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#love island story event
sortaotaku · 7 months
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Ikemen Prince Love Island Love Point Requirements 🏝️
To be updated! I’m not done the last ending yet. (Edit: Full Clear is 72k points!)
End 1
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End 2
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End 3
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End 4
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End 5
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End 6– I’m predicting it to be around 74k? (Edit: it’s 72k)
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coldgoldlazarus · 6 months
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Suddenly hit with the unfortunate realization that I have fallen out of love with Arknights
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probablyhuntersmom · 7 months
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I have never, ever, had an October/birthday month this good ever before. It's surreal
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lunalunawillow · 2 months
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Just read Kick It Up a Notch and while the event's story was good why did it do the thing that a good chunk of VBS stories do (especially the more recent ones since Walk On and On) of just dragging the fuck on certain points 😭
Project Sekai's pacing is overall pretty great considering how story heavy and extensive it is! With Leo/Need and Nightcord being perfectly paced and WxS and MMJ having minor yet negligible hiccups but then Vivid Bad Squad's is just all over the place?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying their story is bad (trust me they do have banger,good paced stories and I'm excited for the heartbreaking plot twist coming up in June) but some of them just drag on for far too long
For example, Toya getting inspiration from the hospital guy is interesting but it loses it's appeal when it feels like 75% is focused on him and not Toya making music (and later getting to appreciate his bond with Akito) which was supposed to be the plot of the event??
And also the aforementioned recent Kohane event with the middle just feeling like meandering to have the ending randomly feel like her version of Vivid Old Tale minus the nostalgic undertone turned sad by more recent info and the much better pacing that event had
I have more examples of this but I don't want make this rant(?) much longer but TLDR vbs please stop making parts of your events go on for far too long 😭
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crowmero · 7 months
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You play the Love Island event but drink every time that Silvio and Rio start fighting.
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nailtagyuri · 7 months
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when i was 12 this was the coolest most mindblowing shit ever i was genuinely so obsessed with it I'd read it very day like the bible. I would die for a version of this with the post 3D world content over my country
#i hve vs super mario bros on my switch bc i wanted to chronologically play through the storied hero timeline and i couldnt find a rom#I think it has the same appeal as spid.erverse kinda except instead of multiple different people filling the same role as sp.iderman its#the same guy it's still mario but the changes come from things going differently at certain points in his life do you GET ME!!#LIKE!!!!!!!! MOST OF IT'S DETERMINED BY WHAT HAPPENS IN YOSHIS ISLAND AND THERES ALTERNATIVE PATHS IF HE WINS OR FAILS!!! GAME OVERS HAVE#CONSEQUENCES THAT BRANCH INTO THEIR OWN TIMELINES MARIO CAN END UP WITH DIFFERENT PARENTS ITS SO COOLLLLLL#and i love how each of the major branches has their own theme like “action hero” is the one with all the gameplay-focused#mainline titles “storied hero” is the one with all the M&L rpgs and more plot-heavier stuff and “blue collar hero” is this third one#with all the donkey kong titles and wackier/arcade titles WHERE i might add his design had a blue shirt and red overalls#and the tl builds off of those games into nsmb so i like to hc that he kept his early 80s design well into the later games <-autistic sorry#AND how thetimelines represent how their different backstories have influenced their personalities and thought processes a little like#what happened to mario in the blue collar branch like he either becomes EVILL!!!! and kidnaps donkey kong leading to dkjr or#divorces peach and has a self isolation arc after nsmb2 whats going on w him...#and i LOVE how all of them have a sort of common event where bowser invades the mushroom kingdom and in each timeline its#represented by a different variation of the original super mario bros game with action hero's event being represented by smb itself#which is fitting since thats the branch where mario and luigi ended up with their intended parents and everything went as planned#and i think a general theme here is that the more things go against intention the sillier it gets dont even get me STARTED on the time#travel shenanigans in bottom right which lead into the handheld remakes i love this so much its unreal#i do wish paper mario wasnt explained away as a dream but like thats its whole other world and art style and itd be difficult#to fit it into one of the major branches so i get why it was done. i probably wouldve just given it its own isolated bubble in the corner#at that rate i probably wouldve added so much more shit to the main tl im talking game&watch games i look at this and i see a pitch#for a full feature length autism production you understand
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felix-krain · 3 months
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I love Sonic Frontiers guys!
