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stevesgother · 6 days ago

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Chalkboard Hearts Pt III - S.H

Pairing - Teacher!Steve Harrington x Single!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Summary - A winter dance recital prompts you and Steve to spend a little more time together outside of the school.

AN - here they are again! the crowd favs it seems. thank you all so much again for the love on previous parts, i’m so excited for everyone to see where the story is headed and what these two losers get up to next. ~ emma <3

Outside the door labeled with a plaque that reads ‘Mr. Harrington’ in neat font, you can just barely make out the faint hum of a distantly familiar song. The door is slightly ajar but you still give a soft knock before entering to announce your arrival.

“Mommy!” Abbey shouts as she barrels towards you; whatever activity she was previously occupied with long forgotten.

“Hi, bug!” You greet through a quiet grunt as you hoist her up. “How was your day?”

Steve had taken to tutoring Abbey after class most days. He had originally offered under the guise that she was falling behind some of the other kids, and while that may be true, you suspect that he really offered because he noticed how guilty you’d been recently for being late picking Abbey up from school. Your job has been keeping you past three, despite having told them repeatedly that you have to clock out by two. You can’t afford to lose said job– rendering you both effectively homeless– and embarrassingly enough, Steve knows this.

“Good!” she wriggles out of your arms, not too partial for physical affection these days, “I was showing Mr. H my dance for the recital!”

“Is that so?” You ask, amused.

“Yes, but Mr. H is not very good at dancing–” she makes a pitiful face that she unsuccessfully hides from Steve.

“--Hey!” Steve laughs, “I think I’m pretty good!” Trying to sound confident but faltering, it elicits a boisterous laugh from you.

“Show us your moves then, Harrington,”

“Fine,” he huffs defiantly and hilariously contorts himself into what he thinks is a correct position for a pirouette. He balances on one foot– the other one tucked clumsily into his knee– and brings his arms up and over his head like one of those spinning jewelry box ballerinas.

“No, that’s really good. You should keep going,” you try to trap your giggling between your teeth, but Abbey doesn’t spare him such mercy, as she is literally doubled over in a fit of laughter watching him.

“Jerks!” He stops his sorry excuse for a twirl long enough to take in the sight of Abbey, who’s still cackling so much she doesn’t even notice he’s done with this antics. A knowing, affectionate glance is shared between you two at the sight of her.

“Whaddya think, Ab? Am I ready for the big stage?” He motions towards himself flamboyantly– striking a pose with his hands on his hips. Not sensing his sarcasm, she exclaims, “No!” incredulously through her gasping, trying to catch her breath. You imagine this isn’t the first instance of this happening today.

“I guess I’ll leave the dancing up to you then, huh?”

Suddenly, her expression erupts with a look of joy that only comes from a great epiphany,

“Can you come to my recital?!”

–

“Mommy that hurts!” Abbey whines from where she’s seated on the bathroom counter.

“Just a few more minutes and then we’ll be done, I promise.”

Trying to tame her unruly curls into a slicked and gelled ballerina bun was proving to be more challenging than you originally thought. Her dance teacher's instructions were very clear, however– the hair must be in a bun, accompanied by the most ridiculous amount of blush you’ve ever seen on a child, so that she doesn’t look pale under the stage lights.

One entire bottle of hair gel and several broken hair ties later, the updo is as neat as you can possibly manage, “Alright, girl, you’re all set. Let’s go get your costume on, yeah?”

She nods as you assist her off the counter and onto the tiled bathroom floor. She books it to her room and you follow suit, but when you look in her closet where you could’ve sworn you left her costume– it's nowhere to be seen.

“Abbey… where’s your costume?” You ask through a tight lipped smile, suspecting you know exactly what happened to it.

“I don’t know…” she answers mousily.

“Were you using it to play dress-up?”

She breaks instantly– her guilty conscience making it impossible for her to lie to you for very long, “Yes but!--”

“--Abbey!”

“I put it right back where I found it!”

You take a deep, grounding breath before you truly start to overreact, “Well obviously not, Ab. Just help me look for it, okay?”

Twenty excruciating minutes later, you’re sweating and on your hands and knees tearing through your daughter’s closet; the mess you’re making is a problem for your future self. Every item of clothing starts to look exactly the same– just an amalgamation of pink and glitter and blinding sequins.

“I found it, mommy!” Abbey yells triumphantly from the hallway as she sprints into her room– beaming and holding the tutu like it's a gold medal.

“Yes!” You gasp with relief and haphazardly crawl in her direction, suddenly thankful that no one else can witness you in such a state, “Hurry, let’s put it on.”

You slip the sparkly red and green costume on her as quickly as possible without damaging the bun you just spent at least an hour on. She does a little twirl, grinning ear to ear, “I feel like a princess!” She exclaims.

In the car, you struggle to buckle her seatbelt over her frilly tutu. After a little finessing, you figure it’ll be fine for the drive up the road to the local high school where the recital is being hosted in their auditorium.

–

In the lobby, you’re looking as disheveled as you feel. Abbey held one of your arms, and in the other you carried a small duffle bag full of extra hair products and a spare set of tights. She’s bouncing with nerves beside you, and asking you for at least the fifth time in ten minutes, ‘Where’s Mr. H?’

“I’m sure he’s here, Ab, we just have to find him,” you reassure her again, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek as you scan the room for a perfectly manicured head of chestnut colored hair.

And as if he’s got some powerful sixth sense for knowing when he’s needed, you spot him timidly entering the double doors, dodging stray children and looking a little out of place. He holds a small bouquet of red roses that match the shade of his cheeks and nose– tinted red from the biting chill of early December winds.

“Steve!” You call from where you and Abbey stand near the makeshift dressing rooms– waving frantically to get his attention for your daughter's sake just as much as your own, “Over here!”

A look of recognition and then relief passes over his features when he identifies where his name is being called from, and slowly but surely starts to make his way over to you both. If he was just smiling before, he was positively beaming when he caught the sight of Abbey for the first time. His strides increase in length to catch up to you faster.

“Abbey! Look at you!” He compliments, and suddenly she’s all bashful. The man she looks up to almost as much as her own mother is here to see her perform for the first time, with a bouquet of flowers and an unrelenting grin plastered on his face. The sight does nothing to extinguish the steadily growing fire that’s made a home in the pit of your chest the past four months.

She shyly eyes the flowers in his hands– the bouquet almost the length of her own torso, “I brought these for you,” he extends them out for her and she accepts them timidly, swaying on her feet like she can’t stand to be still, “Thank you,” she all but whispers.

“Of course,” he squeezes her little hand as he straightens back to his full height. He directs his attention to you, “How are you? Did everything go alright?” Now you’re sure you look as frazzled as you feel.

“We had a mishap or two, but nothing we can’t handle. Right, Ab?” She’s not paying the slightest bit of attention– too busy observing the older kids as they mingle in front of the auditorium with their friends, “I’ll tell you about it later,” you give him a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods, “when does the show start?”

Checking your watch, you reply, “Just a few minutes. I’m going to drop her off backstage, stay here.” He gives a two finger salute and you recapture Abbey’s focus enough to guide her down the hall where dozens of other dancers in identical costumes were congregating.

You kneel down to her eye level, “I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be amazing,” gently pinching her blushing cheek for emphasis, “Mr. H and I will be right up front, okay?”

She nods once, “Okay, momma,”

“I love you, Ab,” you give her one last squeeze before sending her off, albeit begrudgingly. You know she’s in good hands with the instructors, but lately it seems like the universe keeps finding new ways to shove in your face just how quickly she’s growing up.

When you relocate Steve, he’s standing exactly where you left him.

“You ready?” He asks as you approach.

“Mhm,” you nod and smile in response, suddenly too nervous to meet his gaze. Being around him with Abbey is one thing, but without her as a buffer, you find yourself getting increasingly jittery.

An usher hands Steve a program for the recital, which he promptly passes to you before thanking the woman. You can feel his right hand just barely hovering over your lower back with a featherlight pressure to guide you through the swarms of families attempting to enter the auditorium. You don’t think it’s even a conscious act, but the touch makes your heart– for lack of a better phrase– drop into your ass. You come to the stark realization that to the untrained eye, you must resemble two doting parents here to watch their child perform.

“Alright, where are we sitting?” He asks, breaking you out of your stupor.

“Oh–uhm,” trying and failing to speak around the dry muscle that sits in your mouth like lead, “Row C, I think,”

When you reach your assigned seats, he waits for you to go ahead of him, holding his arm out as if to say ‘ladies first’, just like he did that day on the bus. It makes you swoon just as much now as it did then. The auditorium feels sweltering.

“Hey,” he places a clammy hand on your knee when he notices you zoning again, “You okay?” Oh my God get it together, you think.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just,” you pull at the neckline of your wool sweater, “It’s a little warm in here, isn’t it?”

“A little bit, yeah. Long morning?” He asks with an empathetic wince.

“You could say that,” you chuckle breathlessly, “With her? Every morning is a long morning,”

“You can say that again,” he shares in your laughter, “keeps me on my toes, alright.”

“I don’t know where she gets it from,” you sigh introspectively, “some days I feel like she couldn’t be less like me even if she tried.”

“I beg to differ,” The way he smiles at you sets you on fire from the inside out, but the lights dim– signifying the beginning of the show– before you get the chance to ask him what he meant. It’s only then that he removes his palm from your leg, and you immediately miss the weight of it resting there.

The Nutcracker theme plays over the loudspeaker as a group of ten or so little girls perform a haphazardly put together ballet number. Almost all of them are doing something different, but with huge, toothy smiles on their faces nonetheless. Originally, putting Abbey in dance served as a way to tire her out before bedtime and give yourself a measly hour of alone time, but seeing how much effort she’s put into practicing and how much joy she takes in performing cements your decision to keep her in class.

She performs wonderfully, just as you suspected she would. Always your little perfectionist. You may be biased, but you thought she was the most elegant and beautiful little girl on that stage.

When the company takes their bows, you and Steve both shoot up at the same time to give a standing ovation. Everyone else stays seated, which would have been embarrassing if you weren’t so filled to the brim with pride for your daughter. There was simply no room in your body for any other emotion.

“Yay, Ab!”

“Let’s go, Abbey!”

You both shout simultaneously, clapping your hands ecstatically.

–

Back in the lobby, your arms are overflowing with Abbey’s things from the dressing room along with the flowers Steve brought her.

“Did you see me?!” She asks expectantly, as if you could’ve seen anyone else up there except for her.

“Of course we did!” Steve assures her quickly, “For a second I thought I was watching the real Nutcracker,”

She blushes wildly, “Really?” If you didn’t know better, you thought you could’ve seen stars reflecting in her pupils.

“Totally! You were the best one up there,” he takes his forefinger and mimics drawing an ‘X’ shape over the left side of his chest, “Cross my heart.”

Abbey tugs on the hem of your sweater you were starting to become too warm in again, “Can we still go get milkshakes?” she asks. You had forgotten all about her stage fright induced breakdown two days ago, during which you promised to get her a treat if she went through with performing.

Checking the time, you saw it was already well past eight o’clock– but what would one late bedtime hurt?

“Sure, that sounds yummy. Say goodbye to Mr. H, then we’ll go,” she barrels into his legs at full speed– her signature– and wraps her arms tightly around his knees.

“Bye, Abbey, I’ll see you on Monday, ‘kay?”

She reluctantly loosened her grip on his legs and made her way back to her designated spot next to you.

“Goodbye, Steve, thanks for coming.” You give a small wave accompanied by a tender smile.

“Thanks for having me.” He said, returning the gesture.

Feeling a little reluctant yourself, just as Steve was crossing the threshold of the double doors, you called,

“Hey, Steve?”

He turned back at the sound of your voice, looking at you over his shoulder just enough for you to admire the straight slope of his nose and the twin moles on his cheek. He was giving you that warm, anticipative smile you were beginning to grow particularly fond of.

“Yeah?”

“Would you–uhm,” Don’t get nervous now, “Would you want to join us?”

–

At Benny’s, Abbey insists on sharing a booth with Steve while you sit opposite of them on an uncomfortable, sticky vinyl chair. Steve orders a basket of fries to share and shakes for the table. Strawberry for Abbey, and chocolate for the adults.

