#and your reply is great ^^b

[noiranamnesis]

So This Is Sweet?

continued from: x

for: @magicalflyingsubmarine

...

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she was still tangled in her sheets, caught in one of those half-dreams where logic frays and familiar ghosts resurface as if they never left. Yet as final threads of sleep gave way and his voice continued to push into the quiet of her flat, reality set in. Without a doubt, this was him. Standing there with maddening ease, as if nothing had changed. As if he hadn’t torn her to pieces the last time they spoke.

And worse? He had the audacity to joke, to smile. As though a crooked grin and poorly timed joke might somehow patch over his own decisions.

Marinette remained in the doorway, her frame angled just so, one hand resting against the frame- blocking his path. She was barefoot, her hair loose, dressed in what could hardly be considered daywear: thin cotton pajamas, the strap of her camisole fallen off one shoulder, the loose hem of her shorts brushing too high along her thighs. Yet she barely noticed, her attention never once wavering from him.

Light hues swept over him with practiced ease. No visible bruises. No blood. Positive signs- sort of. “You had a craving for something sweet at…” Her gaze flicked toward the dim glow of the stove clock. “Three in the morning?” Her arms folded over her chest. “Non. Absolutely not. You can go to whatever sweet thing’s been warming your bed and leave mine alone.”

Was there someone else? She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Not really. But the image painted itself quickly, cruelly, and she allowed it to settle between them.

And of course- of course- today was her day off. Any other morning, she would’ve been out the door by now, coat in hand, halfway on her way to the pâtisserie. But now? Now she had time. And time, unfortunately, made room for memory.

“Stay here,” she said, turning on her heels. “Do not come inside.” Leaving him at the door, she vanished into the kitchen. The space was still rich with yesterday’s creation- vanilla, brown sugar, and cinnamon lingering in the air. She opened a tin, peeled back parchment paper, and plucked one cinnamon roll from the spiral.

When she returned, her expression was perfectly still. “Here,” she said flatly, placing it in his hand. “Sweet enough for you?”

[eraserbread]

your husband, nanami, never spoke much. until his three-year-old daughter started ✧

→ toddler dad nanami, fluff

on his day off, it started before the sun rose. he's tucked by the waist in bed, sleeping beside you, his maternal, gorgeously caring wife.

it's not abnormal for your daughter, rin, to stumble out of her bed since she retired the crib, but it is abnormal for her to blatantly wake kento up. but he wakes up—he's a good dad, and his little girl probably had a nightmare.

"daddy... daddy's sleepin'?" her little voice calls from his side of the bed, too small to see over the mattress, but faithful, what she heard was true -- his voice last night after she went to bed.

ken's rolling over in bed, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. looking over at you, you're dead to the world. completely knocked out. "yes... daddy's sleeping, my dear."

it takes her a second, shuffling on her little bare feet. she can't really reach the side of the bed, but didn't know how to say she wanted up. instead, she chews on her thumb and demands, "rin, too."

so kento sits up, half-awake as he stretches over the side, scooping her up under the arms.

"daddy, did you work today?" kento grunts as he settles rin in a straddle over his chest. his eyes are shut, but he peeks them open to see his little girl, smiling at her ruffled sleep hair.

"yes, love."

"what do at work?"

"a lot of meetings with very annoying men."

"what does tha' mean?"

"it means i had to deal with people I didn't like. it's something of a learned skill, unfortunately. one day, you will have to answer to annoying men, though I have faith you will know how to handle them." kento's speaking with his eyes closed, his deep, slow voice low as rin settles over his chest.

she doesn't register half of that, just content with listening to her favorite person talk. so, when she gets comfortable spread across kento's torso, she thinks about her daddy at work talking to you when he gets all grumbly.

"daddy."

"yes, darling?" kento's standing at the stove as you prepare breakfast that morning, hot cup of dark coffee in his hands as rin stumbles in.

she's holding a half-eaten rice cake you gave her to hold her off, barefoot and bearing it like a prize. "my rice cake is b-brown."

"you know why that is? it's because it's chocolate flavored."

"daddy?" she continues, taking a step closer to him. "are you drinkin'?"

"mhm." he replies, taking a cool sip of his coffee. "where'd you put the sippy cup mom gave you this morning?"

the sound of your name, and you're peeking over your shoulder, blindly tending to your sizzling fish as rin runs back to her room. "anyways, other than that, her teacher says she's doing great in speech class."

"mm, i know. she talks just as much as you, now."

you can't even pretend to be shocked at his choice of words, but you hang your mouth open like you are.

"daddy! look!" rin skids to a stop in front of him, ivory sippy cup held high and proud above her head.

"alright, take a sip—just like daddy, see?" ken squats down to toddler-level, still so stoic and mindful when he's sipping noisily at his coffee. rin joins in, suckling through her straw with a similar noisy fervor. she's a tiny shadow of her dad—that's all she wants to be, with her hollowed cheeks, concentrated arch in her sharp brow, and the proud smile she exudes when kento praises her.

she's so happy. all she ever wants is her busy dad's attention, and even when he's tired or weary, kento is always sure to give his love exactly what she wants.

"yay! my baby! you're just like daddy!"

[chow0w]

could you draw blaze its her b day today and also OMG i love your art

thanks so much sun! you and @thatoneabsolutegoober (working on your other asks btw, I'll reply to you directly when I finish snowfall or lynx!) wanted to see Blaze redesigned, and while I may have missed her birthday by a mile, I can still give you my take!

My Blaze redesign is set during the war of sandwing succession - I know Blaze hid just outside of the great ice wall where it wasn't too cold, but I still feel like she would have complained her way into getting a fluffy fur coat to wear for more warmth. I used some checker patterns and tan colors to mimic leather, while the fur itself has those little brown spots you always see (I think this is stoat fur, but a stoat isn't big enough to fit around Blaze's neck anyways so it doesn't matter.)

Most of Blaze's actual body is hidden under her massive jacket, but you might notice she has a plumper frame and smaller wings. I can't explain why, but I feel like it suits her a lot. Her scales don't have any unusual patterns, with most of the detail being concentrated at her wings - which have swirls near the top and a small flame-like impression near the base. I feel like it would be cool if all three sisters had fire/flame design elements given their names, but Blaze's should definitely be the least noticeable since she shows the least.. aggression. I've always interpreted 'blaze' as the beautiful way fire looks and linked it to Blaze's love of jewels.

On the topic of jewels, she doesn't wear any. Sorry Blaze, but you could only run away with so much and your icewing friends probably aren't very empathetic toward your hoarding hobby. I imagine Blaze can only get away with light jewelry/earrings during the war, since heavier items would slow her down and make her more vulnerable. I'm sure she argued about this with her icewing allies a lot.

--

Thank you guys so much for taking a look at my designs! This community is so awesome, and I always appreciate your support! Here's my list of characters that have already been requested:

Here's my current waitlist for designs: Sunny, Clearsight, Luna, Freedom, Bigtail, Cricket, Clay, Queen Thorn, Starflight, Darkstalker, Snowfall, Grandeur, Sky, Lynx, Burn, Blister Queen Oasis, Queen Wasp, Dusky, Sundew, Hazel, Whiteout, Squid, Bumblebee, Sky, Winter and Kinkajou!

And for new readers, here's who I've already designed! You can find these guys further up in my blog: Lady Jewel, Tsunami, Sunny, Blue, Moon, Typhoon, Albatross, Glory, Peril, and Turtle!

If you don't see your favorite on this list, I do have a req box! Later!! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

[superhoeva]

awkward!simon/pharmacy au part two | part one

"i never got to thank you for your help."

simon jumps out of his lean against the side of the building, cursing under his breath when the cigarette tucked between his fingers falls dumbly to the ground. gulping, he glances at you before averting his stare to settle somewhere on your cheek.

not your eyes, but close enough.

"s'not a problem," he nods slowly, mind blanking on what else he could say. he catches how you shift, unsure of what to do with the silence he's forced to let linger. biting the inside of his lip, simon clears his throat. "'uh, yeah. glad i could help."

you give him a small, bashful smile in return of his words and the man nearly stops breathing. he feels his face flushing once again, and he's lucky you're nice enough to not say anything about it.

more silence. you and simon squirm when you accidentally make eye contact before quickly looking away to the nearest anything. his stare lands on the bag in your grasp, filled with those damn pills and the few other items he saw you pluck from the shelves when you'd caught his eye at least ten minutes before reluctantly asking him for help.

the nerve's rattling simon soon grate into a prickly annoyance. god, you having to waste your money on something like that for someone that simon's certain is sticking it in someone else is nipping away at his sense. chest puffing as he takes in a sigh, his index finger scratches a random spot as the back of his head as he grumbles.

"wish there was somethin' i could do t' help. gorgeous thing like you shouldn't suffer over some bloke like that..."

gorgeous. did he just say gorgeous? he must've based on the gobsmacked fucking look on your face.

shit. he's fucked–and not just because his insides flutter at how wide your eyes are and how satisfying your lips look when they're parted in surprise.

simon blinks at you, eyes reading of horror and a hint of panic. when you open your mouth to sputter out a reply, the man turns and makes a b-line for the side door of the pharmacy that's a few feet away.

employees only is plastered across it and you need to know the code to press on the keypad to unlock it and get in, so there's no way you can follow after him and his red cheeks. great.

what's not so great is how foolishly simon's fingers mash into the buttons as he attempts to escape. it takes two times of the buzzer letting him know he's wrong before he can finally think slowly enough to remember the correct order of the four numbers.

simon sends you one last breathless glance and already knows that the dumbfounded look still plastered across your face–the look that has all his blood rushing downward–is going to haunt him for the rest of the day. he slips back into the pharmacy's supply room, the door clanging loudly behind him.

the man collapses back-first against the metal with a huff, one of his hands reaching to wipe at his eyes.

nice. you think he's nice?

"fuck," he whispers thickly to himself, glancing down and grunting at just how noticeable his bulge is becoming as his mind floods with the thought of you; your lips. your watery eyes. your sweet words. all of you. squeezing at his cock through his pants, he hisses at the throb it generates.

glancing at a nearby clock, simon's thinks. whether the six minutes he has before john will probably come looking for him are enough or not, simon couldn't care less.

he doesn't even bother unzipping his pants, slinking a hand into his waistband with little shame. his eyes roll at the way his palm slicks right over his head, and simon grinds into the feeling with a pleased huff.

good thing he skipped wearing underwear today. and thank fuck he threw on his darker jeans.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[rafecameronssl4t]

Never say never || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request I love it!! @ghostlythinggoingaround

Warnings: swearing, sofia is insecure abt herself. other than that, nothing really

Word count: 1,317

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"Who are you looking at?" JJ asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Sofia's intense gaze across the room. His eyes landed on Rafe, who stood by the pool table, exuding his usual air of arrogance. JJ let out a loud sigh and turned back to Sofia, concern etched on his face.

"Sof, you gotta stop," he said, frowning deeply. Sofia looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her hands mechanically wiping the glasses clean behind the bar. "Stop with what?" she asked, her voice tinged with feigned ignorance.

"Thinking you have a chance with Rafe," JJ replied bluntly. Sofia's hands paused for a brief moment before she resumed her task, her shoulders tensing. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that—well, I did, but—" JJ stammered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the sadness clouding her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "Rafe doesn't do relationships, you know that, right? He'll string you along and then break your heart. Besides, he's a jackass." JJ scoffed, his eyes flicking back to Rafe, who was now laughing loudly with a group of friends.

"Who's a jackass?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind them. JJ and Sofia turned to find Sarah, John B, and Pope approaching the bar. Sarah settled into a bar stool beside JJ, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Your brother," JJ stated, his tone flat. Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's worse, trust me," she said, her eyes shifting to Sofia with a knowing look. "Don't tell me you still like Rafe?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity.

Sofia swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sof—" Sarah began, but Sofia cut her off. "Don't. JJ's already said enough," she sighed, placing the last glass back on the rack before leaning against the counter, her posture defeated. "I just don't understand why he doesn't do relationships."

"Commitment issues, probably," Pope suggested, his eyes following the group's collective gaze towards Rafe, who was in conversation with Topper. "He's got way more issues—" John B started, but Sofia shushed him urgently.

"Stop, he's coming this way!" she whisper-yelled, quickly pretending to be busy as Rafe sauntered over. Rafe walked past them all without a second glance, his attention solely focused on the bartender at the far end of the counter. Sofia took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she approached him, ready to offer her service.

But just as she reached him, Rafe glanced her way, his expression indifferent, and turned to the other bartender to place his order. Sofia's heart sank, and she turned back to her friends, who were watching her with sympathetic eyes.

"See? He's an asshole, Sof. Don't waste your time on him," Sarah advised, her voice softening as she watched Sofia's sullen expression. "I guess," Sofia murmured, her gaze lingering on Rafe for a moment longer.

