potter-head-phanatic

[potter-head-phanatic]

Until I Found You

***Potential spoilers of The Rookie***

Pairing: John Nolan x Fem Reader

Sneak Peek: After his breakup with Bailey, John is convinced he will never fall in love again…that is until he found you. (This is taking place pre TO Nolan) Reader owns a Café (food truck).

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2851

Warnings: Reader has kind of spooky vibes, no use of y/n, Implied age gap, mention of food and eating (no explicit details), brief mention of crime (no explicit details), mention of past relationships, mention of unhealthy relationships, mention of getting ready for a date (details are feminine leaning – shaving, makeup, nails, hairstyling), developing strong feelings quickly, one teeny tiny kiss.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

After his breakup with Bailey, John was convinced he wouldn’t find love again. How would it be fair for him to have had love with Sarah, Lucy, Jessica, Grace, Bailey and for him to expect it again. His love with each of those women differed from one another, but they all had played a very important role in his life. For the last few months John had really just been going through the motions; sleep, work, eat, repeat.

Today had been a particularly slow day on the job for John, very unusual for the LAPD. He had been riding alone today which was honestly making the day drag on even more so. He was counting down the minutes until lunch – at least then he would get to socialize with his fellow officers.

Two speeding tickets, one robbery and a stolen car later, it was finally time for lunch. Heading to their usual spot, John notices that there is a new food truck parked, black with orange script on the side spelling out “Hallowed Grounds” alongside little white painted bats. John’s eyes were drawn to this truck not because it is new, or that the line was at least fifteen people long, but because of the beautiful person running the window.

It was Lucy who had ultimately broken John out of the trance he was in.

“Hey, you okay? You were spaced out there for a second.” Lucy questioned.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay. What’s with the new truck?” John wanted to see how much Lucy knew without giving away the attraction he was feeling towards this stranger.

“Oh! It is all over social media, Hallowed Grounds, it is mostly coffee, but the pastries are to die for! I mean literally that is their slogan!” Lucy laughed.

“The line is pretty long, so it must be good. Should we check it out?”

“Sounds good to me!”

With that, John and Lucy made their way to the line. Lucy was talking John’s ear off about some new social media drama, but honestly John wasn’t listening, he was far too distracted by your beauty and the honey sweet tone of your voice. You had this way about you that was breathtaking, moving with grace and just so patient and kind to all the patrons who had been waiting in line. They were finally nearing the front of the line, and John had realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Hi there! What can I get for you?” You smiled at him.

“Hi, can I get a medium caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone?” Lucy ordered with no hesitation.

“Of course! And for you?” You looked expectantly at John.

“I um, can I just get a black coffee and, no that’s all.” John stuttered.

Lucy looked over at him confused as she paid, and they walked over to stand near the pickup window. John took note of you disappearing from the window and a young man taking your place.

“Okay, I know that we did not just stand in that long line just for you to order a black coffee. What is up with you?” Lucy questioned John. “OH MY GOD! You think she’s cute, don’t you?”

“Okay, hush! I’d rather not scare the girl off before I even get a chance to talk to her.”

“Okay sorry! I’m just happy for you. You’ve been sulking ever since you and Bailey broke things off.”

“I have not been sulking…okay maybe I have. But I really thought she was it for me.”

“John and Lucy?” You called.

They made their way up to the window to pick up their orders.

“Alright Lucy, a caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone, and for John a black coffee and a chocolate croissant.” I hope you guys have a wonderful day and stay safe!”

“Oh, I didn’t…” John started.

“Thank you so much, you have a wonderful day too!” Lucy cut John off and began to drag him away from the truck.

The two of them went to sit at a table with Tim, Aaron and Nyla for the rest of their lunch. They were all hoping it wouldn’t be cut short by a call coming in.

“Alright Nolan!” Aaron exclaimed as John sat down.

“What? What did I do?”

“The bag. The barista gave you her number!”

John turned the bag around and sure enough your name and phone number had been neatly printed along with a little heart. John looked at Tim, then Nyla and finally to Lucy. He hadn’t been expecting you to give him your number, especially not after he had made a complete fool of himself in front of you just moments before.

Just as Lucy was about to encourage him to text you, a call came ringing in over the radios. Everyone was quick to get up and head to their respective shops. John heard Tim and Lucy radio that they were responding, and that Nyla and Aaron were acting as backup. He figured they had it covered, and he would continue to patrol, but not before adding you into his contacts.

Three days.

It was three days before John had gathered the courage to text you. He hadn’t seen you either, since he’d worked through lunch one of the days, had a pretty big drug bust on the second day, and was assigned to the front desk on the third day. Today though, he had the day off and now was his time to text you and see if you would want to go on a date with him.

John: Hey, this is John. From the other day.

You: Hi! I was beginning to think that maybe I was too forward.

John: Oh, no, not at all! I’m sorry, things have just been really busy with work. I finally have a day off.

You: Okay, good! I’m sorry work has been keeping you busy. Hopefully you’ve been able to stay safe.

John: I have. Nothing too out of the ordinary this week. How have you been?

You: I’ve been good! I have been testing some new recipes and trying to figure out what to swap in for the fall season.

You: Speaking of which…would you like to be a taste tester for me? I could really use a customer’s perspective!

John: I would love to! By the way, that croissant was incredible. I was actually texting you to ask you to dinner.

You: Yeah, dinner and then we can go back to mine to try these desserts?

You: Wow that was also very forward…I’m not usually like this by the way!

John: No worries. I won’t read into it I promise. So tonight, can I pick you up at 7?

You: 7 is perfect, see you then John!

After confirming your plans with John, you kicked it into high gear. It was 10:07 a.m. and you had a lot to do before you’d be ready to go. You really needed to get your nails done, you needed to finish the 6 different pastries you’d been working on, and you’d really need to shower before you could get ready.

After doing some quick math in your head, you figured that you would have just enough time to get everything done provided you shower while some things were baking in the oven. With that, you place the pre-cut cookie dough into the freezer (these would be easy enough to pull out and bake later when you and John go back), you placed the muffins and two different loaves of bread in the oven. That just left the cake that you were actively frosting and the pie that was cooling. Once the cake was thoroughly iced, you threw the dishes in the dishwasher and headed towards the shower, not without checking your timer to make sure you’d have ample time.

You were sure to go through all the steps of what you’d consider a full shower, washing and conditioning your hair, washing your body with your best smelling body wash, and shaving essentially every inch of your body. You weren’t anticipating that anything would happen tonight, but you wanted to be prepared nonetheless and you’d make sure at the very least that you smelled good.

After drying off and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you made way for the kitchen just in time to pull out the muffins and the bread. You set them out on the cooling rack, turned the oven off and then you headed to your favorite nail salon. They were able to get you in right away seeing as it was 12:00 p.m. on a Thursday.

Your nail appointment ended at about 1:30 p.m., which gave you enough time to head over and check on your staff and the truck. Upon arrival you noticed there were a few police cruisers parked along the curb. You knew John was off today, but you still found yourself scanning the crowd for him.  

“He’s not here.” Your staff, Ezra, had called over to you.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You tried to hide your blush, embarrassed about getting caught looking for John. Ezra was the one who had encouraged you to give him your number in the first place, having seen how smitten you were with John when you’d met him the other day. Ezra and you had been friends for years, he could read you better than anyone.

“Mmhmm, sure thing. It was a different group this time around. What are you up to? Aren’t you supposed to be off testing new pastries?” Ezra questioned you.

“I was doing exactly that when John texted me and asked me out! I went and got my nails done and figured I would stop by and see how things were going before I went back home and got ready for my date.”

“OH MY GOD! See I told you that if you gave him your number, he’d ask you out. There were definite vibes the other day, he was so enamored by you that he forgot to look at the menu!” Ezra gushed.

“Okay, fine. You were right. I’m kind of nervous, he’s taking me to dinner, then we’re going back to my place so he can taste the new desserts and give me his opinions on them.”

“Girl, you are going to be fine! He seems nice and you are an amazing person, no reason to be nervous. Plus, what have you got to lose?” Ezra had always been your voice of reason in times of need.

“Okay, yeah. I should probably get going then so I can get ready.”

“Okay babe, have a great night! OH and you should wear the outfit you wore to our opening party, it screams you and its hot!”

“Oh, that was a good outfit, I don’t know where he’s taking me yet, but it should be dressy enough.”

You said your goodbyes to Ezra and made your way back home. It was nearing 3:30 p.m. and you knew you should probably start getting ready. You grabbed a glass of water and then got to styling your hair. You curled your hair and applied some natural looking makeup and went to get dressed. To pair with the faux leather skirt and starry mesh top, you slid on some black tights, comfy socks and your Doc Martens. Looking over at your alarm clock you see 6:45p.m. glowing red and you decide to switch to a smaller purse in the time you have left before your date…your usual everyday tote bag not exactly matching this outfit choice. You’d opted for a small leather handbag, with gold accents, it matched your outfit perfectly and was better suited for the occasion. As soon as you organized everything into the purse a knock sounded at the door. You took a deep breath then walked to answer it.

“Hi!” You greeted John as you opened the door.