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dentpx · 1 year
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Also the non-linear storytelling completely results in….no storytelling imo. Nintendo is so aware of the fact that players might not do things in the order they want (if they even do them at all) so all the information has to be really minimal and repetitive in case somebody only does one temple or whatever. TP and OOT and MM and literally every other Zelda game put you directly in the path of the main antagonists or have really drastic things happen while you’re there. Where TOTK/BOTW it’s like, everything really intense happened a super long time ago and you watch a video about it and then go back to hunting frogs or whatever
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antirepurp · 3 months
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the way my frontiers saves are in perfect points in the game for testing mods but i want to start a new one. hrgh
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toestalucia · 1 year
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u ever think about the wizard and his dear friend the frog
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cinemaquiles · 1 year
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BASEADOS EM FATOS REAIS DISPONÍVEIS NO STREAMING E QUE VALEM A PENA CONFERIR
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mmm Xinyan mirage domain, aka me going “have i been here already” at least 20 times if not more
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atrwriting · 4 months
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games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader
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HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA
this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly
as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs
anyways… here’s games and other fun:
the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.
the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.
you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.
that was how your best friend met topper.
when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.
…until she mentioned how he had a friend.
“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,
“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”
you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”
she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”
you sighed. “what’s his name?”
“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”
“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”
she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”
you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”
only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.
you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.
your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.
it was fucking massive.
there was no other word.
and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.
strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.
once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.
place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.
and that he was.
when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.
a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.
he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.
“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.
“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”
he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.
…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.
who could blame her? he was hot.
no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.
topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.
letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”
topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.
“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”
maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.
if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.
you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.
you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.
“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.
you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.
as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.
“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.
“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.
he caught your upper arm.
“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”
“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”
“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”
he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”
“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”
“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.
you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”
his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”
you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”
“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”
you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”
“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”
a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”
“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”
you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”
you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”
you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.
rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.
you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.
topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”
you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.
“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”
a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”
sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”
he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”
mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.
he immediately went for glasses and liquor.
“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”
rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.
“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”
a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”
you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.
you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.
you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.
rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….
oh… you were in for it, alright.
before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.
“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”
“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”
you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”
rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.
“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”
you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”
a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.
laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.
with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.
“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.
he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”
“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”
“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.
rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.
“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”
“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.
you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.
“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”
“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”
he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.
rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”
you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”
an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.
you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.
“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”
“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”
on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.
“oh… just so soft for me…”
his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.
“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”
you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.
“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.
rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.
“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”
“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”
“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”
he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.
“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.
“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”
you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.
“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”
“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”
“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”
you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.
“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”
“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”
there was that smirk again — before he dove in.
rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.
you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.
“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”
he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.
“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”
you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”
one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.
“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”
incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.
“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”
“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”
it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —
he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.
you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.
“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”
you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.
“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.
your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.
“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.
your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.
“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”
through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.
against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”
you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”
“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”
- - -
happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall
-L xoxox
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year
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The Season 2 Poster Details
From top to bottom :)
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This is a Buddy Holly song Everyday which was originally supposed to be the Good Omens theme :)
Neil talks about it in the Introduction to the Script Book: “In the scripts, Buddy Holly’s song ‘Every Day’ runs through the whole like a thread. It was something that Terry had suggested in 1991, and it was there in the edit. Our composer, David Arnold, created several different versions of ‘Every Day’ to run over the end credits. And then he sent us his Good Omens theme, and it was the Good Omens theme. Then Peter Anderson made the most remarkable animated opening credits to the Good Omens theme, and we realised that ‘Every Day’ didn’t really make any sense any longer, and, reluctantly, let it go. It’s here, though. You can hum it.”
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And there is also the Buddy Holly Everyday record! :)
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Book The Crow Road by Iain Banks. The novel describes Prentice McHoan's preoccupation with death, sex, his relationship with his father, unrequited love, sibling rivalry, a missing uncle, cars, alcohol and other intoxicants, and God, against the background of the Scottish landscape
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Book Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. An early and primary event in the story is the abandonment of a passenger ship in distress by its crew, including a young British seaman named Jim. He is publicly censured for this action and the novel follows his later attempts at coming to terms with himself and his past and seeking redemption and acceptance.
Important themes in Lord Jim include the consequences of a single, poor decision, the indifference of the universe, and the inability to know oneself or others.
