Me: I'm Going To Write A Fic To My Own Entertainment

Rider

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Summary- What happens after Rafe flips his bike.

Warnings- unprotected sex, choking, fingering, oral (male receiving), dirty talk. 18+

Watching Rafe speed through the sand on his dirt bike had your insides curling into themselves, your panties soaked and you worried people would be able to tell you were horny. Nibbling on the skin around your thumb and rubbing your thighs together you watched with wide eyes, your heart rattles against your ribcage harshly.

Rafe speeds up behind Maybank causing your nerves to triple as he gets closer to the blonde hair pogue, you know what’s about to happen before it does. Your eyes zone in on Rafe’s front tire moments before it clips JJ’s back tire. It sends them both into the air, your eyes squeeze shut on instinct, the breath you were about to take catching in your throat.

Gasps echo through your ears and you pop your eyes open once more, Rafe lay on the sand in a heap of limbs and motorbike gear, his bike lay half a mile away from his body. He hasn’t moved yet, your instinct is to run and that’s just what you do. You're sprinting across the sand before anyone can stop you, completely oblivious to the other bikes coming towards the two boys on the floor. Your sight is set on Rafe as your legs carry you towards him, he cranes his neck when he hears your name being screamed and his eyes go wide when he realizes you're coming for him. “Y/N!” He all but screams, pushing himself up on his elbows. Eyes darting between the bikes as you in worry.

His own heart is racing now, most likely matching the speed of your own. You're throwing yourself on him before he can stop you and he curls himself around you as the bikes skid by you sending the sand and dust into the air around you. He uses his body to shield you as John B abruptly breaks just before he hits JJ. All Rafe can hear is the sound of his heartbeat as he holds you tighter against his chest, your body hidden by his.

“Baby” you cry into his neck as you cling to him. His own arms tighten around you as he feels you shake against him, the sound of you crying is drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. His anger bubbles in his chest at the idea of you getting hurt because he decided to fuck with Maybank. Angry at himself for putting you in danger.

“Hey hey it’s okay, I’m okay” he whispers into your hair, placing a hand behind your head and pressing you further into his neck. He can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, he pulls the two of you up from the sand and you wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you stay silent as he walks away from the crowd, ignoring the calls from Topper. He walks you towards his car and puts you into the passenger seat, clipping the seat belt in. “Stay here while I get someone to take my bike home” he orders, closing the door before you can argue.

Wiping away your tears you watch him walk over to Kelce, the two of them chat and you see side glance Rafe’s car and he nods. You sit in silence for a few moments before Rafe turns to stalk back towards the car, your eyes dance down the length of his body. Remembering the butterflies in your belly before he had flipped off the bike, you watch him open his door and slide into the seat. “I’m sorry” you whisper, knowing he’s angry that you had put yourself in danger for him. He reaches over and grips your thigh, turning the ignition on as he pulls out of the car park.

You ride home in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles on your thigh. You chew at the skin around your nail again as you take sideway glances at him in the driver's seat. He’s half man spread in his seat, his jaw tense as he clenches his teeth together. Glasses sitting on the bridge of his perfect nose as he stares ahead, his hand moves every so often around the wheel as the light bounces off his ring into your eye. You're turned on again, squirming in your seat to get comfortable. Rafe dressed in his bike gear always made you hot and bothered. He takes a few sideway glances at you but you stare ahead, trying not to be so obvious. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh sending goosebumps down your arms, you catch the small smirk on his lips but he says nothing.

As you pull up to his house, he’s rounding the car to your side before you can open and he helps you out. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back as he walks you towards the porch, inserting the key into the lock and opening the door for you. “Rafe” you whisper, unsure if he’s still angry at you. You stand at the threshold waiting for him to turn around to look at you. “Are you mad?”.

“I was… but I have something else on my mind now” he states, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you towards the living room. “What?” You question, he takes a seat on the couch and pats his lap. You go to take a seat on his thigh but he shakes his head, gripping your hips he maneuvers you so you're straddling him. Your skirt bunches up and he catches sight of your black panties, knowing exactly what ones you're wearing. The ones he had brought you will the little bow on the front. “You were fidgety in the car” he states, his palms rub up the length of your thighs as he stares up at you with a knowing smirk. The small dimple causes your inside to melt again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Just worried you were angry”.

He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head, pushing his hands further up your thigh. The material of your skirt now completely rolled up exposing your panties. “So if I slipped a finger into your panties you wouldn’t be wet?” He questions, raising his eyebrows at you. You pull away from him slightly but he pulls you back in, pressing your mound into his belt buckle causing a strangled moan to slip from your lips. “That’s what I thought”.

“I am angry you put yourself in danger, angry that I put you in danger but… I’d rather make you cum than tell you off for being stupid”

“Oh” is all you can manage, your clit throbs as he rocks his hips into you. “What’s got you so turned on baby?” He questions, halting his movements as he waits for your answer. “You”

“Of course… but what exactly?”

“Your outfit.. you on the bike.. before you flipped”

He hums, picking up the rhythm of his rocking again. The cool metal of his belt buckle pressed firmly against your aching clit. Your fingers curl around his shoulders as he plays with you, your mouth dropping open slightly to let out soft moans. “Use me baby… rock those hips and dry hump me” he orders, placing his arms behind his head as he stares up at you. His movements have stopped now and your hips have started to roll against him. “That’s it baby, don’t be quiet. Tell me what you want me to do to you after you make yourself cum on my lap” he says, eyes roaming from his lap to your face. His eyes are full with lust, his chest beats rapidly as he watches you fuck yourself against his lap. “I.. I want you to touch me”

“Yeah baby but where? Where do you want my hands?”

“I want them on my tits… and my pussy, I want your fingers inside of me oh fuck” You cry out, riding his belt buckle harder as your toes curl with pleasure. You can feel that familiar pressure already, your panties soaking through and coating his pants. “I can do that baby.. what else do you want? Hmm?” He questions, his hands have moved back to your thighs. Sliding up the sides until he grasps the flesh of your ass and helps you move your hips against him.

“Your cock!”

“I want your cock.. oh fuck… I need your cock Rafe! I need you to fuck..shit… fuck me, please fuck me!” You're whining and cursing, throwing your head back in ecstasy as your body shakes around him. Your orgasm riddles your body the moment he touches you again. “Oh! Oh yes yes”.

“That’s it baby.. doing such a good fucking job” he praises, pressing a kiss to your throat and then your chest. Your hands move to pull your shirt over your head, Rafe eyes your tits that are enclosed in a black bra. He snaps the clips at your back and pulls the bra down your arms exposing your tits to him. “Please” you beg when his hot breath tickles your chest, his mouth encloses around a nipple. Arching your chest into his mouth more, one of his hands spread across the top of your back as he suckles your breasts. “That feels so good” you whine, rolling your hips into him again. You can feel his hard cock through his pants and you so desperately want it inside of you. “I need you”.

He pulls away from your chest and pulls his own shirt over his head, your fingers run down the length of his chiseled stomach and begin fiddling with his belt, slipping your hand into his pants as he unzips himself. You pull his cock free and fists him tightly, moving your wrist up and down as pre cum coats his tip. “What do you want baby” he grunts as he watches you, eyeing his hard cock, you're slipping from his lap and kneeling between his legs. Taking his cock deep into your mouth, your tongue swirling against the soft skin.

You can feel him throb against your throat as you suck him back, his fingers placed into the back of your hair. He holds you tightly but doesn’t try to take control until he’s pulling you away and gripping you by the throat. “Sit on my cock” he demands, his hand doesn’t leave your throat as you move back onto him, reaching for his cock you coat him with your juices by running the tip between your folds before pushing down onto him. Synchronized groans slip from your lips as his cock is buried deep inside of you, it almost feels like he’s in your stomach.

He lets you take control again but doesn’t let go of your throat, he pulls you to his lips and devours you as you bounce on him. “Fuck baby.. that’s it.. take what you want” he growls, sucking on your bottom lip. His fingertips press a little harder into your throat, causing the air to come out in shorter breaths. “I- I can’t breath” you whimper, he doesn’t loosen his thought. “Breath, slow baby.. in and out” he says, your fingers wrap around his wrist but you keep bouncing on his cock. Thighs aching with each movement, a thin sheen of sweat coats your body. “That’s it baby.. such a good girl, it feels so much better when your head is just a little dizzy”.