At one point, Abbey lifts the straw from the old fashioned shake glass and attempts to spoon the whipped cream into her mouth, consequently dripping the frozen treat all over the front of her sweatshirt. You try not to fuss, even though you’re plagued with the fear that you won't be able to get the stain out of her brand new hoodie. Such is having a five-year-old, you suppose.

Steve was quick to grab the napkins at the far end of the table, surprising you with his reflexes– like he knew the mishap would occur before it actually did.

As he’s dabbing Abbey’s shirt dry, she studies his hand and asks, “Why don’t you have a wife Mr. H?”

“Abbey!--” You scold through a poorly concealed laugh. Steve barks out a shocked huff of laughter himself.

“How do you know I don’t have a wife?” He asks, looking a little dumbfounded at the suddenly intrusive line of questioning, but amused nonetheless.

“Well, mommy used to wear a ring for daddy, but you don’t wear a ring.” She observes, “Aren’t grownups supposed to be married?”

“Ab–” You grow quickly embarrassed by your child’s lack of a filter and social cues. Again, such is having a five-year-old.

“No, that’s okay,” Steve chuckles, only slightly reassuring you, “I guess I–” he contemplates, choosing his words carefully, “I just haven’t met anyone I want to marry yet,” the only thing giving you solace is the knowledge that he probably deals with children asking him much, much more embarrassing questions, all day long.

“Oh,” Abbey says, doing some of her own contemplation, “that’s okay, Mr. H,” she comforts, like a little therapist, patting his back twice before refocusing her attention back on her milkshake.

You send Steve a look across the table, trying your hardest to convey ‘I’m so sorry my child says the shit she says, forgive me?’ with just your expression. He seems to understand what you’re attempting to get across, because he simply shakes his head and smiles like he’s trying to tell you ‘I spend everyday with her, I get it. Don’t worry about it.’

You spend the next half hour or so swapping your funniest workplace stories with each other.

“So then, we’re in the middle of a quiz right? This kid, he just–” he motions with his hands near his mouth, “projectile vomits all over the desk and the kid sitting in front of him,”

“Oh…” you wince with second-hand disgust, “that’s brutal,”

“I know!” he laughs, “I literally had to evacuate the entire classroom,”

“I feel like I remember Abbey telling me about that, actually,”

At the mention of her, he glances to his side, “Speaking of,” he chuckles.

You follow his eyes to find Abbey slumped over into Steve’s side– completely dead to the world. You can tell she’s asleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.

Steve carefully fishes a twenty dollar bill out of his jeans pocket– careful not to disturb her– and places it on the table underneath a sweaty glass that at one point contained a diet coke.

“Oh, no you don’t have to–” you say, reaching for the bill when he delicately grabs your wrist to stop you from trying to shove it back towards him. His palms are much softer than you anticipated, and the sudden movement of his arm sends a wave of his scent straight up your nose– nearly suffocating you. What a lovely way to go, you think.

“Hey, it’s okay. I want to,” he reassures you as he pushes your hand he’s still holding back in your direction. You oblige him, only because you don’t have the energy for a chivalry competition. You make a promise to yourself that if you’re ever fortunate enough to do this with him again, that you’ll foot the bill.

When you try to gently shake Abbey awake, he stops you again, “I got it,” he says, as he hoists Abbey up and carries her bridal style out of the diner and to your little sedan; you wish the waitress a good night as you exit. It’s a dark night outside, no moon or stars to be observed. The navy velvet of the sky is completely blanketed by heavy clouds. It’ll probably snow soon.

You open the rear passenger side door for Steve as he sets Abbey in her seat and fumbles a little bit with the seat belt mechanism. As he’s ducking back out, he rises just a second too early and rams his head on the top of the car with a harsh ��THWACK!’ You try to stifle a surprised laugh behind the back of your hand as he groans and shuts the door as softly as he can.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” You take a step closer to him as he scratches at the back of his usually perfectly coiffed locks, having lost its usual volume.

“Don’t laugh!” He playfully scolds.

“You’re laughing!” you quickly retort.

“Because you’re laughing!”

Once you’ve calmed a bit– reduced to just quiet giggling– you ask, “Can I look?” With that, he turns to give you a better look at the back of his head.

From this angle, you can unabashedly blush and grin at him and not have to worry about him seeing you. You relish in it for as long as possible, as well as the excuse to touch him, even for a moment.

“How do I look, doc? Am I gonna make it?” He says with a faux grim tone to his voice.

“Well, I’m just the receptionist– but you’re not bleeding, no cracks or contusions, either. I think you’ll be alright,”

You grin when he turns back around to face you again, this time with less space separating you, accounting for how closely you were inspecting his head. You stay like that for a moment too long, giving you just enough time to count the freckles spattered across the bridge of his nose like constellations lacking in the sky above you, and how his lashes kiss at the corner of his eyes.

He harshly clears his throat– a nervous habit, you’ve noticed– and looks down at the pavement where you stand, inches from each other.

“I’d better let you get her home, it’s getting late,”

“No yeah– definitely uhm…” you struggle to find your words again, “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” he smiles fondly, “Oh, I uh– I wanted to give you this,” from out of his coat pocket, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to you. It must’ve been in his pocket for at least a few hours, maybe even a few days– the ink smudged like he’d been nervously fidgeting with it before he gave it to you.

It was his phone number.

“You know, in case you ever–” he clears his throat again, “in case you ever need anything, or there’s an emergency, or something…” he trails off at the end of his thought like he’s completely regretting the gesture and already trying to figure out a way to back track, but before he can get the chance, you embrace him in a grateful hug.

“Thanks, Steve,” you say, slightly muffled by the hood of his coat, “I really appreciate everything you do for Abbey,”

He doesn’t mention how he gave the number of his landline to you in case you ever needed anything, he just takes the win for what it is. You have his phone number, and you’re hugging him. The perfect floral scent of your shampoo and whatever perfume you’re wearing flood his senses, and he immediately misses your touch when you pull away.

“Mommy?” Abbey croaks tiredly from the backseat, “Are we going home?”

“Yes, baby, one second,” you smile apologetically at Steve for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, “I’m gonna get her to bed.”

“Of course, go,” he says as he ushers you around to the driver's side door. As much as he craves to, he doesn’t open it for you. Maybe another time, he thinks.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You say before you pull the door closed.

“Goodnight, drive safe,” he aims his sights for the backseat, “Goodnight, Ab. You did awesome today,”

“Bye, Mr. H,” she waves, eyelids heavy with the exhaustion of being everyone’s favorite five-year-old all day.

Steve waits until you’ve pulled out of the parking lot, hands shoved tightly into his jeans pockets, before walking to his own car across the parking lot.

–

About halfway home and in between bouts of nodding off, Abbey asks quietly from the backseat, “Can Mr. H be like daddy?”

Startled and slightly confused by the nature of her question, you lock eyes with her through the rearview mirror, “What?”

Even though you fully heard her the first time, she reiterates, “I mean like, because we don’t have a daddy anymore,” she pauses– thinking, “maybe he could come live with us?”

“Oh, I don’t know, baby. It doesn’t always work like that, you know?” It breaks your heart to break hers.

“But–” she pouts in that adorable way that she does when she’s trying to lure you into giving her something she wants. Though this time, you can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. “He said he doesn’t have a wife!”

You can tell she’s too tired to have a productive discussion about this, and frankly– you have not a single idea of how to approach this subject, “Tell you what– how about we talk about it tomorrow when you wake up, yeah?” You try to reason, but secretly hoping she’s too drowsy to remember this conversation in the morning.

Mid-yawn she responds, “Okay…” clearly losing her battle with the hypnotic hum of the engine lulling her softly back to sleep.

–

At well past eleven o’clock, you find yourself sinking into the cushions of your thrifted sofa, staring at the faded piece of paper with Steve’s phone number scrawled on it so hard you thought it might burst into flames and disintegrate.

The drone of black and white reruns playing on the television was your only reprieve from the rushing spiral of your rumination, as you fought the urge to call Steve and ask what counted as ‘an emergency or…something.’

You wondered, against your better judgement, what you’d be interrupting if you gave into your temptation. You wonder if he, too, is lying restless somewhere in his house just like you were– if he has someone there to keep him company, and maybe you’d gotten this all wrong. You wonder if his walls are filled to the brim with photos of his life before Maine, and what brought him here in the first place. You wonder if he sleeps with the fan on or off.

You wonder if you should even be feeling this way at all.

But somewhere, in a mostly empty house on Ashburton street, Steve is staring at the white expanse of his popcorn ceiling of his bedroom pondering identical thoughts about you.

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avis-writeshq · 11 months ago

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heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–”

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch.

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol.

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

***

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins.

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?��

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms.

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it.

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

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delirious-donna · 9 months ago

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Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…

Masterlist

“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”

The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.

Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.

The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.

Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.

Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”

“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”

His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.

Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.

“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.

You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”

Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.

It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.

Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.

He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.

“You will be the death of me, love.”

The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.

Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.

You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.

The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.

Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.

“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.

“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.

“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.

Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.

A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.

“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.

Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.

“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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urmum-lovesme · 21 days ago

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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P6

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

an: Hey ya'll. Sorry for the delay, I've been busy but this is super duper long (litch 10k). I decided to introduce someone new in this chpt, cause he's going to be c-r-u-c-i-a-l in the story later on guys. We get protective!Rafe and jealous!Rafe as well ig cause my man got a little competition. Poor y/n and her mom, I just wanna give her a hug. AND A REVELATION OMG I FORGOT HAHAHA RAFE GETS HIS ACT TOGETHER SORTA AND HAS AN EPIPHANY. Thank you so much for all the love this series has received I love you all so much.

warnings: dismissive mother, mention of sex, drug usage, smoking, alcohol, driving under the influence, feelings (so terrifying)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning air was humid as Y/N’s trainer clad feet moved through the kitchen, putting her plates away from breakfast. The boys had insisted they all go golfing, so here she was getting ready to get picked up. Just as she was about to walk out the front door, she felt a familiar, cool hand on her arm.

“Y/N.”

She froze, sighing internally before turning to face her mother, who stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Her mother’s gaze immediately dropped to her skirt, a disapproving frown forming on her face.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

Although her voice was steady, there was an edge to it. The unspoken criticism was clear in her tone. Y/N looked down at the white skirt, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. It wasn’t that short, but her mother always seemed to find something wrong with whatever she wore. It didn’t help that their relationship had been strained for months now, she’d realised that the older she got her and her mother seemed to drift further apart. Everything she did felt like a disappointment to her, and this was just one more thing to add to the list.

“It’s just golf, Mom,”

Y/N replied, trying to keep her tone light, but her irritation was starting to bubble up. Her mother’s eyes remained cold, assessing her daughter's appearance. “It’s... short.” The judgment was clear in her voice.

“You’re not going out like that.”

Y/N could feel the tension tightening in her chest, but she held her ground, “It’s not like I’m going clubbing, Mom. It’s just the guys.”

Her mother’s gaze hardened, and she took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You’re not a little girl anymore, Y/N, and I can’t keep covering for your mistakes.” She swallowed at her mothers words, mouth going dry.

“The gala tonight, you’ll be wearing something appropriate for that?”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She’d completely forgotten about the gala, both her parents planning the event weeks in advance. She knew her attendance was non-negotiable, and it was always about looking perfect, being perfect. It felt suffocating.

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice quieter now, but still tinged with a hint of frustration. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to appease her mother or convince herself. Her mother didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, though,

“I expect you to be on time and present yourself well tonight, Y/N.” The girl shook her head silently as she looked down from the floor to the woman.

"Don’t embarrass me.”

There was no warmth in her words, no affection—just an icy expectation. Y/N clenched her jaw, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be there.”