“Wow, you look incredible.” John was awestruck, you had such a different style than the women he had previously dated, but he was really loving it. You were so confident in your own skin, and you just had this glow about you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome.”

“Shall we?” John gestured to his truck.

You nodded and the two of you walked around to the passenger side. John opened the door for you then offered his hand to assist you into the truck.

“Such a gentleman.”

John blushed at the compliment, he tried to shake it off as he started the truck and pulled out of your driveway. You made small talk on your way to the restaurant, which ended up being a very nice steakhouse.

John parked and looked over to you, he made note of the way you were inspecting the sign, and immediately panicked.

“I probably should have asked and made sure you weren’t a vegetarian!”

“I’m not! I love a good steak; my dad is a self-proclaimed grill master!” You laughed.

John laughed with you and let out a sigh of relief. He once again opened your door for you and reached to help you out of the truck. He was so different form the men you had dated before, so polite and caring. He listened to what you had to say and even asked you questions to learn more about you. It was so refreshing to be around someone like him. Truth is, you had dated some pretty terrible people in the past and that was the main reason you were single now. You’d decided to take a break from dating and focus on yourself and your career, which is how you’d gotten to the point of owning a very successful food truck. You had explained to John that your end goal is to have a brick-and-mortar location of Hallowed Grounds that was a café/bookstore. You wanted to create a cozy space for people to hangout while they enjoyed good food.

John just sat and smiled, he loved how you lit up when you spoke about it. Seeing you so passionate about something was honestly inspiring. He hadn’t expected the feelings for you to be so immediate, so strong, just crashing to the surface as the night went on. John could feel himself growing concerned about whether or not you were feeling as strongly for him as he was for you. The two of you had just clicked and it was so effortless.

What John didn’t know is you were currently battling the same demons. Was it really possible to be this comfortable with someone after such a short time?

Dinner had passed far too quickly for either of your likings, you were honestly just glad that you had already planned to continue this evening. You weren’t ready to say goodnight to John just yet. As John drove you back to your place, he took a risk by reaching for your hand to hold, you were quick to slide your hand into his and you couldn’t help but blush. John couldn’t believe how soft your hand was and it made him think about how rough his must be from his years as a contractor, he shook the thought away as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

You made it back to your place relatively quickly and John once again made sure to assist you on the passenger side, only this time instead of offering you his hand, he was a little bolder. He’d placed his hands on your waist and slowly helped you out of the truck. You stood there, chest to chest, your breath hitching from the proximity. Your gazes danced over one another’s face, shifting from eyes to lips back to eyes, silently asking for permission. When you slightly tilted your head, John understood and reached his right hand up to cup your jaw as he brought you in for a kiss. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever but ended far too soon. You wanted to exist in this moment infinitely.

You and John held hands once again as you staggered to the door. You made quick work of the lock and invited him in, guiding him to the kitchen.

“You ready to try some desserts?” You asked.

“Absolutely!” John replied.

You blushed, realizing the double entendre and moved to get all the desserts plated up. You explained to John that you’d need to throw the cookies in the oven, but they only took about 10 minutes to cook. He nodded and asked if you needed any help with anything, which you declined and encouraged him to relax.

John watched as you worked in the kitchen, this had been your element and it was like a well-choreographed dance, the way you moved. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, picturing the two of you like this, years down the road. He knew that you had only just met, but after tonight he couldn’t deny the connection. He realized he had been wrong when he said he would never fall in love again. That was true, until he met you.

[potter-head-phanatic]

Bradford's Princess

Tim Bradford x younger!fem!reader

total word count: 11.5k+ words | ongoing

Bradford Has a Princess

Tim Bradford is whipped for you, treats you with nothing but the best princess treatment, and when his fellow officers call him out on it, he realizes how he truly feels about you.

Bradford Has a Valentine's Day Princess

Leading up to Valentine's Day, you - Tim Bradford's princess - learn exactly what your relationship and Tim's treatment of you mean.

Tim Bradford's Princess

Being Tim's princess is the best position you've ever held, and the last one you'll ever want. Every little thing he does proves it, even if it means tearing himself apart.

A Princess Worth Saving

Tim misses a call from you in your time of need, and after he saves you, he promises never to leave his princess alone again.

< Main Navigation | < Tim Bradford Masterlist

All photo credits to respective owners (via: Pinterest)

[potter-head-phanatic]

REMUS LUPIN.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

photographer!remus x model!reader by @ellecdc

⁀➴༯ where you end up being remus's big break

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god. this was gorgeous. the way remus sees the world, the way he sees her, i feel like i’m intruding on something so so personal. and remus being so effortlessly poetic without even realizing it?? i’m in love. like damn rem! i was giggling and kicking my feet. it was perfect

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

remus x blacksister!reader by @ghostwritermia

⁀➴༯ with a haunted mind you look for solace in books, when you really needed it from your boyfriend, and he happily gave it to you

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh god, mia, this was so soft and comforting. remus is literally the sweetest, the way he just knows what she needs without asking?? i love how gentle and reassuring he is, especially when she starts doubting their relationship. “ours, not theirs” absolutely got me. and the little details—him kissing her dimples, her drawing on his scars while he reads?? i'm melting. this was so cozy and full of love! i identify as a melted puddle now

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

dad!remus x mom!reader by @lupinsweater

⁀➴༯ where they get woken up by their daughter

REVIEW ୨ৎ shay, i adore you and your writing so much omg! this one was especially so soft and warm, it felt like a perfect little snapshot of happiness. remus being the sweetest dad ever?? his little girl immediately seeking him out for comfort?? i’m melting. the way he holds her so gently and reassures her that she can always snuggle with him—ugh, my heart. and that last line?? “we’re so lucky”??? yeah, i’m crying. this was pure love in fic form! melted my heart, truly

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

simple loving by @kquil

⁀➴༯ just them appropriately loving on each other, chaste kisses on shoulders and wrists while sitting in positions that may not look innocent, but it doesn’t go farther them that

REVIEW ୨ৎ mum, this was so cute and playful omg. remus being all soft and doting?? feeding each other like that?? i’m kicking my feet. and then him just completely ignoring their friends’ reactions to keep being affectionate with reader?? obsessed. also lily shutting james down immediately at the end sent me! absolute perfection. i started reading as a human and finished as a puddle of pure goo

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

pirate!remus lupin x reader by @thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ remus getting protective over reader when another crew member flirts with her

REVIEW ୨ৎ pirate!remus omg. this is everything. the way he just casually threatens jack with going overboard?? and jack actually takes it seriously because he knows remus isn’t bluffing?? yes please. also the way remus checks in on reader afterward, making sure she’s okay, gently intertwining their fingers?? i’m swooning. absolute peak protective yet soft remus. i was smiling so hard my face is now permanently stuck like this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

remus x whimsical!reader by @/thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ lost in the woods... where they start talking about everything while "looking for the end of the woods" and then he starts venting because reader is so easy to talk to and so eager to listen to him, he actually feels safe with her, and when he is done he says how are we going to get out of here or something like that and reader is just "actually I know how to get out of here it's just you seemed to need a good listener rem". ps: while walking he realizes reader can make friends with literally all the creatures in the woods and finds her so fascinating

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so soft i’m actually melting. the way the animals are drawn to reader, how remus watches in quiet wonder, and then the slow showing of his thoughts?? it's so him. and then the relief when he realizes he’s actually being heard. i just wanna hug and hold him my baby! and that last part—"i'm glad i got 'lost' with you.” i'm unwell. this is peak emotional intimacy

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

pirate!remus x reader by @/thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ reader is completely mesmerized by the sea and the wondrous creatures below, just lost in her own world. Remus asks her to bring the ropes, but she doesn't hear him. So, naturally, he comes over to see what’s taking so long. but instead of getting annoyed, he sits down next to her, totally enchanted by her talking about the creatures. he's sitting there, utterly whipped, your honour. forget the ropes—this man is listening, hanging on every word she says, because how could he not?