~

"What time do you get off? I was thinking we could have a fire tonight and have drinks at the chateau," John B suggested, leaning casually against the bar. "I'll be off at seven, and that sounds great," Sofia replied with a bright smile. The others chimed in with their agreement, the excitement of the plan evident in their voices.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed you standing by the counter, catching her attention. "I'll be back," she said to her friends, making her way over to you with a welcoming smile. "Hey, can I get you something?" Sofia asked, her eyes meeting yours as you lifted your gaze from your phone, a friendly smile on your lips.

"Hi! Can I just get a Long Island Iced Tea, please?" you replied. "Sure, coming right up," she said, her smile widening as she turned to prepare the drink. As she mixed the ingredients, Sofia couldn't help but steal glances at you. Your natural beauty seemed effortless, and she felt a pang of envy. Your perfectly styled hair, flawless skin, and confident demeanor made her acutely aware of her own insecurities.

"That's a gorgeous necklace you got there," Sofia remarked, her eyes lingering on the shimmering pendant that caught the light with every movement. You smiled warmly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to toy with the delicate chain. Sofia's gaze remained fixed, silently estimating its worth and admiring its intricate design.

"Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday," you chuckled, a note of fondness in your voice. Sofia nodded with a smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of envy. She turned back to prepare your drink, but you called out, "Babe, did you want anything?"

Sofia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and saw Rafe standing beside you, his arm protectively draped over your shoulder. "Whatever you're getting," he replied smoothly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled at Sofia, who struggled to mask her shock and disbelief.

"Can I get another one, please?" you asked, your tone polite and cheerful. Sofia's eyes darted between you and Rafe, her heart sinking as she realized the truth: your boyfriend was Rafe, the guy who supposedly never did relationships. The realization hit her hard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Rafe noticed the awkward silence and turned his attention to Sofia, who still held your drink. "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Don't be rude," you whispered to him, trying to diffuse the tension. Snapping out of her daze, Sofia mumbled, "Sorry," and placed your drink on the counter with a clatter, spilling some of its contents in her haste.

As she prepared the next drink, Sofia couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Rafe. "Do you wanna do anything this afternoon?" Rafe asked, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "Got any ideas?" you chuckled, resting your hands on his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Could take the boat out and have dinner?" he suggested, causing your smile to widen with excitement. "That sounds great—" you began, but were interrupted by a loud thud. "There's your drink," Sofia said, pushing the glass toward you with a bit more force than intended. You thanked her and reached for your card, but Rafe quickly swatted your hand away.

"Don't even," Rafe said playfully, making you sigh jokingly. "Rafe—" you started, but he cut you off, chuckling. "You know to just put it on my tab." Sofia's annoyance bubbled over, her fingers tapping rapidly on the counter in frustration. "Just put it on my tab, Cameron," Rafe repeated, not even glancing at her as he took both drinks.

“Thanks again,” you said with a polite smile to Sofia before walking off with Rafe. From behind the bar, Sofia watched with a mix of emotions as you settled onto Rafe’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Laughter bubbled up between you, triggered by something one of your friends said, a scene that ignited jealousy and heartache in Sofia.

She exhaled shakily before returning to her friends, attempting to distract herself from the sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, her friends had witnessed the entire scene. “Did you not know?” Sofia asked Sarah, wiping down the bar in an effort to focus her thoughts. Sarah hesitated before responding, her expression conflicted. “I did…” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sofia’s voice quivered with confusion and hurt, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t know they were together!” Sarah’s voice was defensive yet apologetic. “I thought they were just hooking up, but I guess not…” She shrugged, a look of regret crossing her face.

“How long?” Sofia finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Sarah hesitated, meeting Sofia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before answering, “About a month, now?” Sofia fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over.

“Shit. They’re even matching clothes and everything,” Pope muttered under his breath, the disbelief evident in his voice. His words were abruptly silenced by a firm slap from John B on his chest.

“Sofia…” JJ began, his tone soft and filled with concern. But Sofia, determined not to let her emotions show, dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A solitary tear had slipped down her cheek, betraying her true feelings, which she quickly wiped away.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They look good together anyway,” she added, casting a fleeting glance at you and Rafe. The sight of you both seemed to sting, but she tried to mask it.

Clearing her throat, Sofia straightened up, striving to maintain her composure. “I’m just gonna go back to work,” she said, her voice steadying as she turned away. With a final, determined breath, she walked off, leaving her friends behind, trying to hold herself together.

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. THAT’S MY SISTER YOU BITCH

Summary: Despite Sarah and Rafe’s volatile relationship, that’s your sister.

Warnings: Violence, illusions to sex, swearing.

You had a great day so far. You'd woken up to Rafe in between your legs, waking you up in the best way possible before he made you both breakfast as you watched him from the island. Sometimes you just liked to ponder on how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Rafe. To everyone else, you were far from lucky but you liked it that way- knowing only you got the real Rafe Cameron.

Now, you were on your way back from grocery shopping, planning to make Rafe a romantic meal when he arrived back from work. Blasting music from your car speakers, you were completely in the zone. Until you drove up to the City Hall, glancing ahead you saw Kelce's red truck, which you thought nothing of until you saw him and his idiotic friends surrounding John B and Sarah.

Alarmed, you pulled up next to the truck, gathering the attention of everyone. Despite being a kook yourself, you were far different from the rest of them. You didn't care about pogues, to you they were like anyone else, in fact often you preferred the pogues in the Outer Banks to the kooks. Rafe's circle exclusively consisted of kooks, meaning you often received a lot of respect from kooks even though you spent a lot of your time arguing with them. Rafe didn't mind it, you were his girlfriend and lover, so if you wanted to yell he wouldn't stop you.

"Problem?" You asked, slamming your car door shut behind you. Just as Sarah hit the ground. Immediately you rushed towards Sarah. Yeah, Rafe and Sarah had problems they needed to get past but to you, Sarah was still as important as she was 2 years ago. You were proud of her for finding her true love and true friends, and you always let her know that you would always be there for her. And this time was no exception. Putting two and two together, you saw Ruthie standing much closer to Sarah than the other kooks who looked at her in shock.

They all stood stunned at your arrival, to be honest, you were probably the worst possible person to show up at that exact moment. Everyone knew your opinions on the Pogues were far more empathetic than the other kooks. "No, no problem" Kelce muttered, beginning to pull Ruthie and the others back from Sarah and John B, to which they happily obliged. Not on your watch.

"Oh no, don't stop on my accord guys. Please whatever you were going to do next. Do it." Walking over to them, Ruthie stood stunned at your arrival. Since she started dating Topper, you got a lot of joy out of berating her, publically. For once, she didn't back down at your words. "She needs to watch herself. She pushed me first, it was self-defence." Ruthie said, glancing behind you to see John B pulling Sarah to her feet.

Snorting you replied, "Ruthie, I'm not Shoupe. Don't start pleading your case, I don't care." She stalled at your response, for a moment thinking that you were on her side for pushing Sarah before you pulled her back to reality. Walking closer to her, edgingly slow, you pressed, "You think you're all big and mighty for pushing Sarah? She's 19 Ruthie, you're what? 21? Don't you think you should play with someone your own size?"

Behind you, John B and Sarah smirked at the group. Unbeknownst to you, Sarah was pregnant and John B was far too occupied to make sure Sarah was okay than to pick a fight with Kelce and his goons today. But you happily would, and even better so because who was going to fight back against the kook princess? Definitely not these ones.

“Well?” You pushed, as you stood toe to toe with Ruthie. You were growing impatient, Rafe would have finished work by now meaning that soon he’d come looking for you- and you’d rather give Ruthie a good couple punches before Rafe showed up.

“Okay times up.” Before she could even think, your fist sent her backwards onto the floor, just how Sarah had been when when you arrived. Groaning, she lifted her hands to cover her nose, assumably bleeding- hopefully broken if Rafe’s self defence lessons had done some good. “Oh my god- I think you broke my nose. You bitch.” She shrieked, pulling her hands away to reveal blood beginning to pour from her nose.

Ruthie was nothing but a bully, a bully you’d had enough of tormenting the island. Your legs either side of her chest you crouched over her, “Don’t worry you still look just as bad as before.” You muttered as you flew your fist back into her face that she left unguarded. Idiot. Her screaming began again, as you moved off from her, deciding that your two punches had done enough damage. Wow, you’d really have to thank Rafe for those lessons.

“Just wait until Topper hears about this, he will deal with you.” One of the other kooks muttered from behind Kelce. “Yeah I’m sure Topper will be sure to deal with me.” You laughed, Topper wouldn’t touch a hair on your arm as long as you were dating Rafe- everyone knew that.

“You want to fuck with someone, not Sarah.” You spat at them, watching Ruthie sadly pull herself to her feet, with the help of no one. “That’s my sister you bitch. Now fuck off.” At your command, Kelce briskly walked back over to his truck, as the others followed just as fast, allowing you to turn back to John B and Sarah.

You were greeted to their smiling faces, both as grateful as each other. But you noticed, a twinge of emotion still lingering on Sarah’s face. Hearing you call her your sister in combination with her pregnancy hormones, was due to set her off to cry. Before she could get out any words, you spoke for her. “You are my sister regardless of whatever is going on between you and Rafe. You’re family.” Turning to John B, you continued, “That extends to you, hubby.” You winked looking down at the ring on his finger.

With a red blush covering their faces, they praised you in thank yous. “Don’t need to thank me for doing something I’ve been wanting to do for months.” Glancing back to see the red truck had disappeared.

“Now, you can thank me for warning you that Rafe will be here any minute and I’m not sure you want to see him.”

—————————

“Baby, please be more careful next time.” Rafe muttered, as he wrapped your knuckles in bandages. He was more than shocked to find you outside the city hall- alone- but with bloody knuckles. Only with the explanation, that you had an altercation with Ruthie, surprisingly over Sarah. He was confused to say the least, he wasn’t even aware that Ruthie had a problem with his little sister. But the more he thought about it, of course she did- Topper still hadn’t gotten over her.

“In fact, there will be no next time. Ever.” Kissing your knuckles, he pulled you onto his chest as he lied back on your shared king bed. Stroking your hair, he let his mind wonder. Should he have been there to protect Sarah? But they hadn’t had a good relationship in years, he couldn’t just suddenly start caring for her. He also couldn’t let you get into situations that could get you hurt over protecting Sarah.

You noticed his body still and you knew instantly his mind was wondering thinking about Sarah. Without moving your head from his chest you spoke, “Rafe. I love Sarah. I know you have a difficult relationship at the moment and whilst you can’t protect her I will.” Letting the silence sit between you for a moment, you decided to continue.

“She’s our only family, Rafe.” He didn’t move, but you both knew how right you were. She was all you had left. “I know baby, I know.” He whispered, laying a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his mind slip back into imagining how he can rectify this broken relationship with his sister.

[digitaldaydreamm]

unspoken claim

rafe cameron x childhood friend!reader

| summary | rafe catches you at the boneyard after you told him you were 'just out with friends'

warnings: rafe being overprotective

masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore mixed with the steady thrum of music at the Boneyard. A bonfire crackled in the center, sending sparks flying into the night sky as laughter and chatter mingled in the salty air. You were nursing a plastic cup of something lukewarm and overly sweet, but you didn’t mind.

The Pogues—your newfound friends, courtesy of Sarah—had roped you into this, promising it’d be fun. And, to your surprise, it kind of was. Sarah had dragged you over to introduce you to Pope and Kiara, while JJ stood off to the side, already halfway through his second beer, grinning like he owned the place.

“You ever been to one of these before?” Pope asked, leaning closer to make himself heard over the music.

“Not really,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “Rafe’s not exactly a fan of, well…this.”

“That’s because he’s too busy polishing his golden spoon,” JJ cut in, his grin sharp.

“JJ,” Sarah warned, nudging him with her elbow, though she was smirking.

You laughed, but something tugged at your chest. You hadn’t told Rafe you were here. You’d kept it vague, saying you were “out with friends.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but you knew how he’d react if he knew you were hanging out with Sarah and the Pogues at the Boneyard.

You shook the thought away, focusing instead on Sarah as she dragged you toward the bonfire. “Come on! You need to meet John B!”

As the night wore on, you started to relax. The Pogues were easygoing, their teasing and banter pulling you into their dynamic. But the back of your mind still tickled with unease, especially when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Rafe: Where are you?

You hesitated, glancing around. Sarah and Kiara were laughing about something JJ had said, and Pope was busy poking at the fire with a stick. You typed back quickly:

You: Out with some friends. Why?

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: Which friends?

You frowned, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The familiar tightness in your chest returned, and you tucked your phone away, ignoring the text.