Her mother nodded once, but her gaze lingered for a moment, before she turned back toward the kitchen. Y/N stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of her mother’s eyes still pressing on her. Then, she shook it off, pushing the nagging feeling in her stomach aside as she shut the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe stood in the driveway, staring off into the distance, lost in his thoughts. The previous weekend had been a mess in his mind. He had felt guilty about how close he had gotten to Y/N, but he was also frustrated because it was all he could think about, the image of her on her knees lingering in his mind. She was his best friend, and yet, there was something different now, something he couldn't ignore. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, making his head snap up. He watched as she stepped out of the house, her presence pulling him in like a magnet. Y/N pranced down the steps and walked up to the car, her steps light. She refused to acknowledge the awkwardness from the moment she had shared with Rafe last time,

That was just Rafe being Rafe

"Morning."

Rafe’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over her, his gaze lingering on the white skirt she wore and the bare skin of her legs beneath it. His stomach dropped slightly, and he quickly realized where his thoughts were heading. He snapped his eyes up to her face, trying to act normal,

“Morning.”

Y/N smirked, trying to lighten the mood, and asked,

“Ready to go, um… hit some balls?”

Her attempt at humor fell flat, but Rafe couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, a smirk tugging at his lips at her poor attempt at a joke.

“Not the best wording there, Y/N.”

"Whatever," she sing-songed, clearly unbothered as she slipped into the car. Rafe shook his head with a grin before getting into the driver’s seat, trying his best to push down the odd mix of feelings that swirled in his chest.

The scenery outside the car window blurred as Rafe drove toward the country club. Topper and Kelce had told them they'd meet them there, so it was just the two of them for now. The drive was silent- at least for Rafe. He tried to focus on the road ahead, but his eyes kept drifting over to her. She sat in the passenger seat, her legs on display, her smooth skin practically taunting him with every curve. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, but couldn't seem to stop himself.

“So… how’s your week been?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking the silence. She rested her head against the headrest, gazing lazily out the window, but there was an unreadable expression on her face. His eyes quickly moved up to meet hers. Their eyes locked, his tongue coming out to wet his lips.

“Yeah, good... not bad.”

“Mmhmm.”

Should I..?

Y/N turned her head toward him, her eyes curious. “How’s your…?” She hesitated, unsure if he'd want to talk about it, she decided to ask anyway,

“How’s your counselling going?”

Her question caught him off guard. Nobody had brought up his sessions, nobody but her knew about them, so a small part of him was pleasantly surprised that she had asked. He had expected to talk about anything but that today, yet hearing her ask made something shift in him- something softer, more vulnerable. He didn’t know whether to lie or tell the truth but in the end, he figured there was no point in hiding it from her. She was the one who had recommended the counselor to him in the first place, after all he trusted her more than anyone.

“It’s alright, I guess…”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s nice to talk to someone who’s not gonna judge me for once.” A soft smile tugged at her lips, her eyes bright with something like relief. “You’re doing better, Rafe,” she said, her voice gentle but full of sincerity. “I’ve noticed... .”

She’s noticed?

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, the smile on her face making him feel both grateful and undeserving. She saw the change in him, it was all he could do to not let the feeling of guilt swallow him whole. Here she was looking out for him, and he’d ended up lusting over her like a desperate animal.

“Yeah... I guess I am…” he muttered, his voice low, almost too quiet for her to hear. He didn't want to look at her now, not when the weight of everything was making him feel guilty.

You need to get it together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The club was relatively quiet as they walked onto the golf grounds. Y/N followed closely behind Rafe, her eyes scanning the peaceful surroundings while he led the way, his gear slung casually over his shoulder As they moved closer to the course, the sounds of the game became apparent- the sharp thwack of clubs striking golf balls, the low hum of conversation from a few scattered players. Every now and then, his hand brushed against hers as they walked side by side. Each fleeting touch sent a shiver through him that he couldn’t shake, a small jolt of electricity that shot up his arm. He fought the impulse to lace their fingers together, to pull her hand into his and savor the sensation of her skin against his. But he didn’t, couldn’t, because the idea of crossing that line between friendship and something more was terrifying.

Still, the desire was there, undeniable and persistent.

“Hey, I think they’re over there…”

Y/N spoke up, her voice drawing his attention. She squinted at a pair of figures in the distance before raising her brows slightly. “Wait... there’s someone else with them.” Rafe followed her gaze, his brow furrowing. Sure enough, Topper and Kelce were standing on the course, but there was another guy with them, Rafe didn’t recognize him.

“Who’s that?” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he studied the unfamiliar figure. Y/N shrugged, her curiosity piqued. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” She started walking toward them, not bothering to wait for him. the boy rolled his eyes at her before he fell into step beside her, his eyes lingering on the unknown guy as they walked. As they neared, Kelce and Topper spotted them and waved in greeting, their faces lighting up as the two approached.

“Hey, guys!”

Y/N called out with a bright smile, her voice warm and easy as always, Kelce gave a playful grin,

“Nice of you to finally show up,”

He teased, strolling over to the girl his eyes flickered between her and Rafe, but he didn’t catch the subtle tension hanging in the air. Y/N shrugged casually, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“S’my fault actually,” she said, her gaze briefly flicking to Rafe before she continued. “Wasn’t sure if I wanted to go full glam today.” Kelce stared at her, eyebrows raised.

“Full glam? For golf?”

Y/N nodded seriously, not missing a beat. “Priorities.”

Kelce snorted in disbelief. “Right, because those extra few inches of eyeliner are gonna help you sink a hole in one.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, “you wouldn’t understand. It’s an art form.” Kelce chuckled at the girl raising his hands in surrender,

“Whatever you say, Pickaxe-o. ”

"It's Picasso dumbass."

Rafe’s eyes drifted to the unfamiliar guy again. Kelce noticed the subtle shift in Rafe’s gaze and raised a brow, clearly sensing the unspoken question. Her eyes rolled at him before they were drawn back to the boy standing slightly behind the two. His brown hair, soft and tousled in gentle curls, fell just the right way, framing his striking features: a strong jawline that gave his face a defined, almost sculptural edge, paired with dark eyebrows that framed his sharp, green eyes - there was something magnetic about them. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly.

“I don’t think we’ve met…”

The boy looked over at Y/N, a smirk creeping onto his face at the question. “Nope, guess we haven’t,” he said, his voice smooth. He held his hand out between them.

“I’m Cooper.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she processed his name, a small laugh escaping her. “Oh, you’re Cooper!” she said, realizing who he was. She remembered the conversation she’d had with the boys on her yacht a while back, the new Kook who’d moved from New York. She reached her hand out to him, her smile warm.

“Nice to finally meet you, I’m Y/N.”

Cooper took her hand, shaking it slowly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N…”

He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking down to glance over her body for a split second before bringing them back to her face, the smirk still firmly in place.

“The boys have told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” Y/N joked, watching as he pulled his hand away, folding his arms.

Well rumours true… he’s kinda hot

Cooper chuckled at her comment, “Oh yeah, absolutely,” he replied, sarcasm lacing his words as he smirked at her, he was clearly amused by the girl. Y/N let out a humoured breath at his words, yet just as she was about to say something more, she heard Rafe clear his throat behind her. She turned slightly, suddenly remembering he hadn’t met the boy yet.

It’s not that he wanted to dampen the mood but Rafe wasn’t necessarily enjoying watching the interaction between the girl and Cooper, but he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why. It felt weird watching his girl- his best friend- flirt with another guy in front of him, it was different when she was with girls, that’d never bothered him, he actually found it pretty entertaining. Maybe it was the way she was laughing so easily at whatever Cooper was saying, the way her eyes sparkled with amusement. She was his… she was his friend, and another guys attention on her was… weird to get used to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their brief introduction, the five of them had taken the golf carts and driven a little further out on the course. Now parked up, Y/N sat in one of the carts, watching the boys in front of her as they discussed their swings.

Swings?

Was that it? She wasn’t really sure. She didn’t know much about golf- if she was being honest, she wasn’t really that interested in it. She’d just wanted to get out of the house for a while.

Rafe stood off to the side, quietly observing the trio as they debated different techniques, only half-listening. His attention kept flicking over to Y/N, who sat in the cart, looking bored. He couldn’t help but smile at the expression on her face, the girl looked like she was about to fall asleep.

"You got a little staring problem there, bud," she teased, raising an eyebrow at him. Rafe’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly masked his surprise, but the slight flush creeping up his neck was enough to betray him. Rafe raised his own eyebrow,

“You’re one to talk Princess. I noticed you checking him out.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed just a bit as Rafe looked over to the brown haired boy who’s just swung his club through the air. She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rafe chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her reaction. He was pleased that he’d gotten under her skin a little. He started walking over to her, standing just by the side of her golf cart and looking down at her.

“You sure about that? You were staring at him pretty damn intently…”

Y/N shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but her eyes flickered away as she bit down on her bottom lip to hide the smile that was threatening to break through.

He does have nice arms

Even though she wasn’t interested in golf, she had to admit she appreciated the view- every time Cooper raised his arms to swing, his muscles flexed, and it was hard not to notice.

Rafe’s gaze immediately shifted to her bottom lip as she bit down on it, she was trying so hard to hide her smile, trying to pretend she wasn’t checking out the guy right in front of him. But Rafe could see right through her, eyes having lingered on Cooper’s toned arms more than once. He wasn’t used to this feeling- this tiny twinge of jealousy that stirred in his chest.

“Well, you know…” Y/N said, her eyes drifting over to Cooper, who had just raised his hand to messily push his hair out of his eyes.

“I still think he’s a good addition to the group.”

He didn’t like the idea of her admiring Cooper like that. There was something unsettling about seeing her stare at the boy with that little spark in her eyes, like she was genuinely interested, maybe even impressed. And the more he thought about it, the more it irritated him. He tried to push the feeling aside, telling himself he was overreacting, but it lingered in the pit of his stomach, growing like a knot that wouldn’t untangle. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, then spoke to her with a sarcasm lacing his tone.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s grea-”

"Hey, Y/N!" Cooper called out from where he stood, casually holding his golf club.

"Why don’t you have a go?"

Rafe’s head whipped around at the sound of the boy’s voice, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the two of them. A small part of him actually wanted Y/N to turn him down, to stay in the cart with him, where it felt more comfortable, more familiar. The idea of watching her swing a golf club- of watching Cooper teach her- was making him anxious in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Say no.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, glancing at Cooper with a playful smile. "I don’t know how…" she shrugged, as if it were no big deal. Cooper’s smile deepened, and he moved closer to her, leaning in with a teasing look.

"I can teach you, come on," he said, his voice smooth as he looked down at her from where she still sat in the cart. He reached down and held his hand out toward her, the offer clear.

Say no.

Rafe’s lips pursed. He could feel his muscles tense as he watched Y/N look up at Cooper and, with a bright smile, take his hand. Her fingers curled around his, and she stood up, her smile still in place as she glanced back at Rafe.

Did she just fucking wink at me?

The way she casually took his hand and walked toward him, left a bitter taste in Rafe’s mouth. He felt an irrational pang in his chest, something heavy that made his stomach churn. Why did it bother him so much? It wasn’t like she owed him anything. She was allowed to have fun, to enjoy herself, to hang out with whoever she wanted. But the sight of Cooper walking with her, the casual way she interacted with him, the ease between them made Rafe feel like an outsider in his own skin.

“So what do I do?" Y/N asked, clasping her hands in front of her, her eyes curious but with a touch of uncertainty.

Cooper chuckled softly, a sound that sent a small thrill through her. He moved behind her, positioning himself so closely that she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her back. His arms reached around her, guiding her hands to the club.

"First, I need to make sure you’ve got the right stance," he murmured, his voice low. The warmth of his breath against her neck made her shiver slightly. It was subtle, but enough for Cooper to notice, a small thrill flickering in his eyes as he adjusted his hold on the club, Y/N couldn’t help the way her pulse quickened.

Well, this was going better than I expected

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying the way her breathing hitched as his chest came even closer to her back. His arms were still wrapped around her, the contact making it hard to focus on anything else. "Good," he said, his voice lowering even further.

"Now, all you have to do is take a swing but keep your eye on the ball."

"What if I miss?"

Y/N asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder. She could feel his hand still guiding hers on the club, his fingers brushing hers lightly. The contact was enough to make her palm grow slightly sweaty. Cooper smiled at her over her shoulder, his eyes flicking down to catch a glimpse of her face, noting the nervousness there. It was a sweet reaction, he found himself oddly drawn to it.