REVIEW ୨ৎ i'm actually losing my mind over this. the romantic tension in this is insane—the way remus watches reader instead of the water, the gentle, almost hesitant touches, the soft confessions that mean so much more than they let on. “forget the ropes.” helloo??? that’s the kind of line that makes a person weak. i have been reduced to nothing but a lovesick sigh

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

steady by @/thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ five times remus takes care of you + one time you return the favor

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this wrecked me in the gentlest way possible. it’s so remus, the way he just knows what you need without you having to ask. he doesn’t scold, doesn’t get frustrated, just helps, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. the forehead kiss?? devastating. i am unwell. this fic personally tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

doctor!remus x reader by @moonstruckme

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so soft and so remus-coded i’m actually melting. the way he’s gentle but also so firm in his care??? the way he kisses your head and your hand like it’s second nature?? “we’ll see.” like he’s already decided he’s going to fix it because of course he is, he always does. my heart has officially been hijacked, and I am not pressing charges

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

self deprecating thoughts by @/moonstruckme

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so painfully tender i’m actually aching. the way remus adores you so effortlessly, like every compliment is just fact to him. the way he won’t let you brush it off this time, won’t let you be cruel to yourself. “it hurts to hear you being so cruel to someone i care about.” like it physically pains him to hear you talk like that. and the end??? “someday, he’ll get you to believe it.” like it’s not even a question. of course he will. because loving you means making sure you see it too. i’m fully wrecked

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

gently wiping tears from the other's face by @wintrsoul

⁀➴༯ in which remus comforted you after a small meltdown over an onion

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was so soft and so domestic i could cry. the way remus instantly clocked what was going on and still asked if you were okay?? i am unwell. the image of him glaring at the onion like it personally wronged you?? that man is gone for you, and i’m so here for it. my brain is just white noise and happy squealing now

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

buried in a book by @lqveharrington

⁀➴༯ while you were part of the biggest friend group in hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was so sweet and so soft i feel like i just wrapped myself in the warmest blanket. the way remus never makes you feel like a burden, never gets frustrated with you, and always notices when something’s wrong?? he’s so patient and so in love i can’t stand it. and the ending??? him calling your voice beautiful, kissing you in honeydukes, telling you he loves you just because??? i am on the floor. this was such a comforting, warm, and utterly romantic fic, i need to lie down

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

remus x sensitive!reader by @inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ sensitive!reader who misheard him talking with james about something/someone and mistakes it as them talking bad about them. reader avoiding remmy for days, avoiding his touch and barely talking to him until he has enough and confronts reader who just breaks down into tears instantly

REVIEW ୨ৎ why would you hurt me like this??? the pain of overhearing something like that, the way she immediately assumes the worst and tries to brace herself for a breakup—oh my god, my heart ached for her. and remus??? remus being so gentle and panicked, immediately trying to fix it, holding her face and reassuring her over and over until she believes him??? i could cry. and him calling james just to prove it to her, just to make sure she knows how much he loves her??? this is perfect angst with the sweetest comfort. i love this so much, my heart is full

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

bubbly!reader by @/inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ an s/o who's very bubbly and sweet to everyone (very physically affectionate towards her friends, calls everyone pet names, and just generally tries to make the people around her happy) and someone says she's just too much and that her friends don't want her constantly touching them or something like that so now she's sort of withdrawn from her friends and remus and he notices of course and confronts her

REVIEW ୨ৎ god i felt this in my bones. that gut-wrenching moment when someone casually points out something so innocent about you—something that’s just you—and suddenly it’s like your entire world shifts. like, have i been annoying this whole time? do they secretly hate when i touch them? and the way you tried to hold back?? how you clenched your fist instead of reaching for remus, like touching him was something you suddenly had to stop doing? and remus??? the absolute love of your life??? how immediately he noticed and immediately reassured you? and when you pulled away from his touch??? he felt awful. because to him, your touch isn’t just something he tolerates—it’s something he needs. and they don’t just tolerate it—they seek it out. i am weeping this hurt so good

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

it's nice to have a friend by @crescenthistory

⁀➴༯ remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it

REVIEW ୨ৎ this fic has me in a chokehold. like, i have been dragged through every possible emotion—kicking, screaming, sobbing, giggling, everything. how do you even write 14k words of this level of perfection?? i genuinely had to pause multiple times just to collect myself. remus’ internal struggle? gut-wrenching. the tenderness? life-ruining. i am personally recommending this to everyone i know because if i had to feel all this, so do they. my heart has been stolen, shattered, rebuilt, and i will never be normal again

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmain blog ￫ @iamgonnagetyouback

[potter-head-phanatic]

TWO OF A KIND

a parent trap inspired au

Summary: Who would have thought that sending your son to a summer camp would lead to an unexpected reunion with someone you had sworn you don’t want to see anymore?

Pairings: James Potter x reader

chapters:

chapter i

chapter ii

chapter iii

chapter iv

chapter v

chapter vi

chapter vii

chapter viii

chapter ix

chapter x

in case u want to be tagged

[potter-head-phanatic]

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞

word count: 6.5k

summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created. 

How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying? 

cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.

a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx 

···

You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your finger around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered. 

Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.

In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.

“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”

“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”

James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”

You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”

James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment. 

You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most. 

The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late. 

You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars. 

Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat. 

“Hi, how are you feeling?”

Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog. 

“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”

Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.

You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door. 

“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”

“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out. 

“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”

“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”

Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train. 

“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes. 

She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”

You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.

“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”

“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.” 

You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly. 

“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”

“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previous vacated seat. “Just remember to—”

“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”

You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.

The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.

You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread. 

Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.

“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”

“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.

“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply  wouldn’t do.”

Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.

“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her. 

Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”

Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”

“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”

“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform. 

“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”

You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.

—

Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.

You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible. 

You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door. 

“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.

“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes. 

Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”

“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.

He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losting battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.

A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack. 

“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”

You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”

He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”

“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”

“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”

A beat. 

“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”

He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.

“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”

You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”

Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake. 

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.” 

“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, pointedly closing the door behind you. 

Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she pointedly tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. 

—

You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident. 

You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought. 

“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there, strange.”

“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”

“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”

You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.

“Are you cold?”

“What? No. I’m fine.”

“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”

“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”

Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything. 

“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”

“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”

He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.” 

And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes. 

“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”

“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”

You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.” 

“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”

“James!”

“No, James,” You met him head on, storm in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”

“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”

“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room. 

At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.

“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.

“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”

“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”

“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late. 

With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down. 

“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”

“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperately finding the right words to go, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”

“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at last apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment at the situation. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily. 

The door to your room opened, your brain too shaken up and confused, you opened your mouth to speak but a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.

“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself. 

Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,” 

“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”

“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.

“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”

“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him. 

“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”

“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more. 

“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”

“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”

Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look. 

“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.” 

“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”

Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances. 

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”

You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks. 

“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”

“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”

“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”

James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.” 

“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”

“I’m sorry.”

“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.” 

“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”

“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”

“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”

“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”

You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times. 

“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.

You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother. 

Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away. 

He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”

And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little. 

In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said: 

Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity.  Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier. 

[potter-head-phanatic]

hiiii please could i request plus size shy reader being asked out on a date and getting anxious it’s a joke (it’s not). i would LOVE this with steve or james but i love everyone you write for so i don’t mind if you’d rather choose another character! have a lovely day/night! 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: implied insecurity around size

Steve Harrington x shy!plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You can feel sweat on the insides of your thighs. Every step you take chafes. Between the heat and your nerves you think you probably look about as shiny as a glazed donut, and you worry that if you lift a hand in front of your face you’ll find it shaking. 

You don’t actually know what you’re doing here. 

When Steve asked you to meet him at the fair, your yes was automatic. He was all brown eyes and gentle features, the apple of his throat bobbing at the tail end of the question, and you hadn’t known any quicker way to get away from all that than simply agreeing and ducking into the kitchen to grab an imaginary order. Whether you actually wanted to go out with him was irrelevant, though of course you did. You still do, you think. 

But later, you’d remembered who he was. Not just Steve, who comes into your work and downs chocolate milkshakes like he’s in some sort of competition while tossing you sugary smiles that make it impossible for you to remember anyone’s orders, but Steve Harrington. King of the gum-popping populars when you’d all been in high school, who publicly degraded Nancy Wheeler just for breaking up with him and who has since been rumored to date a rotation of Hawkin’s most model-esque girls. He would know how to flirt with a girl like you. Might do it just for a laugh. Might even ask you on a phony date simply to humiliate you when you thought it was real. 

And now you’re here, looking sweat-glazed and lost in the middle of the crowd, feeling like a complete fucking loser. Well done, King Steve. 

“Hey!” 

You’re not sure if it’s worse to stay, and slowly reconcile with the fact that you’ve been duped, or leave and have to face him at work the next time he comes in. Quitting your job is starting to sound like a tempting option. 

“Hey!” 

You nearly jump out of your skin when a sure hand lands on your shoulder, and a second later Steve is rounding you with that half-quirked smile of his. His face is cast pink by the neon light of the sign you’re standing in front of. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I was gonna wait at the front, but the line for tickets was getting long so I figured I’d better get in there and grab ours.” He holds up a hand, fanning the two tickets out. 

“Oh.” The word comes out of you on a breath. Steve leans in to hear you better, not a flicker of pique in his expression for your soft voice in this loud atmosphere. “That’s smart.” 

His eyes crinkle as though you’ve said something funny, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he gives a one armed shrug. You’d forgotten it was there and yet you miss it instantly. “Well, thanks. Some people say I can be that, every now and then.” 

You feel your eyes go wide. “Oh, no, sorry, of course you’re smart,” you say in a rush. “I didn’t mean to sound surprised, I was just…” 

“I get it.” The pink light softens the teasing in Steve’s look into something even sweeter. You feel your face warm. “Do you wanna grab a funnel cake or something?” 

“Why…” You’re suddenly conscious again of your sweaty thighs, the way your sundress cuts into your middle and leaves the skin of your wide shoulders on display. “Why would I want that?” 

Steve looks confused, his smile lingering but faint. “I dunno, do you? I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since lunch. We could have whatever, though, if you’ve got something against funnel cake.” 

You blink, the flame of apprehension that had flared in your chest sputtering back down to an ember. “No, sorry,” you say, befuddled once again. What does he want with you? When and where will the other shoe drop? “I like funnel cake.” 