And he’s right, as your eyes go slightly cross eyed and your breaths come out in short puffs, the ache in your belly grows and your hips coming down harder. “Fuck” you cry out, your clit throbs. “Such a good girl.. that’s it baby, I can feel you strangling my cock. Your so fucking wet” he groans, he’s pulling you off his cock and pushing you into the cushions of the couch.

Your ass high in the air, he thrusts himself back into you and grips your hips tightly. “Yes! yes yes” you scream into the couch, arching your back and digging your nails into the material. His palms connect with your ass with a loud smack, his red handprint appearing seconds after, choking on your saliva as he gets you closer and closer to your release. His hand grips your hair tightly as he pushes your face into the couch, crowding your body as he pounds into you. You can feel the beat of his heart on your back and the throbbing of his cock between your walls. “Oh fuck Rafe… I’m gonna cum!” Your warning far too late as your body shakes with pleasure, his fingers toy with your clit causing what seems like an explosion of pleasure to take over your senses and you cry and whimper into the couch. He’s cumming into you moments later, your walls pulsating around his heavy cock. Shooting his cum deep inside of you, grunts of pleasure spill from his lips and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Fuck” he groans, loosening his fingers from your hair and hips. He pulls you away from the couch and slips his cock from within you, moving the both of you so you lay on your back.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger again” he states a few minutes later, your hand pressed to his chest and leg wrapped over his legs. “Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again and I won’t have to put myself in danger”. He chuckles under his breath and kisses your lips.

“You're lucky I could tell you were horny on the way home otherwise this afternoon could have gone a whole other route” he says, craning your neck to look up at him as he stares down at you. “Well I was ready to jump your bones the moment the race finished but you ruined that by doing a flip… maybe you should go for a ride again and I can show you what I was planning on doing after…”

“Yeah?”

“Call Kelce and get your bike”

Drew Starkey shirtless 🎀

BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GAWDD 😫

What about axel x shy!reader who's best friends with Robby and Miguel and she's one of the best fighters? Let's just say after the big competition, shy!reader friends/dojo, feels bad about her being left out being single so all the dojos are having a goodbye party (no alcohol for me), exchanging numbers to hang out in the future, thankfully shy!reader made new friends. Shyreader friends/dojo took the title as the matchmakers and they're happy seeing axel and shy!reader talking but later they're making out steamy, not surprising axel has a HUGE crush on shy!reader obviously they're gonna date sooner or later. Then unknowingly to everyone, axel and shyreader are doing smut, just Missionary.

The next day, when shyreader friends worried about her and found her, wondering where she went last night but later realized they caught her doing the walk of shame. Just fluff

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | after the sekai taikai, at a party, your friends try to set you up, and they succeed. later, you and axel share an intimate moment. your friends catch you both, teasing you about the obvious connection between you

warnings | shy!reader, fluff, teasing, embarrassment, smut, explicit content, p in v, protected sex

word count | 2.2 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The Sekai Taikai was over. Everyone was exhausted, some with bandaged knuckles and others with bruises they wore with pride. But for the first time in a long while, dojos, rivalries, and differences didn’t matter. It was a celebration.

The farewell party was held in a large hall inside the hotel where many teams were staying. The music played at a moderate volume, and fighters exchanged phone numbers, promising to keep in touch.

You were there, leaning against the wall with a bottle of water in your hands. Your shyness had kept you on the sidelines of many interactions, but thanks to Robby and Miguel, you had managed to befriend several competitors from other dojos. Even so, you knew they were keeping an eye on you.

"It’s an injustice," Sam whispered to Miguel, watching you with a smug smile. "How is she the only one still single?"

"I know, I know," Miguel responded dramatically. "She’s strong, beautiful, and adorably shy. If I didn’t have you, Sam, I’d kidnap her."

"Don’t start," Robby huffed, crossing his arms. "But yeah, this has to change."

"Who’s the lucky guy?" Hawk asked, joining the conversation with a mischievous grin.

Miguel glanced around and smirked. "I think the lucky guy already found her."

Everyone turned their heads and saw Axel Kovacevic walking toward you.

You didn’t notice your friends' stares, only the presence beside you. When you turned, you found Axel wearing his Iron Dragons jacket, his hair slightly messy.

"Aren’t you bored standing here alone?" he asked in his usual relaxed tone.

"I’m not alone," you murmured, gripping your water bottle. "My friends are here."

Axel smirked. "But they’re not here."

You shot him a shy glance before looking away. It was incredible how Axel, who had a reputation for being cold and serious, relaxed so much when talking to you.

"It was a good tournament," you finally said.

"It was. Especially because I got to see you fight."

Your cheeks warmed, your heart beating faster.

"Thanks…"

Axel ran a hand through his hair, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Do you want to get out of here? It’s a little… loud."

You nodded, and the two of you slipped away from the crowd, unaware of your friends' knowing looks.

The night air was cool, and the hotel’s pool reflected the city lights. You leaned against the railing while Axel rested beside you.

"I didn’t think you were this quiet."

"I didn’t think you were this talkative," you replied, glancing at him.

Axel chuckled. "Only when I want to impress someone."

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

"And who do you want to impress?"

Axel let out a low laugh before leaning slightly toward you.

"I think you already know."

Your breath caught in your throat. Axel didn’t look away, his closeness making you feel trapped in the best possible way.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Your response was barely a whisper.

"Yes…"

There were no more words. Axel pulled you in, his hands firm on your waist as his lips claimed yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly turned deeper. His hands slid down your back as yours clung to his jacket.

The kiss grew more intense, his body pressing gently against yours against the railing. His lips moved with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

To be honest, so had you.

"Well, well, well…"

Hawk’s voice made you both break apart instantly. When you turned, you saw Miguel, Robby, Sam, and several others watching you with triumphant smiles.

"I knew it was gonna happen!" Miguel exclaimed.

"We should start matchmaking as a business," Sam added.

Robby placed a hand on your shoulder with an amused smile. "How does it feel knowing we just created the best couple of the tournament?"

Still catching your breath, you glanced at Axel, who gave you a knowing smile.

"I guess it’s official," he said. "I’m now the luckiest guy in the Sekai Taikai."

And with your heart racing wildly, you couldn’t help but smile too.

After your friends' embarrassing (but inevitable) discovery, Axel intertwined his fingers with yours and whispered in your ear, "Let’s go somewhere else."

Your skin tingled at his low, husky voice, and though your cheeks burned, you nodded silently.

You walked through the hotel hallways until you reached his room. Axel slid his key card and pushed the door open, letting you step in first. You had barely taken a few steps when you heard the door close behind you and the click of the lock.

You turned to face him, and in less than a second, Axel was standing right in front of you.

"Tell me you want this," he murmured, his warm breath brushing your lips.

Your heart pounded, but the look in his eyes ignited something inside you.

"Yes," you whispered.

That was all he needed.

His lips crashed onto yours with pent-up hunger, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, his touch setting your skin on fire.

You walked backward until the back of your legs hit the bed. Axel took the opportunity to lean over you, his lips trailing a burning path along your jaw and down your neck.

"I’ve always wanted to do this," he murmured against your skin, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, and he understood immediately. With a smirk, he pulled it off effortlessly, revealing his toned torso. His dark eyes roamed over you before he kissed you again, this time with an intensity that made it clear he had no intention of stopping.

His fingers found the buckle of your belt and unfastened it without hesitation, sliding your pants down. His hands traveled back up your thighs and stopped at the edge of your panties.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his warm breath brushing against your ear. Do you want this?

"Yes..." you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open under the fire of his gaze.

With a deep sound of satisfaction, Axel lay down and took off his pants and boxers, revealing his erection.

And when he approached again, his gaze left no doubt about his intentions. His fingers removed your shirt and bra in seconds, and soon both of you were completely naked in bed, with your bodies pressed against each other.

"Tell me I'm being careful," he said, his voice trembling with anticipation.

"You are" you whispered. "And don't stop".

The smile he gave you was so erotic that your thighs clenched tightly.

With one hand, Axel opened your legs, his fingers moving over your body. He brought you to his lips and kissed you in a place you had only dreamed he would kiss. And when his tongue emerged, the pleasure was so intense that your hips lifted off the bed uncontrollably.

"Axel…" you moaned, arching your hips in response.

The deep laugh he gave you was the perfect response. His lips and tongue devoted themselves to pampering you in that place until you felt your muscles tense. And before you could reach climax, his lips crashed against yours again, savoring the essence of your own pleasure.

