richardpooleimagines

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine celebrating your birthday with [the Saint Marie gang and] Richard! (part 2/2)

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A/N: so here it finally is and damn it took me too long to post it, my bad. also i find the world’s lack of images & gifs of starlit beaches disturbing

Part two of the original request by the super awesome @cake-and-umbrellas!!!!!!! 

Pairing: Detective Inspector Richard Poole x reader

Warnings: Richard rants for like 200 minutes, fluffy kisses (oh dear), sand (dw it’s unmentioned)

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Back at the Shack, Richard opened the passenger door for you and when he held out his arm without a word you took it and cocked your head to the side in question. He hadn't said anything for the entire car ride.

Needless to say you gasped when he opened the front door and you were drenched in the beautiful orange glow of hundreds of little fairy lights, hung from the ceiling and wrapped around the tree that grew through the middle of his living room. Your grasp tightened on his arm as you looked up at him, near to tears, "What's going on Richard?"

He smiled softly. Finally, after a long day and a night of partying with your friends at Catherine's, it was near midnight and he finally had you right where he wanted you: so close to being in his arms so he could tell you how much he loved and appreciated you. 

"Shhhh," he put a finger to his lips and untangled his arm from yours, taking off his suit jacket, tie, rolling up his sleeves, and undoing the first few buttons. As he did this you watched him curiously, your cheeks tinted rouge (trying not to pass out from the sheer masculine appeal that Richard was exuding with his rolled up sleeves and few undone buttons). What was going on?

His silent answer came when he held out his hand and led you slowly out to the porch and then onto the sand along the starlit beach.

Forearms linked and fingers woven together, it was lovely to feel the contact usually not felt when he had his sleeves rolled down and suit jacket on. He hoped you didn't notice how his skin was searing where it was pressed against yours, contrasting with the cool salty sea breeze that whipped around you both. His blood was running hot because even after all this time together, your laugh and smile and eyes and everything you did made his heart flip somersaults.

Aglow with bright moonlight, you walked along for a ways. When you stopped, you could hear Richard take a deep breath - you were holding yours- and release a heavy sigh, before he turned to you and took both your hands in his. Your birthday was becoming more and more magical every minute you spent with him, and you were on the verge of dizzy with how romantic this all was.

"I'm sorry," he said.

His words took you by surprise as you froze in horror and furrowed your brows, your heart having leapt to your throat. You could see Richard's face contort into confusion with your sudden change of expression.

"You're breaking up with -"

"-What? No? No! No of course not," he looked at you, incredulous.

"Oh thank god," you let out a rush of air.

Taking a second to relax and giving you a moment to release the sheer panic you just experienced, he gazed at you apologetically. His hands were warm and gentle around yours, and you stared back at him in awe, you loved him so much. "What are you sorry for then?"

"I - I, well," he began, "I wanted tonight to be special, because it was your birthday."

You giggled and shook your head, "It was special, Richard, everyone was so wonderful."

"No, I mean I wanted to make tonight special for you. I had quite a bit planned out..." he sighed and looked away at the nearby waves, "I'm sorry that sounds terribly selfish of me."

You were stunned, Richard was grumpy the whole night because he wanted to spend your birthday evening alone? Oh, your precious, sweet, well-meaning, absolutely dense Detective Inspector. You grinned broadly, blushing, "No, you did make it special for me, by being there. ...And for being with me," you added.

"Oh!" he let go of your hands, "that reminds me!" fumbling in his trouser pocket he pulled out a small, long rectangular box. Your eyes widened and you could feel your head beginning to spin. "I got you something."

"You didn't have to-"

"No, I did," he handed it to you, blushing. "I hope you like it. It was my great-grandmother's. I got my mother to send it by priority mail. To be honest I was shocked it actually arrived."

Opening the box, you felt the tears beginning to well up. It was a simple but elegant, beautiful, beautiful wristwatch with a black band. It looked very vintage and very well taken care of. "It's gorgeous!" You were trembling and your heart was racing as he offered to help you put it on.  He was close enough then that when his warm breath fanned your cheeks and fingertips lightly brushed your wind-chilled skin it sent shivers all over you. And when he finished and didn't step back, you let your eyes roam over all of him, appreciating the slightly disheveled, vulnerable, unprofessional, entirely whole-hearted and kind Richard that no one else except you was allowed to see.

