#rafe requests

THE SUMMER HE PROPOSED

conrad x reader

WARNINGS: none

just Conrad proposing to you WAYY better than Jeremiah ever could trust me and I didn’t really look over this story so there might be some mistakes

It started like any other late summer afternoon at Cousins — or at least, that’s what you thought.

The sky was that perfect, hazy blue that only exists at golden hour, streaked with soft clouds and the warmth of July. You hadn’t been to Cousins in weeks — not since school got so busy.

But Conrad had called you the night before, asking, “Come to Cousins with me tomorrow. Just for the day.”

You didn’t question it. When it came to Conrad, you never really could.

Now you were driving with the windows down, his hand resting on your thigh, the scent of salt and sunscreen already filling your lungs. Music played low on the radio, but he wasn’t singing along like he normally would. He was quiet. Not distant, just… quiet. Like he was trying to keep something inside.

Hiii love! I don’t write Rafe, yet! I want to understand his character a little bit more before I throw myself into that adventure! But I will be tagging some of my fave blogs and maybe they have their requests open ! 

💛💛💛

Nobody Knew About Her

conrad x reader

WARNINGS: nothing

stop I love this request it was so fun to write!!

The car ride was quiet with music in playing. The kind of silence that felt comforting. You were going to Cousins for Christmas dinner with Conrad’s family for the first time and they didn’t even know you. Conrad would glance over at you every few minutes just to make sure you were still okay.

“You nervous?” he asked suddenly, eyes still on the road.

You looked over at him. “A little.”

He smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “They’re gonna love you.”

“Yeah, but… they don’t even know I exist.”

He winced, giving a small, guilty chuckle. “Not like I was hiding you.”

You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly added, “Okay. Not intentionally. I just… liked it being ours, you know?”

You leaned back against the seat, lips twitching. “I know.”

By the time he pulled into the driveway, your heart was thudding a little faster. The house was glowing from the inside — warm lights, wreaths on the windows, and soft music leaking out through the front door when someone opened it and stepped outside.

Jeremiah.

He grinned when he saw the car. “Hey dude! Finally—”

Then his eyes landed on you as you stepped out the car and his smile slipped into surprise.

“Hey,” Conrad said, casual. “This is y/n.”

Jeremiah blinked. “Oh… wow. Uh, hi!”

You smiled politely. “Hi.”

He turned back toward the house and yelled, “Conrad brought a guest!”

That’s when the domino effect started. Everyone came out to the front foyer. Laurel. Steven. Belly.

Belly, in her soft red sweater, her wedding ring barely visible, her face freezing in an unreadable expression the second she saw you.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked from you to Conrad, and then back again. “Hey,” she said eventually. Her voice was flat. “Didn’t know you were bringing someone.”

Conrad gave a small shrug. “Didn’t think it needed to be a whole thing.”

Dinner was… weird after that.

Laurel was sweet, asking you questions, trying to make up for the awkwardness with warmth. Jeremiah was his usual charming self, though he kept glancing at Belly like he was trying to silently figure her out. Belly mostly picked at her food, said little things here and there — polite but pointed. Casual but cold.

Like when you mentioned your job, and she blinked and said, “Oh, so you’re not in school anymore? Huh.”

Or when Conrad handed you a glass of wine and she said, “Wow, I’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”

The room would go quiet every time.

Later that night, after everyone had said their goodnights and headed off to their rooms, you and Conrad were curled up in the guest room — the one he used to sleep in every summer. You were still in his hoodie, your makeup wiped off, his legs tangled with yours under the blanket.

His thumb was rubbing slow circles into your arm.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You hesitated. “I think she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“She didn’t even talk to me.”

“She didn’t talk because she was shocked,” he said gently. “That’s not your fault. That’s on me. I should’ve… given everyone a heads-up.”

You were quiet.

He leaned in, forehead pressing against yours. “But I don’t regret bringing you. Not for a second.”

You looked up at him. “Even though your ex was downstairs silently glaring at me over ham and mashed potatoes?”

He laughed under his breath. “Even then.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Is it going to be like this every holiday?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he said firmly. “This is the only surprise one. After this, you’re just… part of it. Like everyone else.”

You smiled, finally letting your shoulders relax. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed, and kissed your forehead. “We’ll be fine.”

