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★

JVL

Discoholic 🪩
Claire Keane

@theartofmadeline
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if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

tannertan36

izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms

titsay

shark vs the universe
Peter Solarz
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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No title available

roma★
🪼

seen from India

seen from Brazil
seen from Italy

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Luxembourg

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from Greece

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from India

seen from Poland

seen from France

seen from Italy
seen from Germany
seen from France
seen from United States

seen from United States
@vinsrafes
—On the other side of the altar
rafe cameron x reader
cw: angst, heartbreak, wedding, childhood best friends to unspoken love, sister’s wedding
wc: 576| one-shot
You had known him forever.
His voice, his laugh, even the shadow of his walk — all of it was a part of your childhood, your world. Memories of Rafe stretched like fragile threads: summer vacations by the ocean, when he splashed water at you and you screamed with joy; secret late-night talks on the roof of his house, where you dreamed of a future while staring at the stars.
You both knew. But neither of you ever said it.
The words always got stuck in your throats, and silence became the safest place to hide.
Now you’re staring at his reflection in the mirror.
A white shirt, perfectly ironed, far too formal for the boy you once knew. He’s playing with the ring in his fingers, as if it doesn’t belong to him, as if it doesn’t fit his skin.
You’re standing too close — far too close for your heartbeat to stay calm. Your fingers catch on the fabric of his tie, adjusting it, while he leans just a little lower, and his breath brushes your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
“You always fix everything for me,” he whispers with a faint smile, as if he’s afraid to shatter the fragile moment.
You look up. And the world slows down.
Those blue eyes — so familiar, so achingly dear — hold everything you both left unsaid. They ask the question: “Why not us?” They hold a desperate confession he’ll never say out loud.
But between you stands a wall.
His choice — your sister. Your blood. Your family.
You smile. Too tightly, too steady.
“It’s perfect now.”
He looks like he wants to say something more, but the words drown in the air. And both of you pretend nothing ever happened.
The ceremony begins in the garden.
The sun hangs low above the horizon, drenching everything in golden light. The air smells of jasmine and candles lined along the aisle. Wooden chairs creak, guests whisper, someone clinks a glass of wine.
Everyone looks at the bride.
And you look at him.
He stands by the altar, dazzling in his suit, and in that moment he doesn’t feel real. Too distant. Too far away.
Your sister walks toward him down the aisle, smiling so wide it squeezes hearts in the crowd. You hear women sighing softly beside you, children giggling as they scatter rose petals.
And you feel your own heart breaking — slowly, with a crack only you can hear.
He speaks his vows. His voice is steady, firm — but you know him too well. You hear the fracture beneath every word. You hear the shadow behind every pause.
And then she slides the ring onto his finger. He does the same for her.
Applause. Laughter. Pure happiness all around.
But you sit in the shade, and tears stream down your cheeks. Everyone thinks it’s joy, affection, tenderness. That’s what it should be. You’re the bride’s sister. Of course you’re happy.
But you’re not.
Every tear is a farewell.
Every drop is a confession that will never leave your lips.
For a moment, he looks at you. Just one second.
And you see it. The same thing in his eyes that burns in yours: “Who knows?”
Maybe both of you.
Maybe neither.
And then it all drowns in music, in applause, in the laughter of the guests.
And you sit there in the corner, crying — and no one knows why.
Only the wind.
Only he knows the truth.
random texts between ex!rafe and you
quantity:7
—heatwave
rafe cameron x reader
cw: explicit content (18+), rough tension, teasing, dom!rafe, semi-public, pool setting, jealousy, oral (f receiving), possessive behavior
wc: ~717| one-shot