Steve pays for the both of you and you’re too dazed to stop him, still reeling from the hand he placed on your back to guide you through the crowd and seems in no hurry to remove. It rests just above the waistline of your dress, gentle but definitively there, radiating warmth through the fabric. When he does remove it, it’s to sit down beside you at the picnic table so you can eat, one form of contact replaced by another as his jeans press into your bare leg and you try not to spiral out. 

“These things are a disaster for me,” he says, breaking off another piece of funnel cake with his fingers. His chin and the front of his shirt are already covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, which is somehow more endearing than offputting. You’re currently suppressing the mortifying urge to wipe it off and lick your finger. “I love fried food, and I go even crazier for sugar, so the combination is just—God.” He shakes his head, looking blissed out in the same way you recognize from when he’s half done with a milkshake. “If you don’t want to see me again after this, I’m gonna have a really hard time staying away from your work. I’ll be screwed.” 

You stare at him. Why would he be affected by how you feel about tonight? If anything, the need to avoid Steve Harrington should drive you out of town. Guys like him can do whatever they want. If he told everyone that he’d never even spoken to you and you were making this date nonsense up for attention, that would probably be more readily believed than what seems to be happening here. 

“Jesus Christ.” Steve has discovered the powdered sugar spillage down his front. He dusts off his shirt and does exactly what you’ve been wanting to, using his fingers to wipe his face and then sucking the sugar off them one by one. He looks almost sheepish when he meets your eyes, in a boyish, humorous way. “Sorry, Robin always says I eat like an animal.”

“You’re good,” you assure him. “It’s kind of impossible to avoid with powdered sugar, right?” You actually had managed to avoid it, by leaning over the little paper tray as you ate, but that’s beside the point. “You think you might want to see me again?” 

It’s blunt, not like you, and if you’d taken more than two milliseconds to think it through you know you wouldn’t have asked. Your cheeks burn. 

Steve’s brows furrow with his thumb still in his mouth, and he tilts his head like a puppy. “That’s kind of the point of dates, right?” he asks, sounding halfway between confusion and amusement. “I mean, ideally, you usually want to go out more than once.” 

“Right.” Now you’ve managed to make yourself sound like an idiot. On top of being several sizes bigger and decibels quieter than most of the other girls Steve goes out with, now you’re an airhead as well. “That makes sense, sorry.” 

“You don’t need to keep saying you’re sorry.” Steve smiles lopsided and sweet, and you can’t find even a trace of the infamous King Steve in it. Maybe in the round apple of his cheek, or the easy way he leans on the table, but not in the warmth of the look he’s giving you. The ones he’s been giving you, unreciprocated and largely mistrusted, for weeks now. “Look, we don’t have to worry about that stuff tonight. You can figure out if you think I’m worth another shot after we’re done here, and if you decide to give me a lifetime ban from your work, I’ll get it. Let’s just have fun for now, right?” 

You bite the inside of your lip, considering the soft brown of his eyes, the tiny bit of powdered sugar he’s missed just by the corner of his lips. Let’s just have fun.

“Okay,” you say. Something new and light flickers in your chest at his answering grin. “Where do you wanna start?”

[potter-head-phanatic]

"You Belong With Me" ~ (jake peralta x reader's version)

tw! tbh none rly, reader is a SWIFTIE!!! SUCK IT UP!!!

sum! "We've never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall and when we end up showering at the same time, we sometimes sing duets." (guess where i thought of this one...)

i love this prompt sm and it literally is grabbing me by the shoulders, screaming in my face - "THIS IS JAKE PERALTA AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT BESIDES POST IT"

You move into a new apartment, you got a fair warning before moving in that you're neighbor has a shower directly opposite of the wall of yours. So if you both take a shower at the same time you might hear each other.

You were fine with that. You're fine with thin walls, hearing your neighbor have a entire concert in the shower... oh well. The apartments sorta cheap.

This somewhat annoyment was before and only before you figured out he was a swiftie, then you tried to get in the shower at the same time constantly.

The man seemed to catch onto how you would always start showering as he would begin. What else he notices, you would sing duets together. Everytime he would play a Taylor song in the shower, you would sing along with him.

You both recently would give each other short term solo's during songs. It wasn't only Taylor Swift that played, sometimes it was just early 2000's songs. Still you would duet together nonetheless.

You would go to work and tell your friends about your neighbor that you know nothing about, besides his music taste.

Oblivious to you Jake had been doing the same thing at work.

"Charles!" He whisper yelled across the bullpenn, coming from the elevator. 

He fangirled to Charles about what was happening. Charles was practically begging him to ask you out, apparently he wanted a double date with Jake. Soon.

When you both got home at the same time, which Jake planned, he was going to ask you for your number. Maybe. If he psychs himself up enough.

Because worst case scenario wasn't that you "reject him". Worst case was you get weirded out, you don't ever talk to him again, you avoid him, you never do the shower concert duet thing whatever again.

You don't say anything as your unlocking your apartment, feeling awkward about seeing him. He knows your music taste. That's a detail not many people get to find out about each other. He heard you scream sing "You Belong With Me" in the shower.

"Hey, uh.." Jake said nervously, while walking up to you.

You stop unlocking the door, taking a deep nervous breath in, and putting on a smile.

"Uh, my names Jake. I'm the neighbor that you uh-" You cut him off before he finishes speaking.

"I know what we do." You say with a somewhat nervous snicker, "I'm (y/n)"

He smiles at you, "Hi. Uh, I was just wondering if I could take you out maybe sometime... and maybe get your number with it?"

Your smile got twice as big, you could feel it. You nod your head, not feeling any words possibly coming out anytime soon.

"Really?!" He said excitedly, before starting his cool guy persona again, "I meannnn, coolcoolcoolcoolcool..."

"So I can drive you to a restaurant of your choice at 9:30 on saturday? I'm a police officer, I work weekdays and I work late."

No. He had plans on friday to rewatch every single die hard movie. Also using Saturday gave him plenty of time to be ready to take you out.

"Sounds good, bring Taylor." You say before getting into your apartment.

[potter-head-phanatic]

hi miss lizzie! i’m very much a sucker for a good “tell me who did this” “who did this to you?” trope. could you maybe write (somewhat)enemy!rafe x reader? maybe topper or some kook did something to her & she’s not sure how, but she finds herself going to rafe about it or maybe he finds her & takes care of whoever it was?? idk maybe just angsty & kinda fluffy ahh!! hope this makes sense 🫡🫡

hi my angel!! i love this omgg, i LOVEEEE that trope as well, oh myyy

the moon casted a pale glow over the winding road as you trudged home from the bonfire, the salty air clinging to your skin. the night had gone south faster than you could have imagined, and now, with a throbbing nose and mascara streaking down your cheeks, you just wanted to disappear into the shadows.

you wiped at your nose again, smearing blood across the back of your hand, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

headlights lit up the road behind you, growing brighter with each passing second. you groaned, stepping further onto the grass shoulder, hoping whoever it was would just keep driving.

but, no such luck.

the truck slowed, and a familiar voice called out, sharp and taunting.

“long night, l/n? or are you practicing for the next kook week 5k?”

rafe fucking cameron. of course.

you didn’t bother looking at him, just kept walking, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“seriously? what are you doing out here, l/n? trying to hitch a ride, or just making me feel bad for your poor life choices?”

“hello?” he called again, drawing the truck to a stop alongside you. “what, too good to grace me with one of your snappy comebacks?”

“come on,” he pressed. “at least give me some material for the next time you try to roast me. you’re making it too easy.”

when you didn’t respond, his cocky smirk faded, and something in his voice shifted.

he cut himself off abruptly as you turned your head, and his eyes locked on your bloody nose and tear-streaked face.

“wait—what the hell?” the door slammed, and within seconds, he was in front of you, blocking your path. his sharp eyes darted over your face, taking in the blood trickling from your nose and the tear-streaked remnants of mascara. his jaw tightened.

“who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low and brimming with an anger that wasn’t directed at you.

you rolled your eyes, stepping around him. “go away, rafe.”

he grabbed your arm—not hard, but firm enough to stop you. “y/n. i’m not fucking joking. who did this?”

you yanked your arm free, glaring up at him. “why do you care? so you can laugh about it with topper and the rest of your kook buddies tomorrow? save it.”

his expression darkened further, the cocky edge gone entirely. “i swear to—tell me who did this before i lose my shit even more.”

you hesitated, torn between anger and confusion. this wasn’t the rafe you knew—the one who always had some snide comment or cutting remark. this rafe looked... furious. protective.

“ruthie,” you finally muttered, crossing your arms tighter. “topper’s girlfriend. she got mad because i didn’t let her trash-talk kie.”

“what the hell did she do?” he pressed, stepping closer, his voice dangerously quiet.

“I defended kie, and ruthie lost it. shoved me, got in my face. whatever. it’s done now, okay?” you snapped, tears threatening to spill again.

“why do you even care, rafe?”

he stared at you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face with a mix of anger and something softer—something you couldn’t quite place.

“because,” he said finally, his voice steady but laced with frustration, “no one gets to do this to you. no one.”

you swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over you.

“get in the truck,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, unsure if you should trust the sudden shift in him.