"Ready?" he whispered between kisses.

"Yes... Yes..."

Axel took the time to look for a condom on his nightstand and put it on.

And with a softness you didn't expect, Axel entered you.

The pleasure was indescribable. They both moaned at the same time, your body trembling around his erection. The penetration was slow, his body moving inside until it stopped with the tip of his fingers against your navel.

"Mmm…" he murmured. "This is incredible".

And before you had the chance to respond, it started moving.

Each thrust was deep, both of them gasping every time their hips collided with yours. His fingers encircled your breasts, teasing them while his erection brushed against a spot inside you that sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

The combination of pleasure and intensity was more than you could bear. With a muffled scream, you felt the climax approaching, and Axel needed nothing more to give you permission to reach pleasure. The sensation was so intense that your eyes closed uncontrollably, your body tensing around him.

Axel gasped, his fingers gripping your nipples tightly before quickening his movements. The pleasure grew between the two of you until Axel gasped with a deep sound, his body trembling over yours.

They both stayed like that, panting and smiling, their bodies still connected to each other.

Finally, Axel slid to the side, but without moving too far away from you. He cradled you in his arms and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before murmuring:

"I'm glad it happened".

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. Axel had always been mysterious, but in this moment, he was just a normal guy, satisfied with his conquest.

And you didn't care about that. In fact, you felt like you had found your own trophy. After all, Axel Kovacevic was the most successful guy at Sekai Taikai, but you had been the first to conquer him. And, as you had imagined so many times, you had turned out to be his perfect reward.

The celebration would last beyond the Sekai Taikai. And with his arm around your waist, you knew Axel wouldn't let you go so easily.

You had conquered him.

And he had also won you over.

Soon you start to feel exhausted, and your breathing begins to calm down.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Axel whispers, his voice soft and calm.

"Yes. Why not?" you murmur, smiling.

"Because, as far as I know, all our friends are in the same hotel. And I would like to spend a little more time here, with the most incredible guy at the Sekai Taikai..."

Axel caresses your cheek with his fingers, and you smile against his chest.

"That sounds perfect".

And the two of them stayed like that, embraced, enjoying the silence until they fell into a deep sleep.

The morning sun filtered through the hotel curtains as you woke up, feeling a warm weight around your waist. You blinked and turned your head slightly, finding Axel still asleep beside you, his arm wrapped around you possessively.

The memory of the previous night made heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened.

Carefully, you slid his arm away and got out of bed, fumbling for your clothes. You managed to get dressed and, with your heart pounding, opened the door to his room, praying no one would see you sneaking back to yours.

You weren’t that lucky.

“There you are!”

You froze. In front of you stood Miguel, Robby, Sam, and Hawk, their expressions ranging from relief to pure amusement.

“Where were you last night?” Sam asked, crossing her arms.

“You worried us,” Robby added, though his tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Wait, wait…” Hawk narrowed his eyes, then glanced down at your slightly rumpled clothes, your hair a bit messier than usual, and the guilty expression on your face. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Miguel caught on instantly, his hands flying to his head. “Are you…?!”

Your face burned. “N-No…” You tried to deny it, but the way Hawk and Miguel exchanged looks before bursting into laughter didn’t help at all.

“Oh my God, this is the best thing that’s ever happened,” Hawk said between laughs. “Axel? It has to be Axel!”

“AXEL?!” Robby’s eyes widened before he adopted his protective older-brother stance. “What the hell?”

“We knew this would happen sooner or later!” Sam grinned victoriously, as if this confirmed her matchmaking skills.

“Guys, shut up!” you protested, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

“Why?” Miguel asked with a teasing smile. “Are you afraid Axel will hear us?”

At that very moment, the door behind you opened, and a large hand rested on the frame.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone fell silent as Axel appeared, his hair tousled, shirtless, and looking utterly confused. His eyes landed on you and then on the others, and as soon as he put the pieces together, he let out a small scoff.

“Seriously?”

Hawk was the first to break the silence with a dramatic scream. “I KNEW IT!!”

Miguel and Sam burst into laughter immediately, while Robby groaned, rubbing his face in exasperation.

“I’m going to kill you,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at Axel.

“Too late,” Axel replied with a smirk before casually wrapping an arm around you, leaning against you as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s official now.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I guess everyone knows now…”

“And we’ll never forget it!” Hawk declared, pulling out his phone. “I need to document this moment.”

“NO!”

And with that, the entire group erupted in laughter while you buried your face in Axel’s chest, unsure whether to laugh along or die of embarrassment.

But when he pressed a quick kiss to your hair, you knew that, in the end, it was all worth it.

Best Friends Club

summary: prompt fill. Wally's been your best friend since the Grade 4 puppet show. a disaster that brought you together for life. only now, years later and months away from graduation, Wally needs to get something off his chest. he just...didn't exactly plan to do it this way... (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. friends to lovers. protective behavior. AU. silliness & fluff. Simon and Wally are bros (fight me).

bon reading, frens

___________________________☄️

Best Friends Club

Wally's chatting with Maddie and Charley before school, has his arm around your shoulders as you focus on your phone, laughing and joking and smiling wide until:

"Holy crap, Jake Tremblay just asked me to go out Friday," You announce, pretty eyes wide, blinking in shock at everyone.

Wally goes still, smile sliding off his face as his stomach drops and his heart ups and lodges itself in his throat. God, this hurts.

See, the thing is, you're Wally's best friend. And while he has his arm around you—is always reaching for you, hand on your back, arm, shoulder, whatever—it's never been anything but friendly. Best friendly. Because you and he are f r i e n d s. And it sucks. Royally.

Why? Yeah, no one needs three guesses to figure out that Wally's been in love with you since Grade 4. That massacre of a puppet show the kids put on for their parents during Spirit Week. You and Wally spent the entire performance using sock puppets to have a dialogue about who'd win in a fight: Goku or Sailor Moon. Didn't even notice the blood vessel about to pop in Mr. Toast's temple when things really started to spiral.

Wally only comes down to earth when you say his name for what must not be the first time, everyone's eyes on him. Yours, especially, beautiful and concerned as you stare at him expectantly.

"What was that?" He asks, feeling simultaneously dumb and unable to function.

You repeat, "I asked you what I should say..." and turn to face him fully. Still close enough that your body heat soaks through his hoodie. Fuck, how can he say anything negative when you're giving him that sweet, earnest expression? Seeking advice from someone you trust implicitly.

Against his better judgment—or maybe for it—Wally slaps on a smile and says, "Yeah. You should go for it."

This isn't the first time you've been asked out. Of course, those last few times you didn't look so keen on accepting the offer. When you turn back to your phone, Wally's face immediately falls. He doesn't look at Maddie or Charley, can't handle the pity he knows he'll see in their eyes.

Everyone in the circle knows about Wally's crush on you (fuck, it's so much more than that), but apart from insisting he talk to you, no one points it out. You're the only one who hasn't caught on, Nicole having informed Wally that you giggled over popcorn, what are you talking about? Wally's always like that, when everyone was at the APEX for a midnight screening of some scary movie Wally couldn't have cared less about.

And, sure, Wally is 'always like that': Goofy, charming, flirtatious; standing in line at concessions for you and holding your bag when you go to the bathroom... What you don't seem to grasp is that Wally isn't like that with anyone else. And now you're saying 'yes' to Jake Tremblay and Wally has to muster the strength not to punch a wall.

‗•‗

Simon closes his locker only to jolt backwards. Wally appeared out of the fucking ether, what the hell? He has his forehead pressed against the locker beside Simon's, shoulders slumped, looking all-in-all miserable to exist.

"Yoouu okay?" Simon ventures, raising a brow.

Slowly, Wally turns his head and nothing else, eyes puppy-dog sad and lower lip pursed in a pout, "No." And then, after turning to face the locker again, "She said yes to Jake Tremblay."

"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, talk. to. her." Simon says like a mother insisting Wally clean his room.

Pointed, "Oh, you mean like you talked to Maddie?"

Simon takes a moment to reevaluate his life before, in a placid, neutral tone, declares, "I regret this friendship."

"No you don't." Wally says, but he's still glooming into the locker. "What do I do?"

"Aside from talk to her?" Simon shrugs helplessly. How's he supposed to know? He and Wally have been paddling the same sinking boat for approximately the same number of years. "Do you...wanna threaten Jake?" Simon asks in a pitch similar to that used when asking children if they want to go for ice cream after a tantrum.