The heat clung to your skin like a second layer. Sticky, heavy. Even the breeze that drifted lazily through the backyard carried no relief — just the scent of chlorine, sunscreen, and smoke from someone’s half-finished joint.
You leaned against the edge of the pool, legs dipped into the water, sipping something strong and sugary. Laughter echoed behind you, bodies tangled in towels and drinks and sun. Somewhere behind all of it — you could feel him.
Rafe Cameron.
Leaning against the railing, dark tank top clinging to his skin, beer in hand, sunglasses sliding down his nose just enough to let his eyes rest on you. Again. And again.
He didn’t hide it.
He never had.
“You’re staring,” you murmured, not turning your head when his shadow loomed behind you.
“I’m lookin’,” he corrected lazily, voice soaked in confidence. “You always make it so fucking easy.”
You shivered. Not from the breeze.
From him.
He crouched behind you, fingers ghosting over the top of your thighs. “Been ignoring me all day. That little act you put on? Laughing too loud, walking around in that little swimsuit like I wouldn’t say shit?” His voice dipped lower. “You wanted my attention.”
“You’re insane,” you breathed, heart thudding.
His grip tightened suddenly — a silent warning. “You wore that for me. Didn’t you?”
You turned just enough to meet his eyes. Heat. Fire. No escape.
You didn’t answer.
You didn’t need to.
He chuckled low. “That’s what I thought.”
He pulled you up before you could react, leading you away from the crowd. Past the pool deck. Around the side of the house where no one could see — but could easily hear if you were too loud.
“Rafe—” you started, but he had you pressed against the wall, hand wrapped around your jaw.
“No more games, baby,” he said, mouth brushing yours. “You’ve been begging for this without even saying a word.”
Then he kissed you.
Hard.
Possessive.
Like he was claiming territory.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, trying to stay upright as his hand slid down your body, gripping your ass like he owned it. He did. In this moment — he fucking did.
“Turn around,” he growled.
You obeyed before your brain caught up. His hands were already tugging at the thin strings of your bikini bottom, letting it fall to the ground
He pressed against you — you could feel how hard he was, straining against his shorts.
“Bent over, soaking wet, waiting for me like a good girl,” he muttered. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
Then he slid his fingers between your legs.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered. “Didn’t even touch you yet, and you’re dripping for me.”
A moan slipped from your lips.
“You gonna stay quiet for me, baby?” he teased, dragging his fingers slowly. “Or do you want the whole damn party to know who’s fucking you?”
He pushed two fingers in — rough, fast, curling in all the right places. Your knees buckled.
“That’s it,” he praised. “Take it.”
And you did. You took everything he gave.
His fingers.
His tongue — when he dropped to his knees and buried his face between your thighs, moaning like you were his last meal.
Then finally — finally — he was inside you.
Fast.
Hard.
No hesitation.
He kept one hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds, the other gripping your hip so tight it’d bruise.
“You feel that?” he gritted in your ear. “You feel what you do to me?”
You nodded frantically, lost in the rhythm, the slap of skin against skin, the way his body moved with yours like he’d been waiting forever.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“I want you,” you gasped. “Only you.”
He groaned — low and dangerous — and came with a growl, burying his face in your neck as you unraveled around him seconds later.
The world tilted.
You stayed like that — breathless, tangled, wrecked — until his hand slid down your spine and he kissed the back of your neck.
“Still pretending you don’t want me?” he murmured.
You didn’t answer.
You didn’t need to.
—no one else gets this.
rafe cameron x reader
cw: rough sex, possessive!rafe, choking (light), jealousy, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, marking. 18+ only.
wc:316 | one-shot
not deducted
"you knew what you were doing when you walked in with that skirt."
He’s got you flat on your stomach, pressed deep into the mattress, hand tangled in your hair like he owns you — because he does, at least tonight. He’s not talking much. Just breathing heavy, jaw clenched, cock hard against your ass through his jeans.