“Everything okay?” Sarah asked, noticing your shift in demeanor.

“Yeah, fine,” you lied, forcing a smile.

The music seemed louder now, the air thicker. You tried to shake off the feeling, but another buzz in your pocket made it impossible to ignore.

Rafe: You’re at the Boneyard, aren’t you?

Your stomach dropped. Of course, he’d check the location app.

You: It’s not a big deal. I’m fine.

Rafe: Who invited you?

You stared at the screen, your fingers frozen. Another buzz came through before you could think of a reply.

Rafe: I’m coming.

Your heart raced. You knew that tone, even through text. Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you glanced around nervously, half-hoping he’d change his mind.

It wasn’t long before you heard it—the unmistakable growl of Rafe’s truck. The rumble of the engine carried over the sound of the party, the deep vibration cutting through the night like a warning. You swallowed hard, watching as the black pickup rounded the curve, its headlights sweeping across the sand and scattering a group of people loitering near the edge of the party.

Sarah noticed too, her eyes narrowing. “Is that—?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

The truck came to a halt, gravel crunching beneath its massive tires. The engine idled for a moment before shutting off, and then the door swung open. Rafe stepped out, his figure illuminated by the headlights. He didn’t need to say a word; the way he walked, shoulders squared and jaw tight, said everything.

“Great,” Sarah muttered under her breath. “Your guard dog’s here.”

You shot her a look, but she wasn’t wrong.

Rafe’s gaze scanned the crowd before locking onto you. His lips pressed into a thin line as he strode toward you, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed in his wake.

“Rafe,” you started, stepping forward to meet him halfway.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the noise around you.

“I’m just hanging out,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s not a big deal."

“Not a big deal?” He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here. With them.”

His eyes flicked toward the Pogues, who were watching the exchange from a safe distance. JJ looked like he was enjoying the show, but Sarah was visibly annoyed.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It matters,” he shot back, his voice dropping lower. He stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating. “You didn’t even tell me where you were going.”

“I told you I was with friends!”

“And you think that’s enough?” He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You think I’m just gonna sit back and be okay with this?”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut you off, his blue eyes piercing into yours. “It isn’t up for debate.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. His words left no room for argument, and deep down, you knew you weren’t going to win this.

“Let’s go,” he said, his tone softer now but no less commanding.

You glanced back at the Pogues, who were watching from the bonfire. Sarah looked like she wanted to say something, but she held back.

Rafe’s hand found your wrist, and you let him lead you toward his truck. The ride home was silent, tension thick in the air. You didn’t even know what to say.

But when you glanced at him, his jaw tight and his grip firm on the wheel, a small part of you felt safe.

The truck rumbled down the empty road, its interior dimly lit by the dashboard lights. You stared out the window, watching the trees blur into dark shapes as the tension between you and Rafe pressed down like a heavy weight.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles pale against the leather, and his jaw was set, ticking every so often when he clenched his teeth. He hadn’t said a word since leaving the Boneyard, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to break the silence or let it stretch out indefinitely.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you finally said, your voice soft but steady.

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road. “Didn’t have to do what?”

“Show up like that. Make it a whole…thing.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I did. You think I’m gonna let you hang around there with them?”

“They’re my friends,” you argued, turning to look at him.

“You just met them,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the low hum of the truck.

You blinked, startled by the intensity in his tone. He glanced at you briefly, his expression softening just enough to make your chest tighten.

“Look,” he sighed, his voice calmer now. “I’m not just gonna sit back while you put yourself in situations where I can’t be there to make sure you’re okay.”

You frowned. “Rafe, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, gripping the wheel tighter. “You don’t see who people really are. You’re too…trusting. You don’t know what could’ve happened if I wasn’t there.”

You didn’t respond, unsure how to process his words. Part of you wanted to push back, to defend yourself, but the other part—the one that always felt safest when Rafe was around—couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his voice.

The truck slowed as he turned onto the gravel driveway leading to Tannyhill. The familiar crunch of tires against stone filled the silence, and the sprawling house came into view, its windows glowing faintly in the darkness.

Rafe shifted the truck into park and turned off the engine, but he didn’t move to get out. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair as he finally looked at you.

“You piss me off, you know that?” he said, but there was no real anger in his voice.

You bit back a smile, crossing your arms. “I’m aware.”

He shook his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, the tension eased, and the bickering dynamic you were so used to surfaced.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he muttered. “Always gotta test my patience.”

“And you can’t help acting like a guard dog,” you shot back, your voice light but teasing.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before his expression turned serious again. “But seriously. Don’t ever do that again. If you’re going somewhere, you tell me. And if you’re with them”—his jaw tightened briefly—“I need to know.”

“Rafe—”

“Promise me,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind.

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. “Fine. I promise.”

“Good,” he said, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

He reached over and opened the passenger door for you, but before you could climb out, he added, “And next time? Don’t make me chase you down.”

You rolled your eyes, hopping out of the truck. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so reckless,” he called after you as you walked toward the front door, not even bothering to wait for him as Tannyhill was practically your second home.

But there was no heat behind his words, only the lingering traces of a smile.

~

[singmyaubade]

Shades Of Cool

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.

"And when-" Pope began.

"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.

You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.

You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.

But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.

All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.

But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.

"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.

You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.

Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.

Which meant the only choice was the beach party,

JJ cheered, "I win!"

You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.

It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.

You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.

Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.

You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.

All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.

But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.

And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.

You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.

You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.

His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.

You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.

"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.

His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.

You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.

You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.

"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.

"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.

"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.

"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"

"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"

"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"

"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"

"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.

"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.

"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.

"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"

"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.

He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.

"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.

Great attempt at being a gentlemen.

"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.

"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.

"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.

He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.

The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?

"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.

"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.

You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"

He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.

Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"

"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.

"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.

He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"

Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"

He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.

Asshole.

"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"

"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.

He really believed in this bullshit.

"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.

"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.

"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.

"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.

"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.

"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.

"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.

The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.

As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.

He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.

'What an asshole,' You thought,

Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.

You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.

You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.

You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.

You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.

You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.

You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.

Sounds like how they described him.

But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.

You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.

Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.

You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,

And everything went black.

tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22

[brunchable]

Christmas Present | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Christmas Meet-Ugly, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: You and Bucky are fighting over the last deluxe holiday gift set. The petty bickering escalates into a full-blown argument in front of shocked holiday shoppers, causing store security to intervene. As punishment, the frazzled guard handcuffs you together in the security office until you both "calm down." A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Grab the deluxe toy train set, pay, and leave. That was the plan. But life had other plans, and those plans came in the shape of a six-foot something man with a smirk as sharp as the jawline above it.

You reached for the last box on the shelf—your prize, your golden ticket, the sole reason you braved the chaos of twenty-third shoppers.

"Excuse me, I believe I was here first," you said sweetly, gripping the box.

"Excuse you, sweetheart," the man countered, one metal hand already gripping the other end of the box. "I had my eye on this before you decided to swoop in like some holiday vulture."

"Holiday vulture?!" you spat, yanking the box closer to your chest. "I don’t see your name on it, Terminator."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make you flinch. “Name’s Bucky, not Terminator. And I’d be happy to write it on the box for you... after I take it home.”

“Not happening,” you hissed, tugging harder. The box creaked ominously under the strain.

“Let go,” he growled.

“You let go!”

By now, a crowd of amused onlookers had formed, phones out, capturing every moment like a live-action reality show. One kid shouted, “Go lady! You’ve got this!” while a woman in a reindeer sweater whispered, “This is better than The Bachelor.”

“Look, lady,” Bucky said through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to ruin Christmas for you—”

“Oh, really? That’s what this feels like!”

“But my friend’s kid specifically asked for this,” he finished, as if that were a valid excuse.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, so did my niece. And unlike you, I didn’t wait until the last minute to shop.”

“Your cart’s full of candles!” he shot back, pointing to your precariously stacked haul.

You gasped, scandalized. “They’re scented candles and they make great gifts! Not that you’d understand.”

“I understand they’re not as hard to find as this!” he said, gesturing wildly to the now-doomed train set.

The tug-of-war escalated, your battle waging in the aisle of festive chaos. The crowd grew, complete with commentary.

“Bet five bucks on the lady!”

“Ten on the guy with the arm!”

And then—CRASH. The box tore clean down the middle, spilling its contents across the floor. Tiny train cars scattered like shrapnel, and a miniature conductor figure flew into a nearby stroller, making the baby cry.

Gasps echoed through the store as you and Bucky froze, still clutching your respective halves. Somewhere in the distance, someone yelled, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

A whistle cut through the air. “Alright, break it up, you two!”

You turned to find a middle-aged security guard glaring at you like an exhausted babysitter. His name tag read “Carl,” and he looked about one tantrum away from quitting.

“We were just—”

“I don’t care!” Carl snapped, his moustache twitching with barely contained rage. “Both of you. Security office. Now.”

The security office smelled like stale coffee and regret. You sat handcuffed to Bucky, who, despite his protests, looked far too comfortable with the situation.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, yanking futilely on the cuffs. “We’re adults!”

“Debatable,” Carl deadpanned, sipping from his 'World’s Best Grandpa' mug. “You two are staying cuffed until you learn how to act like it.”

“I’m not a criminal!” you protested.

“Not what the footage shows,” Carl replied, spinning his chair to reveal the grainy security camera feed of you and Bucky mid-squabble. The freeze-frame of you squawking like a bird while clutching a toy train in a death grip was particularly unflattering.

“I’m offended on her behalf,” Bucky said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, shut it,” you hissed, elbowing him.

“You’re the one who tore the box!”

“You’re the one with the metal arm. That thing’s basically a wrecking ball!”

Carl slammed his mug down. 

“Enough!” He massaged his temples like a teacher on their last day before retirement. “You’re staying here until I feel confident you won’t burn the store down.”

“Burn the store down?” you repeated, aghast, throwing your hands in the air as much as the cuffs allowed.

“Trust me, I’ve seen worse,” Carl muttered, eyeing both of you like feral raccoons fighting over a sandwich. With an exhausted sigh, he locked the door behind him and muttered something about “needing a damn coffee break,” leaving you and Bucky alone in the tiny, overheated room.

The silence that followed was so oppressive it felt like the room had shrunk. Only the faint, mocking jingle of Jingle Bells played faintly from the store’s speakers as you and Bucky sat shoulder-to-shoulder, stewing.

Bucky, apparently unable to sit still, started bouncing his knee—a rapid, relentless motion that made your entire chair vibrate like a washing machine on spin cycle.

“Stop that,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, his knee bouncing harder.

“Your leg,” you hissed. “The whole chair is shaking! Are you trying to make me seasick?”

His lips twitched, clearly enjoying your misery. “It’s a free country.”

“Not for your knee, it’s not!”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be bouncing my knee if I wasn’t chained to someone with candle obsession issues,” he shot back.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who went full WWE over a toy train set!”

“You’re the one who tore it in half, lady!” he said, pointing accusingly.

“I was fighting for my family’s honor,” you retorted dramatically, crossing your arms as much as you could.

“You mean your candles.”

“It’s called being thoughtful, you Grinch impersonator!”

His knee bounced harder, and you grabbed his leg in desperation, making him pause. “Seriously, stop! I’m going to throw up, and then you’ll really regret this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But only because you look like you might actually hurl, and I don’t need Carl coming back and cuffing me to the radiator this time.”

“So,” Bucky continued after a beat of silence, “Do you always fight strangers over train sets, or is today special?”

You glared at him. “Do you always shop last minute and ruin people’s holidays, or is that your side gig?”

He snorted. “Ruining holidays? That’s harsh. I’m saving them.”

“By what? Sabotaging shoppers?”

“By making sure my best friend’s kid gets the one thing he asked for,” Bucky replied, voice softening slightly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. 

“Okay, that’s… kind of sweet,” you admitted reluctantly.

“What about you?” he asked. “Candles for everyone?”

“No,” you mumbled. “The train set was for my niece. She’s… had a tough year.”

Bucky nodded, silence enveloping the two of you yet again, the tinny chorus of Frosty the Snowman blared overhead, and the absurdity of your situation finally hit you. You started giggling, and to your surprise, so did he.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still grinning.

“This,” you said between laughs. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been part of.”

“Right,” he agreed, laughing harder.

For the first time since being forced to sit there, you weren’t arguing. Well, unless you counted arguing about whose laugh was uglier.

Carl finally returned, jangling the keys like a janitor who had seen too much. His Santa hat was slightly askew, and his mustache twitched with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He looked like someone’s adorable grandpa who had just been told the grandkids set fire to the Christmas tree.

“Alright, you two,” he grumbled, unlocking the cuffs. “You’re free. But before you go…”

He planted his hands on his hips, his gut straining against his red vest, and glared at you like you’d just stolen cookies from the jar. 