Wally seems to seriously consider it but glumly decides, "No. I want her to be happy." A heavy sigh. "Even if it's not with me."

"This isn't going to make you some kind of martyr, you know."

"I know."

Simon doesn't think Wally does know, but fine, he'll play along. "Maybe it'll go so bad that she swears off dating forever."

"A guy can dream," Wally mumbles as he straightens, and, Jesus, he looks like every kitten in the world just got launched at the sun and he was forced to watch.

Simon can see beneath Wally's utter despair to the gears turning in his brain. Can sense what ill-advised plan Wally is cooking up (because this isn't the first time he's done something stupid to ensure you're safe). In an effort to, a) avoid criminal charges and, b) make Wally feel better:

"What if I happen to be in the same place at the same time? I could keep an eye on things for you." Simon suggests and he already wishes he didn't say anything.

Wally brightens, "You'd do that for me?"

"Apparently..." Simon says, questioning himself. "Look, better me than you, right? Otherwise, it'll be exactly what it is and she'll never talk to you again."

"Why? What would it be if I do it?"

"Stalking, Wally," Simon states as he heads into History, Wally at his heels.

"Hey!" Wally protests, "It's not like that!"

Taking his seat, Simon just gives Wally a pointed stare, "Buddy, I know you read those BookTok romances, but following your BFF on her date with another dude isn't a romantic gesture. It's creepy a-f."

"But...you'll do it for me?" Wally wants to confirm, his eyes all wide and pleading.

Simon sighs, thinking this is a terrible idea, but seeing Wally so sad breaks Simon's heart and he can't bring himself to take back the offer. "...Apparently."

‗•‗

Friday comes. It's all you've been talking about since Monday and Wally has had it up to here with Jake This and Jake That, and if he hears one. more. thing. about Jake, Wally's going to burst into a million pieces of ragehate and take the whole school with him.

But he smiles and nods and teases you like he would in any other situation, bumping your ass with his hip when he finds you bent over at your locker at lunch. You don't even need to look to know it's him, simply continue to shove your backpack in your locker and grab your jean jacket.

"Diner?" You give him a sunshine smile that Wally returns, almost forgetting about your date and Jake and how you're not actually Wally's girlfriend.

Not in this lifetime, his brain reminds him bluntly.

His blood stings.

Over lunch at the diner down the street, you outline exactly what Jake has planned. Dinner at the Italian place beside the Arcade (it's fucking Olive Garden, Jake, do better) and then—Jesus, really?!—stargazing on the roof of the old cigarette factory. An organized thing. The planets will be in some kind of super rare alignment or something, and local enthusiasts have banded together to share their telescopes.

"No offense, but since when do you care about the planets?" Wally wonders as he dips his fries into your ketchup.

You shrug, "I mean, it's something to do, right? And you're always telling me to 'branch out and try new things, dorkface'," You exaggerate the last part in a parody of Wally's voice before continuing as yourself, "so, why not astronomy?"

"Because it's outside and you hate outside things before May." Wally chuckles and shakes his head, "You're gonna get cold and complain and steal Jake's hoodie like you've stolen five of mine."

Wally loathed the idea of you stealing another guy's anything, but he smiles through the jealousy. Perhaps a little too intent on smearing more fries through your ketchup as his knee bumps the underside of the table in quick, nervous intervals.

Oh, he is not doing well.

He instantly notices how you've gone still, how you're studying his expression, words, behavior like a zoologist at the gorilla enclosure because Wally can't fucking keep his cool when he's forced to think about you being cozy and cute for someone who isn't him-shaped.

Wally keeps his eyes on his plate for a few moments; long enough that you gracefully change the subject and ask Wally what his plans are for tonight. As if they don't involve hanging out with his phone while he obsessively waits for Simon's updates throughout the course of your date.

"Nothing special," He says, patting himself on the back for keeping his voice even, "just hanging out at home."

‗•‗

It's 8:43PM when Wally's phone lights up with a call. As promised, Simon kept Wally abreast of every. single. thing. you and Jake did on your date. From flirty conversation over unlimited breadsticks to shifting to one side of the booth to split dessert.

It's only been an hour and a half since you and Jake were seated. What on earth could Simon have to tell him that couldn't be texted?

"Don't freak out—" Wally promptly freaks out "—but something happened."

Wally shoots up in bed, where he's been whiling away since he got home from school, and is immediately on alert. Heart pounding, blood pumping, ready for war.

"What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Oh. She's fine." Simon reports. He sounds like he's hiding, voice a harsh whisper just loud enough for Wally to hear. "Jake might be in a permanent body cast for the rest of his life, but she's totally fine."

Wally breathes a sigh of relief, although he's still confused, "What happened?"

Simon clears his throat, "She's probably going to call you in, like, a minute, so you have to act...just...be cool, okay?" And then, finally, he reveals, "Jake tried to stick his hand under her skirt. And I mean, he went for it. Full grope from behind."

At that moment, Wally sees fucking r e d. He's off the phone and in his car faster than a bullet, tearing out of his parents' driveway with a screech. Burns rubber around every corner; breaks several traffic laws; and pulls up just as you're about to get into an Uber. There's no sign of Jake. Unfortunate, since Wally has a surplus of adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and the only cure is beating the guy's face to a fucking pulp.

You look confused for all of a second before your face crumples. Wally gets out of the driver's seat and hurries toward you. Gathers you in his arms as soon as you're within reach, and holds you as you shake. He rubs your back, soothes you with soft words; managing to simultaneously shoo the Uber driver away with a polite nod and a gesture.

"Are you okay?" He asks after a minute. "Do I need to kill him?"

"...No," You mumble into Wally's chest. "I already did that."

Wally grins, though it's sad at its edges. You shouldn't have had to.

"That's my girl," He murmurs into your hair after he places a comforting kiss on your head. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

You go without resistance, even allowing Wally to fuss over you and buckle you in. As he settles behind the wheel, he glances at you again and realizes, "Whose jacket is that?"

You press your lips together and stare at your lap, "I got cold... Besides, after what he did, I think I earned it." You end firmly, crossing your arms.

"Did you take it before or after you kicked his ass?"

"After, duh." You say like it's so obvious, "We were inside before. But I didn't want to wait for my Uber in front of everyone who saw what happened. So...I made him give it to me."

Wally barks a laugh as he takes your hand, holding it in that platonic way, fingers not laced how he wants them to be, but he'll take what he can get. Your knuckles are raw where they made impact with whatever part of Jake you punched. Wally smooths the pad of his thumb over them. Gentle. Loving.

"Where to, sweetcheeks?" He asks, "Home or ice cream?"

"Home." You decide with finality which makes it hard to swallow around the lump of disappointment in Wally's throat.

Call him selfish, but he hoped you'd want to let him comfort you. Regardless, he does as he's told and pulls away from the curb, pulling a uey to head toward your house.

‗•‗

On Monday, Wally finds Jake in the boys' locker room after swim practice, his black eye looking like it needs a twin. Wally punches Jake hard enough that even he sees circling birdies.

He shakes out his hand as he leaves without a word, hardly feeling the pain through the smug satisfaction warming his belly.

‗•‗

It's the next weekend when you invite Wally over for a casual afternoon kick back. I need Best Friend Time, you said, all adorable and gloomy, wanting to put all thoughts of ever dating again behind you (thanks for putting that out there, Simon, you da man!). Wally's in, of course he is, on the road as soon as you hang up.

Your parents are having a late lunch with friends a town over, so it'll be just you and him for a while. Games and snacks and Domino's on the menu for dinner. When you answer the door for him, you've got some of that sunshine glow back in your eyes, your smile making Wally's heart flutter.

You lead him to the basement, everything already set up: coffee table pushed aside for the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, bags of gummy worms and twizzlers (Wally's favorite) and those Canadian chips you like in a pile beside cans of Dr. Pepper and Coke Zero.

Wally wore his cleanest sweatpants for the occasion, matching your chill vibe. And damn those low-slung yoga pants and that fucking tight-as-sin tank top, no bra because you love to drive Wally crazy.

"Ready to have your ass handed to you again?" You joke as you get comfortable on your side of the nest.

Wally claps back, "Hah! You haven't won in three months, sugarlips, what makes you think today's the day?"