You feel the rage in his grip. The way his body trembles not from nerves — but from holding back.
Not anymore.
"Spread your legs," he growls. "Now. Don’t fucking test me."
You do. You don’t dare disobey.
He slides in without warning — raw, fast, buried to the hilt — and you cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He shoves your hips down harder, deeper, fucking you like it’s punishment.
"You wanted this? You wanted me like this?"
Thrust. Thrust. Your fingers claw at the sheets.
"You do shit like that on purpose. Act all sweet, all innocent — but then you walk in with that mouth, that fucking skirt..."
His hand wraps around your throat. Not tight. Just enough to make your breath catch — just enough to remind you who you belong to.
"All you’re good for is taking my cock like the pretty little slut you are."
You moan, dizzy and dripping. He knows it. His fingers slide between your legs, rub fast, mean, like he wants you to fall apart all over him. You do.
You come with a broken sound, thighs shaking, mouth open, body gone — and he doesn’t stop. Not yet.
He bites your shoulder. Hard. You’ll feel it tomorrow.
"Mine. Say it."
"Yours," you whimper. "Fuck, Rafe — all yours."
He finishes deep, raw, growling against your skin, and you swear he almost collapses on top of you.
He stays inside. Breathing heavy. Not moving. Just holding you there, buried, full, wrecked.
"No more skirts," he mutters against your neck. "Unless you’re ready for this every time."
—just a party.
rafe cameron x reader
cw: obsession, alcohol, jealousy, possessive!rafe, explicit language. 18+ only.
wc:535 | one-shot
not deducted
The party was already dissolving into its own mess. Sweat, alcohol, smoke, noise. Lost phones, smudged mascara, music that I didn’t even hear anymore — just felt in my chest like a second heartbeat.
But I knew he was watching.
Rafe.
Leaning against the doorway, cigarette half-finished, hooded eyes fixed on me like a fucking target.
I laughed at something JJ said — not even flirty, just polite — and that was all it took. Rafe dropped the cigarette, crushed it, and started walking.
You don’t hear him. You feel him.
And then he was behind me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Having fun?" he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel. "You like people looking at you like that?"
I turned slowly. Didn’t flinch.
"It’s just a party..."
His hand wrapped around my wrist. Not hard. But firm. Intentional.
"Come with me."
"Rafe—"
"I said, come."
No room for arguing. He pulled. Through the crowd, up the stairs, into a locked bedroom — one I’m sure wasn’t his, but he had the key anyway.
The door slammed. Silence. Just breathing.
"Tell me you didn’t know what you were doing. Laughing like that. Acting like you’re not mine."
His voice dropped.
"Tell me you didn’t want me to snap."
I stayed quiet.
He moved in, crowding me against the wall.
"Don’t pretend you don’t want me to fuck you right now," he whispered, hand sliding up to wrap gently but possessively around my throat. Not choking. Just claiming. "You do. You want it. From me."
I inhaled sharply. His mouth was already on mine — messy, hot, angry. Tasting like beer and something dangerous. His hands slid under my skirt, ripped my underwear off like they were in his way. His fingers pushed inside like he owned me. Because he did.
"Already so wet," he muttered darkly. "One smile and I lose my fucking mind. You think that’s fair?"
You try to speak — he cuts you off with another kiss, harder. Rougher. His fingers don’t stop. They only go deeper.
Then he unzipped his jeans. Still staring at me like I was the only thing he could see. His cock was already hard, throbbing.
He lifted me in one swift motion, setting me down on the desk by the wall, pushing my knees apart, breathing fast.
And then he was inside. No warning. No patience. Just all of him, all at once.
You gasped. He groaned low in your ear.
"That’s it," he rasped. "You’re mine. That’s your punishment. And your reward. Got it?"
He fucked like he meant it — like he was mad, or scared, or starving. Every thrust harder than the last. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Just held onto him, nails digging into his back, moaning his name as everything blurred.
"Yeah, baby," he growled. "Let them hear who you belong to."
You came first. Loud, legs shaking, breath stolen.
He came after — deep, raw, gritting your name through his teeth.