“I’ve been doing this job for fifteen years, and let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot of nonsense. But this—” he waved a hand between you and Bucky “—takes the fruitcake. Grown adults fighting over a toy train set like it’s the last turkey on Earth? Really?”

You started to open your mouth to argue, but Carl cut you off with a stern wag of his finger.

“No, no. Don’t even try to explain. You’re both guilty. Guilty of being Christmas disasters. And you…” he pointed at Bucky, his stubby finger trembling with indignation. “You’re what? Pushing 40? Shouldn’t you know better?”

That’s when Bucky’s lips twitched. And twitched again. And suddenly, he was laughing. Not just chuckling—a full-on, shoulder-shaking laugh that echoed through the tiny room.

Carl’s mustache twitched in annoyance. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said between gasps for air, “but… I’m being lectured by someone who looks like Santa’s understudy.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re like a cute little Christmas elf—just missing the pointy shoes.”

Carl’s face turned as red as his vest. “I am not cute!” he barked.

“You kinda are,” Bucky said, grinning.

You smacked his arm. “Stop antagonizing him!”

But even you couldn’t suppress a giggle as Carl threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I’m done. Get out. Both of you. Before I call other mall security and have you escorted out by the Grinch Squad.”

Bucky saluted dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Carl!”

Carl muttered something about needing a stiff eggnog and waddled back to his desk, leaving you and Bucky to stumble out of the security office.

“Well, that was fun,” you deadpanned, starting to walk away, only to stop when Bucky called out.

“Wait! Hey!”

You turned, eyebrows raised. “What? Did you leave your dignity back there?”

He ignored the jab, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the first time since the ordeal started, he actually looked... awkward.

“I, uh… was just wondering what you’re doing after this.”

You blinked at him, genuinely caught off guard. “What am I doing? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, serious,” he said with a little shrug, his smirk less cocky and more boyish now. “You’re, uh… funny. And kind of cute, when you’re not threatening to strangle me over toy trains.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“This—” you gestured dramatically between you both “—is the foundation of your flirting strategy? Chaos, insults, and shared custody of a train set?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” he teased, grinning now.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I just spent an hour handcuffed to you while debating whether or not to throw you out a window, and now you want to… hang out?”

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, like this was the most reasonable suggestion in the world.

“Because this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “I barely know you, we’re still enemies by all accounts, and—”

“You haven’t said no,” he interrupted, cutting you off with a pointed look.

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Damn him and his stupid smirk.

Finally, you sighed, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity. “Fine. But if this turns into another wrestling match over a menu, I’m walking out.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Whatever you want.”

As you both walked out of the office areas and back to the mall, you muttered under your breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Believe it, sweetheart,” he said, falling into step beside you. “And next time? Maybe we’ll skip the handcuffs… unless you’re into that.”

You glared at him, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into an unwilling smile. Maybe chaos wasn’t such a bad foundation after all.

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the room as Bucky groggily reached for the remote. Still half-asleep, he flicked on the TV, more out of habit than interest. The morning show’s upbeat jingle played, and he squinted at the screen, his brain catching up to the cheerful voices of the two hosts.

“—and now, for what might be the most hilarious Christmas shopping moment caught on camera!” the female host announced, barely suppressing her laughter.

Her co-host, a grinning man in a Santa tie, chimed in, “Oh, this is a good one. Forget Hallmark—this is real-life rom-com material, folks. Roll the clip!”

Bucky froze mid-stretch as the screen transitioned to shaky footage of himself and you, locked in a dramatic tug-of-war over the train set in the middle of the toy aisle. The commentary from the crowd was clear as day.

“Go lady! You’ve got this!”

“Ten bucks on the guy with the metal arm!”

“Oh, no,” Bucky muttered, sitting up straighter, dread pooling in his stomach.

The video jumped to the box tearing in half, scattering train pieces like confetti, followed by the baby wailing and someone shouting, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

The hosts erupted into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” the woman said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m calling it now—this is the meet-cute of the decade. I can hear the Hallmark writers typing this into a script.”

Her co-host nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Two strangers, both fighting for the same toy on the eve of Christmas eve—classic enemies-to-lovers setup.”

They both howled with laughter as the clip transitioned to grainy security footage of you and Bucky cuffed together, bickering like an old married couple.

“And this is where the movie writes itself,” the man said, pointing to the screen. “They’re forced to spend time together, cuffed in the security office. Sparks fly. Cue the heartwarming ending!”

The woman leaned toward the camera, her expression conspiratorial. “So, the real question is… did they exchange numbers? Did they get coffee? Did they—”

Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, flipping it over to see a message from Sam:

Sam: Congratulations, you’re famous. 

A second message immediately followed:

Sam: Also, what happened next? Don’t leave me hanging! Did you at least get her number?

Bucky tossed his phone onto the bed with a groan, only for it to buzz again. This time it was Steve:

Steve: They’re right. This does sound like the start of a love story. Please tell me you didn’t blow it.

“Unbelievable,” Bucky muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face as the TV hosts continued speculating.

“What do we think, folks?” the male host asked, gesturing dramatically. “Should we start a Twitter campaign to find out what happened next? I need closure!”

“Absolutely!” the female host replied. “If you’re watching this, toy train couple, please—reach out. America is invested.”

“I’m never leaving the house again.” Bucky groaned louder, sinking into the pillows. 

His phone buzzed again.

Sam: Famous AND trending. Look at you.

Bucky grabbed a pillow and smothered his face with it, his muffled voice barely audible: “I hate Christmas.”

He sighed and shifted, his pillow falling to the floor—he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, his irritation melted away as he looked to his right, where your figure was still peacefully curled under the covers. Your hair was a mess from the night before, your cheek pressed against the pillow in a way that made you look adorably innocent—though Bucky distinctly remembered you weren’t so innocent a few hours ago.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. He let out a breath, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Actually. . . Maybe I don’t hate it too much.”

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @Janonymus0 @veronicapaula

[athenalvss]

FIRST LOVE ▬ ( Dick grayson! )

summary: A young Dick Grayson is in love with one of his father's younger teammates in the Justice League.

note:I think Dick in the s1 of yj was 13/14 and I write abt reader like she has 19/20, Just to communicate the age gap, enjoy :)

pairing:(platonic) yj!dick grayson x fem reader

open request - Dick masterlist

The first time you met was once when Bruce took you to the Batcave to accompany him on a mission, actually only Dick met you, he was not allowed to be there tonight, Bruce had forbidden him to go down to the cave that night and that they would not go out on patrol together, and there he was hiding watching the interaction between the most beautiful girl he had seen in his short thirteen years and his adoptive father.

You stood next to Batman, nodding as he explained the details of a simple reconnaissance mission. You were dressed in your suit, a modern design that combined functionality with style, and your posture displayed confidence… though a friendly smile softened your features.

Batman walked you toward the Batmobile, helping you get in, and Dick saw you laugh at something he said. Laugh. With Batman. As if that were even possible.

How unfair life was to him.

But the first time you officially met was shortly after Young Justice was created. Bruce, dressed as Batman and Red Tornado, had introduced you to the small group of teenagers with the intention of having you be part of their training, and perhaps even help them understand the great responsibility that this job entails at a young age.

But young Robin was too busy bragging that he already knew the pretty girl.

"Team," Red Tornado announced in a mechanically solemn voice. "This is the newest active member of the Justice League. She'll assist in your training."

You stood confidently beside Batman, smiling kindly at the group of expectant teenagers.

"Hey guys" you greeted with a friendly smile. "I hope we can learn a lot together. "

Robin almost fainted.

Of course he recognized you.

The goddess of the Batcave was there, in the same room, and this time... he could talk to you without hiding behind the Batmobile.

Wally nudged him. “Wow... who is she? She’s so f...”

"What are you saying, Wally?!" Robin interrupted quickly, his voice a little louder than usual.

Everyone looked at him, he cleared his throat, crossing his arms as if he hadn't just yelled in front of the team. "I mean, obviously I know her. She's been in the Batcave before. With Batman. And me. Nothing new for me. "

Wally raised an eyebrow, amused. "Really? And you didn't say anything?"

Robin shrugged, putting on his best 'this doesn't affect me' pose, although he was sure his ears were turning red under the mask.

"I didn't mean to brag," he said with a small smile. "But we've already talked. she was on a mission with B, and I showed her some things about the cave. She asked me for advice. The usual."

Wally chuckled. “she asked you for advice, sure.”

You stepped forward, smiling warmly as you watched them. “Robin, right?” you asked, addressing him directly.

The boy's heart almost fell to the floor.

"Yes," he replied immediately, straightening as if he were undergoing a military inspection. "Of course. Robin. You know, the first one. The original. The best. Your Robin."

Wally coughed to hide a laugh.

"Thank you for having me. I'm happy to be here," you continued calmly, then lowered your voice a little. "And.... I remember you."

Robin froze.

—I wasn't sure if I should tell you, but... I thought it was really cute how you hid behind the computer that night.

Robin blinked. “How…?”

"Boy, do you think I'd be in the League if I didn't see you hiding behind a piece of furniture? No one escapes a League member," you winked mischievously.

Wally squealed with laughter as Robin raised a hand to his face. "I'm going to need an identity change," he muttered.

ᯓ★

The Watchtower meeting hall was lively, finally the young league had been allowed to come see the place and watch the daily routine of the heroes who were there, what should have been a happy day for everyone, for Robin, the energy of the place had a slightly bitter taste.

From his place leaning against the wall, arms crossed and brow slightly furrowed, he watched the scene in front of him as if it were a movie he hadn't asked to see.

You were standing in the middle of the conference room, laughing with Hal Jordan, while he excitedly gestured about who knows about what. The way you laughed, with your shoulders slightly raised and that genuine expression of amusement… it didn't help at all.

Robin looked away with a silent grunt. 'Great,' he thought, now his special day at the Watchtower was ruined by the more annoying version of Green Lantern and his damn perfect white teeth and that jagged jawline.

"Relax, Wonder Boy," Wally told him, appearing at his side, munching some cookies from the base's kitchen. "They're just talking."

"Who said I'm not relaxed?" Robin replied, a little too quickly.

—Your face. You have a “I want to throw a batarang at Green Lantern” vibe.

Robin snorted. “I wouldn’t throw a batarang at him…” Pause ."…very strong. "

At that moment, you turned your head slightly and smiled at Batman, who had come over to review some files with you and Hal. Batman said something to you in a low voice, and you nodded with a warm smile.

Dick felt a small emotional short circuit.

Bruce now too? Bruce?!? Since when did you smile like that with him?! I thought your thing with Batman was respect, professional admiration… not those kind of smiles that gave you stomach cramps!

Wally spoke again, his mouth still half full of crackers. “I think you should take a deep breath before you explode like an overloaded microchip, buddy.”

At that moment, you said goodbye to Hal with a gentle pat on the arm and walked toward the group of young people. Your eyes lingered on Dick for a second, and your smile widened.

"Wally, Robin," you greeted him in that warm tone you only used with him, even though he refused to admit it. "How was your visit?"

Dick cleared his throat and straightened his back as if he hadn't been frowning with dramatic intensity for five minutes. Wally, for his part, smiled as if nothing had happened.

"That's great!" the speedster replied. "I mean, it's not every day you see Superman eating a giant salad for lunch, right?"

You laughed softly, and that laugh was enough to make Dick forget for half a second that he was angry at Hal Jordan, at you, at Bruce, and at cosmic injustice in general.

"And you, Robin?" you asked with a nod. "What did you think?"

Robin opened his mouth, but for some reason the words didn't come out immediately. His brain, which normally ran at the speed of a supercomputer, seemed to have rebooted.

"I'm... fine. Everything," he murmured, before clearing his throat and adding in a firmer tone. "The security design of the north corridors is quite efficient. Although there is a minimal leak in the retinal scanner in room 6B. Nothing serious, but... I noticed it."

Wally looked at him as if he had just quoted an engineering manual in the middle of a conversation about movies.

You smiled with genuine amusement and nodded, as if you didn't find it ridiculous at all. "I knew you'd notice something like that. Good eye."

Dick felt like he was floating.

"Yeah, well... efficiency's my thing," he said with a slight shrug, trying to sound casual. Wally nudged him, not conspiratorially this time, but to keep him from falling over because of his inflated ego.

"You're adorable."

Dick felt as if the ground disappeared for a second beneath his boots.

And Wally, behind him, lost it: he put his hand to his mouth to hold back a laugh.

"See you later, little guards," you added sweetly, ruffling his hair before leaving with Hal, who was waiting for you at one of the doors.

Dick stood still, as if struck by lightning.

"I'm not little..." he murmured.

Wally patted him on the back with a laugh. "Bro... you just got lethally friendzoned with love. You're going to remember this for years."