"I know it sounds cheesy," he paused and rubbed the back of his neck, "But you ground me. And you complete me. And to be fair, you make solving cases a lot easier since you - well you are the best part of my day and a lot of my stress is gone when I see you - well that is besides being able to have a lovely cool shower when it's ridiculously hot outside ... but then again even those sometimes don't go according to plan because of Harry thinking it's okay to sneak up on me in there - so I suppose when you weigh all of the cons of being on this godforsaken tropical island, you truly are the best part of my day. And don't even get me started on my not being able to have a decent conversation with anyone of Camille, Dwayne or Fidel, or Catherine for that matter. And they probably think that it's okay to - wait I hope they didn't make you...No they couldn't possibly have," he briefly interrupted this thought to wave it off and shake his head, then he continued, too nervous to stop, "Did you know I was going to cook you dinner? It was going to be one of those lovely, traditional, good British dishes. I mean I'm not the best at cooking, but I thought you'd have liked to help me. We could've worked it out together. And then after we were going to watch any movie you wanted. And I even bought some of those desserts you love. I know it wasn't a cake but we could've blown out some candles anyway. I'm sorry that-"

You grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him, shutting up his directionless ranting. He froze, hands mid-air. But you didn't shy away and just as suddenly as he had tensed, he completely relaxed against your lips and returned it with a joy that sent happy warmth flooding through you. The fireworks were bursting from your head to your toes and you reveled in how soft and gentle his mouth was against yours.

When you finally pulled away, it was because humans still needed oxygen to survive. He held you in his arms, they'd slid around your waist and yours around his broad shoulders, during the kiss.

You could've stayed like that for eternity, drowning in each other's souls. He let out a shaky breath, "Wow," his emerald eyes were wide with happy surprise. "You can't imagine how long I've dreamt of that," he whispered confidentially.

"Really?" you mumbled, flushed, raising your eyebrows.

"Is it my birthday or yours?"

You giggled and rolled your eyes.

He frowned slightly, "I'm sorry for having made you go out of your way to do that. I ought to have kissed you instead. It's just that I -"

So you cut him off by kissing him again sweetly. He made no protest. In fact his grasp around you tightened and one of his hands slid up your waist into your hair to deepen the kiss eagerly. Your racing heart fluttered and you tangled your fingers in his short brown locks.

Breaking apart you stared at each other, breathless, and entirely head over heels in love,"Come on, let's go back inside, it's only midnight. We still have lots of time to do all of what you planned. I'm also willing to accept your apologies for my supposedly absolutely no good horrible birthday in the form of your kisses, Detective Inspector Poole."

He grinned, red from ear to ear, "Gladly, my love."

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine celebrating your birthday with the Saint Marie gang and Richard! (part 1/2)

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A/N: This is coming really very, very late. So I apologize (for my lateness as well as this fic’s very very poor writing *sigh*). 

I’d also like to thank @cake-and-umbrellas profusely whose idea was this prompt, and whose birthday it was recently! 🎉🎇

Pairing: Detective Inspector Richard Poole x Reader

Warnings: flufffff, peeeer presssure

(also this is horrible of me, but I’m not 100% sure of what kind of phone Richard has, so forgive this iphone format, i just pulled up a random template. i dont even have an iphone)

                                 Richard put down his phone with a huff, "There, happy?"

"Very. I don't know why you thought it would be okay to keep Y/N's birthday a secret from us, Sir," Camille shook her head and finished securing a bunch of helium filled balloons to Richard's desk.

"Yeah, Chief, you know how much we love her," Dwayne chastised, setting out the right amount of candles for your cake.

Richard frowned, he wanted your birthday to be special, he'd had something planned for later and he didn't want you to be all partied out with your friends so that you wouldn't enjoy it! His train of thought was cut into as Fidel shouted from the doorway.

"She's coming up the staircase! Everyone, to your places!" Fidel scrambled back from the door and came to stand with Dwanye and Camille - Richard stood a little way's apart, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

"Surprise!!! Happy Birthday Y/N!!!"

You could not hold back your shock as you stepped through the doorway. Camille ran at you and gave you a big hug. You were still speechless as Dwayne and Fidel then came up and gave you their hugs and well wishes.

"Thank you guys so much this is wonderful!"

"Oh please, Y/N, we love you, it's nothing!" Camille shrugged.

"That's right! Anyone who can make the Chief happy when he's being the Chief is worthy of anything in our books!" Dwayne bobbed his head, grinning.

Smiling broadly, and blushing profusely, you took in the simple but beautiful decorations they'd taken the time to put up around the small police station: colourful balloons, streamers, and a neatly handwritten banner. And then your eyes settled on your boyfriend, none other than Saint Marie's very own Detective Inspector Richard Poole, eyes averted to a nondescript spot on the ground.

Sighing lovingly, you made your way over to him as the others busied themselves with setting out all their other birthday props, pretending that they weren't watching your's and Richard's every move (they were still fascinated by you and just how different and open Richard was around you, he was like a different man, and they knew it was a reflection of how much he loved you). Only when you came to a halt right in front of him did he look at you.

"Hello darling," he grumbled, and though he'd already told you one hundred times that morning he said it again, "Happy birthday."