Silence again. Heavy. Warm.
He didn’t move. Just stayed there. Still inside. Still looking at you.
Then he whispered:
"Now go. And tomorrow... be mine again. Or I’ll come remind you."
You nodded. Because you already knew what this was.
— I knew you’d pray to me
The corridor of the old church smells of wax, incense, and a subtle sweetness—perhaps that sweetness was you. This Sunday, you came again dressed in white: your skirt covers your knees, a ribbon in your hair, eyes lowered. But he’s already waiting—leaning against the stone wall, a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth, eyes fixed only on you. You know: he doesn’t read the Scripture—he rewrites it to his will. He doesn’t fear the flames of hell, because he believes he is the fire sent to burn girls like you. And deep down, you like that. It scares you how much.
You walk toward him like a sinner to temptation. Like a blessing that came to ruin you. A curse in flesh and smoke.
pairing: preacher’s son!Rafe Cameron x church girl!reader
rating: 18+ only
setting: church, summer, service, confessional, rituals
religious guilt & arousal • public innocence / hidden lust • cunnilingus in the confessional • dirty talk against prayers • face buried in robe folds • unprotected rough sex on altar steps • cum as communion • spiritual degradation / body worship • forced prayer with cock in mouth
tw:
fiction. All characters are 18+. This text contains taboo dynamics, religious symbolism, manipulation, and psychological dependency. Do not read if this causes discomfort.
⸻ after dark
It was supposed to be just a movie night. But his fingers found you first… then your lips, your voice, your body — all while she was still asleep in the room.Now you're sitting on his lap, moving, gasping into his mouth, pretending this isn’t real. But it is. You already know you'll do it again.
pairing: stepdad!Rafe Cameron × fem!reader
rating: 18+ only
setting: domestic, forbidden, midnight
dark romance / taboo dynamic•age gap / power imbalance•heavy sexual tension•unprotected p in v•soft dom!rafe•quiet sex / someone asleep in the room•fingering•multiple orgasms•slow burn but filthy•heavy body detail & wet descriptions
tw:
all characters are 18+this is a fictional, consensual & taboo-themed scenarioexplore with caredo not read if you're uncomfortable with:stepdad/stepdaughter, public risk, manipulative undertones, age/power imbalance
ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘
rafe cameron × reader
soft!rafe / sweet!reader / hurt-comfort /wc-637
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
annotation
He comes quietly. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t look you in the eye. He just stays beside you until your breathing evens out. And then he leaves. But tonight — he lingers. And for the first time, he stays.
━━ ✦ The Other Wedding ✦ ━━
✦NSFW!✦
✦18+✦
✦ Pairing:ex!Rafe Cameron × ex!Reader
✦wc:711
annotation
She came as a guest. He’s the groom. There’s no obsession, no lingering love — just memory, heat, and silence. No one touches like he does. No one moans like she does. There’s no emotion left. Just her hands on the sink, his cock buried deep, and cum dripping down her thighs while his bride smiles somewhere outside.
✦ Warning(18+):This fanfic contains explicit sexual content (18+), including:— rough sex between exes— morally inappropriate situation: sex on the day of someone else's wedding— cheating, semi-public place (bathroom)— unprotected sex / cum inside— verbal degradation, physical intensity, unresolved historyAll characters are 18+.Genre: PWP — no romance, focused on physicality, tension, and emotional detachment.
✦ kinks/content Tags:— rough sex / public bathroom— face down / hair pulling / choking — unprotected sex / cum inside— degradation (verbal)— exes fucking— no aftercare / no romance
✦ Tropes:— ex-lovers— cheating— public sex— forbidden setting— wedding day sex— cold, disconnected sex
━━ ✦ Daughter-in-Law ✦ ━━
✦NSFW!✦
✦18+✦
✦ Pairing: DILF!Rafe Cameron × Slutty!Reader (she’s dating his son)
✦ WC:794
annotation
She lives with his son. Wears his shirts, sleeps in his bed, makes coffee in his kitchen. But she belongs—to him. Rafe Cameron calls her "daughter-in-law," smirks through his teeth, grips her by the throat, and never asks for permission. Her boyfriend disappears more and more often. Says, “You’re basically at home already.” And she is. Because now home is the weight of the older Cameron’s body pressing her down. The voice at her ear whispering: “Spread your legs, daughter-in-law.”