Rafe watched them from the cart, teeth grinding against each other, can which was in his hand now crumpled.

"It’s alright if you miss," he reassured her, his voice calm and steady. "I’ll teach you to get better." He paused for a moment, his smirk growing as he leaned in a little closer.

"Don’t be nervous. You’ll get it on your first try, swear."

Y/N couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips, her smile tugging at the corners,

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I promise." Cooper’s voice spoke out gently. His words seemed to settle in the space between them, his breath warm against her skin, she shivered

"Now try"

The command sent a rush of energy through her, his arms remained around her, his chest pressing lightly against her back as he guided her into position. She raised her hands, taking in a breath as she swung the club down toward the ball, the motion felt almost automatic now, as if his presence had guided her every move. The sharp crack of the club meeting the ball rang through the air, and for a split second, she held her breath.

Then the ball rolled forward in a straight line, across the course, a perfect shot.

"See?"

His words sent a thrill through her. His chest brushed against her back again, his presence overwhelming as he spoke softly,

"Told you, you could do it."

Y/N let out a little cheer as she took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the small ball that had soared across the grass. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She turned to face Cooper, folding her arms across her chest with a playful smile.

"Pretty sure that’s cause you did most of that," she teased, a laugh escaping her lips. Cooper chuckled, clearly unfazed by her teasing, he crossed his arms in a similar fashion, his gaze fixed on her with a confident, amused smirk.

"Alright, maybe I did do most of it," he admitted, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"But I still know you would’ve done a great job without me."

He paused for a beat, his eyes locking onto hers he added,

"And plus, I like helping pretty girls."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Is that so?" she replied, her voice light but with a challenge in her tone. The way he looked at her, so unbothered and confident, made her feel just a little bit flustered, though she’d never admit it.

It was hard to talk to Topper and Kelce about anything serious, Rafe was an exception sometimes, especially relationships. They were more about casual hookups- never about anything deeper, never about feelings; and now the idea of someone coming to the OBX, someone who didn’t know her as just the ‘Kook Princess,’ appealed to her more than she wanted to admit. Cooper watched her, his eyes catching the small smile that played at her lips. He couldn’t deny that he was drawn to her, something about the way she carried herself intrigued him.

“So have you been here your whole life?”

She cleared her throat as she shook her head at him a smile pulling at her lips,

“Yeah pretty much. Born and bread.” She joked as she looked over to the other guys.

“We’ve known each other for years, right Rafey?”

Rafe had been watching the whole scene play out between y/n and Cooper, his hands clenching into fists inside his pockets as he watched the guy get so close to her, putting his hands all over her as he helped her swing a damn golf club. At the sound of his name, he snapped out of his thoughts, bringing his head up to look over at the girl.

“Yeah, since we were kids.” She watched as the boy took a step closer to them, his presence lingering behind her.

“Yeah, since kindergarten,” she smiled towards Cooper, who suddenly seemed interested in their friendship. Cooper nodded his head as he listened to them speak, curiosity filling his tone as he spoke up.

“Since kindergarten? That’s a damn long time huh.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed out. She suddenly felt Rafe's hand rest on her hip, his arm circling around her back. Her head turned to look at him in surprise at his sudden closeness.

okay?

Rafe’s hand gripped her hip as he stood behind her, his eyes watching as Cooper’s own gaze flicked down to the hand on her hip. Rafe moved forward to speak, and as he did, his chest pressed against her back, an obvious display of possessiveness.

“Yeah man, we’ve been best friends for years.”

She was surprised by the boy’s forwardness.

“Uh, yeah...” she mumbled out, looking at Cooper. He seemed to be amused by the boy's outburst of possessiveness.

“So your families are close?” Cooper questioned as he leaned against the golf cart behind them.

Rafe moved his hand from her hip down to her lower back instead, resting it just above her skirt. He knew what he was doing, the gesture obvious to everyone there.

“Yeah, our families have always been together- as long as I can remember.”

“Our fathers work together,” y/n added. He could sense the slight shudder that went through her body as his hand touched her lower back just above the hem of the material, his hand remaining on her lower back, his fingers occasionally brushing over the exposed skin there.

“Mhm, they run a successful business together.”

“Cameron Developments?” Cooper spoke up, looking at Rafe and starting to realize the type of authority he had on the island. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to join their clique.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Pride evident in his tone. He knew exactly how rich his family was, how much power his family name held on the island. He let the silence linger between the three of them before he spoke again.

“What about your family?”

“Law,” Cooper said. “We’ve come down from NY. My father owns a law firm back home. At the moment, he’s working with Topper’s family, actually,” he spoke out, gesturing to the boy who was still swinging at the golf balls with Kelce.

“Extending the branches.”

“Law firm hm” Rafe responded, shaking his head slowly. Y/n watched the boy in front of her as he spoke about his family, law wasn’t an easy thing to get into. But of all places why did they come down to the OBX?

That’s odd

“Why have you come down to the OBX?” she questioned curiously.

Cooper shrugged his shoulders slightly as he leaned back against the golf cart, a relaxed expression on his face.

“It was my dad’s decision, said he wanted to move to a smaller place, with fewer people for a while. Wanted to get out the city for a bit.”

“Right,” she nodded her head with a smile in his direction.

“Well, there’s always a space for you with us,” she said. She knew she probably should’ve double-checked with all the guys that they definitely agreed on the decision, but she didn’t care at the moment. She needed someone new. Cooper smiled back at her again, a small smirk forming on his face.

“Yeah? Is that an invitation?”

He spoke in a teasing tone, his eyes shifting from her to Rafe, and the small sign of possessiveness he showed with his hand still on her hip. “Definitely,” she spoke out. She added on waiting for the boy’s response,

“Right, Rafe?”

Rafe’s gaze flicked down to her hip where his hand still sat, his grip tightening again for a minute before he let his eyes return to her face. The small gesture of ownership went unnoticed by her, but Cooper definitely caught on. He could see that there was something going on between them.

“Yeah, of course…”

He said reluctantly.

The two boys looked at each other, a moment of silence passing. y/n cleared her throat as she took a step away from Rafe, feeling flushed by his proximity and the sudden tension between the two guys.

What’s he playing at?

She stepped towards the golf cart, bending over the seat slightly to reach the cooler on the floor and pull out a White Claw can. Rafe clenched his jaw slightly as she stepped away from him, putting a small bit of distance between them. His eyes fell to her as she leant over the seat of the golf cart to reach the cooler, the sight of her in that position making him bite down on his bottom lip as her skirt hiked slightly up her thighs. Cooper's eyes followed the girl, his gaze dropping down slightly as she leaned over the seat. Rafe noticed the boy’s eyes as they followed her, his body tensing slightly, the possessive feeling within him reaching out again.

He took a step forward, closer towards her, angling his body to be almost looming over her, blocking the y/n out of the boy's eye-line as she bent down to reach the cooler. She stood up straight, fiddling with the can, trying to open it. Her freshly manicured nails causing her a struggle.

If I chip these I swear

She let out a huff of irritation. Rafe chuckled quietly as he watched her struggle with the can and he couldn’t help himself as the words slipped out,

“You want some help, Princess?”

“Mmhmm,” she responded, holding out the can for him. He hummed softly again as he took the can from her, brushing against her fingers as he did so, before easily popping the tab. His eyes watched her again as she turned back around to face him, the can held out for her to take back.

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking a sip, the cool liquid running down her throat, a little dribble slipping past her lips and down her chin. His gaze fell to the small dribble of liquid running down her chin, the action making a smirk form on his face. He moved a step closer, bringing his hand up to gently catch the little bit of liquid with his thumb.

“Careful Princess, making a mess.”

She let out a hum at his words, his touch on her chin making her shiver slightly. They were brought out of their moment by the voice of the boy close by.

“I’ve got a free house tonight, you guys should come round,” Cooper spoke out, with Topper and Kelce turning to listen.

“Sure thing, man,” Topper spoke up, clapping the boy on the back. Kelce nodded along,

“For sure.”

Rafe raised his head from looking at y/n and turned towards Cooper, his eyes on the other boy as he spoke. He glanced back at y/n, who was still standing right next to him, her eyes on him as she took a small sip from the can in her hand.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said in response to Cooper, his eyes briefly flicking back down to y/n. She remained silent for a moment. Her parents had planned the gala for some family friends tonight.

Well, they do business together, so are they friends or just coworkers?

But she didn’t want to say she couldn’t come... to be honest, she wanted to be there. Rafe caught the small hesitation from her in answering, sensing that there was something else going on, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He watched on silently as a few moments passed before she spoke up.

“I don’t know if I can make it,”

She spoke out, coming up to push her hair out of her face. “I have an event I need to be at tonight,” she rolled her eyes as she spoke, remembering the fuss her mother had made in the morning… His mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had plans with someone else.

You’re pretty toxic you know

He hated the thought of her with a different man, maybe in some fancy dress, having to act the perfect little princess for some people she didn’t even enjoy being around.

“That’s calm,” said Cooper. “Another time?”

She shook her head. “Yeah, definitely. You guys have fun though.”

“What kind of event is it?” Rafe asked her quietly, his eyes fixed on her as he spoke. She looked up before sighing out,

“Some stupid gala my parents are hosting. I’ll be stuck with my mom on my ass all night.”

He let out a small scoff of laughter.

“Yeah, I can imagine”

She shook her head as a smile tugged on her lips, “And my dress is so ugly,” she said out a laugh passing her lips. “My mom picked it out ‘cause apparently everything I wear is ‘too revealing and makes you look like a slut.’ ”

She lifted her fingers into little quotations as she spoke. He knew the girl had a rough relationship with her mother but she never opened up to him about it, more focused on comforting him after his dad makes another comment about his ‘disappointment of a son’.

“That bad, huh?”

“Sooooo bad,” she replied, sitting down into the golf cart behind her, a wide smile on her face in amusement. “I’m gonna look like I practice celibacy.”

Laughter escaped his lips at her statement, his eyes following her as she sat down. He took a few steps closer to the golf cart, standing right in front of her as he smiled down at her.

“You? Celibacy? That I really don’t buy.”

She shoved his shoulder back with a scoff, a smile still on her face. “Asshole.” The small shove of her hand against his shoulder barely even moved him, and it only made his smile grow, he spoke up again, his voice more teasing than before.

“What? I think we both know it’s true.”

“Whatever, you man-whore.”

She crossed her arms as she spoke out teasingly to him. His eyes widened slightly at her words, letting out a surprised laugh, a small smirk forming across his face, more teasing than before. His hands raised up in mock surrender,

“Hey! I thought you said I was your angel baby?”

“You’re so stupid.” She giggled at his comment, remembering the song she’d dedicated to him when she was dancing up on the table. He remembered it too, his eyes flashing with memory as he thought back to the night on the table. He couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips, the memory still etched in his brain,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat at the table by herself, most people standing around in groups. The suffocating dress caused her discomfort, making her want to rip it off as all the adults around her talked about their businesses’ success and developments. She was probably one of the youngest there, and she didn’t even know why she needed to be there. She wasn’t talking or listening to anyone. She pulled her phone out of her clutch, holding it on her lap as she opened the messages. She knew Rafe, Topper, and Kelce were all at Cooper's house, and she couldn’t help but feel resentment at the fact that she wasn’t there. She tapped on Rafe's contact, her fingers hovering on the keyboard, wondering if she should text him. Would he even answer, or was he too busy with the guys to check his phone? She decided against her negative thoughts and typed out the message quickly, sending it before she could second-guess herself.

Princess : Hey

She switched her phone off with a sigh, staring across the room at the groups of adults, feeling more isolated by the second. She had about three more hours at the gala, if she was lucky. The thought of being stuck here without anyone to talk to made her want to scream.

Rafe sat back on the couch between Kelce and Topper, a beer in his hand as they passed a blunt between each other. The room was filled with the haze of smoke. They were all having a good time, Rafe enjoying the buzz of the alcohol in his system. His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out, his eyes immediately widening when he saw the name on the screen. He felt a mixture of surprise at her message, but also the small twinge of excitement lingered. He hadn’t heard from her all night, and now, there she was. He read the single word, letting it settle in his mind. He took another sip of his beer as he tapped out a quick reply, his thumb moving swiftly over the keyboard.