You smiled, "Are you going to hug me or what, Detective Inspector Poole?" You saw his face flush and his poor attempt to hold back a sheepish grin before he pulled you into a warm embrace. You adored flustering him. But you adored even more when he gave in to your infrequent, shy yet bold, demands for simple physical affection. He probably only tolerated and indulged in this hug because it was your birthday - you took full advantage of it as you buried your head in his chest and he nuzzled fondly into your hair, both of you attempting to convey just how much you felt for each other, nevermind how hot the temperature was and how he was basically broiling in his suit.

A low whistle in your direction made you and Richard pull apart suddenly. "Chief, you and Y/N might as well just get a room now," Dwayne laughed. Fidel and Camille were chuckling, clearly set on making Richard's face turn an even deeper shade of scarlet.

You giggled and went over to join them, scanning what they had laid out on the table.

"Hey, Y/N," Camille shout whispered conspiratorially, "I'll buy everyone's first round if you can get him to wear this!" She held up a striped party hat.

"Ohohoh!" Dwayne rubbed his hands together, "Now you have to do it Y/N!"

You shook your head smirking, "that's an abuse of power, I couldn't possibly-"

"It's your birthday, he has to!" Dwayne insisted.

Holding back a laugh and feeling particularly mischievous, you picked up the hat and spun around to Richard, "Wear it pleaaaaaase!"

He had been distracted by a thought and your sudden addressing startled him. His eyes widened, "What-" you hopped over to him and gave him your best pair of puppy eyes as you held it up. He looked almost offended by how cute you were trying to be and how much of an effect it was having on his beating heart.

He snatched the hat from you, glaring, grumpy. If this was going to make the afternoon to by faster, he thought, then the sooner he could get to going through with his plan for later. Fiddling with it for a second he finally managed to sit it properly on his head. It looked ridiculous, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle your laugh.

The others didn't try to be so polite, they burst out in a raucous fit. "Looking real snappy Chief!" Dwayne wiped a tear away.

"Okay let's get this show on the road," Camille handed out everyone else's hats, "To my mother's!"

You batted your eyelashes at Richard, he was frowning and it made your heart ache, you wanted to ask what the matter was, but you knew him well and you knew that he'd not want to talk about it around company. Grabbing his own hand with your smaller one you tugged him to follow the others. You were overjoyed when his hand finally relaxed around yours and he let you hold it all the way to Catherine's. He was definitely spoiling you today.

Catherine's couldn't have been any more miserable a time for Richard. He was sitting at a table near - he knew you'd want him close, today being your special day and all - to where you were on the dance floor, grooving to the Caribbean beats and having a blast with Camille, Dwayne, Fidel and occasionally Catherine (even, to your surprise, Police Commissioner Selwyn Patterson showed up). The DJ played your favourite song more than once for you too! You were dancing hard and belting out lyrics at the top of your lungs, comfortable around your friends and in the familiar environment of Catherine’s. At that moment, “dull” didn’t exist in your dictionary, and an expression of utter joy never left your face. 

Head resting on his hand, and admiring your every move, totally enamoured by your being and everything about you, it just made Richard realise how his plans for you were basically ruined. Would you even appreciate what he had to give you? Or would it be so boring compared to the blast of a time you were having here with your friends?

You caught his eyes, and took his breath away mid-grovel with a soft smile he knew belonged to only him. How he loved you.

"Y/N! It's time for the cake!" Catherine called from where she'd brought out a tray with all the candles Dwayne had counted out earlier lit and ready to be blown out. The music lowered a little and you gasped in delight, cheeks flushed from the dancing, alcohol, happiness, and attention.

Dwayne and Fidel herded you merrily over to where the cake was glowing in the low light and flashing colours of the bar.

"But what about Richa-" panicked in your slightly tipsy state, you looked over in his direction only to see Catherine and Camille standing him up and shoving him towards you.

After your friends' painful but well meaning execution of "happy birthday", during which Camille discreetly elbowed Richard to sing louder, you blew out the candles in a delighted whoosh.

... And then came the cutting of the cake. And because Camille, Catherine, Dwayne, and Fidel loved to terrorise Richard whenever they had the chance, once Richard cut a piece of the cake and fed it to you (with lots of "awww"s, mind you) and when you did the same to him, the chanting began while you both were still trying to wipe the rest of the frosting from your mouths.

"Go on, Richard! Come on Chief! You have to kiss her," they started, "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!"

You looked up at him with furrowed brows: there was no way you'd make him do it if he didn't want to. Though you had been together for a while now, you hadn't kissed each other's lips yet. And now was not the time, you realised, as Richard's brain looked like it was going to combust and explode out of his skull as he stared at you anxiously, the blood rushing so fast to his cheeks that he felt he tips of his ears red hot too. You blinked calmly in acknowledgement, and tapped a finger to your cheek. You could almost feel the waves of relief rush over him as he gratefully bent and pressed a gentle, warm kiss to your cheek. You reveled in it for a moment, only to be drawn back to reality by everyone else booing.

