooo right bye
shes the horniest lets all be fr shes just the best at hiding it... sometimes... her ability vaporizes when she gets within 5 feet of rafe tho
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https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/752669582548926464/real-q-but-do-you-guys-prefer-longer-or-shorter
Wait can you link like a shorter one and a longer one? Js so I can see
ofc!!
the waking rafe up to pee one was so short vs the rafe being mean to shy reader was longer
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princess!! how do you think rafe would react if reader n him are arguing and she tells him that he has some serious daddy issues.
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
he gets all mean. rafe doesn’t like being vulnerable, and if he’s not in the right mood to admit to victimhood — he doesn’t exactly like having his vulnerabilities pointed out either.
you’re huffing and puffing, storming around your bedroom as you pack for the ‘weekend business trip’ that rafe had organised on both of your behalf, forcing you to cancel your plans just so he could appease to his father and the business.
“but we had plans, rafe. why can’t you learn how to say no? you have some serious daddy issues if—” you rant angrily and he cuts you off with a sudden explosion.
“hey!” he yells and you shut up, turning around with wide eyes before he storms towards you, gripping your wrist to stop you from pushing him back in instinct. “this is for the business, a’ight? know you don’t quite understand what it’s like to have a real fuckin’ job, but uh — sometimes, you gotta put aside your little social plans to do some real shit and make some money. the money i spend on your god damn nails and shopping trips so i— i don’t wanna hear you psychoanalyse me, okay?” he scolds loudly, and in all honesty— despite him being mean you know he’s a little right.
you nod, silently and he lets go, allowing you to continue on packing as he paces in irritation behind you. “its like — like you have no idea how much i’m fuckin’ hustling right now. no appreciation. whatsoever.”
“i do.” you mope and he shakes his head, going back to picking up the clothes you’d thrown on the floor due to your miniature tantrum.
“daddy issues…” he scoffs to himself. “you’re one to fuckin’ talk. can’t cum without callin’ me dad, sounds like the calls coming from inside the god damn house, kid. shit.”
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
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real q but do you guys prefer longer or shorter drabbles because it seems like the shorter ones always get so much more interaction
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rude nasty s1 rafe who puts u in ur place … i need U
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this song makes me think of rafe anytime i listen to it
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rafe looks even cuter when he's asleep.
you don't know how the thought has never crossed your mind up until now—it's so alarmingly obvious to you right now. you stare—a bit stalkerish, even for you—but that doesn't deter you at all. you watch his chest rise and fall with each breath, the way he's completely crazy, sleeping firm on his back with one arm on your waist and the other tucked behind his head.
maybe rafe seems even cuter just because he's escaping all the stress of his real life right now—firmly asleep with hopefully nothing but nice dreams about you. and as much as you try to avoid it, you are the primary cause of all of rafe's stress. he worries about you from dawn to dusk, even when you try to convince him there's nothing to be worried about.
it's become something of a habit for him—taking care of you, making sure you're okay, even when he's not around. and you—well, you've gotten quite reliant on it. on him. you're not positive—but you think rafe likes it.
even now, on the verge of waking him up because you can't sleep, you hope he doesn't get mad. it doesn't stop you though.
"rafe," you whisper, pushing his arm softly, and then a little harder. "rafe. rafe."
he groans, eyes still shut. the third push has him blinking, staring up at the ceiling and getting his bearings.
"what time is it?" he slurs, clearly still half-asleep. "still dark, kid, go back to bed-"
"i can't sleep," you say a little too quickly, your restlessness presenting itself quite clearly. "please. i don't know why. i'm scared."
rafe closes his eyes, but then opens again, no matter how hard it is to stay awake right now. he sits up a little, propping his back against his headboard. when he turns to look at you, he doesn't feel so tired anymore.
you look really awake, like you haven't had an ounce of rest since the two of you went to bed hours ago. fiddling with the straps of your nightgown, you look up at him the way you always do—like rafe can solve any one of your problems in a minute.
and he likes it. rafe doesn't even try and hide it anymore—he loves it and loves that about you.
"what're you scared of, huh?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep. you breath in and out, trying to figure out how to explain.
"i dunno. i just am."
"okay," rafe says quietly. he closes his eyes for a few moments and then opens again. your lips curl into a pout automatically—you feel bad for waking him up. "how can i help?"
"i don't know that either. i just want to feel close to you."
"m'right here, kid-" rafe extends an arm around you, bringing you into his chest. you curl up against him like you always do, breathing in the scent of his skin and the warmth from where his hand rubs your back. but it's still not enough.
"i want to be even closer," you murmur, feeling a little more tired but not nearly enough to actually fall asleep.
"how d'you suppose i do that, hm?" you look up at your boyfriend—cuter still with his eyes closed like this.
"can't you just.." feeling surprisingly bold—probably from how wired yet exhausted you currently are—you sneak a hand over rafe's pajama shots, pressing your hand down until-
"jesus, kid. gimme some warning, huh-"
"what? you said you're 'never too tired for that', remember?"
"well, i lied. c'mon baby, just go to bed, i'll fuck you first thing in the morning."
"hmpf," you scoff, turning around and taking much of rafe's comforter with you. you don't have to see rafe to know what's going on—he's rolling his eyes and sitting up, probably has his head in his hands for a moment.
"jesus, kid. you're gonna kill me. c'mere," rafe says, turning you back around to face him with just one hand. your body flops next to him, staring up at rafe, seeing what he'll do next.
"we don't have to do it," you finally say, watching rafe move around in the sheets for a few moments. "can't you just... put it inside?"
"sure i can. c'mon," he says, and you climb onto rafe's lap as swiftly as you can. it doesn't take much—he slides up your nightie with one hand and pulls down his shorts with the other. you feel rafe prodding at your tight hole when he grabs at your tits, letting the skirt of your sleepwear fall back down.
"you just said-" rafe cuts you off.
"still gotta wake him up, remember?" you roll your eyes but they end up rolling all the way back. rafe slides in quickly—you almost fall onto his chest at the feeling.
incredibly full, realizing this is exactly what you needed, you let yourself curl back up against him. rafe's saying something quietly to you, one of his hands firm on your ass and the other on your back, but you can't even hear him.
"thank you rafey," you murmur, interrupting him without even realizing. "this is what i needed." rafe presses a kiss to your hair and you fall asleep before you even hear him whisper back.
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