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There is book The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Its characters were based on criminals in the employ of real-life surgeon Robert Knox (1791–1862) around the time of the notorious Burke and Hare murders (1828). Neil said: Oddly enough, episode 3 will take us to a little stint of body snatching in the era.
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There is Catch-22 book by Joseph Heller that coined the term Catch-22: situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules or limitations.
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Is there only one hand or are there two? :) EIther 6 ;), or 6:30 :).
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Through the window we can see the coffeeshop Give Me Coffe or Give Me Death where Nina works! :)
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Azi is wearing his nifty glasses :).
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Crowley is wearing his new glasses, they are RIGARDS X UMA WANG - THE STONE ECLIPSE (VINTAGE BLACK/BLACK STONES) - $435
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There is the Holy Bible Aziraphale used in Season 1 :)
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There seems to be a broken phone :).
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The cakes behind Aziraphale are Eccles cakes :).
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Azi is reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published in 1859, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. The novel tells the story of the French Doctor Manette, his 18-year-long imprisonment in the Bastille in Paris, and his release to live in London with his daughter Lucie whom he had never met. The story is set against the conditions that led up to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. 
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Another book there is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - Neil said said that we will learn a lot about Jane Austin we didn’t know before.
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And finally the Treasure Island book by - again :) - Robert Louis Stevenson, an adventure novel with pirates.
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There are three geckos cuties. Who are they? Pets? Is Ligur haunting the bookshop? Who knows :).
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A mysterious pamphlet, 'The Resurrectionists’ leaflet. (unofficial spoiler :)).
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Also there is an old camera... mmm 🤔 Did Azi made some photos (of what? Him and Crowley, ducks? :)) Will we see them? :)
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Their positions is an homage to the book covers! :)(x)
Will update this as fandom discovers new things! :)❤
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sas-soulwriter · 7 months
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Creative misfortunes for characters
Identity Crisis: Have your character lose their memory, forcing them to rediscover their true self and past.
Betrayal by a Loved One: A close friend or family member betrays the character's trust, leading to emotional turmoil and inner conflict.
Physical Transformation: Give your character a physical ailment or transformation that they must come to terms with, such as sudden blindness, a debilitating illness, or turning into a different species.
Unrequited Love: Make your character fall deeply in love with someone who doesn't reciprocate their feelings, causing heartache and a quest for self-discovery.
Financial Ruin: Strip your character of their wealth and privilege, forcing them to adapt to a life of poverty and face the harsh realities of the world.
False Accusation: Have your character falsely accused of a crime they didn't commit, leading to a desperate quest to clear their name.
Natural Disaster: Place your character in the path of a devastating natural disaster, such as a hurricane, earthquake, or tsunami, and force them to survive and rebuild.
Loss of a Sense: Take away one of your character's senses (e.g., sight, hearing, taste) and explore how they adapt and cope with this profound change.
Forced Isolation: Trap your character in a remote location, like a deserted island, and make them confront their inner demons while struggling to survive.
Haunted Past: Reveal a dark secret from your character's past that comes back to haunt them, threatening their relationships and well-being.
Time Travel Consequences: Send your character back in time, but make them inadvertently change a crucial event in history, leading to unintended consequences in the present.
Psychological Breakdown: Push your character to the brink of a mental breakdown, exploring the complexities of their psyche and their journey towards recovery.
Unwanted Prophecy: Have your character be the subject of a prophecy they want no part of, as it places them in grave danger or disrupts their life.
Loss of a Loved One: Kill off a beloved character or make your protagonist witness the death of someone close to them, igniting a quest for revenge or justice.
Incurable Curse or Disease: Curse your character with an incurable ailment or supernatural curse, and follow their journey to find a cure or accept their fate.
Sudden Disappearance: Make a character disappear mysteriously, leaving the others to search for them and uncover the truth.
Betrayal of Morals: Force your character into a situation where they must compromise their ethical values for a greater cause, leading to moral dilemmas and internal conflict.
Loss of a Precious Object: Have your character lose a cherished possession or artifact that holds sentimental or magical significance, setting them on a quest to recover it.
Political Intrigue: Place your character in a position of power or influence, then subject them to political intrigue, manipulation, and power struggles.
Existential Crisis: Make your character question the meaning of life, their purpose, and their place in the universe, leading to a philosophical journey of self-discovery.
Remember that misfortunes should serve a purpose in your story, driving character growth, plot development, and thematic exploration.