"No way, Chief! What was that?"

"Sir, respectfully, but what the hell?"

"Alright, alright everyone," Richard waved his hands up and down, "Show's over, get some cake and go home." This was met with more booing and your giggling. You knew your boyfriend was antsy about something - he'd been on edge all night (but you didn't mind; that he was even entertaining yours and your friends' jests and jokes and wishes made your heart race) - and you were determined to get to the bottom of it before dawn. Everyone taking cake and standing up chatting drew an natural end to the night's wild birthday festivities.

After thanking and hugging your friends goodnight, you linked your arm around Richard's elbow and rested your head on his shoulder, "Shall we?" you asked through a muffled yawn, indicating the exit with a slight nod of your head.

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, he hoped you didn't hear his heart pounding. "Let's, my birthday girl."

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine going out to a restaurant with Richard

GIF-credit to @unsaltedsinner

“So then, anything here that you’d fancy?” Your dear friend Richard lowers his menu to focus on your answer.

You take a moment to consider your options. Soon, you look up to meet his gaze and smile at him.

“Actually, yes! I’ve decided to try some crabs, I’ve only heard so much about them.” You close your menu.

“Oh, dear.” He says with a mixture of both grumpiness and worry.

“What’s the matter?” You ask him.

“I had a feeling you’d go for that. It’s not that it’s bad or anything, they’re simply not my bestest of friends.” He sighs. 

You laugh at his behaviour. It was always fun to poke fun at his dislikes, but never too much.

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine how Richard's mother accidentally found out you and her son were married.

Yes, it's true. You and Richard had not yet announced your marriage to his family back home  in the UK yet. The both of you always said you'd get around to it but you never did.

Now Richard's mother, Jennifer Poole was sitting right opposite the two of you at Catherine's. She'd spontaneously - which Richard acknowledged was very unlike her - come to visit her son and his supposed girlfriend.

Needless to say you were both nervous that somehow she'd find out by accident, through the likes of Dwayne or Camille - or anyone else on the island for that matter (it felt as if all of uninvited Saint Marie was there to see you two get married and wish you and their resident and beloved Detective Inspector well), but you'd manage to keep it under wraps still, miraculously.

Twitching in your chair, you twiddled with a coaster, ghosting your fingers over where your wedding band should be. You and Richard had agreed to not wear them in front of her, just in case she caught on. She was a meticulous woman who basically missed nothing.

"I can not believe this heat, Richard! It reminds me of how cramped it felt sitting next to the man with the good-looking chicken on his lap on the horrendous flight here from Guadeloupe! Y/N you look as if you're about to faint, sweetheart, is something the matter?"

You looked up, aghast, "Oh, no, no! I'm good, thank you -"

"Mrs. Poole?" Catherine cut in with the drinks tray in her hand.

"Yes?-" "Hmm?-" both you and Jennifer eagerly replied at the same time.

Then very, very slowly, you both turned to Richard with the same wide-eyed expression on your faces. He went red and he took a long breath gaze shooting back and forth between the two most important women in his life.  You mentally face-palmed yourself.

Oh Lord.

Richard coughed, pulling his wedding ring out and slipping it back to it’s rightful place as he spoke, “Well then, Mother, I suppose I better introduce you, properly, to my wife, Y/N.”

You risked a glace at Jennifer. You couldn’t tell whether her smile was filled with joy or shock, “Hi there,” you mumbled awkwardly, following Richard’s lead and sliding your ring back on too. The wave-crashing filled silence was about to reach a beat too long.

“Sooo, who ordered the lemonade?” Catherine chirped, slicing the tension she knowingly created with a very sharp well-meaning knife as she placed the tray on the table, giving you her all-knowing sneaky smile and a wink.

[richardpooleimagines]

"Imagine feeling safe with Richard after having witnessed a murder"

Shout out to @cake-and-umbrellas for this great prompt!!!

I've suddenly become overwhelmed with remembrance for how much I love Richard.

Request box is still more than open for anyone who'd like to pop in an idea or prompt.

Also I apologise profusely for the inactivity!

Imagine feeling safe with Richard after having witnessed a murder.

Pairing: Richard x Reader

Warnings: brief description of murder witnessed, talking on the phone while driving (don't!), fluffy Richaaaaarrddd (tho that's hardly a warning)

It was nearly midnight. You knew you should've been asleep, but you'd been lying in your bed tossing and turning since nine.

That's when you heard it: a sharp, shrill cry piercing the night, halting the crickets in their chirping and frogs in their croaking.

