#try to give them two chapters
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Okay just a few things to adjust on my essay. Maybe try to add in a few more words since I'm a wee short on my word count.....but it's due today and I go into work in a few hours so not a lot of time to play unfortunately.
#but at the moment#im off tomorrow#with no obligations#other than maybe cleaning this house#but even then#thats not that bad#i may go into work for a few hours#but we shall see#but maybe ill treat my william boldwood readers#try to give them two chapters#you know get crazy 😂
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WAIT SIGMA WAS ONLY A PAGE IN ATSUSHI'S STORY
BECAUSE ATSUSHI IS A BOOKMARK AND THE BOOKMARK MOVES AS THE STORY GOES ON
BUT SIGMA WAS BORN FROM A PAGE, AND ONCE THE BOOKMARK PASSES A PAGE IT DOESN'T GO BACK
THEY MET ONCE FOR A SINGLE CHAPTER, A BRIEF IMPORTANT INTERACTION, AND THEN DIDN'T SEE EACHOTHER AGAIN (FOR NEARLY FIVE YEARS IN OUR TIME NOW). ATSUSHI CONTINUED WITH THE STORY BUT SIGMA STAYED WHERE HE WAS (DEALING WITH DOA AND FYODOR BALONY)
SIGMATSU ANGST SYMBOLISM?? IN MY BUNGOU STRAY DOGS??!!??
#ASAGIRI I'M LOSING MY MIND PULLING THINGS HERE WHAT IS THE CONNECTION BETWEEN THESE TWO#WHY DO YOU KEEP GIVING THEM PARALLELS AND CONNECTIONS WHAT DOES IT MEAN#!!!!😭😭😭#bsd chapter 119#bsd 119#bsd spoilers#Sigmatsu#still frothing at the mouth over Sigmatsu a day after reading the chapter#sigma#Atsushi#this is less a theory more me trying SO hard to figure out what Atsushi being the bookmark means for everything about the book#bungobble my post
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(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
#I've had the cutest interaction today#So like yesterday? There was this post I saw on my dash that was like “you want to know extra info about museums? Just befriend a–#guide! That way you can also unlock the Secret Backscene” and I was like. Lmao. Who could ever befriend a museum guide I've never–#even personally met anyone who works at museums?#... Well. Guess what happened today#I was following this guided museum tour with a friend and when the tour came to an end I was happily chatting with her when the guide.#Shyly chimed in and was like “is that an Atsushi keychain?” And I was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#And I was like‚‚ omg‚‚��� Do you happen to know‚‚‚ This one series‚‚‚‚‚‚#And they unsheathed their phone like a fbi distinctive in American movies to show me their fyo/zai background amjdsgawsjda it was SO cute.#They were adorable. And I got so embarassed but trying to keep my cool while internally I was like‚‚‚#Omg the Cool Museum Guide™ is talking with me about my hyperfixation‚‚‚‚‚‚ What is happening#We talked a bit about the manga it was such a nice and sweet exchange. They said they like Dostoyevsky and I was like yeah he's so cool!!!#They said they're sorry about Bram it was REALLY cute (´;ω;`)#I didn't want to hamper them too much so I took my leave shortly after but I'd actually really like to pay visit again–#when the new chapter is out??#Hhhhhhh I don't want to look stalkery and like go look for them on their job. But also like‚ they looked genuinely happy and as excited as–#I was when we were chatting and I believe in the power of human connections through shared hyperfixations#The possibly funnier part is that then my friend went “Wait you're into b/ungo stray dogs??” and like alright. This is less surprising.#I already knew she likes manga.#What actually left me quite baffled was that... She really didn't know I was into b/sd. When it's literally what I think about 24/7#Something very similar happened just a week ago. My friend gifted me a manga volume of a series she really likes for my birthday#But when she was giving it to me she awkwardly went “oh‚ just‚ it features romance between two guys. I hope that's okay with you...”#And I internally had to pause and realize that no.#In fact most of the people I hang out with don't know I spend half my time curating a bl focused blog.#It's just funny in a way? I got so used to concealing my hyperfixations I didn't even realize I actually got quite good at passing–#for someone who is normal about stuff.#random rambles
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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
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LOVE IS SAND ITS SAND ITS ALL BEEN SAND LOVE IS FUCKING SAND

Anyone remember this? From chapter 42?
This was following his conversation with Chris the day he started going out with Mitsumi. He can’t get a grasp on his feelings.
Love is.. slipping away.. out of reach.. not seen often (he’s only been to the beach once b4). We know that Shima has struggled to have his feelings acknowledged growing up, and this metaphor encapsulates it well.
Then we have chapter 53

Mika walks up to Shima (who she has previously confessed to and since moved on), with a half complaint of ‘its actually kind of hard isn’t it? To walk on the sand’
To tread your feelings is hard. It’s hard work.. to love… to be loved.
But it’s not really a lament, it’s more of an affirmation. All their friends wanted to walk along that beach- together. And it’s ultimately worth it, even if it isn’t as easy as expected.

Then in comes Mitsumi… she doesn’t know the context of their conversation but she hears them query about something in the sand, that they don’t recognise.
She says there is life here. We can find it if we dig. It would’ve been nice to try sooner.
She’s so accustomed to love, she grew up with it from all her family and friends, and here she is showing her friends its got so much there if only you look, if only you have a hand. I can help.

Then Shima asks her to show him that life that’s there.
Love. Is. Sand.
#stl spoilers#skip to loafer#WHAT A FUCKING CHAPTER HELLO#im aggressively rereading as we speak but these two panels popped out to me the most#this isn’t romantic exclusive love btw but i was using mika’s specifically to make the point#also the point Mitsumi makes abt ‘it would’ve been nice if we tried catching them sooner’ like…#like it would’ve been nice for shima to catch those feelings earlier WHEN THEY WERE DATING#but she’s not even sad- she still gives it a try#idk this isn’t rlly coherent but all i can think of rn is love is stored in the sand#skip and loafer#it’s like 2am now i need to sleep smh
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Yes, yes. Dazai's dead. Sigma's dead. Mersault kids are losing badly. Atsushi's dead. But look at Aya!! Let's pay attention to Aya Koda who is putting her entire mind and soul to stop the vampire infection single-handedly! This child who was told to be perfect and to conform and to be older than she actually is! She's going "fine. I'll do all that but not in the way you want me to" and I have no idea if I interpreted the raws correctly.