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 4)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2) // (Ch. 3)
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Rafe had his head down on the rusting metal table. The sheriff’s deputies had all taken turns trying to interrogate him about the events of the day before, but none of them had succeeded in getting him to admit his father was on that plane. His hands were still bloody from the fight and he was exhausted, having been awake for nearly 48-hours.
The door creaked open again, but he didn’t bother lifting his head, anticipating another round of questions he wasn’t going to answer.
“Well,” Shoupe said with a sigh. “You’re free to go.”
Rafe raised his head with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Shoupe? Couldn’t make anything stick?”
Shoupe rolled his eyes, “just stay on the island, alright? We’re not done with you yet.”
“Actually, sounds like you are,” Rafe stood and patted Shoupe’s shoulder condescendingly as he started walking towards the door.
“Funny, I didn’t think there was anyone left on this island who cared enough about you to wait in the station lobby all night, but apparently I was wrong,” Shoupe said as Rafe opened the door.
Keeping his back turned, Rafe stood in the doorway with his brow furrowed. He didn’t want to give Shoupe the satisfaction of knowing he also had no idea who could care enough about him to be there. 
As he passed the rest of the officers, standing there watching him in disgust and disbelief that he was getting away again, he gave them a smirk and a mocking salute, “a pleasure as always.”
You shifted in the uncomfortable lobby seat, continuously fidgeting both from discomfort and panic at the idea of seeing Rafe. When you had approached the front desk and told them you were here to post bail for Rafe Cameron, the woman behind the counter looked at you annoyed and informed you that you couldn’t, as Rafe hadn’t officially been charged yet.
“Charged with what?” You asked.
She rolled her eyes at your naivete and returned to the sudoku she had been working on.
“Okay, then,” you said as you took a seat in the empty waiting area. 
That was six hours ago, but you figured if he hadn’t been charged, they would have to release him eventually, and you’d be here waiting. You had no earthly idea what you would say to him when the time came, but you’d be here, and maybe that would be enough.
He strutted into the lobby like he owned the place, his cocky walk coming to an abrupt halt when he looked up and saw you sitting there. You rose to your feet, shocked at the sight of him even though it was all you had been thinking about since you ran out of the cemetery hours ago.
Rafe looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. In his eyes, you could see his brain at work, like he was calculating. What choices he was weighing, you weren’t sure, but you certainly didn’t expect the move he made next.
“Hey, baby!” He called out, striding toward you quickly, pulling you into his arms. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, he kissed you. It was sloppy and crude, his tongue invading your mouth as hands grabbed your ass, lifting you into the air. Your face burned with shock and embarrassment, knowing all of the cops in the station could see you two. Then it clicked - that’s exactly why Rafe was doing it.
Before had a chance to decide if you were going to play along or slap him, he broke the kiss and threw his arm around your shoulders, walking you toward the front door.
“Later, Shoupe!” Rafe called over his shoulder, turning the two of you slightly, allowing you to get a quick look at Shoupe standing with his hands on his hips, red in the face. What the fuck did Rafe do to make Shoupe look at him like that?
You stayed silent as Rafe walked you through the door, leading you down the block and turning onto a side street. The second you were out of sight of the station, he pulled his arm away and took several long strides to create as much space between you as possible.
He looked at you for a long moment, once again calculating his next move. You froze in anticipation as he opened his mouth to say something, heart dropping when he changed his mind and closed it again. Silently, he turned and started walking away from you down the street.
“My car’s the other way,” you said, feeling stupid for saying such a mundane thing in such a heated moment.
“Have a nice walk then,” he called back sarcastically.
“Where are you going?” 
“Home,” he was almost too far for you to hear now. You started after him, needing to jog a bit to catch up with him.
“Let me give you a ride,” you panted once you had caught up to him, stepping in front of him to stop him from getting any further away.
“Think I’d rather walk,” he said dismissively. 
“It’s 10pm, and you’re gonna what? Walk through The Cut in the middle of the night? I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I don’t think they’ve changed their opinion on having Kooks in their territory,” you were pulling out any logic you could think of to get him into your car so you could finally talk to him.
Taking your point, he rolled his eyes and turned around, walking in the direction you had indicated your car was in.
You drove in silence for what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been, as you knew the drive to Tannyhill was fifteen minutes tops. Rafe was looking out the window, hands anxiously rubbing up and down his thighs as he kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he was fighting against some invisible restraint. You were trying hard to keep your eyes on the road, but couldn’t control the way they kept drifting over to him, eyeing the blood on his battered hands. The remnants of what was clearly not a good forty-eight hours all over him.
