s0lidar1ty

[s0lidar1ty]

The second screenshot is so upsetting to see. You’re reading a book about a victim of the holocaust and you’re asking some insensitive shit like that, rather than focusing on her story and the unimaginable suffering she had to endure at such a young age.

i can’t believe i have to say this but leave anne frank alone. she is not a fictional character where you can project your fucking headcanons about her. she was a 15 year old girl who was transferred along with her sister to a concentration camp where she and her sister died. the fact that the first thing that comes to some people’s minds when they read her story / diary is if she was lesbian or bi is astonishing. you should be thinking about what she went through. can you fucking imagine being in her position? you can’t and the fact that people are playing a guessing game on her sexuality disgusts me.

the romanticism and fanfictioning of the holocaust and anne frank (as well as other historical events) is beyond me.

[s0lidar1ty]

Sunday Service

read part 1 here!

The morning after, your perfume doesn’t cover it. Doesn’t cover the stench you feel deep in your bones as you get ready for church. You’d forgotten that last night was Saturday. You’d forgotten you had to be in the Lord’s house by 7 AM the next day.

You try. You really do—spritz your wrists, your neck, between your thighs. Powdery and floral, like something from your mother’s dresser. Like grace bottled and pressed into your pulse points.

But it’s still there.

The scent of him. Of sweat and skin and everything he took from you. It lingers in the back of your knees, along the insides of your thighs, between your legs where you couldn’t scrub too hard because the skin is too tender.

Everything is too tender.

You cross your legs in the pew, careful not to shift too quickly in fear you’ll rub the swollen handprint on your right cheek. The fabric of your dress goes past your knees, and it’s soft. A gauzy, off-white thing with puffed sleeves and a bow tied perfectly at the back of your head. You look like a good girl. You feel like a walking confession.

The sanctuary is too quiet.

Your father's voice rises and falls at the pulpit, but you can’t hear a word. You’re focused on the way your chest rises too fast. On the ache in your thighs. On the throb that hasn’t left your hips since he had you folded up the night before, spine bent, one leg slipping off the bed as he rocked into you so deep it hurt.

Your elbows press into your sides. You keep your hands folded, knuckles white.

It’s too warm in here.

Or maybe it’s just your body. Still flushed, still trembling. You shift slightly, and it pulses—low and deep and sharp, a hot ache buried somewhere your fingers can’t reach without risking another sin.

Because he touched you there, he found that spot inside you that made everything go hazy. Rubbed circles over your clit while he fucked said spot, fucked you, fucked the air out of your lungs until your legs shook and your vision went white.

Your thighs clench, and your heel slips off the pew’s lower rung. You catch yourself, barely.

It’s too much.

You try to pray, but the words feel foreign now. Like they don’t belong in your mouth anymore. You want to focus, but every time your father says shame, your chest tightens.

Because you remember the way his fingers dug into your hips, how he held you still and made your body take every inch, every thrust, every grind of bone and muscle. And the way he didn’t stop when you started crying, because it felt that good.

You nearly came apart.

No. You did.

And now you’re here. Trying—and failing horribly—to rid your mind of these Godforsaken memories that keep popping up at the worst moments.

Skirt smoothed. Hair curled. Bow perfect. Sitting in a row of women who’d never guess that your thighs are still sore from something you didn’t confess this morning. That you can’t even breathe right without remembering the weight of him on top of you, the scrape of his teeth against your shoulder (a mark you had to hide with a bandaid and lie to your mother and father when they asked what happened; telling them it was just a mosquitoe bite that you'd irritated by accident), the unbearable pressure of him inside you—again, and again, and again.

A part of you wants to get up and run. To go home and take a shower for as long as needed until you feel clean. For you to feel less like you’ve betrayed everything you’ve ever known.

Another part wants to sink deeper into the pew and let it consume you. Let the shame crawl over your skin and stay there. Let it mark you like his hands did. Maybe if you stay still enough, you’ll start to feel like yourself again.

But then the pew creaks behind you.