But I'm so proud of her! You go girl!
#i didnt know i had a particular love for aya until yesterday btw#but i do now for sure#anyway in me are two voices#one is saying that the authors should take as long as they need to provide the stellar art and story they are trying to give...#...under these strenuous conditions. and to be thankful for even a fourth of a chapter because artists need to take their time#the other voice is shaking asagiri and harukawa and telling them to stop it with the cliffhangers already aughiejrosierjwer???#bsd#bsd manga spoilers#bsd spoilers#spitting nonsense#bsd musings#bsd aya
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it’s october chat which means.. it’s officially kazuha month (ˊᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꇴ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ˋ)
in celebration of that, all of my upcoming works ( apart from an event i’m partaking in ) will purely be zuha-centric ! let the festivities begin www

#ノ𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝜗𝜚#while i can’t give an accurate guess as to how many/often these uploads will be i’m still going to be trying my very best ..#to try and upload a good handful of them throughout the month up until his official birthday!#most of them will likely be small random drabbles i come up with on the fly or that have been rotting in the back of my mind for a while..#two major works that i know will for sure be uploaded will be the second chapter of the ‘made with love’ series and a rewrite of an..#old zuha oneshot of mine ( hint: botanist! reader x prince! kazuha )#fingers crossed it all turns out well and that i can actually manage to get myself to sit down and write these >_<
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please, I’m begging you, just give me clear and thorough instructions. please
#Oh my god I swear one of the hardest parts of being autistic is that I need crystal clear instructions for everything and no one will#give them to me. ever#I’m trying to get the first pages of my manuscript formatted for querying agents and literally everyone has different ideas#about how things should be formatted and they all contradict each other#but of course none of those resources actually come from agents so I have no idea what they really want#I’ve been working on this for like two hours and it’s so frustrating#Especially because a ton of the formatting dictates how much of my writing they actually read#Include a title page and page breaks between chapters? Now I’m losing like three pages of content that I would like them to read#But if I need those things and leave them off I look unprofessional and it’s easy grounds to just reject the query without looking farther#And I just don’t know what to do#I think I need to take a break#Which I guess is why I’m yelling in the void here#writing#writer problems#querying#vent post
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banging my head against the wall
#“his salvation. goddamned salvation.”#this chapter RUINED me#currently still deciding if i want to post a tl or not#lee hakhyun trying to act as his past life's kim dokja for her#han soyoung just. saying sorry. she had apologized before. but she doesn't remember#these two aren't the same people anymore. she isn't the person that should apologize. he isn't the person that can accept that apology.#and. han sooyoung burning her stories to keep them warm...#yeah sure we got callbacks to all those doksoo moments. but does it really have to be due to han sooyoung BURNING her memories away#dear god give them some rest please. please please ple#orv spoilers#orv side story#side story spoilers#side story lb
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ultimately while welcome back home master and the christmas story are both really really good saiko stories as far as psi battle is concerned i think they very much do draw a LOT from canon content so its mostly just nice to read cuz it feels like the people who wrote it Get It. theyve done their research. its nothing groundbreaking but it makes sense and they went as far as they could considering the kind of character saiko is and the kind of work saipsi is.
now if were talking about uniquely groundbreaking stuff. PLEAAAASEEEEE read the summer story where he builds a sandcastle w nendou and kaidou its jaw droppingly wholesome (because its so surprising). AND the pet contest story where hes curious about warp and kuniharu encourages him to pet it. it changed my life
#what i mean w the first two is that like#ultimately in the christmas story hes trying to impress everyone in a similar way to his house visit chapters#n his dynamic with nendou is the usual stuff weve already seen#same w WBHM like what aren tells him is essentially just what takahashi yokota and murata said about liking saiko#but being upset that he always tries to give them money#so its not like youre seeing a brand new side of any of the characters but its still incredibly fun to read#and very satisfying!#saipsi#saiko metori
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The way I'm still not finished with writing the first two ideas I had in mind for this ship, I'm suddenly getting two more. 🙈🙊 Could somebody please arrange it so that I'd have all the time in the world to write it all? Because 24hrs a day is simply not enough.
#personal#for the record: i am STILL writing the first idea i got#the slow-burn just got way out of hand and i can't seem to stop this train kdjfkjkgkgk#i might actually send the first chapter soon once i'm done editing it#to the poor person/people who volunteered to check it/them for me#if they still want to give it a try lol#because i've written a lot and there's still more to come. 82 pages on google docs and counting#so it's already becoming a small novella#and i'm a little bit scared. not just for myself but for the other people involved as well#for now i've put the second idea on hold but i will continue writing it sooner or later#because i know how what to do with it. how to continue it and how to end it#but then this bitch is suddenly getting two new AUs in mind#they started jumping up and down in my brain like 'hey i think you'll like me; so why don't you write me ASAP'#and i'm like HOW. WHEN#like there's literally just 24hrs a day and there's other stuff i'm supposed to be doing too#i'm supposed to focus on my schoolwork and this is all i can think about and it's killing me for real jfkjf#priorities i has them#but muses have been kind to me and i kind of needed something like this#after feeling like shit for a long time recently#i just wish i had more TIME#anyway
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Just wanted to let everybody know: ancient ties has tools now
want to comprehend this post? tags. Why did I write it all in tags
#What is ancient ties? WELL FINALLY#See uhhh ancient ties is my main warrior cats oc universe. With fanclans entirely populated with full lineups#And stories planned out through two arcs.#The first arc consists of two comics and a short epilogue converging the two and setting up arc 2#Well. It SHOULD. It doesn’t YET but it WILL I’m. Working on things#We originally got 2 chapters out I believe but. An artist left the team and that would significantly change the style#Because I let them sketch and line after my paper boards! So I’m gonna just. Remake the whole thing from my boards#My book of eligible scripts#I can read them and I’m the only one that needs tooooo#Then the second arc is just one gigantic comic plan. Oof#Prequel also possible. If I let myself think too much there WILL be a third arc so.#Gotta try and focus my brain so I can just get one thing done. Just one comic would be good.#The first planned one is Twisted Bonds (the subtitle. It’s under ancient ties still) and it shooouldnt be too more than ten chapters#I THINK. Which is like 30-70 pages each give or take. Avg 50#POSSIBLE. Very possible for a creature that only works weekends and fridays#I need a passion and I will make it. I demand you all begin to get invested in my universe I promise I’ll make stuff#I’m doing concept art for real I prommy#warriors#warrior cats#shameless advertising#for a series that doesn’t exist nonetheless! But it will so get excited and stay tuned please. I want to share them so much#warrior cats oc#warrior cats fanclan#wc fanclan#upcoming#upcoming comic#OH YEAH I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THE FUCKING POST. Uhhh#Yeah there’s tools now! Each clan gets unique ones. I’m gonna give them unique jewelry and some jobs too I think#Have some more fun. Less close to canon more silly and individually unique#Like. For example cavernclan (where tb takes place) is allowed gemstone names and. Probably gemstone stuff
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.