Rafey : what’s good

Her phone buzzed and she lifted it up to see what the boy had written.

Princess : Stuck at this suck ass gala

He read her reply and felt bad for the girl, hearing that she was stuck at some fancy event, in some shitty dress, having to play pretend for her parents and a bunch of stuffy rich assholes.

Princess : And they’ve cut me off from the bar

A small huff of laughter escaped him as he read her next message, picturing her there rolling her eyes, probably surrounded by a bunch of old people who all wanted to talk to her about her future.

Rafey : Damn.

Rafey : I’m sure I’m having just as good a time as you

Princess : wyd?

He took a quick look around the room, noticing Kelce and Topper both watching the TV on the wall with intent attention, and Cooper sitting in the armchair in the corner, mindlessly staring at the ceiling.

Rafey : TV and drinking beer.

Rafey : Nothing interesting

Princess : You smoking???

She typed out, curiosity gnawing at her. A small smirk grew on his face when he read her question, he glanced over at Topper and Kelce, the both of them exhaling a cloud of smoke from their lungs, before looking back at his phone and replying.

Rafey : Yeah why

Princess : Without me :(

She typed back as a small smile pulled at her lip. He could almost hear her voice, soft and playful. He quickly typed back, his fingers moving with a mix of affection and teasing.

Rafey : wish you were here princess

Her chest tightened at his message.

Princess : Me too

Princess : What’s Cooper's house like

The thought of her wanting to be there with them, made his heart thump heavy in his chest. He took a second to picture her here, and it nearly made him want to start the car and head towards her. He took another slow sip of his beer as he started typing out a response,

Rafey : pretty big

Princess : So he full kook then huh

He let out a huff of laughter as he read her words, because yes, the boy was definitely a fully fledged kook. His fingers moved quick when he typed out his response, curious to know how she would react to his words

Rafey : and you know what’s even better

Princess : what

Rafey : hot tub is fucking massive

Princes : He’s got you in his hot tub already huh

She typed out jokingly as she had to stifle a giggle to herself. A smirk curled his lips at her little tease, as he thought about how he’d much prefer her to be in that hot tub with her. He took a second to look around the room, noticing that no one was paying attention to him still before replying back.

Rafey : haha very funny

Rafey : no, I’m on the couch

Princess : everyone else

Rafey : Kelc is on the floor, pretty sure he’s in a coma.

Rafey : Tops basically asleep on the couch

Rafey : so I’m on my own here princess

Princess : Cooper

Rafey : I think he’s high on something stronger

She messaged, she bit her bottom lip gently now slightly nervous. She was praying he’d say no, he’d been working so hard on himself

Princess : Have you taken anything else?

He looked down at her question, feeling a slight twinge of guilt now. He hadn’t been thinking and had made it sound like he’d taken something stronger than just weed. He hadn’t touched anything else in months. He quickly typed up his response.

Rafey : Just weed.

Rafey : That’s all I’m taking.

Rafey : promise

Princess : mkay

Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in as she typed out slightly relieved.

Princess : So you and Cooper cool now?

Rafey : sure

Princess : That’s good

She messaged back happy they’d finally come to an agreement, she did know that it wasn't a yes, but it also wasn't a no. He took a small glance around all the guys now knocked out around him, still wanting to know what it was like at the party she was attending

Rafey : how’s the gala

Rafey : Everyone treating the Kook Princess nicely?

Princess : I’ve not spoken to anyone for the past 2 hours

His brows raised at her response. He felt his heart throb slightly at the thought of her sat all alone for two hours, watching as everyone else around her happily drank and socialised while she had spent the night by herself.

Rafey : that sucks

Rafey : Your parents not checking on you?

Princess : They don’t care too busy talking to investors

She rolled her eyes as she typed out, she just wanted to get out of the god forsaken venue but she had no way of getting home, her parents having driven her here. The fact that y/n’s parents hadn’t even bothered to check up on her once, just so they could keep their noses clean for their investors didn’t help Rafe’s slowly simmering irritation.

Princess : It’s fine

Princess : think I’m gonna book a taxi home

She typed out as she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, taking her clutch with her. He read her words, the feeling of relief washing over him. He was glad she was going to finally get away from the place.

But the thought of her on her own, in the back of a taxi late at night, made him feel uneasy and nervous.

Rafey : do you want me to pick you up?

She paused as she looked down at her phone. Biting her lip gently.

He’d do that?

She felt bad asking the boy to come almost all the way to the other side of the island just ot pick her up when she was more than capable of going home by herself. But she couldn’t ignore the pull in the back of her mind telling her to say yes.

Princess : Idk I feel bad you’re with the guys

He could practically see her gnawing at her lip, a quirk she’d picked up over the years when she’d felt guilty or anxious, as she thought over his words. But he needed to know that she was safe, being driven by a random cab driver who could easily take advantage of her, in her dress- it made his skin burn.

Rafey : I don’t care about the guys, be fr

Rafey : I’ll leave now and come straight to you

Say yes

Princess : Are you sure?

Rafe : Y/n

Princess : well

Princess : d’you want me to send the address

Rafey : send it

His little typing bubble disappears momentarily after she sent her location to the boy, she looked up as she walked towards the exit, cold air hitting her as she pushed open the doors, her phone buzzing in her hand.

Rafey : omw

Rafey : be there in 20

She stood outside the venue, the sky now dark, wind blowing strongly, pushing her hair around. Her dress swayed around her ankles, heel clasped feet resting against the pavement. She’d told her parents she was leaving, her mother dismissive, too involved in a conversation with another woman. She looked down to the floor. Even though the dress was so covered up and she’d been complaining about it, at least now she’s warm. She knew that Cooper’s house was definitely further than twenty minutes away, so she hoped that Rafe wasn’t being reckless as he made his way towards her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took him 15 minutes to drive to the venue, his car speeding along the streets as he tried to get to her as quickly as possible. As he pulled up to the venue, his eyes scanned the area, and his heart picked up the pace when he spotted her—standing alone near the entrance. She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted downward slightly. Even from this distance, he could see the discomfort radiating from her. The fancy dress that had been picked out for her didn’t seem to suit her at all, her body language screaming that she was out of place. When she finally reached the car, her hands instinctively moved to straighten her dress, tugging at the fabric nervously as if it wasn’t quite right. Her movements were almost apologetic, like she felt bad for needing him to be there,

“Heyyyy”

She elongated as she opened the door looking at the boy sitting in the driver's seat with a small sheepish smile on her lips. He let his eyes travel up from her feet to the top of her head, noticing the soft cream coloured, flowy dress, the way it fitted loosely against her skin. He couldn’t deny his amusement at the dress, remembering what she had told him about her mothers comment. It wasn’t as ugly as the girl had complained, but it was certainly different to what she usually wore. it was much more formal, much more….. of her mother’s influence? He let out a low huff of air a small smile on his lips in humour,

“You look…- good.”

“Yeah yeah” she rolled her eyes as she got into the car shutting it behind her, “laugh it up alright.”

He laughed as he took one more look over her figure, thinking how cute she looked sat there in the dress, all frustrated,

“What? I’m not allowed to compliment you now?”

“Just shut up Rafe,” she rolled her eyes. He smirked at her annoyance, but he’d missed the sound of his name falling from her lips. He’d missed the way her voice made something in his chest stir, the way it sounded when she got a little frustrated.

“But you look so pretty though, princess”

“Don’t tease.” She groaned, throwing her head back against the seat headrest. He was loving this already, the way he could already tell she wasn’t in the mood to put up with his teasing and playing. That was the most fun part. Making her react.

“I’m not teasing. You look nice in that dress. And the heels?” He paused to look down at her feet for a split second, “a real good look.”

She looked down to her short kitten heels, which her mother had insisted were appropriate for the event. She shook her head now a small amused smile on her face,

“I look like someone’s grandma…”

He let out a soft laugh because yes, the dress, the shoes, the earrings, the necklace, everything about this look was something someone’s grandma would wear to a fancy party, maybe even her own sixty fifth birthday?

“Yeah you look just like someone’s little old grandma”

She huffed out at his teasing, her hands reaching down to undo the little buckles on the heels, slipping them off, her white manicured nails now contrasting the dark carpet of the car mat they rested on. She reached her hands up to her ears, taking the earrings out and chuckling them into the cup holder, her fingers fiddling with the necklace clasp pulling it off and doing the same to the jewellery.

Jesus

He couldn’t help but watch the way her fingers moved as she stripped herself of the accessories her mother had shoved her into. looked down at the pile of jewelry now sitting in the holder and let out another low hum,

“Better?”

“She’s so…" she shook her head at her mother’s dramatics, “I don’t even know why she dragged me with them and made me dress up into this stupid get up if I didn’t even fucking talk to anyone.” She sighed out, hand coming to rub over the arch of her brow.

“I just don’t get her sometimes.”

He could hear the frustration in her voice when she talked about her mother. He knew she wanted to get along with her, she wanted her mother to love her and treat her like a daughter, not just some girl she's been forced to live with, but for some reason it didn’t work. The woman could be completely uncaring and downright cruel most of the time. He felt his hand reach over to grab her knee and squeezed it gently.

“She’s difficult, yeah? Don’t know why she doesn’t realise having a daughter like you's a blessing”

Her features softened, the comforting words warming her. She looked over to the boy with a small smile on her face, his side profile lit up by the streetlights they drove past. He could feel her eyes on him as he drove, burning against his skin, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road. His hand remained sitting on her knee, the warm skin a pheasant weight on his palm. He squeezed it again in comfort, giving her a soft smile, despite his focus being fixed in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy pulled up outside the girls house, having typed in the pin to the gate, memorising it after all these years, he drove up the paved drive to outside her house putting the car into park. Getting out of the car, he rounded to the passenger side quickly to pull the door for y/n, he held the door open as he waited for her to step out, his eyes roaming over her, from her now bare feet to the top of her head, hair slightly tousled from the wind earlier. She slid out the seat, walking side by side with the boy, feet hitting against the steps up to the front door before she turned to him,

“Thanks for coming tonight Rafe.”

“You should’ve called me earlier, I could’ve come sooner- I don’t like you being by yourself.” She smiled at his words, hand coming out to smooth out his polo collar which had scrunched,

“You coming in or d’you need to get back to the guys…?” She knew he’d probably just got up and left earlier, and she felt bad.

Only a little

His heartbeat faltered as her hand ran across the fabric of his chest, smoothing out the part that had folded in. He wanted so badly to take that hand in his and pull her closer to him. He swallowed, wondering what exactly he should do.

I should go back

He didn’t want to go back to the others, he didn’t care that much, they were all high out of their minds anyways. Here y/n was, right in front of him, disheveled hair and doe eyes looking up to him,

“I’ll come in”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She fiddled with the small glass bottle of serum, the glass pipette clinking against it, she pulled it up to her face and rubbed it into her skin. She sat at her vanity having just washed her makeup off, changing the moment they got upstairs, desperate to get the dress off. Rafe laid on her bed, face comfortably buried into her pillow, his phone in hand as he scrolled; the sheets and pillows that surrounded him all smelling of her, just the way he’d been hoping. He’d changed out of his clothes and into the pair of sweats and old t-shirt he kept at her place. He heard the glass bottle clink against her vanity as she squeezed the product into her hand and he glanced up at her, his eyes watching as she rubbed it in, her skin becoming glowy.

“You good?”

She asked as she saw his reflection in the mirror behind her, hands coming down to screw the bottle shut. His eyes trailed up over her back, from her exposed shoulder from the baggy short she wore to her face in the mirror. She looked so relaxed and comfortable like this. It made the warm, possessive feeling in his chest start swirling harder.

“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, “just…. watching you.”

“Creepy much?” She joked as she put the bottle away into one of her draws as the words tumbled past her lips. He huffed out a laugh at her words, shifting slightly on the bed.

“You love it.” He replied instantly, his eyes following her as she made her way to the bed.