You don’t have to turn around.

You know it’s him.

He hasn’t touched you. Not here. He wouldn’t. But you can feel him watching—can feel the stare running down your back, all slow and heavy, like a hand dragging over your spine. 

And suddenly you’re back in that room, in that position, chest pressed to damp sheets and your voice caught somewhere between a sob and a moan.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hand, look up at the ceiling, and pray. 

[s0lidar1ty]

Rafe x Preacher's Daughter!Reader

read part 2 here!

he’s got you folded—face down, ass up, trembling at the edge of his bed with one knee almost slipping off the mattress. your cheek’s pressed into a damp patch on the sheets, spit-slick and hot from your own mouth, and your whole body jerks when he thrusts in again, slow and deliberate.

“you doin’ alright, pretty girl?” rafe murmurs, sweet as syrup and just as thick, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “or do i need to stop?”

you try to shake your head, but it’s a twitchy mess of “uh-uh” and a whimper as you push back on him, desperate, breath hitching when his teeth sink into your skin. he laughs, low and mean, and smooths a hand down your spine.

“didn’t think so.”

and then he slams back in, dragging a choked scream from your throat.

you don’t curse. not in public, not in private, not even in your head when you stub your toe. you were raised right—voice sweet, spine straight, hands folded politely over your skirt at all times. the kind of girl who says “yes sir” and “yes ma’am” and closes her eyes when she prays.

yet there’s nothing in your vocabulary for what rafe’s doing to you now. nothing in your head but white noise and friction and the thick, aching stretch of his cock inside you.

he’s being mean with it, too. mean and slow. like he’s making a point.

every time you start to get your breath under control, every time your body starts to adjust, he slams back in harder, deeper—pushing past your limit on purpose just to see if you’ll break.

but you don’t. you’re still biting it back, fists twisted in the sheets, panting hard into the mattress while your pussy throbs around him. still trying to be good. still trying to be quiet.

and then he hits a spot that makes your vision shatter.

your spine arches. your thighs lock. and something ugly and raw gets ripped from your mouth before you can stop it—

“fuck!”

he freezes behind you.

then chuckles mockingly like it’s exactly what he wanted.

“there she is.”

and then he starts up again, rougher now, balls slapping against your soaked clit with each unforgiving thrust.

you cry out, pressing your face into the sheets to let out a sob as your vocabulary falls apart, all your mannerisms unspooling into sweat and friction and sin.

“shit—oh my god, rafe, right there, please—” you gasp like the words taste foreign, knuckles turning white from your grip on the sheets.

he groans like they’re the best thing he’s ever heard.

“you hear yourself?” he pants, you can practically hear the grin on his face. “sweet little thing like you—cussin’ like a fuckin’ whore.”

you shouldn’t like it.

you shouldn’t like it—but your pussy clamps down so tight he groans, grabbing your hips hard enough to bruise and dragging you back onto his cock like your body belongs to him.

“say it again.”

you don’t. you can’t. not on purpose. but your cunt answers for you, fluttering around him in a desperate plea for more, and the sound that rips from your throat next is high and helpless and filthy.

“jesus!—i can’t…i’m gonna come—”

he slaps your ass so hard your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“didn’t hear you.”

you shake your head, mouth going slack as he fucks into your g-spot until your entire body is trembling.

“fffuck—” you gasp, “ohmygod!”

that hand on your stomach drags down between your legs, finds your clit and rubs in tight, messy circles that make your hips buck. you’re already so sensitive, already dripping down his cock and your thighs and the sheets beneath you, and now—

now it’s too much.

you sob into the pillow, body locking up as another orgasm punches through you, raw and messy and loud. your eyes roll back into your head and you can feel the drool starting to leak from your mouth. he fucks you through it, muttering filth into your hair, praising you like you’re something holy and ruined all at once.