#people keep commenting on my fics begging for updates but i’m gonna be real y’all: i have nawt been feeling it lately#i’m still gonna finish them ofc ofc but i’ve not been in the mood to write and i’ve barely been paying attention to#much in the hilb verse / larrie nation as of late#my interest is spread across a few different things rn + work has been really hard lately#plus life in general. and there are so many awful things happening in the world#the consistent apartheid in palestine. the coltan mining disasters in congo. the horrors in sudan.#i just don’t feel in the right state to be spending my limited spare time on fanfic + on a hobby i’m not feeling very connected to at the#current time#i appreciate the support and desire to read more of my work ofc#but just as always on top of what i said above#comments strictly begging for updates make me#feel adverse to updating? like they don’t motivate me at all to work. they just stress me out#so i apologize but that also hasn’t been helping#the most i’ve been able to do the last month and a half is half heartedly edit chapter two of SMYL#it’s almost entirely smut and that’ssss also a struggle for me to write when there’s a lot of it#(and yet i have lengthy detailed smut in everything i write oops)#i will try though i hate having so much on the backburner. i just wanted to give a general update on things#alex talks
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Literally never understood any of the ships in jjk akajkaa
#I don’t feel anything for most of the popular ones and even shit like gojo and shoko now like I guess in the latest chapter she was like I#fell for one of you (probably talking about gojo who knows??? which felt out of nowhere and random as hell) like gege is really giving jjk#the csm pacing even tho the diff between the two is that csm is extremely consistent and still makes sense and manages to pull you in even#with how fast paced it is#fujimoto gives you bits and pieces of information while not dwelling on it too much while still managing to get whatever point he was trying#to make across#idk why gege is trying to do the same damn there but erm… it isn’t working at all and is actually ruining the quality of the story all#together and I hate it sm because the story started to fall down right as soon as the culling game/Coloney arcs started like there were high#points but not many of them 😭… and the fact that he’s rushing the shit out of the story now just to say that he’s finished makes me sad lol#like idk if he’s sick again??? or??? is it the editors? jump forcing him to continue on working despite the quality dropping like this??? I#hate capitalism…. I hate the churning out of doo doo just to make a profit to to say that you’re through like#if gege don’t take another hiatus and put that pen down and get some rest because this is not it 😭#sorry… I was just talking about how ships in jjk don’t make any sense and then I started talking about how shit the stories become sorry#rambling#wait#the only ship I ever liked in the entire manga is gonami now that is something else but everything else 😭#I don’t think there’s a lot of content for gonami but oh well
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old art again!! this time a rough animation of sawyer and yarnaby 😎 (looks better if u click to view 😭)
im working on a short ppt animation rn. im thinking i should post it to my youtube channel, though im not sure if people here would see it. i think i can link videos on here?? idk
okay I'm gonna talk abt more chapter 4 stuff.. this time about prototype's previous identity.. ch4 spoilers and also a theory below..
hiding the solo yarnaby under here LOL
people theorized 1006 was elliot, which was recently disproven in the chapter 4 tape where poppy refers to elliot as her dad and wishes he were there. in the same tape she addresses prototype as a completely different person. also recall that elliot died in the 90s, meanwhile prototype met theo in 1989. so yeah, they aren't the same person
I've also seen people say rich is prototype, which cannot be true either. in a ch4 tape he speaks to one of the employees under his supervision. the kid mentions his coworkers joking about him going missing. before the bbi, it would not make sense for this to be a common rumor at the company, which means this tape had to happen after harley was hired in 1990; at a time when the company would have a reason to silence people
prototype existed in 1989 at the minimum, but considering he says "it's always been about you and me" to poppy, he's likely the prototype of HER. she's elliots daughter, she died in the 60s, meaning prototype was probably created around that time as well.
this means that rich can't be the prototype because he was human long after prototype was made
if you want my take on who prototype truly is, i'd say his identity doesn't necessarily matter. i don't mean to say his origins aren't important, just that his name and specific role in the past probably doesn't mean anything in the long run. i've never believed he was elliot or rich, and maybe in the future i'll be proven wrong but for now i'll tell you the theory i've had since june of last year
elliot's daughter dies in the 60s. he divorced his wife in 1930, so his daughter is probably in her 30s when she dies. she gets sick or injured, maybe she's actively dying or already dead by the time elliot begins his research. he looks for ways to bring her back, but it doesn't work on the rats (as he mentioned a note in the 2nd chapter)
so what does he do? he tries it on something bigger as he said he would: a human. of course he's not going to try this experimental method on his own daughter, even if she's already dead, so he finds someone else to use it on. we know that elliot wasn't evil or anything, so it's unlikely he killed anybody to use for the experiment. considering the orphanage isn't open yet (it opened in the 70s, not the 60s), prototype probably wasn't an orphan child either. if i run with my simple version of the theory, elliot may have dug up a body in a graveyard and used that. maybe a fresh one, who knows. he tried it, it worked, then he revived his daughter with the same method.