You shot upright and froze. It sounded way too close for comfort.

Oh my God.

When you heard nothing else, you grabbed your cellphone and car keys and crept cautiously out your side door, your instinct leading your actions, the crushing silence and cool night breeze making you shiver involuntarily. What the hell was that? The only thought running through your mind.

As you peeked around your neighbour's wall out into the street you saw the source of the scream and your heart dropped: a silhouette against the street light was repeatedly sinking a knife into a woman's figure lying still and helplessly on the ground in the middle of the road.

You wanted to cry. What? It was almost as if your brain couldn't fathom what it was seeing. Someone just got murdered right before your eyes. You couldn't do anything. You refused to scream - a death wish in itself. And you didn't want to die. You wanted to run.

... And run you did, to your car, as fast as your legs could carry you. But when you got there, you dropped the keys in your haphazard fumbling. The noise echoed and your heartbeat quickened. Turning carefully to look behind you, the shadow that was dragging the corpse into the bushes a little ways from the opposite edge of the roadway paused. Your eyes widened in horror, the brief mental image of a knife coming at you making your insides quake. And where you know you could've frozen and let fear and defeat overcome you, the adrenaline rush made you turn away immediately and reach down for your keys at a lightning pace and get in your car and start the engine.

Right before you floored the gas you looked around to the two figures who had resumed their way into the overgrowth. You inhaled sharply, heart racing, as you raced off down the road,  heading instinctively in a subconscious direction, your hands guiding you while your mind swarmed, terrified.

As you trembled and attempted to concentrate on the road, you dialed the Saint Marie police number, reporting the murder to the emergency services. The report was brief and scarily objective, and you did your duty, but you couldn't help but feel guilty. Was there something you should've done? Was it not wrong driving off?

The night seemed to creep in closer around you as your emotions ran wild.

Holding back tears you came to a stop in front of The Shack, pulling up the hand brakes and switching of the engine unconsciously. Stumbling out of your car you hurried to the front door and knocked, darkness under it, you knew Richard was asleep.

But to your unregistered surprise, not a moment later he opened the door and his eyes widened to see your shivering, disheveled, pajama clad state. Distraught, he stepped back out of the doorway to let you pass, "Come."

He held open his arms and you fell into his embrace, clinging to him desperately. You were choking up with sobs that didn't want to come out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Mumbling that you didn't need to apologise, he shut the door and guided you to his bed, tumbling yourselves onto it. He didn't speak just yet, confused though he was, he knew that all you needed right now was him and in a short time you'd explain what had happened.

The air was warm, but you felt cold, that's why you tried your hardest to snuggle as tightly as possible into Richard's arms - he didn't stop you. You'd drawn your knees up close to you, so he was able to protect your entire being.

You felt safe. You felt like you could maybe breathe easier. The light-headedness that had become prominent dissipated slightly.

Richard drew a hand up to stroke your hair soothingly, his cheeks burning to an extreme degree.

Just then his cellphone rang and he reached over to pick it up from the bedside. You didn't mind, you were locked in his arms and comfortable.

"Hello? - speaking.... Not a problem, Sir.... Oh I see... Really? Are emergency services sure? ....Alright. Is that all? We'll be right on it, Commissioner. Good night." He hung up and replaced the phone, huffing.

"Why didn't you call me Y/N? Why didn't you tell me?" You looked up at him, face buried in his chest - you could see the hurt in his brilliant emerald eyes.

"I didn't want to wake you," you grumbled the first excuse that came to mind, pulling him closer, tears refusing to fall.

He let out a heavy sigh and rested his chin on your head, shutting his eyes and letting his heartbeat soothe yours to a calm pace.

You breathed deeply and carefully, relishing in his warmth, your fingers clawing into his night shirt.

"If the victim is who we think it is, I know exactly who murdered her."

You pulled him tighter, burrowing even further into his grasp, images flashing through your mind. "I - I - I should've done somethi-"

"-No. No. Certainly not! We can't have you throwing yourself at murderers and danger like that!" he cut you off. Sighing deeply he relaxed, "... What I mean is... I'm glad you didn't. I can't really do without you." He mumbled, face beyond scarlet.

You whimpered at his admittance, tender moments with Richard were few and far between, but when they came around, they were certainly worth the wait.

"I'll keep you safe, my love, don't worry," he soothed. And you knew there was nothing but truth in his words. You knew you weren't going to get any more sappyness out of him after that, so you took it for all it was worth and sneaked a brief kiss to his jaw.

When Fidel arrives with the car, Richard's heart aches to have to rouse you gently from where you'd fallen asleep in his arms.