You had so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask him, that you almost couldn’t think straight. You were still reeling from the news that his father had died, and now the sight of him walking out of the sheriff’s station covered in blood. If so much could happen to him in just a few weeks, you didn’t even want to think about how much of his life you missed in the last two years.
After a while, the silence so tense it almost hurt, you decided to dip your toe in the water.
“Is it yours?” You asked, forcing your eyes to stay on the road.
“What?” He mumbled as he ran his hands over his buzzed head, still not looking at you.
“The blood,” you clarified.
“Some of it,” he answered honestly.
You nodded, as though this was all super normal. “And the rest of it?”
He threw his head back on the seat and let out a forceful sigh, pointedly not answering your question. You decided you’d tested the waters enough and remained silent the rest of the drive.
When you pulled up to the gate at Tannyhill, you rolled down the window so you could reach the box to put the code in, looking at Rafe expectedly. Your attempted nonchalance didn’t work, he rolled his eyes at you, pulling out his phone. As he typed the code into his app, he used his other hand to cover the numbers from your view. Long gone were the days he’d text you the code the second Ward changed it so you could sneak in and out to see him whenever you wanted. The days he’d hold you until you fell asleep, whispering to you about how someday he’d inherit this house and share it with you. As you watched the gates slowly open in the glow of your headlights, the future you once believed in so fiercely had never felt further away.
You drove slowly down the long drive toward the house, surprised to see it was completely dark.
“Where is everyone? Where’s Sarah?” You asked. 
“Just drop me here,” Rafe ignored your question.
You stopped the car a few yards from the front door, and Rafe immediately climbed out, closing the door loudly behind him and walking toward the house. You weren’t exactly expecting him to invite you in, but this non-goodbye was so abrupt you felt cheated. Your mind raced with all the things you still wanted to say as you watched Rafe walking toward the house, your chance to finally say them going with him.
You snapped out of your haze and threw open the car door, not bothering to close it behind you as you ran after him calling, “wait!”
He turned on you quickly, making you stop in your tracks a few feet from him. Suddenly, all the things you wanted to say disappeared from your mind and you swallowed hard.
“What do you want?” He prompted, looking annoyed at how long it was taking you to form a sentence. “Why the hell were you at the station?”
“I just…” you could feel him preparing to turn and keep walking back towards the house, you needed to say something, fast. “Your dad.”
Rafe clenched his jaw, he didn’t know what you had heard and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
“I’m…” you took one step towards him. “Rafe, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He left the question open ended, forcing you to reveal exactly how much you knew.
“I saw his plot, at the cemetery,” you didn’t need to tell Rafe what you were doing at the cemetery, he had been there with you on multiple occasions, including the day they buried your own father.
Rafe just shrugged, looking at the ground to avoid your empathetic gaze.
“Rafe,” you said quietly, the sound of his name on your tongue sending chills through you both. When he still didn’t look up at you, you stepped closer. He tried to dodge your eyeline, but you reached up gently and placed your fingers under his jaw, looking him straight in the eye as you asked, “what’s going on?”
For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, chest to chest as you searched each other’s faces in the glow of the moon. If he’d let you, you would stand there for hours, just studying him, trying to read it all on his face. You used to know the meaning of every expression he made, every glint in his eye, every twitch of his lips. The two of you used to be able to have full conversations without saying a word. Now, your eyes searched every inch of his face, and you were coming up with nothing. 
He snapped his head back suddenly, ripping it away from your hand like you were burning him. He shook his head, and he wasn’t sure who he was saying no to- you or himself. 
“Just go home, y/n,” he said, arm outstretched, gesturing towards your car dismissively. 
“I can’t,” you spoke into the darkness. 
Rafe caught himself before asking you why, trying to preserve the image that he didn’t care. He assumed it had something to do with your mom. He had spent countless hours of his life listening to your stories of fights with your mother, even being present and involved in several of them, often being the source of the conflict. He swallowed the temptation to ask you what happened, pushing away the desire to have you laying with your head in his lap, gently playing with your hair as he let you rant as long as it took for you to feel better. He pushed the memory away, an action that was muscle memory to him at this point. 
“Well you can’t stay here,” he told you.
“But I just want to-”
“Just leave! We both know you know how to, you’re a fucking professional at it!” His booming voice echoed through the evening air and shot straight through you.