this is likely what harley wanted to know about in the chapter 3 tape (the "i learn something new about you every day" one), and also what prototype is asking harley to figure out in the ch4 tape they're both in. in that case, sawyer never actually figured out how to revive people with the poppy substance. sure, he can transfer people into the toys, but he can't bring anybody back to life
more reason to believe prototype and poppy are of the same "batch" is because it seems they are the only two who don't need food. it's outright stated about him in the ch1 trailer, and insinuated with her saying the "toys will starve otherwise" when she's talking about how nasty them eating humans is. she refers to them, not herself. her and prototype are probably the only 2 who were ever brought back from the dead, which circles back around to his monologue and gives meaning to the "it's always been about you and me, poppy. what we are". when i heard him say that i felt like my theory was lowk confirmed 😭😭
no guarantee this is right, but it's been my guess for a long time
#illustration#artwork#poppy playtime#poppy playtime fanart#digital art#fanart#doodle#yarnaby#chapter 4#safe haven#poppy playtime chapter 2#yarnaby art#harley sawyer#the doctor#animation#gif#clip studio paint#sketch#my art#my artwork#2d animation#animated#animated gif#fan design#ppt 4#poppy playtime chapter 4#fan theory#theory#ramble#rant
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𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆ rafe cameron
playing: 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚。˚ ⋆

synopsis! a kickback on the beach involving both kooks and pogues turns ugly after rafe sees jj maybank talking sweetly in your ear..
paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
warnings: friends? with benefits , angst , mentions of underage drinking , violence (fist fighting) , toxic!rafe , sexual content + rough unprotected car sex! , choking , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)
word count: 6.7k
notes: thinking about making this into a series but it just depends on how we all like it so lmk!
chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆
chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆
“you’re a fucking idiot,” kie says through a burst of laughter, watching jj attempt to shotgun two beers at once. instead of drinking, most of the beer spills straight onto the sand, leaving him grinning like it was all part of the plan.
a soft giggle slips past your lips as jj smashes the crushed cans together dramatically, then thumps his chest like he just pulled off something incredible—even though he couldn’t have failed more miserably.
you shake your head, pointing at the two crushed cans lying in the sand. “don’t give him any more if he’s gonna pull shit like that!” you say, half-serious, half-amused.
jj’s grin fades into a mock frown, his brows furrowing as he throws his hands up dramatically. “what? i was just getting started!” he protests, though the beer-soaked sand beneath him says otherwise.
you roll your eyes, ready to fire back at jj, when the vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you. the name on the screen makes your stomach flip, and you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting to keep a smile from slipping out where your friends could see.
kook devil: wya?
you: beach kickback on the cut
kook devil: omw
this time, the smile wins. you glance down at the screen, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite yourself. it wasn’t the first time rafe cameron had texted you late at night, asking where you were. but no one else knew that. and you weren’t about to admit it to anyone—especially not to your friends.
friends who hated kooks with a passion. and everything, and everyone, that came with them.
“what are you smiling at?” sarah asks, her voice light but laced with curiosity, as she and john b stroll over, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. her amused grin only makes you more nervous.
you lock your phone instantly, still smiling but scrambling for an excuse. “my package just got delivered,” you say quickly, trying to sound nonchalant.
sarah hums in response, the suspicion in her tone subtle but enough to make your stomach tighten. you don’t notice, too busy avoiding eye contact and silently thanking the chaos that erupts when jj and pope start arguing about something ridiculous, as usual.
you knew what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, especially to sarah. if she ever found out you and rafe were hooking up behind everyone’s backs, she’d lose it. they all would. and not just because he’s a kook.
it’s because he’s rafe fucking cameron.
it was kind of a blur how it all started with rafe. you remember being at a party—not sure if it was here on the beach or in figure 8—but of course, he was there, lingering in the crowd. all night, his eyes kept finding yours, holding your gaze just a little too long.
a couple of tequila shots later, you found yourself in his truck, attempting to ride him as he fucked you senseless, leaving you a trembling mess of moans and breathless curses.
ever since that night, you’d fallen into a rhythm—friends with benefits, if you could even call it that. except you weren’t friends. not even close.
you and rafe both knew the deal—just sex, no strings attached. it was made clear the second time you hooked up. after somehow getting your number, rafe texted you at 1 a.m. asking to meet. if it had been anyone else, you would’ve said no without a second thought. but rafe cameron always gets what he wants.
afterward, it was rafe who spelled it out: just sex, nothing more. and you agreed, even though the words stung more than you cared to admit. you told yourself you were fine with it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if you played along long enough, he’d change his mind.
except he hasn’t.
and what really reeled you in was just the other day, you spotted him on the golf course with stacy thornton, topper’s cousin of all people. and of course he knew you’d see him—you work the country club as a bev girl. how could you not?
still, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pretending not to care even as your chest tightened. you quietly asked a coworker to handle his table, murmuring something about being swamped, and then buried yourself in busywork to avoid the sting of watching him laugh with her.
since that day, he hasn’t called or texted. not a word. until tonight.
because surely, stacy was busy.
“yo, y/n! come shotgun a beer with us!” kie and sarah call out, snapping you out of your thoughts. you force a small smile, pushing everything about rafe to the back of your mind as you stand up from the driftwood branch you’d been perched on. joining your girls, you grab a beer and do your best to play along.
as the night rolls on, the beach fills up with more people—kooks, pogues, and everyone in between. the music gets louder, and the air becomes a chaotic mix of laughter, shouting, and waves crashing in the background. drunk teenagers stagger through the sand, passing bottles and shots around, but so far, there haven’t been any issues. yet.
but you know how these nights go. when kooks and pogues show up to the same party, trouble is inevitable. it’s only a matter of time before someone says or does something to spark it. like clockwork.
bright headlights pierce through the darkness, momentarily blinding you as a familiar truck pulls onto the beach. your stomach tightens at the sight, but you force yourself to stay calm, laughing along with your friends as if you hadn’t noticed. even as the kooks around you start murmuring and shouting, announcing rafe’s arrival, you keep your eyes anywhere but on him.
your gaze flicks to sarah, catching the way her jaw tightens when she sees her older brother greeting her old friends with effortless charm. the tension is palpable. it’s no secret that sarah and rafe are far from good terms, and the thought of what she’d do if she ever found out about you and him is enough to make your chest ache. she’d hate you—no question about it.
and you didn’t want that. not now, not ever. so tonight, with enough liquid courage coursing through your veins, you’d finally do it. you’d end whatever this thing was with rafe. it was time. it had to be.