✦ Warnings (18+): This story contains explicit sexual content including: — dom/sub dynamic — age gap (DILF) — morally corrupt dynamic: girlfriend × boyfriend’s father — power imbalance and control — verbal degradation and explicit dirty talk — unprotected sex / cum inside — possessiveness, obsession, emotional manipulation All characters are 18+. Genre: PWP — plot is minimal, emphasis is on taboo, physicality, domination and moral erosion. If you are triggered by themes of infidelity, control, coercion, or power play — do not read.
✦ Kinks / Content tags: — rough sex — spanking / hair pulling / choking — oral (f→m) / facefucking — unprotected sex / creampie — degradation (verbal) — size kink — power imbalance — semi-public sex (in the house) — possessiveness / control — aftercare (rough → soft)
✦ Tropes: — forbidden relationship — age gap (18+ reader × ~40yo Rafe) — affair / cheating — morally grey DILF — reader lives with her boyfriend’s dad — “daughter-in-law” used as fetish term — he doesn’t share — sexual obsession / dominance / control — “You’re already home”
random texts between you and Rafe
Quantity:8
English is not my language.
random texts between you and Rafe
Quantity:9
A few more texts between you and Rafe
English is not my language.I did this format for the first time, let me know if you want more and you liked it!
random texts between you and Rafe
Quantity:10
note :Rafe is hitting on you
English is not my language.I did this format for the first time, let me know if you want more and you liked it!
random texts between you and Rafe
Quantity:10
note :Rafe is hitting on you
English is not my language.I did this format for the first time, let me know if you want more and you liked it!
random texts between you and Rafe
English is not my language.I did this format for the first time, let me know if you want more and you liked it!
quantity:7
cute
bf!cute!rafe×gf!reader
wc-420
I am not a native English speaker, read at your own risk.and send requests about what you would like to read.
annotation :Rafe is begging you to delete the Instagram post where he's wearing makeup, where you practically made him sit still while you painted him and made him pout for effect by signing: "My beloved does everything I say."
"Delete it, baby, delete it, delete it, delete it, please," sounded so pleading that it was almost pathetic.
But you're having fun. Not everyone gets to see Rafe Cameron himself begging, right? Especially when you're his favorite girl, whom he can't handle, and so you do whatever your heart desires.
"No, honey, I like it. You're so cute there," you said almost boringly, looking at him innocently and almost mockingly pinching his cheek, touched by his expression.
He's so cute.
"Baby!" he exclaims desperately, but he doesn't move away, just leans on you harder to pin you to the mattress and take your phone.
"Topper has already eaten into my brain that it's a damn heel!"
"Aren't you like that?"
You pouted, raising an eyebrow for emphasis. There was a moment's silence, followed by a disappointed groan.
"Yes, I am," he snorted, trying to look damn angry and annoyed, but it only touched you even more.
"But they don't have to know, you know. They can't know that I'm under your damn thumb and doing whatever you want. Come on, baby, get out," he went on a long moan.
You couldn't stand it, so you squinted, holding the phone tighter just in case, so that he wouldn't pick it up ahead of time before you inserted the conditions.
"You'll buy me ten stuffed animals, and they'll be on our bed. Agreed?"
It was tough because he literally hated the way your toys, which you didn't need at all, were lying on the bed.
You thought he wouldn't agree, but he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Great, at least twenty. Get out, baby. We'll go get them right now, if you want."
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but you smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips before going to your page and deleting the photo. Under his close supervision, of course. This made him groan softly at the number of likes the post had garnered.
"Whiner," you whispered, putting down your phone. You just saw his face relax with relief and jumped off the bed. Finally, she exclaimed, "It's time to buy neighbors for our bed!"