“shit—oh fuck—rafe, please, please, don’t stop, i want it, i want all of it—fuck me full—”

and he does. of course he does.

he fucks you through it, deep and hard and fast, until you’re babbling and twitching under him, until your voice is hoarse and your thighs are shaking, until he groans your name like a curse and empties himself inside you with a full-body shudder.

he stays there for a moment—cock buried, chest rising and falling, hands still splayed across your hips like he owns you.

and then he leans down, kisses the back of your neck, and whispers against your skin like it’s a secret between you and god:

“knew that sweet mouth could be filthy.”

[s0lidar1ty]

Nanami is here! I also struggle drawing him but I feel like I did him alright here! 🥸

[s0lidar1ty]

the kook boys you used to date never used to eat you out. not really. 

they only did it because, well, who the fuck is dumb enough to ruin their chances with the baddest bitch in the banks?

but it was short, sloppy, and despite the clit being literally right there — they’d somehow suck, lick, and mouth at anything but the fucking clit.

but here you lay, on your back, with jj’s large hands keeping you spread perfectly.

he was practically making out with your cunt, and had been for at least forty five minutes. and had no intention of stopping thus far.

“jj— shit, please.” you whined, sharp manicured nails scraping along his scalp as you pulled at his blonde locks.

he hummed, tongue swiping up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it and sucking like it was a damn pacifier. your moans and huffs filled the air.

you looked like a fucking dream from where he was sitting.

well, laying.

skirt hiked around your hips, shirt bunched above your tits, nipples pebbled, chest heaving, brows scrunched and lips pouted.

the sight alone had him throbbing in his shorts, hips instinctively rolling to rut against the mattress like a bitch in heat.

but he didn’t stop, not once.

he continued to lick and suck, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit before pushing it into your needy and neglected hole — then repeat.

your face scrunched, feeling the same sensation building in your stomach once again. you honestly didn’t know how many times jj had you cumming on his tongue tonight alone.

sure, he always liked eating you out, but tonight it was like he physically couldn’t stop himself from mouthing and making out with your utterly perfect pussy.

“jayy…” you cried, lifting your head to look down at him. his cheeks were flushed, baby hairs stuck to his forehead, pupils blown to the size of his iris, almost hiding those beautiful baby blues.

and the stupidest grin on his face as he briefly separated from your cunt, juices covering him from his nose to his chin.

you sighed when he pulled away, and you weren’t even sure if it was from relief or disappointment.

“s’okay, mama. ‘taste so fuckin’ good.” he almost whined, pushing his face back into your sticky folds.

your eyes fluttered with a moan as he wrapped his lips around your clit once more and sucked, hand tightening in his hair and tugging him impossibly closer.

the coil was dangerously close to snapping, and your legs closed around his head — tightening like you were trying to crush his head.

he groaned, eyes rolling back with a huff through his nose like he was enjoying this more than you — and that sight alone made you snap.

“fuuuck!!! jay!” you practically screeched, back arching off the bed as you came once again, and he swallowed every fucking drop of your perfectly crafted essence.

he pulled away with a groan, kissing your twitchy clit with something like affection.

“best fuckin’ pussy. paradise on earth.”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ — @sarahsangelicdoll @lanasangelsz @abslvrs13

[s0lidar1ty]

THIS IS SO GOOD

baby daddy, again

petty!ex!wife!reader x ex!husband!rafe

warnings: infidelity, explicit sexual content (implied), pregnancy from an affair, manipulation, jealousy, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional tension, power imbalance, petty behavior, marital conflict, suggested exhibitionism

you pull into the driveway like you own it—because in a way, you still do. your daughter’s in the backseat humming to herself, kicking her feet like this is just any other drop-off. it isn’t. not for you. not for them.

you step out of the car slowly, sunglasses perched on your nose, sundress hugging your figure just enough to remind anyone watching exactly what rafe used to come home to. what he still does, sometimes. you unbuckle your daughter with a little hum, brushing her curls away from her face as she grins up at you.