“hey, sweetheart,” jj slurs, suddenly draping an arm over your shoulders, his familiar, lopsided grin plastered across his face. the smell of alcohol lingers on his breath, and you can’t help but laugh. drunk jj was always clingy and affectionate, a far cry from his usual chaotic self.
“how are you? you good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, his blue eyes lazily scanning your face for any hint of something wrong.
you nod, patting his knee where it rests against yours. “i’m fine, jay. what about you? having fun?”
he grins wider, squeezing your shoulder as if to reassure you. “always. especially now that you’re here.” his words are lighthearted, but his presence, warm and grounding, makes the knot in your stomach ease just a little.
“don’t start something you can’t finish, maybank,” you tease, your tone playful, something that’s always been a part of your dynamic with jj. it was harmless, never anything more than friendly banter. jj was like a brother to you, and you both knew it.
his smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “oh, i always finish what i start,” he shoots back, his voice dripping with mock confidence. the comment makes heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself, and you nudge his side with a laugh.
“relax, jj,” you say, still grinning, but he just laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your reaction.
then his tone drops, more conspiratorial now, as he leans in closer. “can i tell you a secret?” he slurs, his voice low and exaggeratedly serious.
you play along, tilting your head toward him as he cups a hand over his mouth like he’s sharing classified information. “i’m so drunk right now,” he whispers dramatically.
a laugh bursts out of you, louder than you intended, as you push him off of you. “no shit, jay,” you say through your giggles, watching him sway slightly before laughing along with you. moments like these made everything feel lighter, even with the weight of everything else hanging in the air.
suddenly, the laughter dies in your throat as a familiar voice cuts through the noise, instantly tightening the tension in your shoulders. “i wanna laugh too,” rafe drawls, his tone sharp and laced with something dangerous.
your head snaps up, and sure enough, there he is, standing a few feet away with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. but his stare is locked on you, unwavering, intense. your stomach churns as you quickly look away, pretending not to notice.
“what are you doing here, rafe?” sarah asks, her voice cold as ice, glaring at her brother like she wanted him gone before he could stir up trouble.
he shrugs nonchalantly, though the slight clench in his jaw betrays his calm demeanor. “well, last time i checked, you don’t own the beach, sarah,” he retorts, his tone sharp enough to cut. the sunset casts a fiery glow on his face, highlighting the tension in his features. he’s angry—at what, you don’t know, but it’s obvious.
sarah opens her mouth to snap back, but before she can, jj suddenly stands to his feet, his drunken bravado kicking in full force. “what’s your problem, man?” he slurs, his voice rising as he steps forward, shoulders squared like he’s ready to fight.
your heart pounds in your chest as the energy shifts sharply, the tension coiling tighter with every second. it’s like the whole beach can feel it, the calm before the inevitable storm. you glance around nervously, noticing the kooks starting to make their way over, drawn by the brewing conflict like moths to a flame.
what had been your comfortable little corner with your friends now feels suffocating as more and more people gather, the divide between kooks and pogues growing thicker with every step they take. rafe doesn’t move, his stance unbothered but his eyes flickering with something unreadable as they dart between jj and you.
you can hear your friends muttering behind you, tension spreading like wildfire. this wasn’t going to end well—you could feel it in your bones.
john b, ever the peacekeeper, steps in with a steady hand on jj’s shoulder, giving it a calming squeeze. “hey, bro, take a walk,” he says softly, his tone measured, trying to de-escalate before things spiral further.
but jj shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “nah, nah, nah,” he says, shrugging john b’s hand off. his voice is louder now, sharp and angry, fueled by alcohol and pent-up resentment. “i’m so tired of these fuck-ass kooks ruining our fun. everything was fine before they got here.”
he turns to rafe, his eyes blazing with defiance. “so answer the damn question, rafe. what the fuck is your problem?”
the words hang in the air, cutting through the murmur of onlookers as more kooks and pogues close in around you, their postures rigid and ready for whatever’s about to unfold. the tension is suffocating, thick enough to choke on. your stomach twists as you glance between jj, who’s practically vibrating with anger, and rafe, whose jaw is locked, his eyes dark and unreadable.
rafe suddenly lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. he swipes a finger under his nose, his signature tell that trouble is coming. before anyone can react, he steps forward and throws a punch, his fist connecting squarely with jj’s jaw.
the sound of the hit echoes over the beach, silencing the chatter and gasps from the growing crowd. jj stumbles back, catching himself before falling, his hand flying up to his face as he spits blood into the sand.
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” john b mutters, stepping between them instinctively, trying to keep jj from lunging forward. but jj’s already shaking with rage, shoving john b aside as the crowd erupts around you.
the once calm beach party turns chaotic, the tension finally snapping into chaos, and you’re frozen in the middle of it all, unsure of what to do as your heart pounds in your chest.
mayhem erupts around you as everyone starts shouting, the noise almost deafening. jj and rafe are swinging at each other, fists flying with raw anger. john b and topper try to break it up, but their own simmering tensions (sarah cameron) boil over, and soon enough, they’re throwing punches at each other too.
“alright! alright!” you, sarah, and kie yell, your voices cutting through the chaos as you rush in, desperately trying to pull the four boys apart. it’s a mess of flailing arms, insults, and drunken fury, but with the help of the other pogues and even a few kooks who seem equally tired of the drama, you finally manage to separate them.
jj stands a few feet away now, chest heaving as he wipes blood from his lip, glaring daggers at rafe. rafe, meanwhile, is being restrained by two kooks, his jaw tight and his eyes locked on jj like he’s ready to go again at any second. john b and topper aren’t much better, breathing heavily and throwing venomous insults back and forth as they’re held apart.
you step back, your heart still racing as the crowd buzzes with murmurs and tension, the air thick and electric. this was far from over, and you could feel it.