“y/n,” he said again, softer this time, his hand hovering near your arm as if he wasn’t sure whether you’d let him touch you. “let me take you home. and i’ll handle that girl.”

against your better judgment, you nodded, letting him guide you to the passenger seat. as he drove, the silence between you was heavy but oddly comforting.

for once, you didn’t feel the need to push him away. and for once, he didn’t feel the need to pretend he didn’t care.

[potter-head-phanatic]

Broken Silence Axel Kovacevic x Reader

Summary: Axel Kovacevic has always kept to the sidelines, especially when it comes to her—the girl who silently owns the corner of the library. Quiet, reserved, and a little lost in his own world, Axel has admired her from afar. But one rainy afternoon, he decides to take a chance. Will this quiet encounter lead to something more, or will she remain just a dream?

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when Axel Kovacevic first saw her again. He’d noticed her before, of course—how could he not? She was always in the same corner of the library, tucked away with her books, headphones on, completely immersed in her world. He’d passed by her countless times, but each time, he’d only dared to glance her way before quickly looking down at his shoes or pretending to focus on something else. He wasn’t the type to make a move, not in the way other people did, the ones who had the confidence to strike up a conversation or make their presence known. Axel had always been quieter, a little more reserved. It was easier that way.

Today, however, something was different. Maybe it was the way the rain pattered against the library windows, the world outside muted and distant, or maybe it was just the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing on his chest. Axel had never been great at talking to people, especially not the ones who made his heart race just by existing in the same room. But there she was again—the girl who had taken up residence in his mind for weeks now—and today, Axel decided, maybe he’d take a chance.

He gathered his things: a textbook he barely understood, a notebook filled with scribbles that could hardly be called notes, and his usual iced coffee that had long since turned lukewarm. His friends often teased him for always sitting at the same table by the window, as if he didn’t like change. But today, that wasn’t where he was going.

No, today, he was going to her corner.

Axel hesitated as he walked down the narrow aisles between the towering shelves, each one seemingly closing in on him. His stomach twisted with nerves. What if she didn’t want to talk to him? What if she didn’t even notice him? All those thoughts buzzed in his mind, but as he rounded the corner, there she was again—curled up in her usual spot, completely lost in the pages of a book.

Her name was (Y/N), something Axel had learned from overhearing her in passing, when she spoke to someone else. But that was all he knew—her name, and the fact that she was as quiet and solitary as he was. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he. But the thought of never talking to her at all felt like a missed opportunity he might regret forever.

Taking a deep breath, Axel pushed his anxiety aside. He approached her table, the clink of his shoes on the hard floor sounding louder in his ears than it ever had before. She didn’t notice him at first, so he waited for a moment, lingering awkwardly by the side of her chair.

“Uh, hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the soft hum of the library’s quiet atmosphere. He winced at how uncertain he sounded.

She looked up from her book, her (Y/E/C) eyes meeting his with a surprise that quickly turned into a soft smile. “Hey,” she replied, her voice gentle, like a breeze on a warm day. “Can I help you with something?”

Axel almost froze. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this moment going—he hadn’t expected her to look so effortlessly calm, so… comfortable. He had spent so many nights thinking about what he’d say, crafting a perfect line, but now that he was standing here, everything felt messy, unorganized, like his thoughts were tumbling over themselves.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat, his fingers fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I’ve seen you around the library a lot. You’re always in this corner.”

(Y/N) chuckled softly, a sound that made something warm flutter in Axel’s chest. “Yeah, it’s kind of my spot. I like it here. The quiet helps me focus.”

Axel nodded, his hands now nervously resting on the edge of the table. “I get that. I usually sit by the windows, but I—well, I thought maybe I’d try something different today.”

Her smile grew a little warmer, and Axel couldn’t help but notice the way her (Y/H/C) hair framed her face. There was something about her that made him feel like he’d been missing out on something, like there was a world of conversation and ideas just waiting for him to step into it.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” she said, her voice soft but inviting.

“Axel,” he replied, feeling an odd sense of relief. They had finally exchanged names, something that made this moment feel less like an impromptu encounter and more like an actual conversation.

They both stood there for a beat, unsure of what to say next. Axel wasn’t exactly the best at small talk, and it seemed (Y/N) wasn’t either. But she didn’t seem uncomfortable, just curious, like she was willing to see where this went. For the first time, Axel felt like maybe it was okay to let the silence hang between them. Maybe that was enough.

“What are you reading?” Axel asked, glancing down at the book in her hands, the title unfamiliar to him.

“Oh, it’s a collection of short stories by Kafka,” she said, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about it. “I’m trying to get through all of his works. I find his writing really fascinating—how he captures human nature and the way we cope with absurdity.”

Axel blinked, genuinely impressed. He had read The Metamorphosis for class once, but he had never given much thought to Kafka beyond that. “That sounds… interesting,” he said, though he wasn’t sure if he could fully grasp what she was saying. Still, he wanted to keep the conversation going. “I mean, I don’t think I’d get that deep into it, but it sounds like you really like it.”

She smiled again, the edges of her eyes crinkling slightly. “I guess I do. But I get why it’s not for everyone. Some of his stories are pretty strange, even for me.”

Axel laughed quietly, feeling his nerves ease just a little. There was something so effortlessly disarming about her—her intelligence, her calm demeanor, the way she spoke with such clarity and passion. It made him want to know more, to be a part of her world.

“Well, if you ever want someone to talk about it with, I’d be up for that,” Axel said, his words coming out more confidently than he expected. He couldn’t believe he’d said that, but it felt right. It felt like a step toward something, even if it was small.

(Y/N) looked at him for a moment, her expression softening as if considering his offer. “I’d like that,” she said, her smile growing just a little. “Maybe we can meet up next week and discuss it. I could use a fresh perspective.”

Axel nodded, his heart racing now for entirely different reasons. This was happening. He was talking to her—really talking to her. Not just standing in the same room or glancing from afar. He was here, with her, and maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something new.

“Sounds good,” he said, smiling back at her. “I’ll see you then.”

As Axel walked away, heading back to his usual spot by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. The rain outside had started to pour harder, but inside, it was as if everything had shifted. He hadn’t expected anything big to happen today, but somehow, he’d taken a step toward something bigger than he had ever thought possible.

For the first time in a long while, Axel felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

[potter-head-phanatic]

I’M NOT HIM

rafe cameron x fem!reader

( mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !! )

SUMMARY: in which rafe snaps at reader during a heated argument and she flinches, her past trauma resurfacing. rafe breaking the main promise he made to her: to not be anything like her father.

based on an ask i got that i lost </3 i hope the anon who requested it finds this, and this its what you asked for! i’m a little rusty with one-shots so just a short one to ease me into things again! :)

WARNINGS: angst to fluff, arguing, cursing, mentions of past childhood abuse (reader), mentions of a gun/brief mention of violence, trauma responses, crying. (lmk if i missed anything!!)

WORD COUNT: 900 words

THIRD PERSON +

Rafe Cameron wasn’t the kind of man anyone would describe as soft. Not with the sharp edge in his voice, the perpetual storm behind his ocean eyes, and the way his knuckles bore scars from fights he barely remembered. He had spent his life battling demons, most of them inherited from Ward Cameron, and those fights had shaped him into someone who took no prisoners.

But with Y/N, none of that mattered.

Y/N was everything Rafe wasn’t—gentle, warm, full of an optimism he couldn’t begin to understand but adored nonetheless. She radiated light, the kind that made him want to shield her from the darkness in himself. For two years, she’d been his anchor, the one person who saw past the volatile exterior to the man buried beneath. And for two years, Rafe had promised himself that he would never hurt her.

But promises don’t always hold in the heat of the moment.

The argument had started over something Y/N had brought up before: the gun in Rafe’s apartment. She hated it, hated what it represented, and hated the memories it dragged up for her.

“Rafe, I told you,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I don’t feel safe with it here. Please.”

Rafe, already wound tight from dealing with his father’s latest scheme and the growing weight of “the business,” felt his patience snap like a rubber band stretched too far.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” he muttered, pacing the living room. “It’s not like I’m walking around with it in my hand. It’s locked up, alright? Just drop it.”

Y/N didn’t drop it. She rarely did when something mattered to her. “It is a big deal, Rafe. I asked you to get rid of it. I thought you understood how—”

“I said fucking drop it!” Rafe’s voice thundered through the room, loud enough to make the walls seem smaller.

The words echoed in the sudden silence, bouncing off the tension between them. Rafe froze, immediately regretting the way he’d shouted, but it was too late.

Y/N stood there, trembling, her wide eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her lip wobbled as she tried to hold herself together, but Rafe saw the cracks forming.

“Baby…” he said softly, taking a step toward her, reaching out his hand.

She flinched. Actually flinched.

It was like a knife to his chest, sharp and unrelenting. He knew her past—knew about her father’s temper and the way it had scarred her. He knew that shouting brought her back to those dark, suffocating memories.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with panic. He reached out again, but she backed away, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I—I can’t,” she choked out before rushing to the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

Rafe rushed after her before collapsing onto the floor, pressing his back against the wall beside the bedroom door. He could hear her quiet sobs on the other side, each one driving the guilt deeper into his chest.

He buried his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, baby” he murmured, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please, just… let me make it right.”