Dick didn't reply. He just touched his messy hair with a silly half smile he couldn't stop.

ᯓ★

It was your first time accompanying Young Justice on a mission, and everything had gone to hell so fast you couldn't believe it.

No one understood what was happening, but since you were the oldest of all, you were supposed to stay calm and find a solution for this strange moment.

The rift in the sky had exploded without warning. A blinding white flash enveloped them, and the next thing they knew, they were no longer in their timeline.

The technology, the architecture, the atmosphere: everything indicated they'd traveled several years into the future. Just enough to make some familiar faces unrecognizable... and others too recognizable to not send shivers down your spine.

“Where… are we?” Aqualad asked, cautiously assessing the spot where they had landed.

"That's what I'd like to know," said a deep, confident voice behind you.

You turned around as a reflex .

And there he was

Tall, imposing. In a black suit with a light blue symbol in the middle of his chest, he looked like a boy about your age, one you definitely didn't know.

"Are you...?" He looked at everyone, his attention finally settling on you. "Oh, damn."

"I'm surprised to see you here. Although I must admit… so far, this has been a pleasant visit."

Robin narrowed his eyes .

"Do you know us?" you asked cautiously.

"Let's just say I have good memories," he said, in a tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

Dick, in the background, clenched his fists. Good memories? What kind of memories?

Nightwing winked at you before looking back at the group. "But don't worry, I won't leave you trapped in my time. We'll figure out how to get you back... after we catch up."

Robin couldn't stop staring at him. Would this be what he'd be like in the future? Would this be how he'd behave? Would this be how he'd talk to you...?

And the worst part is, you didn't seem upset. In fact, you were smiling.

Maybe you weren't recognizing Dick as Nightwing, they didn't look much alike, but it was inevitable for Dick not to recognize himself. .

"We need to talk alone," he said in a serious tone.

Nightwing hesitated, but nodded, and the two of them walked off into a darker hallway.

And there, when they were far enough away, Robin turned to him with a frown. "Hey... you," he began, somewhat awkwardly, "I mean, me. Major. Can I ask you something?"

Nightwing looked at him curiously. “Shoot.”

"She..." he swallowed. "You know, she... In this time... you and her, are you...?"

Nightwing looked at him for a long second before answering. "No, Dick. We were never together."

Silence.

Dick blinked . "Excuse me?" he said with an incredulous chuckle. "Never as in 'not yet'? Or never as in never, never?"

Nightwing gave him a sympathetic look. That was worse.

"As in “never ever.” As in “your eternal crush will eventually marry someone else.” As in “you had zero chance, bro.”

Dick opened his mouth. He closed it. Then he opened it again, only to complain with all the drama his frustrated little teenage body could muster.

"Are you telling me that neither growing up, nor having this cool guy demeanor, nor having that deep, sexy voice, I achieved anything?! Nothing at all?!"

Nightwing shrugged. “Well… you managed to maintain a nice friendship. That’s something.”

"A NICE FRIENDSHIP!" Dick repeated, his face one of existential outrage. "You flirted with her five minutes ago! You flirted with her in front of me like it was the most natural thing in the world!"

"Sure, but she didn't know it was me, or rather, you."

Dick pointed at him as if it were evidence in court. "That makes everything worse!! You flirted with her like someone else and it failed!"

[sereia4skz]

hii could you do poly ot8 x fem reader where they do a beach day? thank you so much! :)

drabble | sun, sand, and swims

pairing: poly!straykids x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: Berry is there :))

word count: 838

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

The break between tour stops is short, barely a few days, but Chan insists they make the most of it. He barely sets foot on the sand before dropping to his knees and opening his arms wide. “Come to Daddy!” he calls.

Berry bolts down the beach straight into his chest, knocking him flat onto his back in a mess of fur, limbs, and sand. He laughs like a man finally breathing fresh air, rubbing his face against her fur. “I missed you, baby girl.”

You trail behind with a tote bag over your shoulder, towels bundled under your arm, and sunglasses perched on your head. Chan looks up just as you kneel beside them to ruffle Berry’s ears. “She’s happy to see you,” you say gently.

Chan’s eyes soften. You nudge his shoulder with your own. The look he gives you is so open, so full of love, it makes your chest ache. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Our Berry.”

The beach is mostly quiet, just a few families scattered across the sand, the cry of seagulls overhead, and the rhythmic crash of waves. As the boys set up towels and umbrellas, you make your rounds with sunscreen in hand.

Hyunjin is the first to offer his back, long hair tied in a bun, already glistening with sun and salt. “Be gentle,” he teases over his shoulder.

Felix stretches out beside him, shirt off and eyes closed, wincing as you touch the base of his spine. “Ow…”

“Still tight?”

“Worse than tight,” he mutters, letting out a breath as your thumbs work slow, deliberate circles into the tense muscle. “You’re magic.”

“Your poor back,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades. “But I’ve got you.”

Meanwhile, Jeongin and Changbin kick around a soccer ball, screaming exaggerated cheers and whoops every time Jisung trips over nothing.

“You suck!” Jeongin yells, even as Changbin scores another goal.

“Louder!” Changbin shouts. “The world needs to hear my greatness!”

From the shade of a wide umbrella, Minho lounges with Berry curled against his thigh. Seungmin sits beside him, sipping a cold drink and wearing his usual unimpressed expression.

“He’s so loud,” Seungmin mutters.

“He’s always loud,” Minho replies. “And Jeongin’s just encouraging him.”

You flop down beside them with a sigh, watching Felix hurry toward the ball. “They’re having fun.”

Seungmin smirks. “We’re having peace.”

You lean your head on Minho’s shoulder and watch the chaos from the shade. Berry rolls onto her back, paws twitching as she dreams. The warm breeze ruffles your hair. For a moment, everything feels completely still, like the rest of the world has been left behind with the tour buses and airport lounges.

Eventually, the water calls to you. You look at the two boys beside you, but it’s clear they don’t care for the water in the slightest.

Hyunjin meets you at the edge of the waves, hair now loose and sticking to his neck. He grins, eyes gleaming.

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” he says, offering his hand.

You take it and run straight into a crashing wave, dragging him down with you. He sputters and laughs, dunking you gently in retaliation. Chan joins a minute later, wiping his face dramatically after getting soaked.

“I’m not built for this!” he cries.

“You’re Australian,” you point out.

“Exactly! I know what’s in the water!”

You, Hyunjin, and Chan end up floating lazily, watching the clouds drift overhead as your legs sway with the tide.

“Let’s never go back,” Chan murmurs.

You smile, eyes closed. “We can stay until sunset.”

Eventually, the water grows too chilly and the sun too hot, so you grab Jeongin and head off to the nearby ice cream stand. You each pick a popsicle, yours mango, his rainbow sherbet, and wander slowly back toward your towel, barefoot in the hot sand.

“Should we have gotten some for the others?” you ask.

Jeongin licks his cone thoughtfully. “They’ll live.”

The moment you return, all hell breaks loose.

“No way,” Felix gasps. “Ice cream?”

“You betrayed us,” Hyunjin cries, clutching his chest.

You shrug. “You’re the millionaires, not me.”

Chan reaches out for your cone with puppy eyes. “Just one bite.”

“No bites for losers,” Jeongin says, mouth full.

Berry barks once like she agrees.

Eventually, you surrender to a group cuddle pile under the umbrella. Felix tucks himself under your arm, Seungmin rests his head on your thigh with a book open beside him, and Minho stretches across everyone’s legs with Berry dozing peacefully against his stomach.

Changbin, Jeongin, and Hyunjin are still wet from swimming, huddled together in a sandy tangle on the next towel. Chan lays closest to you, his hand laced with yours in the warm sand.

The sun dips low, painting everything in honey and amber. You watch the light play across their faces, the people you love most, and feel full in the deepest, softest way.

“Best day off,” Felix mumbles, eyes fluttering shut.

“Best day,” Chan echoes, gently squeezing your hand.

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue

[drewsephrry]

Love Island - Episode 10: This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 5.3k

warnings: cuss words, sexual innuendos

series masterlist

“Islanders, could you gather around the firepit?” Ariana’s voice slices through the villa. Everyone freezes. Then slowly, they rise, nervous energy rippling through the group.

“That can’t be good.” Y/N mutters under her breath, smoothing her dress as she stands. Rafe trails behind her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. The Islanders take their spots beside their pairings.

“How has it been so far?” Ariana asks, smiling in her glittery dress.

“Good.” Maddy says, leaning into Kelce.

“Yeah, pretty fun.” Sarah adds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner.” Ariana continues. “I wanted you to have time to settle in and get to know each other. But I’m not here just to check in.”

Smiles fade. A collective breath is held.

“As you all know, we have two single Islanders in the villa, Ryan and Abigail.”

They both nod.

“How has your journey been so far?”

“It’s been good.” Abigail replies, speaking for both.

“Any connections starting to spark?” Ariana prompts.

“Yeah.” Abigail nods and looks at Ryan then back at Ariana. “A few.”

“That's great.” Ariana grins. “Now, could all the girls, besides Abigail, join me?”

The girls exchange looks before rising and lining up beside Ariana, visibly tense.

“Abigail and Ryan, you came here to find a connection. So tonight, you’ll each have the chance to couple up with anyone in the villa, regardless of current pairings.”

Gasps scatter across the firepit. Y/N instinctively looks at Rafe. He’s trying to look relaxed, but she can see the tension under his calm.

“Abigail, you're up first.”

Abigail stands, her fingers nervously fidgeting as she stares ahead.

“I want to couple up with this boy because he made me feel really welcome. He’s funny, cute and I think there’s something worth exploring. So…the boy I want to couple up with is…JJ.”

Heads turn as JJ stands, grinning and gives her a hug.

“JJ, are you happy with Abigail’s choice?” Ariana asks.

“Yeah.” JJ says. “We’ve had some good chats. I’m happy to see where it goes.”

Ariana turns to Ryan.

“Ryan, it’s your turn. Who would you like to couple up with?”

Ryan rises slowly, lets out a breath.

“I want to couple up with this girl because…honestly? She’s been stuck in my head since the challenge. She’s funny, stunning and just...gets me. We’ve had really great conversations and I’d like to keep getting to know her.”

Rafe's eyes are locked on him now.

“So the girl I want to couple up with is…Y/N.”

There’s a pause. Then movement. Y/N swallows and steps forward. She glances at Rafe once, just once, then walks toward Ryan. They hug and sit together. Ryan drapes his arm lightly along the back of the seat behind her. She doesn’t lean in. 

“Y/N, how are you feeling about Ryan’s decision?” Ariana turns to her. Y/N hesitates. 

“Yeah. I’m okay with it. He’s…sweet. And I do want to get to know him more.” She replies, her voice is steady, but quiet.

Across the firepit, Rafe’s posture tightens. His head tilts back slightly, jaw clenched. 

“What the fuck?” Topper mutters under his breath. Ariana faces the boys. 

“Abigail and Y/N are taken. So now, I’ll call the rest of you to choose from the remaining girls.”

The recoupling continues with John B pairing with Sarah, Topper with Alyssa and Kelce with Maddy.

Pope steps forward, eyes flicking between Cleo and Kiara.

“I want to couple up with this girl because she’s really amazing and I was too much of an idiot to see it before. I’d really like another chance. So the girl I want to couple up with is…Cleo.”

Cleo walks over and hugs him. 

“Rafe.” Ariana says.

He rises slowly, scanning the group. His eyes land briefly on Y/N, who stares straight ahead at the fire, guilt pressing at her chest.

“I didn’t expect this tonight.” Rafe says, voice low but clear. “But I’ll couple up with Kiara.”

Kiara joins him with an annoyed expression.

“You could’ve at least tried.” She mutters as they sit. Rafe doesn’t respond. Ariana smiles, wrapping things up.

“Here are your new couples. I hope you all enjoy the rest of evening and I’ll see you very soon.” She waves and walks off, leaving the Islanders reeling. Rafe stands first.

“Fuck this.” He mutters, storming off toward the villa. Y/N watches him disappear, heart heavy. 

“You’re not even gonna follow him?” Topper’s eyes snap toward her, sharp and accusing.

“What?” Y/N blinks, thrown off.

“Why should she?” Cleo cuts in quickly. “He hurt her.”

“They made up last night.” Topper fires back, turning fully to face her.

“Wait, what?” Maddy’s eyes widen. “You two made up?”

“You didn’t tell them?” Topper glares at Y/N, the tension thick.

“I was going to.” Y/N murmurs.

“Do you even care about him?” He asks, in disbelief.

“Of course I do.” Her voice cracks.

“You’re so fake.” Topper’s voice drops, venom sharp. “He’s been busting his ass trying to fix things and you’re just stringing him along like it’s a game.”

Sarah immediately stands, anger flashing in her eyes.