“go on, baby,” you whisper with a kiss to her forehead. “daddy’s waiting.”

she runs toward the door, and that’s when you see her.

his wife.

she's standing there stiffly, clutching her phone like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. her jaw is tight, her eyes even tighter. she waits for the kid to go inside before stomping down the front steps like she’s ready to claw your eyes out.

you don't flinch. instead, you lean against your car, one leg crossed lazily over the other.

“you’re disgusting,” she spits, shoving her phone out for you to see. “you sent this to me? on our honeymoon?”

you glance at the screen. it’s a video—the video. you, bent over the vanity in rafe’s dressing room. his hands gripping your hips, that low growl he makes when he’s too far gone to fake it. timestamp? right before the ceremony. you grin.

“oh, that one,” you say casually. “morning of the wedding. i just thought he looked too good in that tux not to mess him up a little first.”

her nostrils flare. “you’re a pathetic, bitter whore.”

you lift your brows, lips curling. “and yet,” you hum, “your husband couldn’t keep his dick out of me. weird, huh?”

behind her, rafe steps outside. shirt rumpled, no shoes, hair still wet from a shower—or maybe sweat. you’d bet money she just tried to screw the guilt out of him and failed.

“don’t,” he warns quietly. “don’t do this here.”

but you’re not looking at him. you’re watching her—watching the way she’s unraveling. “you know,” you muse, “he used to beg me to wear red. that little lace set you found tucked in your honeymoon bag? mine. slipped it into his suitcase after he finished in me.”

she lunges, but rafe catches her arm before she can reach you. you laugh. it’s sweet. cruel.

you kneel to your daughter, smoothing her dress before wrapping her in a tight hug. she holds on for a second, then steps back and presses her tiny hand to your belly.

“bye bye, baby brother,” she chirps.

the silence that follows is delicious.

rafe freezes. his wife stares at you, then down at your stomach, then back again. the bump isn’t obvious—barely noticeable in the soft fabric of your dress—but now they’re looking. now they know.

you rise slowly, eyes locking with rafe’s. he looks stunned. maybe a little sick. definitely turned on. he always did like consequences.

you smirk.

“surprise,” you whisper like it’s a secret, like it’s sacred.

his wife’s mouth opens. she starts to speak, but you cut her off with a single wave.

“bye, baby daddy,” you say sweetly, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you strut back to the car.

you don’t look back when you drive off.

but you know he’s watching.

[s0lidar1ty]

[s0lidar1ty]

you don’t know how you ended up like this. well—you do. you let rafe climb on top of you in the middle of the night, after whispering “just a quickie, i promise” with that pretty grin like he wasn’t already rock hard and aching to be inside you.

and now…now your legs are hooked up over his shoulders, bent and pushed back so far you feel every single inch of him with every stroke. his pace is fast—not rough, but fast—his hips slapping against the backs of your thighs with soft, wet thuds, his abs tensing every time he drives into you. you’re gripping the sheets so tightly, with your head tipped back against the white pillow. you can’t stop the helpless moans falling out of your mouth, not even when you try to bite down on them.

“fuck, baby,” rafe pants, hovering over you, arms caging your head, face flushed and glistening. “you’re bein’ so loud…” and you are. too loud for where you are. the guest room walls are thin. ward and rose are asleep right above you. but your brain isn’t working right—can’t work right—not when he’s fucking you like this, deep and fast, his cock hitting that spot over and over that makes your eyes roll back.

he dips down lower, bending your legs even more, his chest brushing your knees now as he slaps a hand over your mouth and breathes hot into your ear. “shh shh shh… i know, baby. i know it feels good. ‘n you’re takin’ it so good for me,” he coos, voice all praise and filth, cocky and sweet and so fucking in love with the way your thighs tremble around him. your cries are muffled against his palm, your whole body shaking under the weight of his pace. he’s moaning now too—soft and desperate—his hips stuttering just slightly like he’s getting close, like the sight of you all wide-eyed and helpless is too much for even him to handle. “that’s it,” he groans, eyes locked on your face. “good girl. be my good fuckin’ girl—yeahhh, just like that.”