“yeah, stay the fuck off our side of the island!” jj yells, his voice sharp and unwavering as the kooks start retreating. rafe lingers, of course, making direct eye contact with you. his gaze burns, but you glare right back, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. whatever you needed to say to him was definitely happening tonight after the shit he just pulled.
“take jj to the chateau. i think there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” john b instructs kie and pope, his tone calm but firm. they nod, each grabbing one of jj’s arms to help guide him away. jj, still riled up, mutters under his breath about how much of a pussy rafe is, his words slurring slightly from the drinks and adrenaline.
sarah walks over to you, concern etched across her face. “hey, you okay?” she asks gently. her voice is soft, but the sincerity in her eyes almost undoes you. you nod quickly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over.
“yeah, i’m fine. just anxious,” you respond, your voice steady enough to sound convincing. it’s not entirely a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth. sarah offers you a small, understanding smile, her hand rubbing your arm soothingly.
“coming?” she asks, gesturing toward john b, who’s waiting for her a few feet away.
“i think i’m just gonna head home,” you say, your voice a little rushed. “my mom texted—she got off work early, so…” you let the excuse hang in the air, hoping it’s enough.
sarah nods slowly, her eyes flickering with a mix of understanding and suspicion. “john b and i can walk you,” she offers.
“no, it’s okay. i kinda need a moment,” you reply quickly, your voice firmer this time. you hold your breath as her gaze lingers on you, studying you for a beat too long. but thankfully, she doesn’t press it.
“okay, babe,” she says finally, her concern softening into a warm smile. “let me know when you get home, yeah?”
you nod, watching as she walks back toward john b, the two of them eventually disappearing into the growing shadows. only when they’re far enough away do you exhale, the weight of the night pressing heavy on your chest.
with one last glance at the party starting to settle back down, you turn and walk in the opposite direction, knowing exactly where you’re going—and who you’re going to face.
you make your way over to the truck, its headlights dim now but still parked exactly where he left it. crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the back door of the truck, waiting. it’s quiet here, tucked away from the rest of the beach where no one can see you.
the sound of approaching footsteps pulls your attention, and there he is. rafe cameron, calm and collected as ever, despite the chaos he caused. he’s holding a red solo cup against his cheekbone, the faintest shadow of a bruise forming. but even so, you have to admit—he doesn’t look nearly as bad as jj does. of course he doesn’t.
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. the tension between you is thicker than ever, the air heavy with unspoken words. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you came here to do.
“i can’t see you anymore, rafe,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is firm, but you can feel the ache behind the words, threatening to betray you.
rafe doesn’t move. instead, a small, almost smug smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “get in the truck,” he says, his tone low and even, like it’s not up for debate.
your brows knit together, your frustration bubbling up. did he not hear you? or worse, did he just not care? “no, rafe,” you snap, shaking your head. “what you did today—” you pause, letting out a sharp sigh as the memories replay in your mind. your gaze shifts over his shoulder to the road, watching cars pass by, their headlights a welcome distraction. “you hurt my friends,” you continue, your voice quieter now but still steady. “i care a lot about my friends. and that shit you pulled back there?” you point toward the spot on the beach where the chaos unfolded, the tension still lingering in the air. “wasn’t cool.”
rafe follows your gesture with a glance, his expression unreadable. but when his eyes flick back to you, there’s something in them—something dangerous, something unshaken. he doesn’t respond, just waits, like he knows you’re not finished yet.
“why would you do that?” your voice cracks despite your best effort to keep it steady. the words hang heavy in the air, and you curse softly under your breath, furious with yourself for letting your emotions bubble over. you promised you wouldn’t let him see you like this—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. but now, the tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.
rafe’s face doesn’t change, his jaw tight but his expression otherwise calm, almost detached. it’s like he’s weighing his words, deciding what to say—or if he’ll even bother answering at all. the silence feels suffocating, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on your chest.
“are you fucking him?” rafe finally speaks, his voice low and steady, but the accusation behind the words hits you like a slap. you stare at him, wide-eyed, like he’s just grown three heads.
a laugh of disbelief escapes you as you shake your head, running a hand through your hair to keep yourself from losing it. “are you serious right now?” you ask, your voice teetering between anger and shock.
“are you?” he presses, his tone sharper this time, his eyes locked on yours, unrelenting.
“oh my god,” you mutter, another laugh bubbling out, this one laced with frustration. “is that why you did that? you think i’ve been fucking one of my best friends? are you shitting me, rafe?” you shake your head again, the absurdity of the accusation almost too much to handle.
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, his gaze still burning into yours like he’s waiting for you to crack. but you don’t—at least, not yet.
“well, since we’re just accusing each other of shit now,” you say, your voice sharp as a knife, “how’s stacy doing?” your eyes flicker between his, and just like you predicted, his confidence falters. there’s a moment—a flicker—where his gaze drops, and you pounce. “i assume she was busy tonight, right? that why you texted me?”
“what the fuck are you talking about?” rafe snaps, his chest rising and falling heavily as he steps closer, his frustration spilling over.
“oh, don’t give me that shit, rafe,” you fire back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. your eyes dart away from his, landing anywhere but on him. “i saw you at the country club,” you continue, your voice cold, the memory still fresh.
his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence only fuels your anger. “and even then,” you add, spinning back to face him, your words cutting like glass, “what if i am fucking jj? what is it to you? you’re the one who said no strings attached, right?”
you see the way his nostrils flare, his jaw clenching so tightly you think it might snap. his eyes darken, and you know exactly what he’s thinking—the thought of jj seeing you the way rafe has, touching you, hearing the sounds you make. it’s killing him. but he won’t say it. not out loud.
“you’re mad, rafe,” you say, your voice quieter now but still firm. “but you don’t get to be. not after the rules you set.”
you push past him, deciding you were done—done with the accusations, the games, all of it. but, of course, you don’t get far. rafe’s hand closes firmly around your wrist, yanking you back toward him with enough force that you stumble. before you can steady yourself, you collide with his chest, the hard press of muscle against you taking your breath away.
his lips crash against yours without warning, rough and demanding, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. the intensity of it sends a jolt through you, but it’s not enough to freeze you in place. your fists fly up, pushing hard against his chest, trying to shove him off.