You just smirk and hand Wally a controller, "I have a plan." And that's all there is to it. You don't elaborate, don't hint, don't give Wally any indication whatsoever what this plan might be.

Fishy...but effective. You're already in Wally's head. Hmm, maybe that's the plan? Wally shakes himself to attention and starts the game, grinning like a shark as he gets the lead right off the bat.

Just as he's about to cross the finish line, "So much for your pla—" the world suddenly tilts sideways. He can't finish his thought, barreled over by your weight crashing into him as you grab the controller right out of his hand.

You squeal victoriously, the sound rebooting his brain, and he realizes what just happened.

"Hey!" He tries to grab the controller, but you hold it up and away from him, big smile on your face as the screen announces Wally's demise. "Not fair!" He wraps his arms around you and flips you onto your back; presses his weight into you as he uses the advantage of his longer limbs to snatch the controller back.

Apparently not taking this lying down, you band your legs around his waist then surge up, somehow summoning the strength of five Wallys to roll him onto his back again. Stunned, he stares up at you as you wave the controller victoriously.

"You were saying?" You chuckle, smug as ever, slightly out of breath.

Oh, but Wally isn't done yet, miss ma'am. He snaps his hands up, clamping his fingers for the controller which you arch your back to hold away from him, crying out when he takes advantage of your off-balance position to knock you backward. Once more, he has you squirming beneath him.

He grabs one wrist and then the other, transferring both into the grip of one of his large hands while he plucks the controller from you with the other. That's about the moment he realizes, uh-oh, he can feel your breath on his lips. Your face is such a beautiful shade of pink, and your thighs are on either side of his hips. Wally's body is completely flush against yours. All of him. Every. Last little bit. of him.

Wally should move. Definitely. He should move right now; just get off you and pretend everything's normal and you're not gazing up at him like that and his lips aren't so fucking close to yours, and the air hasn't been sucked out of the room that no longer exists around you and him because there's only you and only him and fuck. Shit.

"Wally~?" You say, voice a whisper tinged with something that makes Wally's cock twitch. Heat, maybe. Or need. You swallow, the sound audible, and, oh fuck, Wally watches your eyes flicker to his mouth then back, like you're finally on the same page, like you want it, too.

His hand flexes around your wrists, body settling more firmly on yours, and he stares at your face as he rocks his hips, just once, experimental, just to see what you'll do. He knows you can feel him, stiff and hardening further, all his inches against the heat of your pussy through your thin as fuck yoga pants.

Your reaction almost explodes Wally's brain. That sweet little whimper, how your eyes glaze over and your lips part; how you mimic the action with one of your own, sending sparks of electricity through Wally's nervous system.

"Fuck," He chokes out, grip loosening around your wrists, but not letting go. He drops the controller. Instead uses that hand to brush his fingers across your cheek and down the slope of your jaw. His breath mingles with yours, the heat in him rises, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest. Is he really going to do this?

"Please," You say, so soft, so perfect, that, yes, Wally is absolutely going to do this.

He gently bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiles in wonder that this is really about to happen, and then slowly, to give you a chance to turn away if you don't want this, he leans in, stopping only to tease, "One more time, princess." His voice low and husky.

He feels you tense and then release before whispering, "Please, Wally..."

That's all he needs to lean in and kiss you for the first time, his lips capturing yours with years of hunger and desire and fucking love. So much love it threatens to go nuclear if Wally doesn't share the burden right this minute.

He moans, grinds his hips against yours, his cock throbbing against you, God, he needs you so badly. Has needed you so badly since he first discovered how his dick works and probably even before then. He lets his hand roam down down down, then up under your tank top, fingers caressing the soft shape of your breast.

You keen and arch into the touch, and, holy shit, he can't do this slow. Next time—please Jesus, let there be a next time—he'll do this right. He'll do candles and rose petals and Barry Manilow, but right now, he has to know what it feels like when you come around his cock.

His kisses turn urgent, his movements more hungry, and you match his crazy like a mirror. His shirt first, thrown behind the TV, then yours, tossed somewhere near the coffee table. Wally takes a second to admire your bare chest, licks his lips, and then descends, starving for a taste. He sucks your nipple, twirls his tongue around it, moaning as if it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth.

Which, as soon as he peels your yoga pants off and resituates himself between your spread-wide thighs, he knows isn't true. This is the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. He spears it in and out of you, moaning and panting as he kisses your pussy deeply, brings one, two fingers into the mix; pumping into you over and over until you shake and beg and arch so fucking pretty for him.

"Fuck, baby, I need to feel you come," He groans, shoving his sweatpants and boxers off and throwing them somewhere to find later.

You agree enthusiastically, reaching for him as you hook one leg over his hip, the other over his shoulder—Goddamn, were you always this bendy!?—and cry out like a heavenly chorus when he drives his cock into you. Fuck, God, his eyes roll back in his skull, it's the most incredible feeling, an indescribable euphoria flushing through him from scalp to soles.

"You feel so...big, Wally, oh my god," You gasp when he begins to move, and doesn't that just rub his ego the right way?

He genuinely can't even find the brain cells to reply, too busy losing himself to the sensation of being inside you, finally, so much more intense than any and every fantasy he's had of you and him entwined like this.

"Baby," He moans, hips pumping faster, fat tip hitting your sweet spot over and over and over until he feels you tighten around him, hears you gasp, and then moan in ecstasy.

He wishes he could last, that he could keep going until you come again, again, again, but he's waited so long for this and it's overwhelming, he can't do it. With one, two, three more quick thrusts, Wally tenses and then groans, grinding his release into you; leaning down to take your lips in a feverish kiss.

As you and he recover, he rests his forehead against yours, releases your wrists—oops—and cradles your face in one hand, his most precious girl a vision in the afterglow. You shift, your hands on his jaw, and you're looking at him like the sun, moon, and stars.

"How long?" You eventually ask.

Wally doesn't need you to clarify. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Grade 4."

He watches you absorb the information, nod, and then your eyes meet his when you make your own confession, "Grade 3. Ms. Houette's class. You made a joke about seagulls that was so lame it was funny."

Wally about short-circuits. He begs your finest pardon, but what was that? "Grade...3?"

"Grade 3."

"...are you saying that I could've been loving on you—" He emphasizes with a roll of his hips, winces from oversensitivity, "—since before I even understood what that meant?"

"I'm saying I've had a big, stupid crush on you since Grade 3." You say, innocent and solemn, "You take that however you want."

Wally chooses to forego the existential crisis and simply enjoy that he has you under him. There's a lot of time to make up for and a lot of fantasies Wally wants to bring to life, which you and he do with gusto until your parents get home and call down a hello.

Later, after redressing in a tornado and greeting your parents face-to-face; after stammered updates and weak conversation; after retreating to the basement to watch a movie and cuddle—Lord, you feel so good in Wally's arms, he never wants to let you go.

After all that, during a lull in the movie, you finally ask, "So, are you going to tell me how you knew what happened with Jake before I told you?" And you prop your chin on his chest, looking up at him with amusement.

Wally gulps, facing the screen as he desperately tries to come up with a feasible answer. Nothing comes to mind, though, so he's stuck offering:

"Uuuh...?"

You sit back, on your knees between his legs, and raise a brow, "I know Simon was there. You can tell him that Groucho glasses do not a disguise make."

Sheepish, "He's a good bro...?"

"A very good bro," You agree primly, "A bro who stalks one of his best friend's other best friend because...?"

Now Wally knows he has to tell you. He sits up himself, hands finding your waist, eyes earnest and sweet as he admits, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't know anything about Jake and you never let me vet any of the guys you go out with—"

"Yes. All three of them." You say flatly, rolling your eyes.

"One, three, five, doesn't matter, baby, I always wanted to make sure they were good enough for you..."

"So, did you make Simon follow me and Dan to the movie last year?" You wonder.

Wally glances away, guilt muddling his expression.

"...Did you follow me and Dan to the movie last year?"

"If I say no, will you believe me and let me cuddle you some more?"

Your jaw drops, eyes round, and for a second, Wally's sure he's about to get the boot. Not just from your house, but from the Best Friends Club altogether. He's already mourning the loss of your touch when you abruptly burst into laughter, crashing into him like you did before, only this time a lot gentler.

You nuzzle your face into his neck and then kiss his face all over, grinning down at him with the same beautiful smile you always give him.

"You're not mad?"

You shake your head, "I made Xavier come with me to that football game you took Melissa to last fall..."