Tears sprang to your eyes, the sound of his raised voice so jarring. He had never screamed at you like this. Even in moments of frustration, just the thought of making you cry was enough to break him. 
You closed your eyes, letting the tears slip through and slide down your cheeks. You turned from him, but he’d already seen them. Guilt and fury battled in his chest, wanting to hold you and push you away at the same time. He hated the sight of your tears, but being able to release the hurt and anger he’d been feeling for two years felt somewhat satisfying, too. He felt like he was two completely different people, not sure he wanted to be either of them.
You sniffled and wiped your tears with the backs of your hands, gathering yourself before turning back to him.
“I know that I hurt you,” you said. “But I have my side of the story, too.”
“The story?” he scoffed. “You said you’d love me forever and then you didn’t. You said you wouldn’t disappear into the night and that’s exactly what you did. You’re a liar. That’s the story.”
Every day for two years, you had broken your own heart. You had never stopped trying to fight the demons of that night. You had devoted your life to trying to figure out what the hell had happened that could’ve ended with you on a train, riding off into the night against your will. For two years, you’d spent your nights praying to any God that would listen to let you go back in time, to undo this twisted fate. 
But none of those agonizing nights hurt quite like this. He really thought you had wanted to leave? That you just up and stopped loving him? You knew he had no way of knowing what really happened, but you were still clinging to some small shred of hope that he’d give you the benefit of the doubt. Clearly he hadn’t. 
“Is that what you think?” You asked in a small voice.
“That’s what I know,” he corrected. 
No words came to you as all of the tiny cracks in your heart you had worked so hard to fill ripped open again. Rafe only took your silence as confirmation.
“Let it go, y/n,” he said, turning to walk towards the house. “I have.”
With that, he closed the door firmly behind him, the lock clicking loudly.
So that was it then. Seven years of friendship, five years of wild love, two years of heartbreak. Fourteen years of him gone, the rest of your life without him a sprawling void ahead of you. The kiss you shared in the sheriff’s station would be your last. Your last kiss and it wasn’t even real, the agony of that thought pushed you ever the edge and the tears you’ve been trying to stifle flowed free. Shoulders shaking with your sobs, you forced yourself to walk back to the car, no idea where you’d go once you were in it.
The door was still open, but the light had gone out. Once inside, you turned the key and the engine sputtered meekly as you tried and failed to turn it over. 
“Shit!” You screamed, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. Leaving the door open must’ve killed the battery. You cursed your mom for insisting on still driving this piece of shit even though she could easily afford an upgrade.
A professional leaver, Rafe had called you. The irony that just minutes after he said that you were literally unable to leave made you chuckle humorlessly. All of the emotion of this week weighing on your shoulders, you sat and cry-laughed into the darkness, feeling completely unhinged. What was supposed to be a quick, uneventful trip to your hometown had turned into a complete shitshow, you don’t know why you expected anything less.
You sat in the dark, giving up on trying to start the car. What were you supposed to do here? You could either knock on the door and chance another verbal bruising from Rafe, or walk home in the dead of night and face your mother. You fell asleep trying to decide which was worse.
Seven Years Earlier…
There were so many people packed into your house, you assumed nobody would notice when you slipped out and hopped on your bike. You were wrong. Rafe saw your bike lying on its side on the path leading down toward the beach, you hadn’t even bothered to put up the kickstand. 
He followed your footsteps down to the water. It was chilly and raining, the beach completely clear of people. The rain was falling hard, washing your footsteps from the sand, but he managed to follow what was left of them to the abandoned lifeguard tower you used to climb on as kids. There you were, sitting underneath the wooden structure for shelter, feet digging into the sand as you hugged your knees to your chest. Rafe stopped short, he hated seeing you upset, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to make you feel better. He had never been very good at feelings.
He decided he would approach you anyway, not saying anything in order to avoid saying the wrong thing. He ducked down and slid between the stilts of the tower, finding a space on the ground next to you.
You didn’t have to look over to know who it was, you could feel him. You were relieved when Rafe didn’t say anything, you were so overwhelmed by the chaos of the day, you couldn’t form words to explain it if you tried. After a few minutes, you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they began rolling down your face in big, fat drops. 
“Hey, hey,” Rafe said, startled by your sudden outburst. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. You laid your head on his shoulder and he awkwardly rubbed his hand up and down your back. “It’s…it’s gonna be ok,” he said hesitantly, terrified he’d somehow make you feel worse.