She flopped down onto the bed next to him, it’d been a long day and her tiredness was starting to catch up to her. He smiled to himself as y/n ungracefully face planted into the pillows next to him. He shifted himself slightly so he was facing her, leaning his head on his propped up elbow, eyes tracking every single one of her tiny movements. She looked to the boy next to her as he stared back, his eyes roaming gently over her features; her tired, half closed eyes, the way her hand played with the duvet.

“Tired princess?”

“Yeah.” She hummed out as she grabbed her phone and pulled it up texting her parents to let them know she got home. He watched her fingers tapping against her phone screen,

“Midsummers is coming up.”

She raised her brows turning to him as she chucked her phone onto the bed somewhere,

“Already?”

He grinned a little at her words, slightly amused by that fact she hadn’t been keeping track of time.

“Yeah. In just over 2 weeks. Dad’s already started preparing for it”

“Shit I need a dress.” She sighed out hand coming up to rub her eye. He smirked at her words, a thought instantly popping into his mind ready to poke fun at the girl,

“Why not just use the one you wore tonight?”

She looked over to the boy with a deadpan expression on her face, “Didn’t know you were a comedian.” Yet she couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. His smirk grew wider as he watched her expression turn to one of amusement.

“And wear those heels and the earrings too?” He teased further.

“Okay Mr Cameron I get it."

She giggled at his playful words, “Are you wearing the same suit as last year?” She questioned remembering the black three piece his father made him wear, he had hated it.

A grimace appeared on his lip at the mention of the suit. He’d absolutely hated it, the thing itched like crazy, and the summer heat made it so much worse.

Fuck no

“No chance I’m wearing that shit again”

A smile drew up to her lips at his snarky comment,

“Well as long as my mom doesn’t pick the dress I’ll be good…. I think I want to go blue this year,” she hummed out. He looked at the girl, the image of her in a pretty blue dress forming in her mind.

“It’s a good colour on you” He commented, running his eyes over her bare legs, imagining how her skin would look against blue fabric.

“Thanks,” she spoke up, she sat up grabbing the remote control from her bedside table, flicking the tv in front of them on. The sound of her pressing the control buttons filled the comfortable silence of the room. Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles appeared on the screen, the girl having put her favourite film on again as she laid back. He rolled his eyes slightly, recognising the sound of ‘10 Things I Hate About You”.

“Seriously? Again?” He groaned but didn’t bother asking her to change it, knowing what the answer would be.

“C’mon I know you love it deep down but you’re too embarrassed to admit it.” She spoke up as she got comfortable, pulling her sheets up. Of course he did like the movie. The story was cliche and corny, but he’d watched the film more times than he’d ever admit with her.

“Oh yeah, it’s absolutely great.” He responded sarcastically. She offered some of the covers to him after rolling her eyes at him.

He smiled back at her slightly, taking the edge of the sheets and pulling them up over himself, instantly feeling the warmth of the girl next to him, practically pressed up against, she tended to get clingy when tired, or drunk, or high.

Maybe you’re just clingy in general

The movie played, the actors talking filling the now quiet room. The girl had gotten tired, her head having lulled over to the side, her temple resting against Rafes shoulder, her eyes closed as she breathed slowly, slumber having taken over.

The boy felt the way her head lolled over onto his shoulder, and the instant weight that settled on him. His arm instinctively slid behind her to pull her closer, the feeling of her warm body against him making his chest tighten with contentment.

He sat there for a while longer, half watching the movie, half staring at the girl resting quietly against him. Gentle breaths past her lips as she slept, lashes resting against her cheeks, she looked so pretty like this, so incredibly innocent and peaceful.

Careful not to wake her, he shifted slightly, getting more comfortable, pulling her with him. He lifted her across his lap so she was leaning comfortably against his chest instead of his shoulder.

As she settled more comfortably against him, her body fitting against his like she belonged there, his chest felt impossibly tight. His arm stayed draped around her, fingers brushing absentmindedly along her side, as he glanced down at her, movie now long forgotten as his gaze lingered on the way her hair framed her face. Her lips, slightly parted as she slept, tugged at something deep in his chest and he could feel every quiet rise and fall of her breath against him. His mind wandered, sitting here, holding her like this, he couldn’t ignore the way something deeper was growing inside him.

The realization hit him so hard, he almost froze. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before- little moments when he’d caught himself staring at her too long, or felt jealous when someone else made her laugh. But he’d always pushed it aside, afraid it could ruin what they’ve had for so long.

Now though, It felt inevitable.

Rafe’s hand moved, almost without thinking, brushing a strand of hair away from the girls face. His fingers lingered for a moment, barely grazing her skin, God, she was so beautiful. The thought was dizzying, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he pressed a feather-light kiss to the top of her head, his lips brushing her hair,

I love you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him

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kdogreads · 1 year ago

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You’re My Peace

Chef Luca x f!reader

TW: angsty Luca (before his Carmy epiphany), hurt/comfort-ish, cursing, established relationship

AN: I just love him 🥹 lmk what else reader x Luca should get up to! Thank you for reading 🫶

You weren’t sure what time it was when you finally heard the front door to your apartment open. You’d been in bed for an hour or two, but you couldn’t sleep without Luca softly snoring next to you, looking like your own personal Adonis even in his sleep.

He started rustling around in the kitchen as soon as the door shut, so you decided you’d get up and see what he was doing. Plus, you needed to know why he wasn’t coming to bed.

“Baby, what’s going on?” You ask groggily, startled that every light was on in the kitchen in the middle of the night, “Are you alright?”

“Sorry, my love, didn’t mean to wake you,” He stepped over to you and pecked a soft kiss into your forehead before turning back to the counter.

You stood in silence a moment, trying to make sense of all the utensils and plates Luca was pulling out of the cabinets at 1:30 — no, 1:33, you noticed — in the morning. He’d already been gone all day at school, putting in hours more than required.

“Baby,” You sighed and closed the gap between you, gently grabbing his face and making him look down at you, “Can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow? You have to be tired, Lu.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning over you so his lungs filled with the scent of your coconut shampoo. His lips pressed into the top of your head for a moment before he started to speak.

“I’ll be 10 minutes, love, I promise,” He kissed your forehead again, “Then I’ll come to bed.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, “Jesus, Luca, come on.”

You stepped back as his hands began reaching for the spice cabinet. He shot you an apologetic look before he started grabbing things off the shelf.

“I know, baby, it’s just that Carmy, ah, the bloke I’ve been telling you about-,” He rambled as you searched for any more patience left in your body, “-yeah, he made this, uh, this dish today and I’ve almost got it down—.”

His voice trailed off as he kept opening cabinets and drawers, pulling more spoons and bowls and testing your resilience all the while.

“Luca, please, it’s late—,” You started.

“Really, love, just 10 more minutes.”

“Luca—,” He kept moving, clearly not sensing your impending implosion.

“Baby, come on,” You tried one last time before you couldn’t keep your volume down anymore, “Luca!”

He instantly dropped the wooden spoon in his hand, turning his full attention to you. He never raised his voice at you, and you’d never yelled at him.

“Please, baby, listen to me,” You started softly, stroking his broad shoulders with a gentle touch, “You know how much I want this for you, and I love you so damn much for your dedication, but I need you to be here when you are here.”

Luca let out a shaky breath, his warm hands reaching up to cup your face tenderly. His slender fingers reached into your hair and pulled you up towards him, pressing his lips into yours in a slow, languid kiss.

He leaned back slightly, far enough to slide his right hand down to his chest, clutching it into a fist and circling his heart. I’m sorry.

You mirrored his motions, dropping your hand down to circle your own heart with a bit more fervor. I’m sorry, too.

You held each other’s gaze for a long moment until Luca closed his eyes and leaned his head into your shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist and pulled you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Your own arms drifted around his just as tight. One hand was tangled in his messy curls while the other drew pictures absentmindedly onto his back.

“I just thought I could be the best, thought I was the best,” Luca spoke into your neck, his muscles relaxing as your hands danced over them, “And realizing I’m not, that I never can be, it’s just—.”

“A lot,” You finish for him, helping him not have to think.

“A lot,” He mirrors.

“Hey,” You gently pull his face up to meet your soft gaze, “You don’t have to be the best to be really damn good.”

The corners of his mouth twitch up slightly, almost in a smile, “I know that now. I think I just had to— I don’t know, make peace with that.”

You send him a knowing smile as his lips drift to meet yours again, a little deeper this time.

“Plus,” You begin, “If anyone is going to out-chef you, Chef, it has to be Carmy. He’s like, from another planet or something.”

Luca huffs out a laugh and your heart immediately feels lighter.

“Carm is really good,” Luca chuckles, “He’s got something special.”

“Just as special as you have, Lu.”

He kisses you like he’s trying to pour all of his love into you in just this moment. Your mind swirls as his lips leave yours, batting your eyes open to clear your head.

You placed a peck on his firm shoulder and step away to head back to bed. It’s only a few seconds of clanging until Luca is closing your bedroom door behind him.

“Dishes’ll be there tomorrow,” He mumbles as he climbs into bed, his weight practically collapsing into the plush surface.

You slid into place beside him, one leg tangled over his as his strong arms pull you into his chest. Luca’s warm hands sent a shiver up your spine.

“I should’ve just talked to you, my love. I’m sorry,” Luca stroked his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Heard, Chef,” You smirked but meant it just the same, “Can’t scare me off that easy.”

Luca smiled and tucked you into his chest, wanting to hold you as close as he could. His heart beat evened out as he felt your own, strong and steady, drawing him out of his anxiety.

You ran your fingertips of Luca’s toned back as he pressed gentle kisses into your cheek and neck. The two of you shared a comfortable, warm silence for a moment before a thought popped into Luca’s head.

“I thought I had to make my own peace,” He pulled away from you so he could see your face, “But I think you are my peace, love. You are always the answer.”

Your eyes prickled with tears, seeing the truth and adoration in Luca’s gaze. He’s saying all this while you’re trying to figure out how he thinks he’s the lucky one.

You wrack your brain for the right words, but all that comes out is, “I love you so fucking much, Lu.”

Luca stared down at you lovingly, planting needy kisses onto your lips.

“I love you just the same, my peace.”

————

It wasn’t more than a month before a delicate peace dove tattoo showed up on Luca’s forearm. Followed closely by a framed portrait of he and Carmy on the wall in your kitchen.

“Both sent me to war,” He teased when you questioned the timing, “But both brought me peace.”

#luca the bear #luca x reader #chef luca x reader #chef luca #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #kdogreads

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misdeliria · 3 months ago

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THE MONSTER'S HERE; j. todd

It was a routine covert investigation. Emphasis on covert.

Your apartment was meant to be empty when Jason climbed through the window. No sounds were coming from outside your home office, which he was counting on—after a series of days, he deduced you were following your routine. You were most likely across town now, attending meetings at your day job.

Jason took the opportunity to plant all his listening devices. One is on the plant, another is under your desk, and the last is inside the clock.

Disassembling the clock was light work, but with all the little pieces and Jason’s massive fingers, reassembling the device took an extra minute too long. He didn’t get a chance to open your desk's top drawer when the lock on your front door clicked.

What were you doing at home so early? You were supposed to be at work.

Your strides outside were directly approaching your home office. Did you know he was here?

With no time to escape out the window without getting caught, Jason decided to play it cool, throwing himself in your chair and crossing his legs as the knob turned.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d finally make your move,” is the first thing you say when you step inside. You haven’t even looked at him, glancing around the room and smiling at the plant that held his plant. “I hope you didn’t break my clock.”

You’re dressed for work with wide-bottom slacks and a padded blazer. Your hair was down, and you looked refreshed—not surprised or out of breath.

“Christ, you’re annoying,” Jason sighed through his voicemod. “Do you know how long that took?”

“I imagine a frustrating length.”

You were smooth. Jason had to restrain himself from reacting behind the mask at every intention you did. You took the seat by the window in the corner, eyes trailing from the bookcase to the rug before landing on him leisurely at the desk.

“Did you find anything good?”

“How did you know?”

How did you know where the listening devices were? How did you know he would choose a Tuesday mid-morning at a random time?

You imitated his lax posture, crossing your arms with a haughty look.