Her sobs continued, muffled but heartbreaking. Rafe rested his head against the door, tears streaming down his face. He could picture her inside, curled up in the corner, just like she used to do as a little girl to shield herself from her father’s rage. A place he promised her she wouldn't ever have to go back to.

“I’m not him,” he whispered, as much to himself as to her. “I’ll never be him. I swear. I’ll never hurt you.”

Minutes turned into half an hour, but Rafe didn’t move. He felt he didn’t deserve to move.

When the door finally opened, Rafe almost didn’t notice at first. He’d been staring at the floor, lost in the heaviness of his own shame. But then Y/N was there, stepping out quietly and kneeling beside him.

Without a word, she crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Her touch was tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she could trust it yet, but Rafe held her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over, his voice cracking as he clung to her. “I didn’t mean it. I swear, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. She just held him, letting his warmth chase away the cold that had settled in her chest. Eventually, she pulled back just enough to look at him, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart all over again.

“Please don’t yell at me like that again,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

Rafe cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away her tears. “I won’t,” he promised, his tone fierce with conviction. “Never again. I’ll get rid of the gun. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just… don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Y/N said, her voice barely audible. “I’m afraid of the person you might become.”

Rafe nodded, the weight of her words sinking deep. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her tightly again. “I’ll be better,” he whispered. “For you, I’ll be better.”

In that moment, Rafe vowed to prove it. Not with words, but with actions—starting with the gun.

(dividers by @kodaswrld <3)

betty’s notes ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

ahhhh my first one-shot in FOREVER :’) it’s a short one and really sad and angsty but it felt like the quickest ask to whip out, and angst is easier for me to write atm :)

i’m so excited to start with the other requests, and please don’t stop requesting! i plan on writing most stuff 1,500 words +, this was just a short little ask so please request with as MUCH detail as possible <3

master list will be updated soon! but for now, to keep track of my works check my personalised tags that are below such as: #bettys asks!! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ and #bettys work!! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ or my personalised tags for characters !!

[potter-head-phanatic]

You Broke Me First || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @rafeyscurtainbangs

Summary: You didn’t expect Rafe to push you aside so easily for Sofia, but it wasn’t shocking when he called you from Morocco, confessing that she had betrayed him in the worst way.

Warnings: angst angst angst (haven't written this much angst in a hot minute) Sofia slander mb, reader ate in this one if I do say so myself 😝😝

Word count: 3,378

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe exhales sharply, tossing his cap onto the polished table with a frustrated thud. He rakes a hand through his buzzed hair, his expression caught between exasperation and regret. "C'mon, baby, don’t be like that," he pleads, his tone softer than the storm brewing between the two of you. But his attempt at pacifying you only stokes the fire raging in your chest.

You remain unmoved, your gaze fixed on the pristine, manicured lawn of the country club, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as though you’re physically holding your anger in check. The vibrant chatter of nearby patrons fades into the background, the sound nothing more than white noise to the tension crackling between you. "Like what?" you snap, voice cold and sharp, refusing to look at him.

"Like you're fucking insecure!" Rafe bites back, his words slicing through the air without thought or care. Your head whips toward him, eyes narrowing in fury. "You did not just say that to me," you seethe, the disbelief quickly morphing into a sharp-edged anger that spreads like wildfire. Rafe stares at you, jaw tight, offering no apology, no acknowledgment of the weight of what he just said.

It only fuels your rage. "You think this is about me being insecure?" you spit, stepping closer to him, your voice rising. "You let her hang all over you, Rafe. Laughing, flirting, and touching you. And you just stood there, eating it up like a goddamn idiot while I was standing right there. Right fucking there. Do you even realise how disrespectful that was?" Your words hit like rapid-fire bullets, but Rafe just shakes his head, his silence infuriating you further.

"You couldn’t even pretend to give a shit about me," you continue, your voice sharp enough to cut. "Not a glance, not a word, nothing. You just let her make a fool out of me. Do you even care how that made me look? How it made me feel?" "It wasn’t like that," Rafe mutters finally, his tone dismissive as he runs a hand through his hair again, avoiding your eyes. "Oh, fuck off," you snap, venom dripping from every syllable.

"Don’t you dare try to gaslight me, Rafe. I saw exactly what it was like. She was all over you, and you let it happen. You didn’t even have the decency to act like I was there." Your voice is rising now, no longer caring who might overhear. "You want to talk about insecurity? How about the fact that you can’t say no to someone feeding your fucking ego? God forbid you turn her down, because then what? You don’t get to be the centre of attention for five goddamn minutes?"

Rafe flinches at your words, his posture stiffening, but you’re too far gone to stop. "You’re pathetic," you hiss, stepping even closer, forcing him to look at you. "You love it, don’t you? The attention, the admiration—so much that you don’t even care what it costs me. You don’t care that it makes me look like a joke. That it makes me feel like a fucking idiot for standing by your side." "That’s not fair," Rafe says quietly, his tone defensive, but his voice is barely audible over your anger.

"Fair?" you bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Do you even know what that word means, Rafe? Fair is treating the person you claim to care about with an ounce of respect. Fair is not making me feel like I’m in this relationship alone while you let random girls flirt with you because it strokes your goddamn ego." Your breathing is heavy now, your chest heaving as you glare at him, your anger a living, breathing thing that refuses to be contained.

For a moment, you think Rafe might say something—anything—to defend himself, to fix this. His lips part as if words are on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. Instead, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of his silence hanging heavy in the air. His refusal to fight for you—to fight with you—burns hotter than anything he could have said.

"Unbelievable," you mutter, your voice dripping with bitter disbelief as you turn on your heel. You pause just long enough to deliver one final blow, the venom in your words leaving no room for ambiguity. "You know what, Rafe? When that Pogue turns on you, don’t you dare come crawling back to me. You made your choice." You don't wait for his response—if he even has one.

Your heels click sharply against the floor as you walk away, your back to him, shoulders squared. The lump in your throat threatens to choke you, but you swallow it down, your anger your shield against the pain threatening to bubble up. Behind you, Rafe doesn’t call out. He doesn’t follow. The soft scrape of his chair shifting against the floor is the only sound he makes, and it sends a pang of hurt slicing through your chest.

You don’t look back. You can’t. You leave him standing there, his cap still sitting on the table, the perfect picture of a man who’s just realised how deeply he’s fucked up. The realisation is written all over his face, but it’s too little, too late.

~

"Hello?" you answer, pressing the phone to your ear. The line crackles with a brief silence, heavy and tense, before you hear a voice—his voice. "She fucked me over," Rafe spits out, his words sharp and laced with anger. "She screwed with me and my fucking money." Your eyes widen, and instinctively, you sink into the nearest seat, your mind racing to process the flood of emotions his sudden call evokes.

His tone is frantic, his words tumbling out in a bitter, unrelenting rant. "What?" you manage, your voice tight with confusion. "What are you talking about, Rafe?" He exhales harshly, the sound of frustration practically vibrating through the receiver. "Sofia," he growls, the name dripping with venom. His words come fast, tumbling over each other in a frantic, furious rant.

"She—she knew. The whole time. She knew exactly what was happening to my money and just watched it happen. Worse, she didn't do a damn ting to stop it because she was a part of it." Your stomach twists as his words paint a picture of betrayal deeper than you’d imagined. "What the hell are you talking about?" you ask, your voice sharper now, though confusion still clouds your tone.

"She was involved," he says bitterly. "The deal—the fucking deal that cost me everything. She kept her mouth shut, let me take the hit, and now I’m the one left to clean up the mess. And the whole time, she stood there smiling, acting like she gave a damn about me." You exhale slowly, trying to process the weight of what he’s saying.

There’s an anger rising in you—not for Sofia, but for Rafe’s blind trust and his reckless decisions. "And what, you just figured this out now?" "No," he admits, his voice dropping to something almost pained. "I knew something was off for weeks. But I didn’t want to believe it. I fucking proposed to her, for God’s sake. Thought if I just… held on tighter, I could fix things. Fix us."

You freeze, the confession hitting you like a sucker punch. "You proposed?" "Yeah," he spits, the word dripping with self-loathing. "And you know what she did? She cried. Not because she was happy. Not because she loved me. Because she felt guilty." He laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. "She couldn’t even bring herself to tell me the truth while I was down on one fucking knee."

For a moment, the line goes quiet, his words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You know, Rafe," you finally say, your voice steady but edged with anger, "this is what happens when you put your trust in someone who’s only looking out for themselves." He exhales sharply, the sound of his frustration practically vibrating through the phone. "I get it," he snaps. "I should’ve listened to you. You warned me, and I didn’t care. I thought I knew better."

"You thought you were untouchable," you counter, your words hitting him like a slap. "And now you’re calling me? For what? To say I told you so?" "No," he says, softer now, almost broken. "I don’t know why I called. Maybe because you were the only one who actually gave a damn about me. Or maybe because I needed someone to hear it—someone who’d understand what it’s like to be completely fucked over by someone you trusted."

You close your eyes, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But you push it aside, unwilling to let his pain pull you back in. "This doesn’t change anything, Rafe," you say firmly. "You made your choices. You can’t just run to me every time they blow up in your face." "I know," he murmurs, the defeat in his tone cutting deeper than his anger ever could. "I just… I didn’t know who else to call." You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, feeling the weight of Rafe’s words sink in.