“rafe,” you manage, your voice muffled against his lips, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. instead, your resistance only seems to fuel him, his free hand sliding up to wrap around your neck, not too tight, but firm enough to hold you there.
his lips move hungrily against yours, his breath hot, his grip unwavering. you can feel the frustration, the anger, and something else tangled in the way he kisses you—something you can’t name, something overwhelming. your heart races, torn between wanting to fight and the way your body reacts instinctively to his touch.
you hated it. hated how easily your body betrayed you, handing itself over to him without a second thought. and the worst part? rafe knew it too. he always did.
he used it to his advantage every time, just like now. the second your resistance began to falter, the tension in your fists loosening as your body instinctively softened against his, that familiar smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. he could feel it—the way your resolve was slipping, the way the pull between you was overtaking every logical thought in your mind.
the familiarity of him started to seep through, clouding the anger that had burned so brightly just moments ago. rafe’s grip on your neck relaxed slightly, his fingers brushing your skin like he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t the reason you’d wanted to end this in the first place.
and god, you hated him for it. but you hated yourself even more. no matter how much you told yourself to walk away, to end it, your body always seemed to betray you the moment his hands were on you.
before you even realized what was happening, you were in the back seat of rafe’s truck, straddling his lap. his hands gripped your hips with bruising force, guiding your movements as you instinctively rolled against him. the friction of his hardened, clothed cock pressing against you sent shivers up your spine, a traitorous whimper slipping past your lips.
his breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he let out a low groan of satisfaction. you hated how easily he got to you, how the anger you felt just moments ago melted into something entirely different. but no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body moved on its own, craving the familiarity of him, the intensity only he could give you.
his hands move from gripping your hips to trailing up your back, his fingers deftly finding the string of your bikini top. with a quick tug, the knot unravels, and the fabric falls between you, exposing your chest to the cool night air. the intimate sound of your breathing mixes with the muffled noise of the distant beach party, but all you can focus on is him.
rafe wastes no time, leaning in to pepper kisses across your chest. each press of his lips ignites a trail of goosebumps on your skin, the sensation making you arch closer to him. his mouth finds one of your hardened nipples, pulling it into his mouth as his hand cups the other, his fingers teasing and rolling with practiced precision.
a moan slips from your lips, filling the still air around you. rafe hums in satisfaction, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin. his grip on you tightens as he continues, clearly intent on drawing every reaction out of you that he can.
“fuck, i missed you,” he breathes, his voice low and ragged as he pulls back just enough to let the words slip past his lips. before you can even process them, his mouth is back on you, his lips and tongue working their way across your skin, pulling a broken whimper from your throat.
you shake your head weakly, your fingers gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. “no, you didn’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling, the words more of a desperate plea than an accusation.
rafe pauses, his lips hovering over your collarbone. his hands tighten their hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he meets your gaze, his blue eyes blown out. “yes, i did,” he mutters, his tone firm, almost defensive, before dipping his head back down to kiss you again, as if he could erase the doubt you so clearly feel.
with one hand, he makes quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down just enough to give himself better access. his hand slips past the waistband of your bikini bottoms, his fingers brushing against your heated skin. the low groan that escapes his lips when he feels how soaked you are sends a jolt of heat straight through you.
“not surprising,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with smug satisfaction.
you gasp, your head falling back slightly as his fingers glide through your folds, gathering your arousal before starting slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the sensation sparks through you, making your hips instinctively rock against his hand, chasing the friction.
rafe’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his free hand gripping your waist tighter to keep you steady. “that’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with control. “just like that.”
a moan escapes your lips when his fingers pick up their pace, his breathing becoming heavier against your neck. “think that pogue could get you to cum like i can, huh?” he taunts, his words cutting through the haze of pleasure. before you can respond, his fingers dip into your entrance, filling you to where you feel the cold metal ring wrapped around his finger, while his thumb presses firmly against your clit. the double stimulation sends a shockwave through you, your hands fisting his shirt as you struggle to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.
you bite down hard on your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction he craves, but it’s so hard—he knows your body too well.
“i know he can,” you finally manage to retort, your voice breathless but defiant. the second the words leave your mouth, you see it—the flicker of rage that darkens his eyes. his movements grow rougher, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to make you eat your words.
you sob out a moan, your body trembling as his pace remains relentless, refusing to give you even a second to catch your breath. “the fuck he can,” he growls, his voice low and feral, watching with a smug satisfaction as you struggle to keep yourself upright. his smirk deepens as he leans in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and desperation, swallowing your broken cries.
your hands cling to his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash through you, your body arching into his touch. his fingers work you expertly, his movements precise and unyielding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.
“c’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “let me hear you.” his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.
you feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. the waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak. rafe keeps going, his fingers guiding you through every pulse of pleasure, not stopping until your body begins to twitch with hints of overstimulation. but there’s no tenderness in it—not that you deserved any, not after what you said.
your earlier comment still burned in his mind, fueling a fire in his chest, the thought of you with jj maybank making him see red. it wasn’t about trust—it was about possession, and rafe couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching what he considered his.
without warning, he grabs your waist and flips you around, pressing your head against the leather seat, your ass in the air. your shorts and bikini bottoms are gone in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed. you barely have time to react before you hear the sound of his zipper, his own clothes hitting the floor of the truck in a mess.
“you wanna talk about jj?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with frustration as he positions himself at your entrance, the heat of him pressing against you. “let’s see if you’re still thinking about him when I’m done with you.”
before you can process his words, he thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, punishing motion. the stretch is overwhelming, a cry slipping from your lips, quickly muffled as you press your face into the seat.
rafe doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, setting a relentless, eye-rolling pace that has your body jolting with every thrust. his hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips, his frustration evident in the way he moves.