“Because I know you, Jason.” You sound earnest as you say it, and Jason’s whole body tenses. There’s nothing on your desk for him to pretend to be interested in and give any indication that you’re wrong. But his training is lost on him.

“But you don’t remember me,” you murmur, eyes never leaving his helmet. You’re giving everything away in your body language, your shoulders sagging, the downturn in your brows and lips: This must be a trap.

“Uh oh, didn’t realize I was dealing with a jealous ex,” Jason laughs. “Which one were you again?” Why was he provoking her?

He must’ve hit a nerve because you just frown with a tick in your jaw.

“How much do you know?” This catches Jason’s attention. This could work out for him.

“You work at a club near Gotham Heights. Your boss has recently been dealing with Roman Sionis.” If he gave you a little nudge on the subject, you’re bound to give him more details.

Your expression falls in disappointment, and you suddenly look tired of him.

“If that’s all you’re here for, I’m sorry to disappoint.” You don’t look at all that sorry. “He doesn’t keep me in the loop often. I don’t know anything.”

“There’s a shipment next week, and I want to know what’s in those containers.”

You exaggerate a sigh, throwing your head back while rolling your eyes. “You’re so demanding. It’s amazing how you’ve become successful in your line of work. Do you even know what I do at the club?”

Jason kept quiet under the helmet, racking his brain for your role. You were only labeled as hired as an employee in the records, but it didn’t specify what. Another question on the long list he wanted answers to.

“Burbank, my boss, runs an underground fighting ring alongside the club. It’s a front.”

“Yeah, I know.” What does that have to do with you?

“Come on, use your head,” you jeer, and an epiphany sparks when your eyes glow blue. You smile with an ominous aura and tell him, “I’m his security.”

Jason instinctively reaches for the strap on his hip, but you tsk at him.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Who are you?” Jason spits venomously, mildly panicking at this new development. Your home office was an average domestic room, so it was safe to say the rest of your apartment was also. You worked a 9 to 5, and yet you fought for an underground fight club. And, worst of all—

You knew exactly who he was.

“I’m not that surprised you don’t recognize me,” you muse. “I started dying my hair after your funeral.”

His funeral? Were you his classmate? Wait—

“Who are you?” Jason demanded this time. The image of a dark-haired girl in a Gotham Academy uniform flashed through his mind. She was the daughter of an elite, the youngest in a family of men.

“I think you know who I am,” you answer, leaning against the chair armrest. “And it’s so good to see you again.”

a/n: just practicing rn; might add more later

#robin jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd i love you #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc robin #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction

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maybeyoullfindthissomeday · 4 months ago

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Carls,

If you found this, then either you were really lucky or I did something really stupid. Either way, I hope these words find you well. I think we were always firm believers in things happening for a reason. And maybe, I had to get through those "things" to be able to get to you, to enable me to put forward the best version of myself, because that's what you deserve: the best. Not saying that I am the best that this world has to offer, because obviously, I'm not. It’s that I know within every fiber of my being I would do my best to make you feel love like you have never felt before. You know more than anybody what these past two years took and what re-wiring had to occur to find true happiness, maybe something I’ve never ever felt before. Not saying things would be perfect everyday between us because it won’t be. There’ll be a few bad days and the mediocre days, but then those make the good days seem worth it, especially the best days like we had in Chicago, where I had an epiphany and fell for you during Illenium’s set.

Please know that I did try to let the feelings fade, but they didn't, at least not enough to prevent me from writing my shitty poetry for you. But you're here now, and all I can say is that I'm sorry. These poems might be seen as a violation of trust, and/or ruining the pureness of our friendship. It’ll be clear why I had to hide this, at least until the moment was right. So if you’re uncomfortable about the sexual nature of some of these poems, then there’s a link on the side menu to skip them. However if you’re curious, then they’re here for your all-viewing pleasure, but I beg of you to please understand that a lot of this is art and maybe release (not that kind, lol, just catharsis). When you write about love, sometimes the lust breaks through too, and also, sex is easy to write about, at least, for me. I hope you know that I rarely think about it when we spend time together, even though you know I’m a sex and love addict. I believe you know more than anybody that we didn’t become friends with each other for the reason that you were attractive and that there was a possibility of us being together. You were never a back-up plan, and you never should be. You are my best friend, and if there is anybody I want to do life with, it's exactly that, a partner in crime, a festival buddy, a confidant, and a soulmate. And there shouldn't be any secrets between such a pair... so here is my writing from at least since Chicago, and I’m sure you can read between the lines.

I’m ready when you are...

#0 #only you carls #gold #pinned here forever

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 7 months ago

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heartthrob ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

note: the year is 2007, and as all romcoms do— none of this makes proper sense. (inspired greatly by notting hill, 1999)

summary: a coffee shop, the owner, hollywood's most famous actor, and a meet-cute

warnings: a cuss word here and there

genre: romcom

“Hello,” A baritone voice came after the telltale toll of the shop bell— baritone yet young, vaguely familiar but definitely not someone she knew well. “Are you open?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute!” She yelled back from the kitchen. She pursed her lips as she gave the cupboard a final thrust, the dodgy thing has always been a right pain in the arse.

“Hi, how can I help you, sir?” She asked cheerily as she emerged from the side door, the soles of her boots tapping loudly against the aged wooden floors.

She paused in her steps when she saw the sopping wet figure at the door, standing awkwardly and apprehensively at the threshold. Droplets of water trickled down from the sleeves of his coat down to the WELCOME rug placed conveniently at the entrance. “Oh, gods! Are you alright?”

“You don’t happen to have any tissues in here, do you?” He asked with a tight smile.

“Unfortunately, no. We’ve run out at the moment.” She scrambled to grab the nearest tea towel from the cabinet before rushing over to help him. “This’ll have to do.”

“Thank you.” Their fingers grazed as he took the fabric from her hold. “I’m sorry for making such a mess.”

“It’s fine! The floorboards needed a bit of a clean anyway.” She joked with a half-hearted grin in an attempt to ease the atmosphere. “I can have your jacket dried in the back if you want.”

“Oh, I can’t possibly intrude any further.” He waved his hand to veto her suggestion before tending to himself once more.

“You’re not from here, are you?” She asked with a sudden interest. With each minute he spent in her presence, she felt like she was closer and closer to figuring out exactly who this man was. She’d seen him enough times, surely. His name was at the tip of her tongue.

“The accent wasn’t a dead giveaway?” He grinned at her.

“Well, you get your occasional round of Americans here and there.” She shrugged her shoulders. “The sunnies were a bit on the nose though.”

He clicked his tongue, quickly pulling the pair down his face and placing it against the neckline of his shirt. “The weather report said it was going to be sunny.”

“Weather reports are dodgy.” She raised her eyebrow knowingly.

“I’m guessing it doesn't rain often where you’re from?”

“Twice every year,” He pursed his lips. “But I’m never around enough to know how true that actually is.”

“Sounds like you travel a lot.”

“A fair amount. My work keeps me away from home.”

“Ah,” She nodded her head. She must’ve seen him in a travel advert somewhere. “What do you do exactly?”

“Well, I’m an actor.”

She stopped to look at him more carefully, tilting her head sideways from one direction to the next to get a hint. She met his gaze momentarily, her eyes squinting as she wracked her brain for any clue of who he might be. He looked at her expectantly.

The dozens of movie posters she'd seen at the cinema came to her with a dazzling clarity. Ecstatic by her epiphany, she slammed her hand against the counter loudly— inducing a painful bang and an equally pain-stricken howl almost immediately.

“Are you OK?!” He asked with a panicked edge to his tone. He shoved the tea towel down his pocket carelessly as he ambled over to her. “I don’t know the emergency numbers here so I’m gonna have to either carry you or drag you— whichever comes first.”

She laughed loudly in amusement whilst nursing her hand, the pain slowly ebbing away as he continued to fuss over her. “I can’t believe it! Luke Castellan is in my depressing little shop!”

“Wait, fuck, are you sure you’re OK?” Luke mouth twitched, as if contemplating whether this was an appropriate time to laugh. He looked at her as if she’d gone insane. Maybe she did, maybe she actively was. This oddly seemed like the stuff of delusions.

“Yes, I’m fine!” She flipped her wrists as if to show him. “Healthy as a horse.”

He cracked a smile at her comment.

The bell let out a loud clang as a young man peeked his head into the shop, his umbrella left out in the street to protect him from the rain. “Luke! I’ve been trying to contact you for the last hour!”

“I suppose that’s your cue to leave then.” She smiled bashfully, the embarrassment catching up instantaneously. She was rubbish at this.

“I guess it is.” He hummed lowly with a grimace. He gave her a once over. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Luke, maybe hurry the fuck up?” The young man grumbled impatiently.

“Right,” She nibbled on her lower lip. “Thanks for coming around.”

“I’ll come back and actually buy something.” He said as he turned to leave.

“I’ll put you up to that.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

She was in the middle of a yawn when a loud voice called from across the street, a familiar tea towel gripped between ring-clad fingers and a head of black curls bobbing through the crowds.

It was still quite early in the morning, but Notting Hill was buzzing with life.

“Hey!” Luke yelled as he hurriedly walked towards her, expertly maneuvering himself between the masses of people and the stalls that lined the road. “I accidentally brought this with me. I had it cleaned and everything.”

“Thank you,” She said as she received it. The keys to the shop dangled between her fingers, waiting to be used. “You could have done away with the old thing.”

“It felt right to give it back.” He gave her a smile, more performative than yesterday— dazzling and charming, nothing less from an actor, of course. “It might have been sentimental, being in a display cabinet and all.”

“Well, it’s memorabilia from a royal wedding some decades ago.” She responded with a blush. “My mum likes to collect these things.”

“At least it’s got some national value to it.” He raised his eyebrows.

“There’s that, yeah.” She chuckled. “My mum’s gonna be relieved, I’m sure. Thank you, Luke— may I call you Luke?”

He stared at her for a moment; what for? She wasn’t exactly sure, but it was certainly magnetic. She couldn’t move away and it felt like everything else aside from the man in front of her was a blindspot. Her eyes met his, and Luke’s grin grew imperceptibly wider and her heart thumped indescribably faster.

“Sure, yes, definitely.” Catching himself, he stood straighter. His face looked ruddy, either owed mostly to the sunbeams warming his skin or the excitement thrumming underneath his flesh. “I’d like that.”

He stuffed his hand into his pocket, just in time to tend to his phone’s shrill ringtone and its incessant vibrations. Luke groaned as he pulled it out. “It’s probably my manager. I have to go, unfortunately.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, equally as red as his cheeks despite the lack of direct sunlight against her skin. “Sorry to hear that. Have fun spending the afternoon slaying monsters.”

“The movie's about a bunch of kids on a cruise ship actually,” He laughed as he began to walk away backwards, his eyes completely fixated on her.

“Well, have fun doing that then.” She waved him off with an amused smile.

“I doubt it.” He winked at her before turning around at the curb then jogging down to god knows where.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“Hey, mum.” She greeted when she walked into their shared flat, the whistle of the kettle loudly whooshing from the kitchen. “Did someone ring the shop while I was gone?”

It took her mother a minute to respond, too enraptured by David Beckham’s impeccable left-leg hurl into the opposing team’s goal. She listened attentively to the live play-by-play narration as she made herself a cup of tea, the announcer was basically gripping his seat with anticipation. Telltale cheers of a victory echoed through the walls.

“Mum?” She called again.

“Oh, yes, sorry, dear!” Her mother replied distractedly. “There was a young bloke that called… think he mentioned his name was Luke.”

Thank the gods she was alone in the kitchen because the silent giddy squeals and foot stomps were definitely concerning. Christ, was this real life?

She cleared her throat and feigned nonchalance. She drummed her fingers against the marble surface of the counter, her nails absently digging against old remnants of a sticker. “And what did he say?”

“He said he’s staying at the Ritz under Hermes, so give that name to the concierge if you wanna call.” A beat. “Have you gotten yourself a boyfriend?"

“He’s not.”

“Be more definitive,” Her mother snapped. Teasingly, she added: “Not ever or not yet?”