“Where are you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to make sense of everything. “Morocco,” he says, the word hanging in the air like a punch. Your heart stutters, and your eyes widen as you try to process his response. “What?” you ask, unable to keep the disbelief out of your voice. “With who?” "Sarah and her friends. Look, it’s... a long story, alright?" You scoff, shaking your head. The frustration that had been simmering inside you spills over, and you can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice.

“Yeah, I can fucking imagine. Jesus, Rafe. What have you gotten yourself into this time?” You feel your hands balling into fists, the anger bubbling up again. How did he always manage to get himself tangled in these messes? There’s a pause on the other end, the kind of silence that feels heavy with regret. Rafe’s voice comes through, softer, almost pleading. “Can you do me a favour? Please?” You hesitate, trying to weigh your options. After everything that’s happened, you weren’t sure you wanted to do him any more favours, but you couldn’t ignore the desperation in his tone.

“Depends,” you reply, keeping your guard up, knowing full well that Rafe’s requests often led to more complications than they were worth. He sighs heavily, as if the weight of what he’s about to ask is too much. “Can you go to my house and check if she’s still there?” You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts. “What’s she doing in your house?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, your suspicion rising like an unsettling tide. There’s a beat of hesitation before Rafe’s voice cracks slightly.

“I... I asked her to move in with me,” he admits, the rawness of his confession making the words sting like salt on a wound. You feel a cold laugh escape you before you can stop it. “Yeah, of course you did,” you mutter, your teeth clenching as the bitterness grows. The thought of Sofia, the same woman who had betrayed him, now living in his house—it doesn’t sit right with you. It feels like a betrayal in itself, a reminder of everything Rafe never learned. “Please, Y/n,” Rafe’s voice cuts through the tension, quieter now, softer, and the pleading tone in his words makes your chest tighten.

“I just need to know if she’s still there. I can’t trust anything right now, and I don’t know who else to ask.” You lean back against the wall, your eyes closing for a moment as you let out a long, frustrated sigh. You knew it was going to be something like this. You knew Rafe’s charm and his impulsiveness would lead him straight into another mess, but this? This felt like too much. “Fine,” you say, finally, the weight of his request heavy in your chest. “I’ll go. But you owe me one, Rafe.”

~

Pulling up to the house you were once so familiar with, you let out a deep sigh. The place looks the same, but it feels different—distant. Your hand tightens on the steering wheel for a moment before you shift into park. You take a breath and step out of the car, walking up the front stairs with a heavy sense of purpose. When you test the front door, your suspicion proves right—it’s unlocked. Slowly, you push it open, the creak of the hinges breaking the silence inside. The house feels empty, eerily quiet.

You move further in, your footsteps echoing off the hardwood floors, until a voice stops you dead in your tracks. "Rafe? Is that you?" The shakiness in her tone is unmistakable, and it irks you more than you care to admit. You scoff under your breath and follow the sound of her voice to the living room. There she is—Sofia, looking nothing like the confident, composed woman she used to be. The moment she sees you, her eyes widen in shock, and she quickly stands, hastily wiping her tears from her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" she says, her voice a mix of disbelief and unease. You can’t hide the bitterness that creeps into your words as you respond. "Trust me, I do not want to be here," you roll your eyes, moving to sit on the single armchair across from her, the space between you two feeling as vast as the gulf that’s grown between your lives. "Why are you here, Y/n?" Her voice shakes, but you can see the cracks in her façade. She’s barely holding it together.

You lean back in the chair, crossing your arms. "I could ask the same of you. Rafe wanted you out of here." Her throat tightens, and she swallows hard, trying to maintain some control. "I'm not leaving until I talk to him again," she argues, but her resolve feels weak, as if she knows deep down that this battle is already lost. You scoff, your patience wearing thin. "Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. You're dead to him," you say flatly, watching as the color drains from Sofia’s face.

The fear in her eyes is almost satisfying. She’s starting to realise the weight of the mess she’s made. "I-I..." She stammers, her eyes darting around, desperately searching for an escape that isn’t coming. You lean forward slightly, letting the silence linger just long enough before you speak again, your voice cold, steady. "You know what Rafe can’t stand more than anything, Sof?" you begin, watching as she flinches at the mention of his name. "Backstabbers."

The word hangs between you, thick with meaning, and you can see the realisation slowly settle in her. There’s no turning back now. Sofia's eyes dart nervously, avoiding yours as if she’s trying to escape the gravity of your words. She opens her mouth to speak but stops herself, as though the words are caught in her throat. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, wiping her eyes again, but this time the tears don’t come.

Instead, there's just this raw vulnerability, something she rarely ever lets slip. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this," she finally mutters, her voice a broken whisper. "You don’t understand. I—" "Save it," you cut her off, your tone colder than you expected. "I’m not here for your excuses, Sofia. Whatever sob story you’ve cooked up, I don’t care. The damage is done. Rafe trusted you. He would’ve given you the world if you asked for it. And you—" You stop, swallowing the heat building in your chest.

"You took everything from him, didn’t even think twice about it." Sofia trembles, her gaze flickering to the floor as she struggles to hold back the overwhelming guilt threatening to spill out. "I didn’t want this to happen. I swear I didn’t," she whispers, her voice uneven. "I was hurt. By what he said, by the way he treated me. I—I was just trying to keep things from falling apart, and it got too messy. I couldn’t back out."

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Oh, so that’s it? You were hurt, so you decided to screw him over? That’s your excuse?" Her lip quivers, and for a moment, you think she might break, but then her voice rises, desperate. "It wasn’t like that!" she insists. "You don’t get it. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I thought maybe if I just went along with it, I could fix things—" "Fix things?" you snap, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"By lying to him? By betraying him? That’s what you call fixing things?" You scoff again, crossing your arms. "You didn’t care about fixing anything. You cared about yourself. You wanted to stay comfortable, no matter what it cost him." She stands too, her posture stiff, her shoulders drawn tight. "I was scared," she says, her voice trembling. "I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I stayed quiet, I could keep it together. I didn’t want to hurt him, I swear—"

You cut her off with a wave of your hand, the irritation bubbling to the surface. "Stop acting like I care, Sofia," you say flatly, your words slicing through the tension. "You think I’m here defending him? After what he put me through?” You let out a humorless laugh. "I couldn’t care less about Rafe. But you—" You step closer, your eyes narrowing.

"You think you’re special, don’t you? You think you can walk in here, cry a few tears, and fix everything? And the worst part is, you don’t even realise it." Her mouth falls open slightly, her expression faltering as she processes your words. She looks at you like she’s seeing someone else, someone she doesn’t recognise, and for a fleeting moment, you almost feel bad. Almost.

"You broke him, Sofia," you say, your voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "And now you’re standing here, trying to paint yourself as the victim. It’s disgusting." The silence that follows is deafening, a void neither of you can fill. Sofia doesn’t respond. She doesn’t move. She just stands there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes glossy but dry. For once, she has nothing left to say. "Get out," you say finally, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your words unmistakable. "You’ve done enough damage."

Sofia's lip quivers as she stands there for a moment, motionless, her breath hitching as if she wants to argue but can’t find the words. Instead, she presses her trembling lips together and nods faintly, her head hanging low. Without another word, she brushes past you, her footsteps hesitant but quickening as she heads for the door. The sound of her leaving echoes through the house—the shuffle of her shoes on the floor, the creak of the door as it opens, and the final, resounding click as it closes behind her.

For a few moments, you remain where you are, letting the silence settle over the space. The air feels heavier now, and your chest tightens with a mixture of lingering anger and exhaustion. You reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone with a deliberate slowness. Your thumb hovers over Rafe’s name in your contacts for a second longer than it should, but you shake off the hesitation and press the call button. The line rings twice before he picks up.

"What?" His voice is sharp, irritated, like he wasn’t expecting you to call—or wasn’t in the mood to deal with you if you did. "It’s done," you say simply, your tone devoid of emotion. "She’s gone. You won’t have to deal with her anymore." There’s a pause on the other end, long enough for you to hear him exhale. "Good," he mutters, his voice clipped. You don’t respond right away, letting his words hang in the air.

When you do speak, your voice is distant, detached. "Don’t call me again, Rafe. Whatever this was—whatever you needed—it’s over." "What’s that supposed to mean?" he snaps, the irritation in his voice sharpening into something defensive. "It means I’m done," you say firmly, your grip on the phone tightening. "Don’t drag me into your mess again. Clean up your own life next time." "Y/n—" You don’t wait for him to finish.

You end the call and toss your phone onto the couch, the finality of it settling over you like a weight. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the empty room, the silence pressing down on you. It’s done. Whatever mess Rafe and Sofia had created, you’d played your part in untangling it. But as you look around the house, you realise you feel no sense of victory, no relief. Just a hollow emptiness, as if something in you has finally burned out.

Without another glance, you grab your bag and head for the door. You don’t need to stay here any longer. You’ve said everything you needed to say, done everything you needed to do. And as you step outside into the fresh air, you make a silent promise to yourself: you’re walking away from this for good.