Gobsmacked, Wally blurts, "You hate sports," since it's entirely relevant to how you stalked him as much as he stalked you on dates neither of you wanted the other to be on.

"I don't hate sports. I like sports. I hate all the pauses and the time outs and the—"

Wally cuts you off with a kiss, at first just a stamp of lips to lips but slowly melting into something softer, deeper, more heated.

Wally pulls back a fraction to say, "I love you, babygirl," looking deep into your eyes. One hand on your hip, the other in your hair, releasing a long, shaky breath as he waits for you to say something.

Finally, a smile spreads across your face and you kiss him again, short and sweet and meaningful.

"I love you, too, Wally Clark." Then, completely off-topic and far less romantic: "Do you wanna come with me when I stalk Simon's date for Maddie?"

Tires screech as Wally's brain comes to a full stop. Sorry, what was that? "Wait, Mads wants you to follow Simon?"

"Oh yeah, she's liked him for ages, but he never seems interested so...you know...she doesn't wanna risk the friendship."

"Jesus Christ." Wally looks at you, totally serious when he sighs with the exasperation of an ignored parent, "You know, I've told him, like, a thousand times to just talk to her." A helpless shrug, "He never listens."

‗•‗

Several days later, when you aren't looking, Wally steals the jacket you stole from Jake. Does terrible things to it before throwing it in Jake's face the following day.

Wally replaces the jacket with his letterman and has never been prouder of himself when he sees you slip it on without question.

fin.

☄️___________________________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.

a cutie-smut-lite oneshot wherein Wally wants to celebrate your birthday away from Split River. Because he can.

this is gonna live rent free in my head for the foreseeable future btw!!

double-crossed — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, open wounds mentioned, violence depicted, anger issues depicted, sexually explicit content, unprotected sex, aggressive sex, rafe is soft, reader is even softer — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: you despised him as much as he despised you. to him, you were nothing but a traitor to your people. you were a threat to him, he had finally met his match, but in their time of need, it's amazing who people turn to.

✧.*

the beach bonfire burned the brightest in the cut. where the waves were stronger and the sun was more intense. the lack of money was made up to you by the abundance of friends and peace. nobody really needed the money—that was what they lived by. all money did was make life easier, but life wasn't supposed to be easy. life's a bitch, until you make it your bitch.

“you're thinkin' real hard, ma, what's on your mind?” on the dock, there was a good view of the sun setting. everyone was tucked away, and the air's crisp. the sky was tinted with orange and blue, fading into the rippling sea. jj sat next to you as you lost track of time, lost track of yourself, eyes glued to what was in front of you.

“gonna kill him when i see him,” your voice was flat, monotone. jj frowned, the corners of his mouth tipping downward. it would have been easier on him if he knew you were joking, but he knew you weren't. “won't have any fuckin' parts left to bury.”

you could handle the threats and tension, but rafe cameron had crossed a line when he put his hands on pope. pope, who had done the least amount of provoking out of everybody. you hadn't been there when he had gotten jumped, and it pained you deeply. you were always ready, however. what you needed was some alone time with rafe, to get him in order your way.

“your hands are all fucked up.” jj commented, signalling to the various cuts and bruises that littered the knuckles on your fists. you brushed it off, much like everything. the walls in your room were stained with crimson—it'd taken the help of cleo, jj and kiara to hold and calm you down. kiara and sarah sent you out to recollect yourself, while they spent their time rubbing the blood out of your walls.

everybody was worried, there was no denying it. you could be more aggressive than you needed, but nobody could get used to it. ever since your parents disowned you, left you out of their will—you left home, left one side just to end up in the cut. you were alone, had no money, no family, no years of independence or experience. you still made something of yourself, found the love in your heart to call yourself a proud pogue. rafe was the first to call you a traitor, spending every moment in your presence unleashing empty threats and insults. you didn't care about rafe, you didn't care about anyone, not even yourself. you just needed to get your shit done.

“he's not worth it, (y/n),” it was unlike jj to say something of the sort—he relied primarily on instinct and nothing else. no thought, no thinking of the consequences. pure reflexes. “let him get himself fucking killed.” you didn't answer him, the sound of the waves filling in the silence. it was exactly what you were gonna do, you were gonna let him get fucking killed.

in the comfort of your own home, you found peace. it was a simple atmosphere, with the beat-down trailer park making no impression on the outside. the inside was what mattered, the warmth spreading through you as you rolled up your blinds, exposing the moonlight that embraced your skin gracefully. the air that passed through the cracked window was cool, refreshing. you retrieved a beer bottle from the fridge, the cool air grazing your bare legs as you kicked your legs over the sofa, spreading yourself out before slamming the cap of the bottle against the table's edge.

you ran a hand through your freshly-dried hair, wincing as the cheap fabric of the couch grazed your sunburnt bits. it was hot, despite the pinch of cool air, despite your lack of clothes. you were in nothing but one of jj's shirts, your panties underneath. the first buzz of dopamine hot you like a truck as you took a swig of beer, cold and invigorating. the television screen hummed with lights, volume at a bare minimum. you had soon began to regret your decision as the sound of weight against wood began to fill your ears.

your head spun towards the source of the sound, your front door locked, just a few feet away from your sofa. you rolled your eyes at the sound of the pounding, audible heavy breathing on the other side. “son of a motherfucker.” you snatched the blade sitting on the edge of your table, tucking it neatly into your underwear before pacing towards the door.

the sound of soft grunts were heard from the other side, but you had no way of making out who it was. with a steady hand, you prepared yourself, carefully unlocking the door before grabbing onto the handle, pulling with a quick flick of your wrist.

to make a miracle happen, you had to believe in them. to make a calamity happen, you had to be yourself. “you're fucking kidding.” he had his hands up, as if to say, “don't hurt me, i'm not armed,” but you couldn't take any chances, not while rafe cameron was standing on your porch in the middle of the night. you clutched your blade in one hand, using the other to disregard his stance of defeat. “no no no, (y/n)—” you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt as you pulled him into your house, past the steps of the porch. the back of his head hit your wall as you kicked the door closed and, in a matter of seconds, you had your elbow pushing down on his chest, the knife against his throat.

“(y/n), please,” he panted, straining against your touch. you shook your head, glaring at him. “not a chance, rafe,” you hissed. he closed his eyes shut, his breathing almost irregular. “give me one good reason as to why i shouldn't gut you right fucking now.”

he had no reliable answer, no good one, at least. he stayed quiet, with the knife pressing into his throat, for a good while. you watched his hands fly back up once more, the pressure you held him down with slowly loosening as he signalled to his shirt. it was torn up, stained with fresh blood. you stared at the mess, before returning his desperate gaze. “please, (y/n).”

hesitantly, you retracted the blade from his skin, letting it drop to the floor. you could tell the blood was fresh, watching the way it spresd throughout the white material of his shirt. your fingertips slid down his chest, aiming to grab ahold of the shirt's hem. you watched him, as if awaiting his approval—he nodded carefully.

the shirt was slick with blood, practically having to be peeled off his skin. he winced, stiffling a grunt of excruciating pain as you slid the shirt further up his chest, holding it down with one hand. you used the other hand to examine the situation. he had been shot. that's what it looked like, at least. the blood was constant, the wound very much open. your breath hitched as you met his gaze once more, his eyes fluttering, as if he was ready to give out at any moment.

“shit, rafe, i got you,” you wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, your arm around his waist as you helped him walk towards the sofa. “jesus, fuck.” carefully, you sat him down, making sure he wouldn't cinch the wound. he let out a cry he failed to hold back as you helped him position himself, laying him onto his back.

it was a compromising, unexpected situation. you weren't exactly sure of what to do, whether you should've been calling jj or john b or, anybody, really. all you really knew was, in that moment, you had no rage to hold onto. you were concerned, and you had wished it was for your white sofa, and not the man bleeding onto it.