you clench around him so hard he gasps, his jaw flexing as he groans against your neck, his rhythm faltering for half a second—but then he grits his teeth, and keeps going, faster, like he’s chasing both your highs at once. his hand’s still over your mouth, but you’re whimpering beneath it, trying to tell him you’re close—so close. he knows. “i know, sweet girl. i feel it—fuck—i feel you.” he’s nearly growling now, his voice shaking, “you gonna cum for me? gonna cum on my cock like a good girl? hm?”

you nod frantically, eyes squeezed shut, tears pricking your lashes from how badly you need it. and rafe just whispers again, low and honey-sweet, while his thrusts speed up even more, “then be quiet for me, baby. cum all over me, please.”

his whine caused you to cum with a full-body shake, stars behind your eyes, and rafe watches every second of it—panting, cursing, praising you through clenched teeth like he’s never seen anything prettier. “atta girl. that’s it. that’s my fuckin’ girl.”

[s0lidar1ty]

Should be me and her

[s0lidar1ty]

Good godddddd 😩😩😩😩

Hi! Do you still do rafe smuts? How about he’s maybe smoking/doing lines with his friends and you are getting needy and he doesn’t give you attention and he’s treating you very mean and calling you clingy? He ends up fingering you in front of them. I just want to be his cokewhoreeee

warnings: icky!rafe, mean!rafe, dubcon (?), heavy drug use, teasing, rafe’s friends are gross, dirty talk, groping, slapping, finger sucking, degradation, dumbification, marking, biting, voyeurism (?), public sex, fingering, suggestive ending

“rafeeee!” you whined, tugging on his arm so he could look your way. topper and kelce merely glanced at you before their bloodshot eyes scanned down your bare legs, both of them exchanging a look before nodding in your direction as if to remind rafe you were sitting next to him. “watch out.” rafe warned, shrugging you off before going back to laughing with his pervy friends. you couldn’t understand why rafe was always so set on you attending parties with him if he was just going to ignore you the whole time.

huffing through your nose, you watched as rafe rubbed his gums with his finger, a groan rumbling from his chest as he savored the taste of blow on his tongue. “i’m eating this shit like it’s candy..” he shook his head, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch. with rafe’s arms propped up on the top of the sofa, you took the opportunity to curl up into his side, his warmth providing you with a few seconds of comfort before he nudged you away. “quit your shit. seriously.” he glared at you, sending a pout to take over your features.

kelce and topper looked at you like you were there purely for their amusement, their heavy stares burning hot against your skin. rafe always teased that his best friends had it really bad for you, both of them pleading with your boyfriend to let them make a move on you. rafe shut down their advances of course, but god did it make him feel cocky. draping your legs across rafe’s lap, you waited for him to push you off but his defenses never came. your dress was so short, you were sure anyone could catch a glimpse of what was underneath— more specifically what you didn’t have on.

trailing your foot over rafe’s clothed cock, he took a mean bong rip before you sat up, propping yourself on his thigh as you left a string of kisses up his neck. “mmm— what are you doing?” you moved your hips, a whimper tumbling out of your mouth as you moaned at the slight friction you felt against your needy cunt. “just want you to touch me..” you whispered in his ear, grabbing his hands and guiding them over to cup your tits through your dress. rafe swallowed thickly, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he gave in and squeezed the swells of your breasts.

“yeah? you just want some attention, huh?” he glanced over at his friends and smiled when he saw their hungry gazes trained on your backside. you nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips as he took you fully in his lap, turning you around so you could face kelce and topper. your cheeks heated once you made eye contact with them, a soft moan sounding from you as rafe forced your legs apart. “well you got it now.” he laughed, barely lifting up the hem of your dress so the guys could steal a peek of your pretty pussy.

“tell them they can’t have it.” you let out a shaky breath at his words, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt rafe cup you between your thighs. “y-you can’t have it..” you gasped when rafe delivered a soft slap to your cheek. “tell them they can look but they can’t touch.” he dipped his fingers between your folds as you repeated his words, your jaw falling slack as he gathered your slick and circled your clit. topper leaned back in his seat while kelce laughed incredulously. “how do you get them to be obedient like this, bro?” a smug grin took over rafe’s features as he wrapped his free hand around your neck.