Everyone else is hardly surprised when you show up at the crime scene together. When he was getting into his shirt and tie, he’d offered you his suit jacket to keep you warm over your pjs. You’d accepted it - even though it was dramatically big on you - as the temporary replacement for his grasp while he worked at the scene with the others and you waited patiently at the side to return to his arms.

[richardpooleimagines]

Hello all DI Poole fans!

I haven’t posted a new imagines drabble in forever, so I thought I’d just say to you all that requests or prompts or ideas would be appreciated! And I’d try my best to write them! Originally this blog was created mainly for RichardxReader imagines, but feel free to suggest anything else and I could attempt that too I suppose. 😃 Thank you all.

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine Richard knocking on your door in the middle of a storm

The rain had come down so suddenly you hadn’t even gotten a chance to get your emergency candles out before the electricity went. But you did manage to find them, their matches and the torch. 

As you lit a couple in the living room you switched on the torch and were about to go look for a good book to sit out the rest of the night when there was a sharp, urgent knock on the door. 

A crack of thunder.

You felt your heart leap into your throat. Who could be knocking during this kind of storm? At this hour?

Rushing to your front door you could’ve sworn you heard your name being yelled in a familiar tone, but you couldn’t quite tell over the roar of the tempest. 

You turned the handle, opening the door. 

Richard fell in, slamming the door shut behind him so that the water wouldn’t flood the front of your house. He leaned against the wood, breathing hard. You stared at him wide eyed, “Richard!”

“That’s my name,” he smiled.

You ran to the laundry cupboard and grabbed a towel. When you’d returned, he was standing barefooted and jacket-less in the living room, having disposed of the soaked garments. 

Pausing in the doorway you took in the sight. He was such a handsome man, and whenever he was around you felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be dating him. It had been a month already, and Camille, Dwayne and Fidel were constantly reminding you how much happier he was on a regular basis since you’d started seeing each other. 

He was rolling up his sleeves and trousers. You knew he only relaxed about his clothes around you. Taking advantage of this, you strolled across the carpet and stood before him. He looked from the towel to your eyes expectantly, but you threw it over your shoulder and slipped your fingers around his tie, undoing it. 

Richard didn’t stop you - he was blushing madly. Smiling at him, you then took the towel and started drying his hair. “You’re like a wet dog,” you grumbled affectionately. 

“Woof,” he chuckled, taking the towel from you to dry his face.

He handed it back to you and you threw it over a wooden chair while he made himself comfortable on your living room couch, grabbing a blanket and covering up. 

You crossed your arms and looked down at him smiling cheekily from his reclined state. “What were you doing out in the storm?” 

It had been a long hard day for you both, and you were sure he was as exhausted as you were. 

“I was finishing some work and I lost track of time,” he admitted. You shifted from foot to foot, noticing he’d been mapping you up and down. “And I was going to drop it back at the station before I came to spend the storm with my beautiful girlfriend, but the it came early.”

“Right, sure,” you said sarcastically, trying not to grin childishly from the complement. He never ever spoke about your relationship in public, but he was extremely fond of complementing you when you were both alone. You knew it was because you were his first - and only, he stressed - real relationship. “I’ll go set up the guest room,” you grabbed the torch.

“Wait Y/N,” he called, stopping you in your tracks. You spun around and lifted your eyebrows. He was looking away nervously, his lips pressed tightly together and his brows furrowed. 

“Richard?”

He didn’t respond.

You could read him like he read criminals. No one else could, he only allowed himself to be vulnerable around you and you alone. 

At this moment, you knew what he was suggesting...imploring even.

Stepping towards him, your heart thudded. The two of you had only hugged a couple times, and kissed each other farewells on the cheek. He shrugged the blanket off and lifted his arm. You sat next to him and lay down to rest your head against his chest, hugging him tightly. 

He brought his arm down around you, pulling you close. You could feel the heat both your bodies were giving off. It made you blush. 

Slowly, your eyes met and he gave you an unspoken thank you. You giggled and buried your face in his shirt, making him chuckle. 

It was nice to be close like this, holding each other, cozy, warm. 

You felt his heart racing and you couldn’t help but reflect on just how much you loved him. You snaked a hand up and undid his top three buttons - you got the result you were looking for: he let out a tense breath and pulled you tighter against him. 

Gosh, he loved you too. 

The rain was still pouring, but you could hear his now even breathing, and it relaxed you dangerously, to the point where you could feel your eyes beginning to close. 

It didn’t help your sleepy case that he got up the courage to trace his fingers lazily through your hair. You tilted your head up to press an appreciative kiss on his cheek, but you caught his mouth instead. 

Too comfortable to be shocked, he kissed you back gently. A moment later you broke it and searched his emerald eyes and scarlet features for regret. You found absolutely none, and your heart soared. He gave you the softest and happiest smile you’d ever seen come from him and you returned it wholeheartedly. 