“you feel that?” he mutters, his voice rough and breathless as he leans over you, his chest grazing your back. “that’s all me. no one else, you hear me?” his words mix with the sound of skin against skin, every syllable driving him deeper, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.
you nod dumbly, unable to form words as your body reacts to his every movement. a gasp tears from your lips when his arm snakes around your neck, pulling you upright slightly and holding you firmly in place. the pressure makes your head spin, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body.
the truck fills with the obscene sounds of wet slaps and desperate moans, each one louder than the last. your cries mix with rafe’s rough groans, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. you briefly thank your lucky stars that his truck has fully blacked-out windows, shielding this mess of tangled limbs and raw need from prying eyes.
rafe moans in your ear, his voice thick with possession, his breath hot against your skin. “all mine. no one else gets to have you like this.” his pace never falters, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge again, leaving you gasping and trembling under his control.
just when you think the pleasure is close to consuming you whole, rafe’s fingers snake down between your thighs, finding your clit with infuriating precision. he rubs quick, tight circles, the added sensation pulling a choked cry from your lips as your body jerks in response.
your arm flings back instinctively, your hand finding the back of his neck, clutching onto him desperately as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. his breath is hot against your ear, ragged and uneven, matching the force of his thrusts.
“fuck, baby,” he groans softly, his voice laced with satisfaction as he feels you trembling against him. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”
“rafe—“ you moan, your grip on his neck tightening as the overwhelming mix of sensations sends you spiraling, your body teetering on the brink. every snap of his hips, every movement of his fingers, pushes you closer, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you fight to keep from collapsing back into the seat.
your body trembles uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip. rafe grunts, his breath ragged and uneven as he feels you squeezing him, the sensation tipping him over the edge.
“shit,” he moans, his voice low and strained, giving one last stuttered thrust before he stills, his release spilling into you. the warmth of him floods your core, the weight of his body pressing against yours as he rides out his high, panting heavily into the crook of your neck.
the air in the truck is thick, the only sounds now the mingling of your heavy breathing and the faint hum of the world outside—so distant it feels like it doesn’t even exist. rafe’s hand loosens its hold on your hip along with the arm around your neck, his thumb lazily brushing your skin as he finally starts to come down.
rafe’s forehead, damp with sweat, rests against your shoulder for a moment as he catches his breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you trembling and weak-kneed. Sensing it, he carefully guides you to sit on the seat, his touch surprisingly gentle now, as if trying not to shatter the fragile silence between you.
but it doesn’t last long. the haze starts to lift, post-sex clarity hitting you like a wave. your heart pounds—not from pleasure anymore, but from the weight of everything that just happened. you don’t look at him, don’t say a word. instead, you scramble off the seat, your eyes scanning the floor of the truck as you rush to gather your clothes. the humid air clings to your skin, suffocating you, making it feel like the walls of the truck are closing in.
“y/n,” rafe starts, his voice softer now, but you don’t respond, just shake your head. You tug your shorts on with shaky hands, your bikini top still tangled in your grasp as you turn your back to him, your only thought being how fast you can get out of this damn truck.
as soon as you adjust your bikini top, you’re scrambling for the door handle, slipping out of the truck as quickly as you can. the door slams shut behind you with a loud thud, cutting off the heavy silence inside. rafe’s voice calls after you, his tone somewhere between frustration and confusion, but you don’t look back. you don’t even slow down.
his words echo faintly in the humid night air as you trudge across the sand, but you block them out, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you hated yourself in this moment—really hated yourself. how could you be so weak? jj was probably back at the chateau right now, an ice pack pressed to his bruised face, joking it off like he always did. meanwhile, you were here, tangled up with the very person responsible for putting him there.
it made your stomach twist. you felt pathetic.
the guilt gnawed at you, making every step away from that truck feel heavier, like you were sinking further into something you didn’t know how to escape. you wrap your arms around yourself, the night air cold against your skin, and silently vow—never again.
as you step into your home, the soft glow of the television catches your eye. your mom is asleep on the couch, the faint sound of some late-night show playing in the background. you pause, the sight of her peaceful face tugging at something inside you. quietly, you grab the nearest blanket and drape it over her, tucking it gently around her frame before turning off the TV.
you make your way to your room, your body heavy with exhaustion. pulling out your phone, the screen lights up with countless missed calls and texts—all from him. rafe’s name stares back at you, the words call me back and where did you go? flashing among the messages. with a sigh, you open the contact and quickly silence his notifications. blocking him would feel too final, too harsh, and you know it wouldn’t stop him anyway. rafe knew where to find you—where you lived, where you spent your time, even your favorite food spot. blocking him would only provoke him further.
you drop your phone on the bed and head straight for the bathroom, turning the shower dial as cold as it would go. the icy water hits your skin like needles, but you welcome it, hoping it’ll wash away everything—his touch, his words, the feeling of his hands on your body.
but no matter how long you stand there, no matter how hard you scrub, the memories resurface, unrelenting. the way he looked at you. the sound of his voice. the pull he always had on you. you press your forehead against the cool tile, biting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.
how did it get this far?
the muffled vibration of your phone stirs you from sleep, the name sarah 🐚 lighting up the screen. groaning, you fumble for the phone and press it to your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “hell—”
“is it true?” sarah’s voice crackles through the static, sharp and tense, jolting you fully awake. your eyes shoot open, the confusion and dread hitting you all at once.
“sarah, what—” you begin, but she doesn’t let you finish.
“got it,” she says curtly, and before you can protest, the line goes dead.
you pull the phone away from your ear, staring at the dark screen as if it could offer you answers. confusion twists in your chest, but then you see it—a new message notification from her.
your hands tremble slightly as you unlock your phone and click the message. the screen shifts to a video file, sent from an anonymous number. you hesitate, the dread creeping up your spine like ice, but you press play.
the blood drains from your face as the video begins. it’s you—you and rafe. the footage is grainy, but it’s unmistakable. you see yourself pressed against the back door of his truck, his hands gripping you as you melt into the heated kiss. the angle shifts slightly, shaky and invasive, capturing the moment he pushes you inside the truck. and then—cut.
the video ends abruptly, leaving you staring at the black screen, your heart racing so hard you can feel it in your throat. you drop the phone onto your bed, your blood running cold as the weight of it crashes over you.
someone had seen. someone knew. and now sarah did too.
© aerialmirrorss
#⋆ ˚𝐚𝐫𝐢𝜗𝜚writes#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine
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