“Don’t call her that.”

John B tugs on her arm, but she shrugs him off. 

“He’s been owning up, apologizing, giving you space, doing everything right. And you? You let him think you’re meeting him halfway. Then you turn around and say you want to get to know Ryan?” He looks at Ryan, who sits uncomfortably before Topper pushes on. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

Kelce stands fast.

“Enough, Topper. Walk it off.” He says, voice low but fierce. Topper flinches but sneers again, then storms off.

Y/N stays frozen, eyes on the flickering firepit. The silence is heavy.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

The girls just watch her.

Ryan gently squeezes her arm, then stands, giving her space. The boys follow him, leaving the girls alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Maddy asks quietly. There’s more hurt than anger in her voice.

“I wanted to.” Y/N says, voice trembling. 

“I really did. I just…” She inhales sharply. “I was scared you'd judge me…for giving him another chance so fast.”

“Y/N…” Maddy softens. 

“It’s your choice.” Cleo says gently. “We’d never judge you for how you feel.”

“Yeah. We’re here for you.” Maddy adds, reaching for her hand. “Always.”

Kiara crosses her arms. 

“So, what…just like that, you’ve forgiven him?”

“Kiara?” Sarah blinks at her, confused.

“What?” Kiara challenges.

“You’re judging her. This is exactly why she didn’t want to say anything.” Sarah says, defensive.

“I’m not judging.” Kiara snaps. “I’m being honest. He is a cheater, a liar and he has some serious anger issues.”

“Kie…” Cleo warns softly.

“I’m allowed to have an opinion.” Kiara says with a shrug. “And in this case? It’s the truth.” 

Without another word, she turns and walks off. 

“I need a drink.”

Y/N stays seated, eyes on the floor. 

“I messed everything up, didn’t I?” She whispers.

“For not telling us?” Maddy squeezes her hand. “Of course not. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“What about with…him?” Y/N asks, finally looking up. Maddy hesitates. 

“I think…when he heard you wanted to get to know Ryan, it hurt. And maybe now that you're giving him another chance, he’s scared the door's closed.”

The girls nod in silent agreement. Y/N sighs, then rises slowly to her feet. 

“I should probably find him.” She says but before she can go, Maddy catches her wrist. 

“Give him a minute. Let it sink in first.” She advises and Y/N nods slowly. 

“Yeah. You’re right.” She glances back at the girls before stepping away.

Confessional - Y/N "I don't know...everything just feels like a mess right now and it’s all my fault." She stares ahead, voice low, eyes flickering with regret.

In the kitchen, Rafe stands at the counter, drink in hand, Topper leans against the fridge and JJ rummages through the snack drawer.

“I told you, dude. She’s playing you,” Topper says, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “All that ‘I need time’ crap and now she’s all cozy with Ryan like none of it mattered.”

Rafe doesn’t respond, just stares into his glass, jaw tight.

“And the fakest part? She didn’t say a word to the girls. Didn’t even check on you. Like-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Rafe snaps, loud and sudden. Topper freezes mid-sentence, eyebrows raised. JJ snorts under his breath.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Rafe continues, voice sharp. “You don’t even know the full story. So just stay out of it.”

“I am looking out for you.” Topper says defensively. “That’s what friends do.”

“Yeah? Then be a better friend. Because right now, you’re not helping.”

Topper sucks his teeth, shakes his head and stands up from the stool. 

“Got it.” He mutters before walking off. Rafe exhales, runs a hand through his hair and picks up his drink again. He reaches for a chip from JJ’s pile without looking. But JJ casually slides the bag away.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warns. Rafe snorts, grabs one anyway and JJ glares at him. 

“Rude.”

The night winds down faster than usual. After the emotional chaos of the recoupling, the villa feels quieter, heavier. In the makeup room, the girls slip into pajamas and slowly wash the day off their faces.

Y/N heads to the bathroom, to brush her teeth, only to find Rafe already there, drying his face with a towel. He hears the door and lowers the towel just enough to see who it is. 

“Just the man I was looking for.” She offers a small smile, as she walks over to the sinks. Rafe exhales and instinctively takes a step back, eyes dropping to the marbled floor.

“Can we not do this right now?” He mutters. Y/N’s smile fades. Her gaze follows his to the same spot on the floor.

“Yeah...yeah. Sorry.” She says quietly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He gives a slight nod and turns toward the door, only to nearly walk straight into Ryan.

“Oh, sorry.” Ryan says, then freezes when he sees who it is. His eyes flick from Rafe to Y/N standing behind him. “Shit.”

Rafe scoffs under his breath, glances back at Y/N, then at Ryan again. He shakes his head and walks out without another word. Y/N instinctively takes a step after him, but stops herself. He’s not ready. She knows that.

Ryan lingers awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he steps inside.

“Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn’t know you two were...figuring things out. If I had, I wouldn’t have tried anything. I swear.”

“No, don’t apologize.” She says quickly. “This is on me. I should’ve said something. To you, to the girls...to Rafe. I should’ve told him how I actually feel.”

Ryan nods gently, giving her space.

“Can I, um...ask you something?” She asks, fingers fidgeting at her sides.

“Yeah. Anything.”

“Would it be okay if we didn’t cuddle tonight? Or maybe even used a pillow barrier or something?” She asks, awkward but sincere. “I just...I don’t want to make things worse. And I do want to get to know you, Ryan. I mean that. But with everything going on with Rafe, I-”

“I get it.” Ryan says without hesitation. “Seriously. It’s completely fine. No pressure.”

“I feel awful.” She admits. “But it’s just...hard.”

“It is. But you don’t need to feel bad. You’re not doing anything wrong. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, ever.”

Her shoulders relax a little. She looks up at him, grateful.

“Thank you. For being so understanding about all of this.”

“Of course.” He smiles softly.

She reaches out for a hug and he leans in. As they pull apart, she squints up at him, sniffing lightly.

“Wait...is that Tom Ford? Tobacco Vanille?”

“Wow, okay. Yeah. You really know your scents.” He laughs and she grins.

“I have it back home. Harry Styles wears it, so...obviously I had to try it. But it suits you.”

“Noted.” Ryan chuckles, clearly amused.

They share a small look before Y/N steps back and grabs her toothbrush. Ryan moves to the other sink to wash his face, the tension in the room finally easing.

Back downstairs, everyone begins to settle into bed. Y/N and Ryan place a few pillows between them and she offers him a grateful smile, absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger. Across the room, Pope and Cleo chat quietly, while Kelce and Maddy scroll through pictures they took earlier and John B and Sarah are tangled together, giggling and exchanging kisses.

“You guys are disgusting.” JJ calls out, launching a pillow at John B. John B groans and throws it back, but it accidentally smacks Abigail instead.

“Oh my god, Abigail, I’m so sorry!” He says quickly.

“It’s fine. It’s just a pillow.” She shakes her head, unfazed. JJ leans over to check her face anyway, then presses a soft kiss to her cheek.

Rafe enters the room, water bottle in hand and heads toward his bed, which unfortunately happens to be right beside Y/N and Ryan’s. Kiara is already under the covers, scrolling on her phone. When she hears him approach, she glances up and groans.

“Nope. No way. You’re not sleeping here.”

Everyone turns at her voice. Rafe stops mid-step, frowning.

“What?”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you.” Kiara replies, shaking her head. “You’re a liar and a shitty partner.”

Rafe lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Look, I get it. You hate me because of what happened with Y/N. That’s your right. Honestly, I’m not your biggest fan either. But complaining won’t change anything. We’re stuck with this setup and I’m not sleeping in the doghouse.”

With that, he pulls back the covers and climbs in.

“Suck my dick.” Kiara mutters under her breath, aggressively placing a barricade of pillows between them.

Rafe lays on the very edge of the bed, just inches from Y/N’s. She watches him from her side, waiting, hoping for something. A glance, a word, a touch. Anything.

The lights go out and soft goodnights echo around the room as couples settle in.

“Good night.” Y/N whispers to Ryan before turning to her other side, facing Rafe’s bed. Her eyes stay locked on his silhouette. His eyes are closed, but his body is turned toward her. And she wonders if it is because he cannot stand Kiara or because he still wants her?

Eventually, her eyes flutter shut. Sleep taking over. But not for Rafe.

His eyes remain closed because if he looks at her, curled up in bed with someone else, it might break him.

Minutes pass. The room falls silent. Everyone is asleep now, except for John B and Sarah, whose movements under the covers betray them. Rafe slowly sits up, careful not to wake Kiara and gets out of bed. He steps between his and Y/N’s beds and leans down.

“Hey.” He whispers. “Y/N?”

She stirs but doesn’t respond. Gently, he touches her shoulder and she blinks awake, squinting into the darkness.

“Rafe?” She murmurs.

“Come with me.” He says softly.

“What?”

“Just…come with me. Please.”

There’s something raw in his voice that makes her sit up without thinking. She takes his extended hand and he leads her quietly out of the room. They stop at the staircase, where he sits down, gesturing for her to join him.

She hesitates, confused. 

“Why are we on the stairs?” She asks.

“Just come here.” He says again, quieter this time.

With a sigh, she steps closer and he pulls her gently onto his lap. His arms wrap around her and he presses his lips to her shoulder. She exhales slowly, her body melting into his, like this is the first place she’s felt at peace all night.

“How’s your new bed buddy?” Rafe murmurs, his lips brushing her shoulder.

“Rafe…” She turns slightly to face him, her eyes soft. “I’m sorry.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, giving her space to continue.

“I should’ve talked to you…about how I’ve been feeling. About Ryan.” She says quietly. “I was still trying to process everything that happened between us and I didn’t want to rush right back in after what happened.”

She takes a deep breath.

“And…Ryan’s nice. He is charming. And when he chose me…I didn’t want to just shut him down.”

Rafe stares into the darkness, silent, just nodding.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting what we have.” She adds. “There’s something real between us. A connection. A strong one. We’ve had our rough moments, yeah, but we always find our way back to each other.”

He lets out a sigh, scratching the back of his head.

“I just don’t get it. We’re the strongest connection in this whole place. Even after all the fighting, we’re still here. So why throw that away for…some guy?” His voice is laced with frustration.

“We’re not throwing anything away. This is what the experience is supposed to be. Getting to know new people and seeing what fits. That’s all.”

He nods again, but there’s a tightness in his jaw she can’t miss.

“You’re upset.” She observes gently.

“I’m not.” He snaps, too quickly.

“You are.” She says, calmer this time.

He sighs sharply and when she starts to move off his lap, his arms tighten around her waist.

“What are you doing?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“I thought…maybe you needed some space.”

“Don’t.” He says quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to do that.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I know I’m being a dick about this. And I’m sorry. But I…I like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I like you too, Ra-”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” He cuts in, his voice low. She pauses, her shoulders dropping before she gently cups his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“Rafe.” She says firmly. “Don’t doubt how I feel about you. What I feel is real, okay?”

His eyes lock with hers and in the soft moonlight filtering through the window, something shifts in him. She smiles, hands still cradling his jaw.

“Rafe-I-don’t-know-your-middle-name-Cameron…I like you. So, so much.”

He tries to stay composed, but his lips twitch.

“Alexander.” He whispers.

“What?”

“My middle name. It’s Alexander.”

“Rafe Alexander Cameron.” She repeats with a teasing smirk. “That’s kinda hot.”

“Actually Rafe’s short for Rafael.” He smirks.

“Oh, I’m definitely telling the boys that tomorrow.” Her eyes light up.

“Oh my god, please don’t.” He groans.

She laughs, then leans in to kiss him, just a soft press of lips. They smile when they pull back, their foreheads resting together.

“Did I already say I’m sorry?” She whispers.

“One more time wouldn’t hurt.” He teases.

“I’m sorry.” She says again, sincere. “I never meant to hurt you. I should’ve been honest from the start.”

“I'm sorry too.” He says quietly. “I do believe you…about how you feel. And...you're allowed to figure things out with him. Or with anyone. I just-” He pauses, searching for the words. "I don’t like sharing.”

Her fingers gently trail through the hair at the nape of his neck, grounding them both in the moment.

“My head’s not that easy to turn, you know.” She says with a sultry voice. He grins, leaning in. They kiss again, deeper this time. Lingering. Their hands explore, their bodies pull closer. When she pulls back, her lips are flushed and her eyes searching.

“Just one more minute.”

She nods, letting him kiss her again. This time, it’s more intense. Mouths moving with urgency, fingers tangling, breaths quickening. When she eventually pulls back, breathless, she stands up. He exhales and looks away.

“Give me a sec.” He mutters. 

“Oh my god…did George wake up?” Her eyes widen.

“Just…give me a second. Please.” He repeats himself. She bites back a laugh and turns around, covering her face as he gets up. He places a hand on her waist, guiding her gently back toward the bedroom.