“what happened, rafe?” he shook his head, leaning it back as you listened. while he talked, you paced into the kitchen, frantically grabbing onto what you thought you'd need. rags, water, rubbing alcohol. you knew you had a medical kit in there somewhere, you just had to find it. “came by the cut, couldn't sleep. shit on my mind,” you hurried back to him, setting what you had found aside. you watched the wound swell with blood before taking one of your clean kitchen rags and placing it directly onto the source, applying as much pressure as possible. “got shot on the deck, didn't know where else to go.”

you scoffed as you positioned your fingers, putting weight onto his wound. it didn't seem too deep, but the bullet had to have been lodged in there. “could've called the hospital instead of comon' here.” he wiped his face with his hands, nodding, as if he was sorry. “i know, i just,” he paused, looking for the right words. “something told me to come here, y'know?”

you didn't question it, you weren't sure if you wanted to. you retracted the fully-stained rag, setting it aside before replacing it with another one. the aim was to soak up all the excess blood, stop the bleeding for a bit. once it had been soaked up, all that was left were the streaks of it trailing down his navel. “don't move,” you ordered, leaving him to go back for the medical kit. on the way back, as well as forth, you thought about what you were really doing. you had a chance, one to finish him off. you had the opportunity to avenge everyone—sarah, john b, pope. everybody, but you had no leverage. no rage left to hold onto, at least, not then. not while he was vulnerable.

“thanks for taking me in, i'm really sorry.” you set your kit aside, opening it to reveal neat arrays of medicine, shots, epi pens, and such. “don't thank me yet, this'll sting real bad,” you warned as you pulled out a packet of cotton pads. he gulped as he watched you—he couldn't look away, for whatever reason. you dampened the pads with the rubbing alcohol you had brought earlier. to your surprise, rafe's fingers had weakly latched onto your shirt, holding as he braced himself.

“king kook can't take the heat, what a surprise,” you laughed teasingly. he rolled his eyes, purposely retracting his touch. “you really should hold on, it'll burn.” you were right. because, the minute the pad came into contact with his wound, he found himself pulling at your shirt once more, a string of curses following.

the more you strived to disinfect it, the more the pain dialed down. you were careful to use gentle hands, wiping away as you circled his wound before finally discarding it. “you okay?” he nodded, his grip loosening as he let out a sigh of relief. he didn't have much time to deal with the pain, knowing there was only more to follow.

“rafe, i really need you to trust me now.” to extract the bullet, you needed a steady mind as much as steady hands. if you were to hit an artery, an organ—it would be fatal for him. “came here for a reason, (y/n),” he laughed weakly as he leaned back, watching the way you searched for the tools you needed. “were the best nurse on the damn island. still are.”

you shared in his laughter, the need to reminisce greater than the need to resist. “remember when you scraped your knee?” he was quick to agree, looking back on the years you two had shared together as kids. “oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “you came running with your stupid kit. all you had was water and bandages, this is an improvement.” you had fixed his knee up then the way you were now.

“when'd things all get so fucked?” the laughter had dialed down as you shrugged. “probably when i became a traitor, so you like to say.”

he shook his head, as if disagreeing, despite being his statement in the first place. “nah, nah. didn't betray any of us,” he paused to clear his throat, desperately searching for your eyes. “just miss you, y'know?” you didn't know if it was the pity that tugged at your heartstrings, watching him, sick and pale on your sofa, but you felt your gaze soften. “miss you too, rafe.”

you felt him wince at the feeling of the cold, metallic tool grazing his overheated stomach. he bit his lip as he watched you. no amount of trust could make up for how afraid he really was, it could all go wrong in a matter of minutes. he knew it, and you did. you knew it—you knew it as you used your left hand to reach for him, the atmosphere shifting as he reached back, lacing his fingers through yours. he gave your hand a squeeze, as if giving you all the permission you needed to continue.

treating the wound was the easy part. working your magic, extracting the bullet. you had it wrapped up in thirty minutes, more or less. what presented an issue was rafe. you couldn't ignore the way tears slid down his cheeks, moans of pain passing his lips as he gripped your hand. he held on tight, his leaving crescents on your knuckles. you had apologized a million times, the sound of his cries burdening your heart. during the entire process, he looked like he was ready to fall unconscious at any second. you wished he had, it'd have been a lot easier.

“thank you, so much,” his voice was softer than ever as you finished stitching him up; you were ready to wrap his wound just to be careful. “i'll be out of your hair as soon as you finish, promise.” you scoffed at the idea, despite being aware of the circumstances. he was right, he should get going as soon as possible. you didn't know what it was, but whatever it was, made it impossible for you to let him leave. “yeah, sure,” he met your eyes as you cut off a piece of gauze. “stay the night, can't go anywhere like that.”

“are you sure you want a kook here, pogue?” you knew he was joking, but it didn't stop you from tying the gauze a little too tight as you shot him a glare. “this pogue just saved your life.” it was clear who had won the argument.

you helped him get comfortable, offering him a spare top and shorts. “can i ask why you have men's clothes in extra large?” you shrugged, tossing him a wife beater and cargo shorts. “it's all jj's shit,” you didn't miss the look he shot you, his eyes switching between you and the clothes in hand. “don't tell me you have a problem with pogue clothes, too.”

he shook his head as you walked into the kitchen, allowing him all the privacy he needed while you went to retrieve two beers. unfortunately, the one you had set out earlier had grown accustomed to the room temperature. “nah, nothing like that, just wondering why you have all his shit,” you heard him as you pulled the glass bottles out. when you looked back, you froze in your tracks. he had been in the middle of pulling his joggers down, replacing them with jj's shorts. you wanted to look away, you really did, but you couldn't retract your gaze. before you could, rafe cocked his head to the side, locking eyes with you as a smirk played on his lips. “nothing you haven't seen before, sweetheart.”

you scoffed, pulling your gaze away in a state of pure embarrassment. “they call it the past for a reason, asshole.” you tossed him the bottle, watching him catch it with a taunting scoff.

you allowed him as much space as he needed on the couch, sitting on the other side as you opened your bottle the same way you had done earlier. rafe watched you, an almost genuine smile on his face, “some things never change, huh?” you turned to face him with a puzzled look, taking a swig of your drink as you did so. “all the bottle openers in the world, and you've been doing that since we were twelve.”

“yeah, i've always been the creative one, haven't i?” you watched as he copied your tactic, positioning the bottle as he slammed his palm into the cap, letting it pop right off. he had bent forward in a way that let your eyes explore him whole—you watched the way the muscles in his arms flexed, eyes sternly glaring at the bottle in hand. what you had noticed before anything else was the chain wrapped around his neck. you hadn't paid much attention before, but you had a clear view of it now.

even as he laid back down, your eyes remained glued to the familiar piece of jewellry. it was old, you could tell, what was supposed to be silver had tarnished after years of being worn. it was real silver, delicate patterns tracing the shape. rafe looked at you, following your gaze before he pulled at the chain with his thumb, his lips curling into a smile. “pretty, isn't it?” you nodded, but it was just as familiar as it was pretty. “yeah, been wearing it for years.”

“feel like i've seen it before,” you finally announced. he took a sip of beer, eyebrows raised as the smile never faltered. “i'd hope so,” he murmured, earning a look of confusion from you. “it's the best gift you've ever given me.”

it had taken a while for your memory to lock in, your look of puzzled concentration faltering after a minute. as a kook, you had spent your entire childhood with rafe. until the day your parents kicked you out, you were by his side. until the day you left and became a pogue, you were his to protect. when you were thirteen, he was a year older. you remembered buying him the chain a day before his birthday, locking it around his neck the day the clock struck midnight. “you've really kept it all these years?” your voice was soft, too soft. he nodded, though hesitant. he could barely look you in the eyes. “of course i did,” as if the answer had been obvious to everyone but you. “my favorite girl gave it to me.”

the guilt that had ate away at you all those years had begun to resurface. you thought you were angry, all this time. ever since he had crossed the poor side of the island the first time after your departure—after calling you a traitor—you thought you had been harboring anger. you hadn't betrayed your people, you had betrayed him. behind his façade of a blinding fury, he was hurt. you could see it in his eyes all those years ago, and you could see it now.

“you just took off,” he continued. “went to your house and your parents said they kicked you out. did you even think to tell me? ever think about your best friend taking you in.”

the anger had begun peeking past the pain he had been keeping inside all those years. “couldn't ask that of you, rafe. i had to go.” he scoffed, no matter how honest you were being. you couldn't face him—not him, or ward, rose. none of them, not after losing all you had. it was a match made, because that day, rafe had lost all he had, too. “so, you ran? didn't tell me shit, just left me,” his voice practically broke near the end of his sentence. “you were all i had.”

for the first time in a long time, you ignored the way your head grew foggy. you ignored the way your blood boiled and heart pounded. you ignored the anger you had been training in order to save yourself of the guilt. “i'm sorry, rafe,” you had apologized. it was quiet, but only for a while.