— tempted

rafe x reader

synopsis: a simple shopping trip with rafe quickly turns into a bunch of teasing after seeing you in a dress and makes you get it—and he’s not letting you pay for a single thing no matter how hard you try

note: i did not feel like adding the right capitalization this time sorry guys

it was the third store when you slipped into the fitting room.

rafe leaned against the wall outside, arms crossed, pretending not to care while absolutely caring. the curtain rustled and you spoke.

“okay, don’t laugh.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he said, smirking.

you stepped out slowly, and rafe looked at you. his smirk dropped instantly, jaw tightening and tongue poking his cheek. the dress hugged you just right, clinging in all the places.

“fuck,” he muttered before he could stop himself.

you grinned. “that bad?”

he stepped closer, one hand slipping to your waist. “no. that dangerous.”

you laughed softly, and his thumb brushed against your hip. he leaned in, not kissing you—just close enough that you could feel him.

“turn around,” he murmured.

you did, and he exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to keep it together. his hands settled on your lower back, fingers warm and grounding.

“you trying to start something in the middle of a mall?” he asked quietly.

you tilted your head back around him. “maybe.”

he chuckled under his breath, forehead dropping to your shoulder for half a second. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

you turned back toward the mirror, but he caught your wrist gently.

“your getting this,” he said. not a question.

“i’ll think about it.”

his eyes darkened just a little. “don’t.”

your heart raced as you went back into the fitting room. when you came out again, changed, rafe was still there—still watching you like that.

that’s when you decided you’d pay for it yourself.

you walked to the line and stood at the counter with a pile of clothes in your arms, already pulling your card from your wallet like you’d done this a hundred times before. rafe was right behind you, close enough that you could feel him without touching him.

“i got it,” you said casually, sliding the card forward.

a hand came down over yours—his.

“no,” rafe said, low.

you turned your head slightly, eyebrow raised. “rafe.”

he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “put the card away.”

you scoffed, trying to step forward anyway, but his grip tightened just enough to stop you.

“i can pay for my own stuff,” you insisted, though your voice betrayed you.

he hummed softly behind you, clearly entertained. “yeah,” he murmured. “and i can let you. but i’m not gonna.”

you finally turned to face him, chest nearly brushing his. “why not?”

his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up.

“because you look real pretty holding things i bought you,” he said. “and because i like when you get that look on your face.”

“what look?”

he smirked, thumb hooking into the strap of your bag and tugging you closer. “that one.”

your breath stuttered, and you hated that he noticed—loved that he noticed.

the cashier cleared their throat awkwardly.

rafe didn’t even look away from you as he pulled out his own card. “sorry,” he said lazily. then, quieter to you, “you can thank me later.”

you crossed your arms, pretending to pout, but he only leaned in again, lips brushing your cheek—barely there.

“don’t worry,” he whispered. “i’ll make it up to you.”

when you walked out, shopping bags swinging from his hands, you tried to take one.

he lifted it just out of reach.

“uh-uh,” he said. “you tried to pay. lost your privileges.”

you glared at him, but he was already smiling—entirely too pleased with himself.

and the worst part?

YOUR ARMS, HIS SAFE PLACE

conrad x reader

WARNINGS: none

summary: Conrad reaches his breaking point after a call with his dad about his mom’s estate, the weight having to be the strong one and do everything falls apart. You remind him he doesn’t always have to be the strong one.

Conrad had been distant all day, a little quieter than usual, but you didn’t press him. You knew by now that Conrad’s silences were layered — sometimes they meant nothing, sometimes they meant everything. Still, when you heard his voice down the hall, low and sharp, something in your chest told you to listen.

“I can’t—please, just stop,” he muttered into the phone, his tone fraying at the edges. Then silence.

When you walked into his room a minute later, his phone was facedown on the bed. Conrad sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees. He didn’t look at you, just ran both hands over his face like he could scrub away whatever had just happened.

“Conrad?” your voice was careful, soft.

He let out a bitter laugh, the kind that wasn’t really a laugh at all. “It’s my dad,” he muttered. “He wants me to deal with lawyers, with paperwork—everything about Mom’s estate. Like I’m supposed to be the one keeping it all together. Like I’m—” His voice caught hard, breaking mid-sentence. He stopped, shook his head, and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

Your chest ached. Conrad had always been the strong one, the one everyone leaned on, but no one ever gave him anything back or asked how he felt.

You crossed the room, sitting beside him on the bed. “That’s not fair,” you whispered. “He shouldn’t put all of that on you.”

Conrad laughed again, short and sharp. “That’s nothing new.” His shoulders shook slightly as he dragged in a ragged breath. “If I don’t handle it, everything falls apart. And then it’s my fault.”