“you’re not fucking them right.” at this, rafe started pressing harder circles into your sensitive bud, the action making you jolt. “if you fuck them stupid, they start acting like it,” he laughed, “look at this brainless slut, you think she has a single thought running through her head right now?” you were in hysterics when rafe finally stuffed your cunt with his fingers, his long digits slipping in with ease. kelce scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to hear your sweet cries. rafe tightened his grip on your throat before nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear.

you all but melted when he curled his fingers, hitting that soft, gummy spot inside of you that made your toes curl blissfully. “rafe..” you grabbed his wrist in a poor attempt to remove his hand but he just went faster, his thumb now rubbing your clit with the added strokes of his digits. suckling on your flesh, rafe didn’t pull away until you sobbed into his chest. “i’m— oh!” topper watched intently as you lost yourself in rafe’s lap, your legs trembling on either sides of his thighs as he sucked bruises into your skin. your thighs shut around his hand as you tears welled up in your eyes at the white hot pleasure coursing through your system.

you writhed in his strong hold until he brought you down from your high, your body still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. wiping away at the stray tears that rolled down your cheeks, rafe finally removed his hand from under your dress, bringing his soaked fingers to your lips so you could lick them clean. topper and kelce sat there in shock, both of them hard in their khaki’s. you didn’t care that a whole party was taking place in the same room, you had already tuned everything out a long time ago. you blinked, your vision hazy as you looked around.

if someone saw what just went down, they didn’t point it out, the party carrying on as if nothing happened. topper watched as rafe whispered something in your ear, in which you nodded frantically as a reply. without a word, rafe helped you up as he adjusted your dress before resting a hand in the small of your back. “we’re gonna head out,” rafe winked, “i got a proper ‘thank you’ waiting for me when we get home..” you giggled, waving rafe’s friends goodbye as if they didn’t just watch you cum around your boyfriend’s fingers. kelce and topper waited for you two to disappear in the crowd before sharing a look.

“i need his game card.”

[s0lidar1ty]

Deep, raw, and in front of a mirror.

i could never be famous. first chance i get, imma fuck drew starkey

[s0lidar1ty]

fyi i do not “crush” i experience violent, all-consuming devotion and yearning that leaves me physically ill

[s0lidar1ty]

The Beginning

pair: toxic!rafe cameron x fem!eader cw: Toxic relationships, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, angst, mentions of grief/loss, slight profanity.

Rafe had never been taken care of before. After his mother's death, he always fought for Ward’s attention. He tried being a good kid, showing up to school, doing his work, and cleaning up around the house, but the only thing Ward cared about was when something went wrong. That's when he finally paid attention. So, Rafe does the only thing he can and starts acting out. 

He stayed out later than he was supposed so, damn near flunked out of school but somehow managed to graduate, stopped taking care of things. He didn’t want to, but it got his dad's attention.

Deep down, Rafe is just a little boy in need of love. Of nurturing and comfort.

That’s where you came in.

You had been a family friend of the Camerons from when you and they were small. You practically lived with them. You came over every day and stayed till night, rinse and repeat. Eventually, you moved in. Your mother thought it best since she couldn’t afford to house you and deal with the expenses of a funeral. Ward was fine with it, he loved you like one of his own. 

After their mother's death, Rafe and Sarah closed themselves off from friends, Everyone gave up on them for a while, everyone but you. You knew what they were going through. You hated that you could relate, but that wouldn’t bring your father back, would it?

You insisted on being near them and helping them when they needed it but refused to ask. You were always there. Even as you three grew up and Sarah began to heal. Sarah started to do good. She helped around Figure 8, cared for the little animals and rodents the best she knew how. She found her happiness in nature. She was fine with that; she wasn’t angry or sad anymore. She was just. She was okay.