The soft fabric of the black dress your mother had chosen for you to wear to your father’s wake felt nice under his fingertips. His hand grazing softly up and down your back felt nice as you let the tears fall. You let Rafe soothe you for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and wiping your tears away with the back of your hands.
“Sorry,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“You don’t have to say sorry,” he assured with a sincerity that almost made you start crying again. 
You looked over at him for the first time, his hair messy and wet from walking all the way here from your house in the rain. His cheeks were pink from the chilly air and the bashfulness he was feeling from sharing such an intimate moment with you. You had always thought he was cute, but in this moment, you realized you absolutely adored him.
“I just didn’t want to be there anymore,” you explained. “I don’t even know half of those people and everyone just kept hugging me.”
“I wouldn’t want to be there either,” he reassured you.
You nodded, sniffling, and giving him a thankful smile. Without really thinking it through he reached out a shaky hand and wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. His hand lingered, and you placed yours on top of it, squeezing gently with appreciation. The contact made both of you blush and you looked away from each other. You had been friends since you were both six-years-old, of course you had touched before, but something about this time felt different.
“I know how you feel,” he said in a voice so quiet that you could barely hear it over the pattering of rain on the wooden structure above you and the crashing of waves. 
That’s right. In the storm of your own grief you had almost forgotten that Rafe had once lost a parent, too. It was about a year after you got to the island, he had missed two weeks of school in the third grade. When he came back, he started his still-running reign of principal’s office MVP.  
“I know it feels like maybe you won’t ever be happy again,” he looked out at the ocean, afraid you would notice the water starting to collect in the corners of his eyes. “But you will be. You’ll find something that makes you happy, and soon it won’t hurt so bad.”
“Did you?” You asked.
“Did I what?”
“Find something that made you happy again?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
Rafe looked down at his feet shyly, his hand scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. You teasingly elbowed him, making him laugh. He swallowed hard before mumbling, “you.”
Your stomach flipped and your face went beat red, completely caught off guard by his answer. Once again, your heart ached with the affection you felt for him. You reached out and lightly tucked your fingers under his chin, pulling his face up to meet your gaze.
“You make me happy, too,” you confessed. 
You had never done it before, and you weren’t really sure how to, but you knew that you just had to kiss him. Rafe had the same idea, and met you half-way with his own lips puckered. 
It was quick and innocent, the first of a million kisses you’d share. You didn’t know how it was possible to feel so sad and so happy at the same time, but you felt as though you could face anything now that you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.
Now…
TAP TAP TAP. Your eyes flew open as you lifted your head from the window and took in your surroundings, unsure of where you were. As your blurry surroundings came into focus, you were pulled down from your post-sleep haze by the looming figure of the man on the other side of the window. Rafe stood outside your car window, holding up a steaming mug of coffee. 
You rolled the window down, smiling shyly at Rafe as you blinked rapidly in the soft morning light. 
“Hi,” you said weakly.
“You sleep here?” He asked with neither amusement nor annoyance in his voice.
“The car wouldn’t start,” you explained. “I think the battery died.”
“You could’ve told me, I could’ve called Triple A,” he chided.
“I wasn’t sure you would’ve opened the door if I knocked,” you pointed out.
“That’s fair,” he agreed. The gentleness he was speaking to you with now was in such stark contrast to the tone he’d used last night. You didn’t want to say anything, scared to disturb the calm waters.
He handed the coffee to you, which you accepted gratefully. You took a sip, two creams and one sugar - he remembered. 
“Thank you,” you said softly.
“You can come inside while I call someone to come jump the car,” he offered.
You were so confused, but didn’t want to question it. You simply nodded as he opened the car door for you so you could climb out without spilling the coffee. 
After calling Triple A, Rafe joined you on the back porch, now with his own cup of coffee.
“Still take yours black?” You asked.
“The way coffee should be?” He teased. “Yes, yes I do.”
You smiled and you shook your head at him, clutching your coffee and looking out at the sun rising over the sea. The two of you sat in silence for a while on opposite sides of the wicker patio couch, sipping your coffees and avoiding each other’s eyes. 