They return to their separate beds. But before she lays down, Y/N reaches out across the space between them. Rafe smiles and takes her hand, threading his fingers through hers.

They fall asleep like that, connected, quiet and just a little closer than before.

The sun rises over the villa, casting a warm glow through the bedroom windows as the lights flicker on. Groans echo from the beds as the islanders slowly begin to stir. Maddy is curled into Kelce’s chest, shielding her eyes from the brightness while he pulls her in tighter. Across the room, Pope and Cleo untangle from their cuddle, stretching and sharing an awkward smile. And Sarah sits up in her sports bra, her hair slightly messy but her grin intact.

“Good morning, islanders!” She chirps, scanning the room.

Her eyes catch on Y/N and Rafe, lying on separate beds but facing each other, sleepy smiles on their faces, fingers still loosely intertwined between the space separating them. She smiles but doesn't say anything. Not yet.

“We should probably move. My arm’s cramping.” Y/N mutters, wincing as she pulls her hand back.

“Yeah, same. But worth it.” Rafe chuckles, sitting up and rolling his shoulder.

Y/N stretches with a small smile. Maddy, who caught sight of their subtle hand-hold, raises a brow.

“Did you two seriously sleep like that?” She asks, smirking.

“Like what?” Y/N replies, feigning innocence.

“Oh, you know…holding hands.” Maddy teases. Y/N sighs, grinning as she tilts her head toward Rafe. 

“Well…Rafe insisted.”

“Wow, throwing me under the bus already?” He scoffs, amused. The room fills with chuckles.

“That’s actually so cute.” Cleo adds from across the room. Y/N turns to the other side of her bed where Ryan sits against the headboard, sipping from a water bottle.

“Did I kick you last night? I feel like I might have. On accident! I kick in my sleep.” She asks, to lighten the mood between them. Ryan lowers the bottle and smiles. 

“Yeah, my shin is practically shattered.” He jokes.

“Wait, really?” She asks, eyes widening.

“No, no. I don’t think your leg even made it past the pillow wall.” He nods toward the barrier they’d built.

“Right.” She says, a bit embarrassed but smiling.

The villa starts to come alive as the islanders head off to begin their day. The boys split up between working out and breakfast duty, while the girls gather in the makeup room, getting ready. Y/N buttons her denim shorts in front of the mirror, eyes on her reflection.

“So…me and Rafe talked last night.” She says, instantly catching the girls’ attention.

“Wait. When?” Sarah asks, eyebrows raised. Y/N turns from the mirror and heads to her seat. 

“After everyone fell asleep. He asked if we could talk and we ended up at the staircase.”

“The staircase?” Cleo repeats, skeptical.

“Yeah. It was actually...really sweet.”

“The staircase?” Maddy says again, incredulous and Y/N laughs under her breath. 

“Okay, yes, the staircase. But hear me out, he sat me on his lap, held me, kissed me…it was really sweet.”

“I’m gonna throw up.” Alyssa says, playfully gagging. Y/N smiles, but It doesn't reach her eyes.

“What did you guys talk about?” Sarah asks, shaking her head but clearly invested.

“Well, everything. The recoupling. Me and Ryan…” Y/N trails off.

“And?” Maddy presses.

“I told him I never meant to hurt him. That what I feel for him is real. But also that this whole experience is meant for getting to know other people, building connections and figuring things out.” She pauses. “He said he likes me. And I told him I like him too. But he also said he doesn’t like sharing. Which...I know might sound possessive but honestly? I found it kinda cute.”

“Aww.” Maddy coos.

“That’s…weird.” Kiara says flatly, applying mascara.

“What’s your problem, Kie?” Cleo shoots back, clearly frustrated. “You left in the middle of our talk last night. You don’t want to hear Y/N’s side. Why?”

“I heard her side. I just don’t agree with moving on with someone like him, after everything he’s done. To her and his ex.” Kiara says firmly. “He’s going to hurt you. It’s not an if. It’s a when.”

“He’s not going to hurt me.” Y/N replies, voice steady.

“How can you be so sure?” Kiara challenges.

“How can you?” Y/N snaps back, sharper than anyone expects. The room falls into stunned silence. She sighs, softer now. 

“Look, I know you’re trying to be a good friend. I get it. And I appreciate it, really.” She places a hand on her chest. “But me and Rafe…we have something. We went through it, yeah, but we’ve come out stronger. I’m not asking you to love him. I’m not even asking you to support us. I’m just asking you not to be mad at me for how I feel.”

Kiara takes a breath, her expression softening.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m worried. But…if he’s what makes you happy, I can’t stop you. Just promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t dive back in. Make him earn your trust.”

“I am.” Y/N nods. “I will.”

The girls head downstairs, most of them drifting toward the pool for a chill day. Y/N veers into the kitchen, Maddy trailing behind her as she starts pulling ingredients onto the counter.

“What’s on the menu, chef?” Maddy teases, leaning against the island. Y/N grins. 

“I’m making a cake for Rafe. Kind of an ‘I’m sorry, I like you and this is my specialty’ type of thing.” She explains making Maddy laugh. 

“Love that. Need a sous-chef?”

“Definitely.” Y/N nods as she grabs a mixing bowl. 

Maddy joins her at the counter, helping measure, asking questions about each ingredient as they go in the bowl. There’s a comfortable rhythm between them, until Y/N slides the cake into the oven.

“So…” Maddy starts, wiping her hands on a towel, “I wanna be real with you for a second. I love you, I respect you, I really value our friendship and I don’t want any weirdness between us.”

“Okay…” Y/N frowns slightly, hopping up onto the counter.

“I was kinda hurt that you didn’t tell me about you and Rafe.” Maddy admits. “Like, I know you didn’t owe me anything, but I thought we were tight. It just felt like…I don’t know, I was being left out.”

Y/N’s face softens. 

“Oh, Maddy. I wanted to tell you. I really did. I was just scared you’d react like Kiara did. Or worse, that all the girls would.”

“I get that. But I’d never judge you, Y/N. Kiara might. Alyssa? For sure. But me?” Maddy shakes her head. “Never.”

Y/N slides off the counter and wraps her arms around her.

“I’m so, so sorry.” She apologises as Maddy hugs her back tightly. 

“It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t say anything. Just…don’t shut me out next time, yeah? Whatever it is, you can always come to me.”

Y/N smiles and squeezes her tighter, both girls giggling quietly into the hug.

By the time the cake is out of the oven and cooled, Y/N is fully focused, carefully smoothing buttercream around the sides. JJ and Pope wander into the kitchen, finding her hunched over in deep concentration.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” JJ grins, dropping onto one of the stools.

“Don’t even think about it.” Maddy warns, holding up a cake pop she made from the leftover scraps. She nods toward Y/N, who’s still laser-focused, tongue slightly sticking out as she perfects the edges. “It’s for Rafe.”

“Maddy.” Y/N says sharply without looking up.

“Relax.” Maddy laughs. “Also? It’s literally perfect. I don’t even know why you’re adding another layer.”

“It needs to be smoother.” Y/N mutters.

“She’s a perfectionist.” Pope says, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“Damn right I am.” Y/N steps back to assess her work, finally satisfied. She sets down the piping bag and picks up a bowl of sliced strawberries, arranging them carefully into a heart on top. When she finishes, she gestures for Maddy to look.

“Oh my god, that’s adorable!” Maddy swoons, clutching her chest. JJ and Pope lean over for a better look, both nodding in approval.

“Want us to call him over?” Pope offers 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Y/N nods.

Pope heads to the couch under the terrace, where Rafe’s lounging with Kelce and John B. 

“Yo, Rafe, come with me for a sec?”

Rafe grabs his water bottle and follows. When he spots Y/N in the kitchen, he immediately perks up and heads toward her, a smile already forming.

“Hey.” He says, approaching the counter.

“Hey.” Y/N replies, wiping her hands on her jean shorts, flour dusted across her stomach and strawberry juice staining her fingertips.

“Ta-da!” She says, revealing the cake with a shy grin. Rafe looks it over, surprised. 

“What’s this?” He asks.

“A cake, bro.” JJ says around a mouthful of the leftover strawberries. Rafe rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, no kidding, dumbass.” He turns back to Y/N. “I mean…why?”

“To say I’m sorry.” She says softly. “And to let you know I meant everything I said about us last night.”

Rafe rounds the counter, his hands settling gently on her waist.

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to.” She replies, placing her hands on his chest. He smiles, then leans in, kissing her sweetly. His hands rise to cradle her face, pulling her closer as everything else fades into the background.

“Okay, okay, you two can kiss later.” JJ interrupts with a grin. “Can we eat the cake now?”

Y/N pulls back, giggling, as Rafe gestures toward the cake.

“Yeah, babe, slice it up.”

She starts cutting neat pieces while Maddy helps plate them, then heads off to let the rest of the islanders know. 

“Y/N, I swear, you’ve gotta be a witch or something.” JJ groans, cutting himself off with an exaggerated moan as he shovels a second spoonful of cake into his mouth. Y/N laughs, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze in thanks.

Rafe grabs a slice for himself and trails after her toward the now-empty daybed, abandoned as the others crowd into the kitchen.

“Alright.” Y/N says, sitting cross-legged beside him and setting her plate down. “Try it and give me your honest opinion.”

Rafe digs in without hesitation. His eyes widen as he moans dramatically.

“Mm, fuck. That’s amazing.” He looks at her. “What is this?”

“Chocolate cake with cream cheese and strawberry filling, chocolate buttercream and strawberries on top.” She grins, while explaining.

“That combo is fire.” He says, already going in for another bite.

“It’s one of the top sellers at my shop.” She admits proudly, finally picking up her own plate.

“I fully get the hype. I love it.” He leans in, lips puckered expectantly. She laughs and gives him a quick kiss, both of their mouths smudged with chocolate.

“Oops.” She mutters, reaching to wipe his lips. He grabs her hand gently, shakes his head and licks his own lips instead. Then, with deliberate slowness, he wipes a smudge from the corner of her mouth and licks the tip of his thumb, eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N freezes for a beat, pulse quickening. She clears her throat and dives back into her cake, trying to cool the rising tension.

Before anything else can happen, a loud ping echoes through the villa. Abigail picks up her phone from the counter, eyes wide.

“I got a text!” She announces.

“Oh, god. Now what?” Rafe groans, already bracing himself.

“Islanders, it’s time to get each other’s hearts racing in tonight’s ‘Hearts on Fire’ challenge. #heartthrobs #showwhatyougot.” Abigail reads aloud.

Squeals erupt from the girls and the guys whoop in excitement. Y/N stares at Rafe in disbelief, a slow smile spreading across her face. He leans back on the daybed, smirking.

“I’m gonna go join the girls.” Y/N says quickly, pecking his lips before darting off. She throws herself into Maddy’s arms, the two of them hugging and bouncing excitedly as the rest of the girls pile in.

Confessional - Maddy “This is gonna get hot. And very, very messy.” She says, eyes locked on the camera with a knowing smile.

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @rafecameronsfavourite @rafesbuzzcutseason @lolharrystylesissexy @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @angielvsnick @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @nemesyaaa @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @oconnrs @cornliastreett @pvyden @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @rafecameronxxx @totalswag @xoxosblogsblog @julesbog @st8rkey @lewispool @silkylovey @heartlesslies @akobx @vdotcom @runawayrafetrain @stvrkeysgal @heartzshiftamy @xilatrxvmp @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @maybankslover @cameronsbabydoll @veesgrapejuice

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Golden [B. R.]

Bob Reynolds (Sentry) x fem!reader

wc: 3k

summary: Bob loves you, but he'd never dare say it. Unfortunately, all these repressed feelings fuel Sentry, who decides to do something once and for all.

masterlist part 2 part 3

The house was silent, broken only by the soft murmur of music coming from the cell phone by the sink. A slow, nostalgic piano floated between the shelves as if trying not to disturb anyone. You were barefoot, already in your pajamas—a faded thigh-length T-shirt and athletic shorts—with your hair tied haphazardly and a wooden spoon in your hand. You were making yourself something simple for dinner, not really hungry, as if it were a requirement your body had to fulfill.

Outside, the night hung heavy on the windows, thick and starless. Even though it was cold, your thick socks helped you bear it.

After a while, you had company in the kitchen. You didn't see the person, of course, but you could strangely feel their presence as if the entire room had been impregnated with that essence. The music continued to play, but it no longer filled the space; now it seemed like a distant echo, unable to compete with the sudden density of the air.

Then you felt it: the faint creak of wood under their weight as they rested an arm on the bar, right next to you. They didn't say anything at first; they just stood there, too close, so motionless that for a second you thought you'd imagined it. The warmth emanating from their body contrasted with the cold outside, and the scent—clean, almost electric—confirmed that you weren't alone.