Rafe, on the other hand, went down the exact opposite path. He became selfish. He got mean, saying hurtful things to everybody, even his sister. You didn’t recognize the person you were seeing. What happened to the sweet boy in 5th grade who stood up to bullies? When did he become one himself? 

Sarah stayed out more and more just to avoid Rafe and his outbursts. But now, with her gone, all his anger is directed at you.

You’re in the kitchen prepping dinner. You and Rafe, despite being estranged, had a lot in common. Steak bites with mash potatoes being one of them. The last time you recall him eating it was a couple of weeks before his mother's passing. 

Was this too much?

I mean, it’s his childhood favorite food—what if you made it wrong or he didn’t like it because it wasn’t like his mom's? 

You push down your overwhelming thoughts and continue, cleaning the steaks and cutting them into cubes. You move to the stove, turning it on and buttering the skillet. You hear the front door open and assume it’s Sarah coming to get more clothes before heading out again.

“Hey, Sare!” You call from the kitchen. You don’t get a response, which you find odd but shrug off, going back to the steak to season it.

“Why’re you still here?” The sound of Rafe’s voice makes you jump. You turn around, chucking off the scare.

“I wanted to make dinner-”

“So you’re a nanny now?” He interrupts.

You make a confused face. “How does cooking make me a nanny?”

“Because you’re acting like we need you to cook for us. You’re always here, always pestering somebody—why can’t you be more like Sarah and leave once in a while?” he says harshly. “I mean, fuck,” he chuckles, “We don’t even want you here anymore.”

Your smile drops. “Right,” you say simply. You turn to the stove once again, your back facing him as your eyes fill with frustrating tears.

Rafe stares at you for a minute. Usually, talking down on people made him feel better, so why was his heart hurting the way it was?

He walks away.

[s0lidar1ty]

Binged this entire series in the span of like 20 minutes, I’m obsessedddd

LOST AND FOUND — rafe cameron, 10

pairing . . . rafe cameron x routledge!reader in which . . . rafe cameron was a peculiar human being. he's grotesque, a kook, rude, but above all, he's your best friend, or at least he was. abruptly and without warning, he pushed you away, you'd love to understand why, since you were seventeen. but after many dead ends, you came to accept that maybe rafe didn't belong in your life, that he was just a thorn in your shoe and that he was just like all the kooks. or was he? ch warning .ᐟ . . . curse words

masterlist .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 navigation .ᐟ

LOST AND FOUND. — 09 . 10 . 11

kissylec says . . . pretty sure tomorrow im not gonna post so here's ch 10, a little later i'll post ch 11, love u all

taglist . . . @drewstarkeyslover @ihydeja @imtalkinnonsense @rafes4 @luvrclub @jamesbeaufortismylife @hannieskzzz @freshsturniolo346 @yktayy9669 @yestardaysproblemm @angelicameron @malibuhearts @wtfisastiles @frankoceanluvr11 @popou61 @mrsdrewstarkeyy @drewsphswife @inthelibrarybtw @amterasuu @dreamybabbyy @rafesdrew @congratsloserr @vampiriito @angvl3tears @drewrry @drewsswifeyy @ltristessedureratoujours @yncoded @matildalittlefreak @icaqttt @sarakpalsd @wintercrows @mysticbby2009 @stoned-writer @vanessa-rafesgirl @princesspeaxhh @countryclubwhore @leclerc16s @africancracker @rafeysbabydoll @angeldiaryy @letstryagaintomorrow @lolasangelz @cokewithcameron @hannaa20002000 @beebuv @nerd4yous @mariamadison6-blog @aawdrea @jjasmiineee @moonywhisp3rs @baocean @shortnrafes

© KISSYLEC. 2025 — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

[s0lidar1ty]

No honestly

[s0lidar1ty]

HES SOOOOOOO 😫😫😫😫

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU HAIM 🙂‍↔️

had to go chew some dry wall after this omfg

[s0lidar1ty]

DID YALL WATCH THE MUSIC VIDEO WITH DREW IN IT ???? GODDDD 😩😩😩😩😩😩