You nuzzled your grinning face against his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

Once more you felt your eyes beginning to close; soothed by his rhythmic heartbeat and the drumming rain. 

He wrapped the blanket around you and himself and again held you close. 

“I hope this storm lasts forever,” he muttered lovingly. 

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine Camille and Fidel trying to explain that Richard has a crush on you (Part 2)

The night wasn’t dragging for anyone but you. You wanted desperately to know what Camille had to tell you. 

You’d tried to bring it up twice already, but she’d brushed you off with, “Oh come on, don’t worry about that,” or, “Why don’t you go ask Richard to dance?” To which you’d replied, “No he doesn’t want to dance with me.” Which for some reason made her laugh. 

You took a mouthful of your second drink, frustrated. The five of you had been seated around a table, but Dwayne had been the first to join in the merry-making. Then Camille and Fidel had pulled you up to dance, leaving Richard, who’d been scribbling something intently on a notepad, at the table. 

Now you stood aside, watching the dancing. Occasionally you’d glance in Richard’s direction and see him look away and back at his notepad guiltily, as if you’d caught him staring.

“You should’ve seen the way he looked at you when they made you come dance,” Catherine, Camille’s mother, leaned against the wall beside you.

“Who?” you frowned. You knew you wanted her to say Richard but you didn’t want to be disappointed if it was not him.

She smiled at you, and as if reading your thoughts nodded in his very direction. You turned your head sharply and you finally caught him. His bright green eyes locked on yours for only a moment before he flamed and looked away at nothing. Your heart thudded violently.

“He’s like a teenage boy,” Catherine smiled, laughing. You wanted to laugh, but you felt your cheeks getting hot.

“Who’s like a teenage boy?” Camille hopped out of a dance and joined the conversation, calling Fidel over too.

“Richard is. Now please excuse me,” Catherine smirked and took a tray full of drinks and continued on rounds about the room.

"Aww, has my mother spoiled it?" 

 "Spoiled what?" 

 "Listen Y/N," Camille lowered her voice and flickered her gaze behind you. She put both her hands on your shoulders and Fidel stepped close, so that the three of you were huddled together secretively and suspiciously. 

 "I'm listening," you pressed your lips together, trying to hide your anxiousness. 

"It seems like our dear Richard has a big crush on you,” she confided. You felt your face grow hot and your stomach fill with butterflies.

“It’s true,” Fidel nodded.

Your head was spinning, did they just say what you think they said? “Are you sure?” you asked, unbelieving. 

“Tell her Fidel,” Camille waved a hand.

“One hundred percent,” Fidel explained, “Day before he asked me for help on how to talk to a girl he liked. And when I asked if it was you, he said yes and brushed it off very quickly. You know how he is.”

“Yeah, sounds like him,” you giggled.

“It’s obvious,” Camille rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, “He likes you a lot. I confronted him and got him to admit it.”

You knew you were smiling like a child who just got a surprise present. You’d had a massive crush on him for a good while now, but the fact that when you talked to him his statements were always brief and choppy made you tell yourself to not let your emotions get the better of you. You assumed he didn’t return the feelings at all. 

But now you knew that his awkwardness in all your conversations was due to his nervousness. To know that he liked you too had you bursting with joy. You wanted to go find him and throw yourself into his arms and confess your feelings were the same, but you restrained yourself. 

“Now,” Camille took a sip of her drink, “do us all a favour and go make him happy.” And when you gave her a joking glare she held up her hands innocently, “I didn’t imply anything.”

“Go make who happy?”

The three of you spun around to face an inquisitive Richard, hands locked behind his back. You were speechless and anxious fire was coursing through your veins. Your face was hot and your knees were weak as you tried to control your breathing; wanting to chastise yourself for letting him have such a dramatic effect on you. 

You knew you had to do something, Fidel and Camille were stuttering out an excuse but he was paying no attention to them, he had his eyes fixed only on you. 

In the heat of the moment and with lightening speed you stepped forward and tiptoed, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

As you retreated in that split second, it revealed to you Camille and Fidel gaping and Richard, wide-eyed and face flushed, holding a hand to the side of his face where your lips had just been. 

You bit your lip and you would have started getting worried if Richard, not a second later, was grinning from ear to ear at you. You were certain your smile rivaled his. 

“Excuse us,” Camille chuckled and grabbed Fidel’s arm, “Come on!” And the two of them vanished back into the crowd of dancers, nudging each other. 

“So,” Richard trailed off in a daze, blushing like mad. 

“So,” you echoed. He met your eyes and held out his arm. 

“Can I get you some tea?” he hadn’t stopped smiling, and you thought to yourself that it wasn’t possible for him to get any more handsome. 

“I’d love that,” you replied, taking his arm. There was electricity between you at the touch.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you look lovely,” he grumbled.