“Hey,” you heard close to your ear, barely above a whisper.

Their voice made you turn your head immediately. You recognized him instantly, of course you did. It was Bob. His body, his silhouette… but not his posture. He was more upright, as if he weighed less. More relaxed. And he was looking at you. Not shyly, not as if he were waiting for your permission, but as if he already knew he was welcome.

What disconcerted you most was the color of his eyes. They shone a liquid gold, soft but impossible to ignore, as if something very ancient and powerful had peeked out from beneath his skin. The proximity made you notice them immediately.

“Bob...” you said softly, unsure whether to ask or affirm. You still held the spoon tightly. The aroma of dinner still wafted through the air, but everything else had stopped. “What are you doing here?”

“I went out to get a glass of water and found you here. That's all.”

“Your… your hair,” you stammered, barely reaching out to stroke a strand of hair, “what did you do to it?”

It was blonde, but not that horrible fake yellow shade Valentina had dyed it a few months ago. This time, his hair looked like it had been kissed by the sun, a color so golden it resembled one of those cherubs portrayed in old paintings. You could also swear it looked a few inches longer than you remembered.

“Don’t you like it?” he exclaimed. The question didn’t sound uncertain, as it should have, but rather amused. “I think it suits me.”

“Yes, you look… you look great, but why did you do it?”

He didn't respond immediately. His attention shifted to what you were cooking, with an almost unusual interest. He leaned a little closer over the counter, just enough to better observe the contents of the pot without invading your space too much... although you felt the warmth of his proximity extending like an invisible line between the two of you.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, as if the question were more intimate than it should be.

“Nothing, just… something quick for dinner,” you replied, not quite looking at him. You tried hard to sound casual, even though you knew your cheeks had heated a little without permission.

He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on your hands as you rummaged. He didn't talk like Bob. He didn't move like Bob. And yet, there he was, standing next to you, wearing those wrinkled plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt you'd seen on him before at the back of his closet; the cover of Radiohead's single, Creep, printed on black. Everything was recognizable, but not familiar.

Suddenly, his hand slowly reached out to take a pinch of what you'd left on the cutting board and brought it to his mouth, still looking at you. He did so with disconcerting ease, as if you always shared these kinds of moments.

“Smells good,” he murmured, and for a second, the way he said it didn’t seem to refer to food.

You looked at him, still trying to understand what part of him that was. Because if that was Bob… why did he make you feel like you were a fixed point in his orbit?

“Does your head hurt?” you asked, still unsure. Your voice sounded different, as if it didn't quite come from you.

"No"

"Are you okay?"

A giggle escaped his lips.

“I am,” he assured you. Prompted by your inquisitive eyes, he added, “Don’t worry. You know me, you’ve seen me before.”

The way he spoke to you made you believe he wasn't your friend you were chatting with. He knew you, yes, but he was behaving very differently than usual. The realization hit you suddenly.

“Sentry?”

The name left your lips like a crack in the air. And although he didn't flinch or look away, you saw that faint flicker of acceptance in his eyes. As if you'd finally said what he'd been waiting for since he'd entered the room.

“I was hoping you’d notice sooner,” he said calmly, though not reproachfully.

He didn't sound proud. He didn't sound embarrassed. Just… confident. A confidence that Bob didn't know existed, but was natural to him.

“You weren’t supposed to come out,” you murmured, barely audible, as if naming the abnormality could reverse it. “Bob still doesn’t know how to control you.”

He shrugged with an almost elegant fluidity.

“I don’t need him to control me,” she replied immediately. “I’m not dangerous. In fact, it turns out I'm everything he wants to be."

You remained silent for a second, watching him intently. You didn't know if it was wise to call someone else, walk away, or try to figure out what had brought him to light.

“Don’t fear me,” he continued, as if he had read the doubt in your eyes. “I would never hurt you.”

“Why are you here?” you mumbled. Your back was to the counter, and he was standing in front of you, watching you. “Is Bob okay?”

“Of course,” he smiled at you. His gaze made you feel nervous. “It’s just… he was daydreaming about you. So I thought I’d intervene.”

You froze. When you finally managed to stammer out a response, you asked him to explain what he was talking about.

“I just want to see you up close. He’s watching you the whole time like he’s afraid of breaking you.”

The phrase—and the way he said it—confused you. Why would he have had to show up to get a close look at you? What did that even mean?

Why did it have to be him and not Bob?

“You’re his constant thought, did you know that?” he murmured calmly. “For better or for worse.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He always worries about you. He wants to be good for you, to improve, to leave behind those weaknesses that torment him. But everything he keeps quiet when he sees you walk by, when you laugh near him, when you touch him… he throws it all at me.”

His voice didn't rise in pitch. It wasn't demanding. It didn't crack. But there was an undercurrent, a weariness so deep it reached your chest.

“And honestly, I feel like it kills me a little more every day.

“I can’t understand you,” you faltered. “Do you mean that he-you are… in love with me?”

A stifled laugh was heard in his throat.

“Obsessed, that's the term I'd give it. But yes, let's say so.”

Sentry didn't look at you like someone expecting a reaction. He didn't seem to be looking for shock value. He was just... saying it. As if saying it out loud would take a weight off his shoulders.

You feared you were delirious. The moment was so sudden and unexpected that it was the only explanation that made sense to you.

“I just thought it was time to let you know,” Sentry continued. “Because he won’t. At least not anytime soon.”

He took a step closer, slow, careful, but not hesitant. His movements were confident, as if he wasn't afraid of rejection, but of breaking something delicate.

His fingers brushed the edge of the bar, right where you'd placed the spoon seconds before. He didn't pick it up. He just rested his fingertips there, as if he needed to anchor himself to something real.

Then he reached out with his other hand toward you, very slowly, and with the backs of his fingers, he barely caressed your cheek. It wasn't an invasive caress. It was… careful. Too careful, as if he feared that you, too, were part of the same fracture he was carrying.

His touch was warm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice lower. More intimate. “You’re sweet. Attentive. I understand why he’s going crazy for you.”

And you wanted to say something, anything. But his presence weighed more than your thoughts. You didn't know if it was the tone or the content of his words, but something inside you tensed.

You didn't back down. You didn't touch him either. But your gaze dropped to his hand, still suspended in the air, as if you'd suddenly realized the moment had crossed an invisible line.

He noticed it. Of course he noticed it.

“But you’re not ready,” he said, without annoyance.

He didn't sound disappointed, or impatient. He said it as a logical conclusion. An observation. He slowly withdrew his hand, but didn't move away. He just looked down, as if the gesture of touching you had been more for him than for you.

You were in shock, trying to understand what was happening and waiting for his next move.

“I’m not asking you for anything,” he added after a moment. “I didn’t even come looking for anything. I just needed you to see me. To know that I exist beyond fear.”

Your throat closed a little, and your voice barely held as you replied:

“I… don’t know what to tell you.”

Sentry nodded, once, without drama. His golden eyes softened slightly, though the glow remained, pulsing, like a subtle warning that this form of him wasn't human. Not quite.

“You don’t need to say anything. Not now.” For a second, he was silent. “Sometimes Bob stares at the door for hours, wondering if you’ll ever show up.”

The phrase disarmed you more than you expected. You knew him. Not in words, but in actions. In the way Bob avoided eye contact when you greeted him. In the way he seemed to go silent when you sat down near him. In the way he always had something in his hands to pretend he was busy.

Sentry still watched you, patient. Almost serene.

“And all this stuff you’re saying… Does he feel it? Don’t you?”

“Both,” he explained softly. “But if you’re wondering who wants you more, then it would be me.”

You swallowed, looking at him with some surprise. You hadn't asked that, but he'd thought it prudent to mention it. He could have told you he cared or sought your closeness, but no. He said he wanted you.

“Is that why you came looking for me?”

Your voice was a whisper, gently caressing his ears. You no longer seemed scared, but curious, and that stirred something else in the God who watched you intently.

Sentry didn't answer immediately. He lowered his gaze for a moment, as if your question was too intimate even for him. And when he came back from his thoughts, his eyes had not lost their golden glow, but his expression had softened.

“I only came because… I couldn’t stay without doing it.”

His fingers closed in a slight gesture, as if he had wanted to touch you again and held back at the last second.

“Do you know what it feels like to carry something inside that doesn’t quite belong to you?” he asked, not looking at you directly. “A memory. A longing. An image repeated over and over again. And you didn’t create it, you didn’t dream it, but you feel it. It pulls you in. It transforms you.”

You looked at him silently, recognizing in his words not only the intensity of his existence, but the fragility behind it. As if he couldn't sustain himself for long away from Bob's shadow.

“You’re in him,” he continued. “In all his days. In every damn attempt to ignore you. In every night he forces himself not to knock on your room. In all those moments when he has to hold back as if your gaze doesn’t completely disarm him.”

The intensity of his voice didn't rise, but it became thicker. More tangible.

“I don't have their filters,” he admitted, “nor their fears. And if I'm here, it's because Bob wanted it so badly… that I didn't know how to stay silent anymore.”

It wasn't a confession, not quite. It was more like an inevitable outburst. And he was still there, so close, it was hard to think.

“I don’t know if this is real… or if I’m just feeling what you need me to feel.”

“It's very real”

His silence wasn't empty. It was the suppressed sound of something that wanted to explode but didn't dare. The gold in his eyes flickered like a flame about to go out... or burn out completely.

You felt it. Not for what he did, but for what he didn't do.

The way his eyes dropped to your mouth a second longer than necessary. The slight tremble in his breath as he stared at you without blinking. The way his body tilted, barely perceptible, as if the space between you was an obstacle eating him away from the inside.

He didn't touch you. He didn't say anything. But the desire was there, suspended between you both, as clear as the heat between two bodies that aren't touching.

And you, for the first time, didn't back down.

Your lips parted, not in invitation, but in surprise. There was something reverent about him. As if he were approaching you not as a man, not even as a god, but as an echo. Like someone who had been sensing you for too long in another skin, in another mind, in another contained love.

He knew it then. What he saw in your eyes. Not fear, not rejection. Just the certainty that if he did it, something would change forever. In you. In Bob.

Sentry didn't move anymore.

His lips curved into a small, sad smile. One of those that doesn't seek comfort, but acceptance.

“Now that you know… Will you wait for him? Until he’s ready?”

You nodded, out of inertia. The proximity made you feel dizzy, as if his energy were consuming you entirely, and the only thing left in you was that desire for him to finish what he started.

His beauty was nothing like Bob's. He was shy, discreet, cautious in his gestures. Sentry forced you to look at him. Not by imposition, but by nature. Because you couldn't help it. There was something about him that overwhelmed your senses, something that seemed made of light and gravity, and all of it pushed you to the edge of something you couldn't name.

There was no touch. No unnecessary words. Just that suspended instant in which your whole body understood that he could have touched you, and you would have allowed it. Not because he demanded it, but because there was something in you that had already given in without you realizing it.

You didn't know if it was the way he looked at you or how he seemed to be contained within himself, as if the universe were splitting open in his chest, but for a moment you stopped thinking.

You contemplated him as one contemplates something sacred. Not as one desires, but as one recognizes.

And that's where you truly felt it: divinity in its purest form. Not that of miracles or light, but that of the abyss. Of contained fire.

“I’ll go,” he exhaled. He allowed himself to caress your face one last time. “I don’t want Bob to lose his temper. I just… wanted you to know how much you mean. To both of us.”

He took a step back, and you instantly missed his warmth. You found a certain acceptance in his eyes, as if he knew his time had come to an end. It felt as if that version of himself couldn't last much longer in your presence without fading away.

“Can I ask you something?”

"Yeah?"

“Don’t hate him if he doesn’t remember tomorrow,” he said softly. You knew he was referring to Bob. “It’s not that he doesn’t want to do it. It’s that he can’t handle it.”

And with that last truth, he left.

There were no lights, no sounds. Only the faint emptiness left behind by an intense presence as it retreats. And you, standing in the kitchen, dinner cooling on the stove and your heart beating too close to your throat, realized that something inside you had just changed, too.

You didn't know if everything would be back to normal the next day.

But you knew, with absolute certainty, that you hadn't imagined it.

Although a part of you—the most rational, the most scared—would like to believe that it had all been a dream, a delusion, a fantasy brought on by tiredness or your own badly buried feelings.

Because in the end… was it Sentry who came to you?

Or Bob, in a form that even he doesn't understand?

You didn't know. And you probably never would. But the echo of his voice, the warmth of his presence, the weight of that gaze... that was real.

You couldn't tell anyone. Not because they wouldn't believe you, but because there was no way to explain it without breaking them, without exposing them to criticism. And because, at the same time, you were afraid it might break you a little too.

It had to become a secret. There was no other alternative.

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