“Hey,” you murmured, sliding your hand over his wrist. “Look at me.”

For a moment, he wouldn’t. His jaw was tight, his throat working like he was fighting to keep it together. But when he finally lowered his hands, his eyes were red, lashes wet, and it nearly broke you.

You reached up and cupped his face. “You don’t have to do it all alone,” you whispered.

That was all it took. He broke down, and suddenly he was folding into you, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, arms wrapping around you so tight it almost hurt. His breath was unsteady, trembling.

You held him without hesitation, one arm around his waist, the other threading gently through his hair. “Shh, I’ve got you,” you murmured. “You don’t have to be strong with me.”

For a long time, Conrad just clung to you, his shoulders shaking as silent tears fell. You kissed the side of his head, rocking him slightly like you could ease the weight off his chest.

When his breathing finally began to slow, you pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were glassy, cheeks damp, hair falling into his face. Vulnerable. Beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t you apologize,” you cut in gently. “You’re allowed to break down, Conrad. You’re human. You don’t have to carry everything all the time.”

His throat bobbed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned into your touch when you brushed his hair back.

“Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

You went away just long enough to grab a glass from the kitchen. When you came back, he was still sitting there, shoulders slumped, eyes distant. You nudged the cup into his hands, and he took a few small sips before setting it down with a quiet thank you.

Then you tugged him gently until he lay back on the bed, his head in your lap. His sweatshirt was soft under your fingertips as you traced slow, absentminded patterns along his arm. With your free hand, you brushed his hair back from his forehead, letting your nails graze lightly against his scalp.

His eyes fluttered shut almost instantly, exhaustion pulling at him now that the floodgates had opened.

“You’re safe,” you whispered, your voice barely above the sound of the waves outside. “I’ve got you. Always.”

Conrad’s breathing evened out, slower, steadier. His hand, warm and heavy, found yours and laced your fingers together loosely, even in sleep.

Even Now, I Love You

conrad x reader

WARNINGS: none

you and conrad are exes and arguing. a storm hits, the power goes out, and everything you’ve both been holding in finally comes out.

The argument started before the storm.

Something stupid. Something small. One of those arguments that had been waiting to be talked about.

“You always shut me out,” you snapped, your voice louder than you meant it to be.

Conrad’s jaw clenched. “Because you never want to hear what I actually feel!”

“Well maybe if you said it instead of making me guess—”

“I did,” he fired back. “I always did. You just stopped listening.”

You glared at him across the kitchen, the flash of lightning outside painting his face in harsh, sharp contrast. You hated how good he still looked, even when you were mad. Even when you were broken. Even when everything felt like it was falling apart.

“I don’t even know why you came,” you said bitterly.

He didn’t answer.

Outside, thunder cracked.

And then — the lights went out.

The power outage stole the last of your anger.

In its place came silence, thick and tense. The only sounds were the storm outside and the shallow breaths you were both trying to control.

“I’ll find candles,” he muttered, already moving.

You didn’t stop him.

A few minutes later, the kitchen glowed in a warm light — a soft halo of light that made everything feel more intimate.

You stood near the sink. He stood at the counter. A few feet apart, but it felt like miles.

“I didn’t want to fight,” you said finally, voice quieter. “I just… I don’t know what we are anymore.”

Conrad looked at you like he was trying to memorize the moment.

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” he asked, and his voice cracked on the last word.

You looked down, unable to answer.

“I never stopped,” he said, stepping closer. “I tried. God, I tried. But you’re in everything.”

You blinked hard, tears threatening to fall.

He kept going.

“You’re in the songs I hear. The way I drive. The way I brush my teeth in the morning. I look for you out of habit, even when I know you’re not there.”

“Conrad—”

“I loved you when you slammed the door. I loved you when you didn’t text back. I loved you when I walked away, and I love you right now, even though I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me.”

You were crying now, full-on, hands shaking.

And then — softly, pleading:

“Stay,” he whispered. “Just stay.”

You looked up, and something in you broke. In the best way.

You crossed the space between you and kissed him like it was the first time all over again. Desperate. Deep. Real. Like you’d been waiting months just to breathe him back in.

He held you like he’d never let go again.

Outside, the storm kept raging.

But inside, in that candlelit kitchen, you found peace.

Together.

This is so rushed but I needed to write before I don’t write anything for a while since I’ve been so busy with cheer and school is starting soon 💔