You thought through the events of yesterday, remembering everything Rafe had said, and everything you wanted to say but hadn’t been able to. Rafe’s words were so cruel, but you got the sense he had fully believed everything he said. You thought you would never get the chance to respond to his accusations, but your car troubles had given you this extra time with him, and you didn’t want to waste the second chance. Should you make a joke? Try to tease him some more about his coffee preferences? Should you ask about his dad, or the reason he had been taken in to the sheriff’s office for questioning? Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about his dad, and if this was your last chance to talk to him, you didn’t want to waste it on small talk. You decided your only option was to talk about yourself, about how you are feeling, and let him decide if he wanted to hear it or not.
���You’re wrong,” you said, sitting up to look at him. 
Your direct words startled him and he snapped his head to you, also sitting up straight.
“About what?” He says defensively. 
You look at him, hoping he can’t tell that your heartbeat is spiking and your throat is tight with anxiety. You need what you’re about to say to come out confidently, you need to say it with your chest or you may as well not say it at all.
“I never lied to you,” you told him. “And I never stopped loving you.”
Rafe’s face went pale, not at all expecting you to say that. He set his coffee down and got up from the couch, walking quickly back into the house and leaving you sitting alone, heart in hand. 
You followed him into the house, feet padding on the wooden floor behind him.
“Please just talk to me,” you pleaded.
He rounded on you, forcing you to step back.
“Don’t say shit like that!” He yelled.
“Don’t yell at me!” You matched his energy. “You never used to yell at me.”
“You left, y/n! What was I supposed to do, stay exactly the same and wait patiently for you to come back from God-knows-where like a good boy? No!” He jammed his finger into his chest, “I grew up! I became a fucking man! And now you wanna just waltz in like nothing fucking happened? It’s too late for that!”
You didn’t cower, but got closer to him with each proclamation he made. You found something in you that you hadn’t had last night, something like courage.
“You’re fucking right you changed! You know how I know? The old Rafe would’ve listened to me for two fucking seconds so I could explain!”
“I don’t wanna hear any fucking excuses-”
“I’m not making excuses! If you’d let me speak for two fucking seconds, you’d know that!” 
“There’s nothing you could say that would make me not pissed at you,” his voice was lowered but still filled with vitriol.
“You know what? Fine,” you shot back. “Be pissed at me. But I’ve had a long, unbelievably shitty two years and I’m not gonna stand here and let you scream at me as if you’ve never done anything wrong, ‘cause we both know that’s far from the truth.”
Rafe looked at you like you had smacked him, surprise flashing across his face. Of course, he knew you were referring to the accident and the things that happened before you left, right? His face smoothed over with recognition, maybe even relief.
“You’re talking about the accident,” he confirmed.
“Yes, I’m talking about the accident,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “What else would I be talking about?”
He shook his head, “nothing.”
“Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Like maybe why you were held for questioning by the police for 24-hours, covered in someone else’s blood. 
Rafe studied you for any sign that you knew what had really been going on the past few months. You were looking at him so intensely, it was impossible to read your face. He couldn’t bear the thought that you knew what he’d done, what he’d become. And even though he was still pissed at you, still hurt, no matter your supposed explanation for leaving, he was desperate for you to remember him as the person he was before. He needed you to believe he was good. 
He drank you in for a long time, standing there with your arms crossed, looking up at him expectantly. Your hair was still messy from your night of tossing and turning in the car. You definitely looked older, but you were still so essentially you. He knew you wouldn’t let him stall much longer, that he would need to respond eventually. So he did.
Rafe stepped closer to you, his tall frame requiring you to tilt your head back to look up at him. He grabbed each of your forearms, pulling them apart, forcing you to uncross them and lose your defensive stance.
“There’s a lot of things I’ve wanted to tell you,” he whispered in a low voice, sending a shiver down your spine. “And things I’ve wanted to show you.”
You feel your new-found courage faltering, but try your best to maintain your confident facade as you respond, “like what?” The small amount of air between you is so tense, you’re being pulled to him like a magnet. You know, you know, you shouldn’t do this. There is so much you need to talk about, so many things left unresolved. But then he licks his lips, an action that used to mean I want you in your own secret language. And fuck if you don’t want him too.
(chapter five)
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a/n: y'all. not me making myself cry with this one. your support has absolutely blown me away and made me so happy to be posting my writing again!!! Doing my best with this taglist but if you asked and I left you off please let me know!! ch 5 on it's way!
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @aerie717 @kickenkricken @st0rmyt @sage-burrow @adoreleeknw @mudisgranapat @sugarmelonwater @blue-greener-weiner @vilentia @sunny1616 @namelesslosers @groovycass @zizuras @lifeonawhim
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