“forgave you a long time ago,” the way he always had. not just anybody, but you.

you had begun to imagine what your life could have been like, how many things you could have prevented for rafe and yourself. you would have lost the friends you had now, but you'd have kept the boy who was always by your side. you could have spared him the pain brought onto him by ward, by everybody. the only time he mattered was when he was with you. the artificial dream was nothing but artificial.

“i should've been there,” you summed your thoughts aloud. “after everything, i should've been there for you.”

rafe shook his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he sighed. “you were the only person i wanted with me,” he admitted. his words struck a nerve, your chest growing tight at the confession. “not a day's gone by, where i haven't thought about you.”

you had spent so much of your time hating him, detesting him for the way he had grown harsh and cold. how he treated you during your hour of need, but where were you when he needed you? “if i could take it all back, you know i would.” he knew you would, in a heartbeat. the hatred was nothing but the color that stained the canvas—the canvas, grief, pain. you were both in pain, you both felt betrayed. “i wish you could,” he wished you could. he really did.

the clock next to the television told you that it was three hours past midnight, but you weren't tired. silence had engulfed you both whole, both of you much too hesitant to speak. you cleared your throat, “want me to help you get to bed?” rafe turned to you, meeting your eyes with a look in them you couldn't quite decipher. “i'll sleep on the couch, you've done enough.” you weren't happy with his answer, but you didn't wanna come on any stronger than you already had.

“the bed's big enough for the pair of us,” you informed him. “you got shot, you aren't sleeping alone let alone on the couch.” he didn't want to resist, all he wanted was to jump out of his skin and straight onto the bed. your bed. with you right next to him. you offered a smile, watching his eyebrows furrow as if he were in deep thought. “it'll be just like old times.”

the bed really was big enough, enough space for a third party, too. that was precisely why your house was the go-to spot within your group of pogues. the amount of times you had woken up to jj, pope and john b drunkenly stacked on top of each other was incredible. there was always enough room for the girls, too.

you had spread out two blankets, one on top of the other. it was as humid as ever on the coast, so you really didn't need it. what you needed was to prevent rafe from losing more blood. “is this alright?” he nodded appreciatively. you felt him behind you, his presence. you felt it as he towered over you from behind, and you didn't dare turn around. he had grown an impressive amount since the last time you'd seen him. the right way, at least. you'd never know it, but he watched you. he watched the way you stood there, legs bare and hair beautifully messy. you had gotten prettier since the last time he'd seen you. he could barely recognize the knockout inches away.

you took a step towards the bed, aiming to fix the edges and tuck the bedsheets in properly. the sheets were just fine, really. you just needed an excuse to cut the tension, to resist the urge to turn around. your attempt had proved unnecessary as rafe stopped you in your tracks, his large hand clamping around your wrist as he turned you around, the need to face you stronger than ever.

for a bit, you both stayed silent. he eatched you carefully, quietly admiring the way your cheeks flared as you struggled to return his gaze. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest only, this time, you weren't angry. he dropped your wrist, fingers tracing the shape of your jaw as he moved to cup your cheek. it was as if he couldn't believe it was happening, like he had been dreaming the entire way through.

“you're so pretty,” the words tumbled out before he could stop himself, unaware of what reaction he'd induce. “always been the prettiest on the island.” he admired the work the sun had done on your skin, your eyes, your nose, your lips. the way your natural hair color had faded under the heat, but remained healthy and stunning.

you would always be his girl, nobody else's. you knew it, he knew it. nobody else needed to know, it was your truth. it was what gave you sudden courage, a dose of adrenaline. it gave you enough to stand up to him, hands of your own moving to cup his cheeks before you pressed your lips to his. he gave in the moment he walked into your house. really, the moment he had met you. even while you weren't his, he was still yours. he still gave in, and he would give in every single time.

as his lips met yours, it was as if the world faded away. the kiss started slow, a delicate exploration that ignited a fire within. rafe's fingers traced the contours of your jaw, his touch leaving a trail of heat. the taste of him was intoxicating, a perfect blend of beer and longing. his lips moved with a rhythm that spoke of familiarity, a dance that only the two of you shared. the kiss deepened, a magnetic pull drawing you closer. your hands found their way to the back of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair as the intensity heightened.

in a bold move, rafe's hands began to explore, trailing down your sides, igniting sparks along your skin. with a sudden urgency, he lifted you slightly, guiding you towards the bed. the softness of the mattress embraced you as the kiss continued, a symphony of desire building with each passing moment. the world outside ceased to exist as you succumbed to the intoxicating allure of rafe's touch. the room became a haven for whispered promises and shared vulnerability. you melted into the embrace of the bed, allowing the connection between you and rafe deepen, an unspoken understanding that transcended words.

“watch your wound, rafe,” you warned, gasping as his newly treated wound caught your attention. he couldn't care less, planting sloppy kisses alongside your jaw. your eyes fluttered shut. “don't give a shit, got better things to do,” he murmured, peppering kisses down your neck as he pulled at the hem of your shirt. he tugged at it—jj's shirt. “take this shit off, you're not wearing his clothes anymore.”

the proposal didn't seem to bother you that much. you complied, allowing him to pull the shirt off with your arms in the air. your breasts fell bare, capturing his attention faster than ever. “just like that, baby,” he practically growled. you couldn't help the moans that passed your lips as he attacked your chest, wet lips travelling down the valley as he tugged with his teeth, massaged with his tongue. you pulled at his blond locks, letting his lips trail back up your tits before latching onto yours once more.

while waiting for you to catch up, rafe undid the knot on his shorts and pushed them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his tank top. he was left in only a pair of loose grey boxers that rested low on his hips, showing off his v-line and his hip bones. he then motioned to you to do the same. “come on, take off your panties,” he said, grinning. “let me see that pussy.” you pouted in response. he stepped closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. “you want me to do it for you?” you bit your lip and nod slightly.

he held onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down as he sunk to his knees. he let the delicate fabric fall next to him, looking hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leaned his face in and pressed his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent. you couldn't suppress your moans, and neither could he, the tightness in his boxers unbearable. it was wet—so wet, he almost wanted to chuckle and tease you a while. just for old time's sake, but the ache that shot down to his cock reminded him that he was in no position to tease you while not dealing any better himself. he spread your legs, kissing gently at your clit in a feather-like touch that had you moaning and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“so pretty,” he murmured, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time, this perfect pussy.” “rafe,” you gasped in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you needed him most—equally because you really needed him on your cunt and because you really needed him to shut up. “fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned, chuckling as he toyed with you, “that’s so fuckin’ cute.”

the impatience had him dragging his tip along your folds, collecting the slick pooling at your cunt before pushing right past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buried himself to the brim. his jaw clenched, breath labored as he waited for you to adjust, let you kiss his cheeks and jaw while you murmured how handsome he was, how perfect he felt, how good was to you. your hips bucked up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he drilled into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buried his cock into you as deep as it could go with every aggressive thrust. you could feel the head kissing against the sweet spot in the back of your walls, your trembling pussy sucking him in and hugging around him as he groaned.

the friction felt sickening, like he could pass out at any second, like he was drifting along the bridge of pleasure and the crevice of consciousness. it wasn't the wound causing it, it was all you. you did that to him—he didn't know how or why, but you made him feel like he didn’t have a grip on his thoughts. he didn’t mind it so much, he thought—didn't hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around it. he was where he belonged.

rafe, in all his years of knowing you, had never experienced the side of you that could be that gentle. the side that slid your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his lats and biceps, gently caressing the skin like was made to be worshipped. your lips seared into every part of him they could find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face dug into your neck. even your voice was a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, as if saying it wrong could break him. 

“fuck, you're so tight,” he rasped, whining into your neck as your hand cupped the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips slammed into you sloppily, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he neared his climax, but it didn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, drilling into your sensitive bit each time without fail. “cum—i’m gonna cum. cum with me, baby.”

it was messy, the way cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, but it was flawless and felt so, so right, as if it was showing him all the ways he could've had you all these years. you couldn't help but think how perfectly rafe fit against you as his body slumped on top of yours, panting and exhausted as he caged you in his arms.

“don't leave,” was all he could make out through rasps, his body sputtering. you smiled sweetly, fingers looping through his as your eyes fluttered shut. “not a chance,” you promised. “not this time.”