“I’m not so sure, actually.” She clicked her tongue, wracked by pensive thoughts of juvenile daydreaming. She was getting ahead of herself, surely. She needed to approach this from a rational perspective: Luke Castellan had a whole life in Hollywood, decidedly not London. He had a bombshell girlfriend back at home with a career just as luxurious as his. He was a star burning brightly and she could barely get herself to flicker.

“Doesn’t sound like a ‘not ever’ to me.” Her mother responded with a lilt to her voice.

She swallowed thickly at how foreboding it sounded.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson

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toomiieimagiines · 5 months ago

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hihihihihi

rui kamishiro having crush on his friend (reader) n then confessing to them by accident like they r handing out one day and he quietly says ‘i love you so much’ without realising

please and tyy <333 have a good day darl!!

THIS IS THE CUTEST REQUEST EVERRR!!! UGHHH MY HEART HURTS! i saw your other submission, i’m just replying to this one because it’s the actual request!! ur the best, thank you all for so many asks! this is the longest thing i’ve written on here! this sparked me with so much inspiration!! sorry if it gets a little emo, i’ve not been feeling all that well myself recently mentally! ^_^” sorry for projecting on you rui!

CW: it gets really angsty, but it’s a hurt comfort, i promise! food as a metaphor for love at the beginning. reverse comfort. rui is autistic coded sorry i just can’t help myself

Rui Kamishiro is an idiot.

Rui had a problem.

A problem that swelled up in his stomach, travelled to his chest, and landed in a horrible place- his heart. He didn’t even notice it at first too, the warmth in the back of his throat, the burning in his lungs. Countless days sitting at his desk, mindless tinkering with something, wondering why he suddenly felt so apprehensive around you. A shocking pain filled his gut,

Rui Kamishiro was in love with one of his best friends.

He couldn’t stop it. He tried to snap himself out of it- he really did! He knows he can’t feel that way, knows it isn’t right. He feels so perverted every time he’s next to you because all he can think of is how your lips would feel on his, how sweet your gaze is on him, how you’d warm his cold hands-

God, he’s the worst. Thoughts would slurry through his head every time you’re near. You’re his friend! He should be thankful you want to speak to him, it’s selfish to feel this way about somebody, especially somebody like you.

He truly believes that close relationships like those, are not for the likes of him.

He braces himself for the day you realize that he would be no good as a lover - he’s sure you know - but he comes to a gut wrenching epiphany that he doesn’t seem to mind all the much how you’re in his life. He loves you, but you like him, and he can deal with that. He can take friendship, what he can’t take is disgust, that’d be agony to him, so he’ll make sure you never feel that way towards him.

He locks his feelings deep inside where nobody can ever find them. Not you, not Nene, not anybody.

And he’s okay. Truly, genuinely, okay with it. He should take what he can get. He should be grateful you talk to him.

He sighs, lost in his thoughts, you shoot him a look. He shouldn’t have done that, he laments, he’s probably gone and worried you.

Class ends quickly, he dodges you ‘till lunch time.

You find him, you always were good at quickly sniffing him out. What a predicable friend you have, you muse. The two of you sit down, a pregnant silence overtaking the both of you.

“Rui? You’ve been-“ you search for the word, “spacey. You feel alright? No one was bothering you or anything, right?” You jab whatever was in your lunchbox today, as if killing the meat for a second time. Your tongue lulled out in concentration, he lets out an amused laugh.

“Aren’t I always spacey?” His head cocks to the side, a lopsided smile appearing. How come all of his worries about you vanish when you two are like this? Isn’t this supposed to make him feel worse?

“Spacier than usual.” You decide, pointing your utensil at him threateningly. “I know you better than you think, don’t play with me.”

Not well enough, he wants to beg. He wants to know you in every way possible, wants you to know him-

“You’re doing it again!” You groan, shoving a bite into your mouth. Your face lights up at the taste, it’s endearing to him - well everything about you is endearing to him. “Ooo! Try this!” You beam, grabbing some between your chopsticks.

He thinks you’re going to place it on this lunchbox, but is shocked when you just stare at him, holding the food an inch or two away from his mouth. He opens his mouth, and you let him take it between his lips.

A thousand thoughts flurry in his head again, and he tries to grasp at them desperately to contain himself. A few rose colored pieces of paper appeared in his hand.

The first, was that that was way too domestic. That’s what you’d do with a lover. That’s what you’d do on a picnic in a meadow, a radio playing classical- God, his emotions are really getting to the better of him. When did he start thinking about things like that?

The second paper he discovered, was the realization that your lips had touched those very chopsticks too. Did you not realize that you had just touched your lips to his - in a way? Did you not care? Maybe it was meant to be familiar, he’d drink off Nene all the time.

The last paper was a simple thought, a thought he would actually be willing to tell you about.

That was really good.

He realized you had been watching him intensely, and he prays that you didn’t see his face contort three times in the 8 seconds he had been chewing. You looked at him as if you were expecting a response, and the paper butterflies stop shooting all over the place.

“Good, right?” You say, egging him along like a parent who had finally gotten their child to resign and eat vegetables. He’s always been particular, even now his lunch box only really had snacks in it. You’re glad when you see him eating.

He decides to give you a hum of approval, and a nod of his head. He doesn’t trust himself to talk to you. You feel giddy that he enjoyed it, and it shows on your face. He feels giddy too.

“You should eat more. I can start making you lunch that you’ll actually like if that’s what it takes. You’re looking pale.” You tease, shoving him gently. “Is that why you’re so spacey today? Because you’re hangry?”

You’re a good friend, he thinks. You’re such a good friend, and that’s why I love you.

“I’m not hangry!” He pushes you back, laughing heartily. “And you don’t need to bother making me lunches. I’m capable, I just don’t want to.”

“Whatever than, weirdo. Starve.” You shrug, “if you pass out during a show and I have to nurse you back to health, I’ll say I told you so!”

You two finish eating quickly, not really talking that much, and he’s resigned to looking down guiltily during class again. School flashes by quickly. He has rehearsal today, he wants to groan. Maybe it’ll take his mind off things. He has a new idea to pitch to Tsukasa anyway.

Rui soon discovers that rehearsal isn’t going to be all that good today. He steps on Nenes foot twice, he runs into Emu a handful of times, and now he’s in a bad mood because on top of all of his thoughts, Tsukasa turned down his idea for a flame shooting Robo-Nene.

“Rui!!” Nene whispers, breaking him out of his thoughts when she jabs him in the side. “Cmon, you gotta pay attention or ‘Kasa’ll get moody.”

She cares about him, in her own sisterly way. It’s funny. He’s sure she can even guess what he’s thinking about.

“Sorry, Nene..” He says softly, rubbing his face in frustration. Why does he have to be such a freak? He wishes he were more like Tsukasa. Tsukasa probably doesn’t have paper butterflies in his head.

What a dumb thought that was, paper butterflies. He wishes he didn’t have stupid thoughts like that. Normal people don’t think of feelings that way, he knew you definitely didn’t think that way, what a weird person he was.

Rehearsal passes after time, he leaves quickly, too quick for him to even offer walking back with Nene. She’s going to Emu’s probably, he thinks so at least. He checks his phone, a notification from none other than ‘Weirdo’ - your doing, not his - Popping into view. You had insisted he’d change your contact when you had seen it was simply your name. It always got a chuckle out of him, despite the irony of you calling yourself the weird one.

Weirdo: wanna come over after your dance dance time?? i need help with math, mr smarty!

Me: Sure, I guess I can spare some brain power. Let me whip up a little Rui Math magic

Did that sound weird? Whatever. He sends it, changing his route to end up on your street instead. The walk is filled with the usual misery of a smitten teenage boy, apprehensive feelings washing over him. He prepares what he should talk about, repeating things that he’s sure wouldn’t be weird to say. He wishes he could make feelings disappear, he wishes he could disappear really. What a different world it would be if he weren’t in it, what a better life you’d have if he weren’t in it. He shakes his head, trying to block that away. He’s so dramatic, it makes his skin crawl in disgust.

He knocks on your door, but quickly gets another text.

Weirdo: just come in.. i left it unlocked!

You should really be more careful, he frets, opening the door and pulling off his shoes. He thinks you’re too trusting of people, even of people like him. If you knew his disgusting thoughts of love towards you, you’d certainly be frightened. Like when a miserable diseased stray wants you to pet it. Actually, you’re too kind to be deflected from petting a flea-ridden animal. That’s just the kind of person you are, maybe that’s why you two are so close.

He pushes the door of your room open, being met with the dejected stare you’re giving your math homework.

“Rui,” you look up at him, “I think I may be stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He chides, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Whatever, I give up!” You toss it onto your desk.

“I just got here, I haven’t even tried to help you yet!” He says amused, trying to go grab it. you stop him, pulling him back next to you. His breath gets caught in his throat. You’re close to him, way too close to him.

“Honestly, I used that as an excuse for you to hang out with me. I was desperate, okay?!”

Those words shock him. You thought you’d have to trick him into hanging out with you? Did you not know how devoted he was to seeing you? Just the thought of you wanting to see him mad him giddy. If only you knew how quick he’d go if you’d asked him to be there.

He tries not to think about how close you two are. It’s not weird, Rui, they’re your friend. Friends lay together, don’t they? He’s played video games together with Nene in her bed, this is normal. He’s looking too much into this. What a weirdo he was for thinking like this, he’s a total slime ball.

“Y’know, Rui.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, your touch lingering as you nudge him. “If you want to talk to me about something, you can.”

He feels like he’s been shoved under water, the current throwing his body around. Everything is too stressful, and now even your presence can’t make the weird thoughts go away. He suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close you are to him. He’s guiltily dreamed about being this close to you, feeling your warmth, touching him gently like you always did.

Those dreams weren’t for the likes of him, he can’t hope for things like that, he tries to remind himself every chance he gets.

So why does this feel so real? Why can he smell your perfume, and see your worried face, and feel you touching him so tenderly. You can’t keep getting his hopes up like this. He wishes he could be a good friend for you.

He wishes he didn’t love you in such a depraved, disgusting way. He wishes he wasn’t such an odd person. He wishes he didn’t think the way he did. He wants to be normal.

“Rui?” You say worried, grabbing his cheek. Stop it, he wants to beg. He can’t feel you in this way and act like it’s normal. He can’t be this close to you and be casual about it.

His face contorts into something awful, a helpless expression coming forth. His mouth opens to beg you to understand that he is okay. He truly is okay.

“I love you, so much.” The words are like a ghost, shooting out of him. His breath gets caught in his throat, and so does yours.

What?? How could he do that?? All he can feel is despair curling up inside of him. His worst fear is going to come true, you’re disgusted. This is the most humiliating thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. He’s failed the one rule he set between the two of you, you’re going to leave his life forever. You’re gone now. This is worst than any torment he’s ever faced in school.

He needs to try and defend himself.

“I-“ His words are hasty, and he reaches to tear your hands off of his face to grab them earnestly. “I- I don’t know why I said that-“

He finds himself unable to continue talking, what can’t he talk?

Your mouth is on his.

His face relaxes, his brows unfurrowing as he hums miserably into it. He grabs you desperately, relishing in how wonderful your lips feel. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t-

He deepens the kiss, trying to bask in you for just a second longer. His thoughts are all gone now. It’s just you, you, you.

It’s hasty, and needy, and salty. Your noses bump together carelessly, your teeth scrape each other. It’s both your first time kissing anybody, after all.

You two part shortly after. He’s panting, and so are you.

His breath gets caught once again once he sees the depraved line of spit connecting you two. You wipe his cheek, when did he start crying? How embarrassing.

“Rui Kamishiro, you’re strange.” You smile shakily, voice sickly-sweet with fondness. “is that what’s been on your mind this whole time?

He nods, apprehensive to admit anything.

“I love you too, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.”

You say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he doesn’t love you like a stay dog loves the person who gives him scraps. He feels like everything is lifted off of him, like his head is finally above water.

He can’t help but let out a pathetic gasp. It makes his skin crawl. “I-“

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” You bring him towards yourself, holding him so gently he thinks he’ll faint.

He decides that he’s willing to be guilty if it means he gets to be like this with you.

What a selfish, hormonal, smitten, weird, depraved boy he is.

Strawberry chapstick, huh?

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