“But I look like this everyday,” you laughed.

“I know.”

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine Camille and Fidel trying to explain that Richard has a crush on you (Part 1)

You’d become quick friends with Detective Sargent Bordey, Fidel and Dwayne, the two other police officers at Honore police station. However your friendship with Detective Inspector Richard Poole was still iffy and confusing. Not only did he become more awkward, but he got flustered and mixed up his words whenever you were around, which was often. 

You’d been assisting at the police station for a little less than a month now, and at the end of the day, your services were always appreciated. 

One evening, as the sun was setting and its orange light was flooding in the room, Richard got up and stretched. Everyone’s heads raised. “Good work today folks, we solved our case early,” he began, letting his eyes scan the room. As he landed on you he paused and you could’ve seen him tense up. In an attempt to brush of the flush that crept up his cheeks he continued, “Let’s uh..let’s - umm let’scallitaday.” He ended in a rush and spun around to slip on his jacket. 

Camille and the other two officers laughed, and you raised your eyebrow in question. “We’ll explain later,” Camille whispered to you, then louder, “Who’s up for drinks?”

“Yeah me!” Fidel’s hand shot up.

“And me of course,” Dwayne nodded.

“I suppose one couldn’t hurt,” you chimed, noticing Richard glance at you then away, rapidly. 

“Sir?” Camille asked. 

“Ah, no, not me, thank you. Busy busy,” he muttered. You packed up your bag and watched curiously as Camille paced over to Richard and whispered something harshly. 

She walked back over to you and you gave her a questioning look. “On second thought,” Richard interjected, “Maybe I will tag along,” and as he said this he made his way out the door, eyes dodging yours.

Camille nudged your arm and you chuckled, confused, “What was that all about?”

“We’ll explain later,” she rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, smiling from ear to ear, “Won’t we Fidel?”

“Yes we will,” the young man chuckled. 

“Explain what?” Dwayne asked and Fidel threw him an ‘are-you-serious?’ look, “Ohhh, that,” he gave you two thumbs up. 

You were taken aback - whatever it was they had to tell you was certainly big. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Camille smirked and the four of you left for her mother’s bar, catching up with strolling Richard not a moment later.  

[richardpooleimagines]

Imagine meeting Richard for the first time

Needless to say, the first time you saw him he managed to surprise you: Why would anyone be wearing a suit on Saint Marie? It was hot as hell!

He’d noticed you moments before you noticed him, and he held your gaze in his bright green eyes. Something about him captivated you. 

Both of you were so caught up in the stare that his partner was the one that broke the silence, “Good evening Miss Y/N, I’m Detective Sargent Camille Bordey and this is Detective Inspector Richard Poole. We’d like to ask you for your help if you don’t mind.”

Because of your knowledge of the island and your proximity to where the murder happened, he and Sargent Bordey had come to your place of work. 

“Sargent Bordey? Your mother wouldn’t happen to be Catherine down at the bar?” you piped up, looking away from the Englishman. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see distress and confusion in his expression. You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute it made him look. 

You’d heard another detective inspector had come to the island to replace the one that had been killed in the smuggling scandal, but you didn’t know he’d be this handsome. 

“That’s me!” Camille beamed, “Come on Richard, stop gaping, your being rude!” she snapped her fingers. She’d noticed. 

“Right, yes,” Richard shook his head, breaking out of the trance, “Now we’ve come for directions...” His face was flushed shades of red.

The questions were led by Camille as the three of you sat around a table and Richard seemed incapable of thinking straight. You had been sneaking glances at him when Camille was talking, and every time you looked at him, he looked away. 

As giddy as a schoolboy, you smiled childishly. 

When you’d helped them with descriptions and the geography they needed for the case Camille thanked you and invited you to her mother’s bar later that day for a drink. Richard, who’d been the quiet, but determined onlooker glanced up eagerly. 

“I’ll see how the evening plays out,” you dipped your chin, “Thanks for the invite though!”

“No problem, I hope you can make it,” Camille smiled and began to walk back to the car. Richard peered over at you and your eyes widened hopefully, but he frowned and walked away before you could attempt to read his thoughts. 

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he’d walked off and not said anything, your heart, which had been churning earlier out of anxiousness for him to make a move was now churning with embarrassment - had you been overthinking his glances and demeanor?

But before you could wallow in self pity, you looked up to see Richard running back towards you from the police car. He was panting and flustered as he came to a halt in front of you. 

You shoved your hands into your pockets and stood there expectantly.

“Miss Y/N, I would very, very, very much like it if you were to join us for that drink later,” he furrowed his brows, cheeks scarlet. 

You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear and nod your head, “I think I will, Inspector, I think I will.”

“Brilliant,” his eyes lit up with a sparkle that could rival a starry sky.