[potter-head-phanatic]

RAFE CAMERON - paired up together

quarterback!extroverted jock x shy!introverted!FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: soft!rafe cameron

your mom and dad always had a vision for you, one that didn’t exactly include self-defense classes. when you were younger, they signed you up for piano lessons, art workshops, and just about anything that didn’t involve sweat or the possibility of a sprained ankle. they didn’t want you to feel weak, of course, but they thought strength came from different things—discipline, refinement, skill.

“you don’t need to learn to throw punches,” your mom would say. “you need discipline. structure. music.”

so you’re not exactly the strongest person in the world, but you’re not weak either. you’ve got your limits, sure, but you also like to think you can handle yourself if you absolutely had to. you’re just hoping today isn’t one of those days.

as you walk with your best friend to PE, the two of you are mid-gossip, laughing at something she said about the latest drama in your grade.

“and then she had the nerve to say my dress was last season, when hers looked like it came out of her grandma’s attic,” lana says, flipping her hair dramatically.

you snort. “maybe she was going for vintage?”

“vintage?” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “there’s a difference between vintage and… tragic.”

the conversation carries you all the way to the gym, where your PE teacher, coach davis, claps his hands together and gets everyone’s attention.

“alright, listen up!” he booms, his voice echoing off the walls. “today, we’re starting a self-defense unit. and before anyone complains, let me just say—you’re gonna thank me later. trust me.”

there’s a murmur of interest and maybe a little dread from the class. you glance around and spot the football team—rafe cameron and topper thornton in the corner—leaning against the wall like they’re above it all. rafe’s tossing a football between his hands absentmindedly, while topper’s saying something that makes him smirk.

“of course they’re here,” lana mutters, following your gaze, looking at each football player.

“at least we’re not getting paired with them,” you whisper back, half-joking.

lana shakes her head, “i feel like you just jinxed us.”

you look at her, “no, you just jinxed us by saying that i jinxed us.”

she looks at you with a confused face, “you’re not even making sense, like at all.”

“whatever, they're football players, it would be weird if we were paired with them,” you raised your shoulders.

coach davis goes on to explain the basics of the class, ending with the bombshell: “you’re gonna be partnered up for these drills. i’ll call out the pairs.”

your friend groans dramatically. “if it’s not them then i’m gonna get stuck with someone who doesn’t even know how to hold a fist properly.”

“maybe it’ll be me,” you say, grinning.

“please,” she shoots back. “you’re not hopeless. you’re just… delicate.”

before you can defend yourself, coach starts calling out pairs. when he says your best friend’s name, followed by topper’s, her jaw drops.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispers, shooting you a look. “like i said, you jinxed us.”

“at least he’s strong?” you offer, barely holding back a laugh.

“and annoying.” she sighs, but there’s a faint pink tinge to her cheeks as she walks over to topper.

then coach calls your name.

“you’re with rafe cameron.”

your stomach drops. you glance up to find rafe already looking at you, his eyebrows slightly raised, the smirk replaced by something unreadable.

“great,” you mutter under your breath, grabbing your water bottle and making your way over.

the self-defense gym class is not exactly your idea of a good time. the thought of being paired up with anyone, let alone someone like rafe cameron—quarterback, golden boy, cute jock extraordinaire—makes you want to melt into the floor. but when coach calls your name, followed by his, there’s no escaping it.

you shuffle over to him, clutching your water bottle, avoiding his eyes. rafe, on the other hand, stands there looking like he’s just been told he won the lottery, but he’s trying way too hard to play it cool.

“guess we’re partners,” he says, a little too brightly, flashing that easy grin of his. it’s the kind of smile that probably works on everyone else, but you just nod and mumble, “yeah, okay.”

the first drill is basic—a wrist grab escape.

“so,” he starts, dropping the football to the ground and kicking it aside, “here’s the plan. i’ll go easy on you, obviously. i mean, i’m not gonna, like, actually grab you or anything. just… enough so you can practice the moves. sound good?”

you blink at him, unsure what to say. he’s talking fast, like he’s trying to fill the silence before it even has a chance to settle.

“and if you’re not sure about something, just tell me,” he continues, his hands gesturing animatedly. “i’ve, uh, done some of this stuff before. kind of, you know… for football and stuff.” he scratches the back of his neck, like that explains everything.

“okay,” you say softly, nodding.

he hesitates for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to say more, but when you don’t, he shifts awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“cool. yeah. uh… so, you wanna start with the wrist grab thing?” he asks, his voice a little higher than usual.

“sure,” you reply, your tone neutral.

he stares at you for a second longer, then clears his throat and rubs his hands together. “alright. this’ll be easy. just… pretend I’m the bad guy or something.”

you glance up at him briefly, your lips twitching into the smallest of smiles. “okay, bad guy.”

his laugh is sudden, almost startled, like he didn’t expect you to say that. he recovers quickly, though, his grin softening into something less forced.

“alright, let’s do this,” he says, stepping a little closer. you try not to focus on how tall he is, how he seems to take up all the space around you.

the first few exercises are awkward, to say the least. rafe has to grab your wrist in what’s supposed to be a firm hold, and you’d have to fumble your way through the escape technique. it’s not perfect, but it’s good enough to get the drill going.

the two of you are both way too aware of each other. the awkwardness of it all makes the air feel heavier, and there’s this strange, bubbling tension that neither of you knows how to shake. rafe’s grip on your wrist is a little too firm at first, and you instinctively yank it out of his hold too quickly, which makes you both pause and look at each other for a second.

there’s a beat of silence, and then rafe’s face cracks into a grin. “uh… yeah, you’re definitely supposed to slowly pull away,” he says, his voice a little too bright for the situation.

you blink at him, your face flushing. “sorry, I—uh—I panicked.”

he lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s fine. we’re just trying this out.”

you can’t help but feel embarrassed, your cheeks heating up under his gaze. you didn’t think self-defense could be this awkward, but the whole thing is kind of ridiculous. the movements feel so stiff and uncoordinated, and you can tell rafe is trying way too hard to hide his laughter.

“okay,” you mutter, looking anywhere but at him. “let’s try again.”

this time, rafe tries to go easy on you, adjusting his stance, but as soon as he grabs your wrist again, there’s a moment of hesitation, and both of you burst into suppressed giggles. it’s just too silly—the way you’re both standing there, pretending to fight, looking like absolute amateurs.

you can’t stop the laughter from slipping out, and the sound is so unexpected that it catches you off guard. your face burns, and you quickly cover it with your hand, hoping no one notices how flustered you are.

“okay, okay,” rafe says between laughs, still holding your wrist but clearly fighting to keep himself together. his heart is racing, not from the physical exertion of the exercises, but from the way he can’t seem to focus on anything except how adorable you look when you laugh. “we’re, uh, doing great, right?”

you can’t even meet his eyes. your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “yeah, definitely.”

but rafe’s heart is thundering in his chest, too loud for him to ignore. he’s never been this nervous during a drill, not even when he’s throwing a football in front of a crowd. everything about this is making his insides do flip-flops, and he can’t understand why.

the two of you keep going through the exercises, but the laughter doesn’t stop. each time rafe grabs your wrist, or you try to make an escape, there’s this shared, silent understanding between the two of you. it’s ridiculous. it’s awkward. and it’s perfect.

he notices the way your hands shake slightly, how your eyes keep darting away from his, and it just makes him want to laugh even more. it’s so real, so raw, in a way he’s never felt before. he doesn’t know why, but he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

“you’re doing fine,” he says softly after a while, his voice unusually gentle. “really. don’t worry about it.”

you nod, barely able to form words as you keep your gaze firmly on the floor. he wants to say something else, but the words get stuck in his throat. it’s strange—this is strange. something about the way you make him feel like he’s in way over his head, and it’s making his heart race faster than he can keep up with.

coach davis started droning on about the next exercise, something about how to escape a bear hug or tackle or whatever, but you’re not really listening. you’re too busy trying to get the next move right, shifting your weight awkwardly, wondering if your face is as red as it feels.

what you are aware of, though, is the way rafe is looking at you. his gaze is soft, but it doesn’t feel casual—it’s more intense than it should be, like he's lost in a thought you’re not a part of. every time you glance at him, he’s still staring, his lips slightly parted like he’s about to say something but can’t quite figure out what.

you don’t notice how long he’s been staring, how he’s not paying attention to coach davis at all, but lana does.

she’s standing a few feet away with topper, listening half-heartedly to the coach’s explanation while she watches you both from the corner of her eye. when she sees rafe’s gaze fixed on you, her eyebrow raises, the corners of her lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“no way,” she mutters to topper, who’s clearly more interested in trying not to sweat than anything happening in the class.

lana shifts closer to you, nudging your shoulder gently. “okay, seriously, are you two going to pretend like nothing is happening here?” she whispers, her voice laced with amusement.

you barely hear her, focused on the way rafe shifts his weight, trying to act casual, but you don’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, still trying to concentrate on what coach davis is saying.

“girl,” she says, almost too loudly, making you blush even harder, “you’ve got mr. quarterback staring at you like you’re the only thing in this gym. i swear, you’re not even paying attention, and he’s over here practically drooling.”

you blink at her, confused, your face going even redder. you glance over at rafe quickly, thinking you’re imagining it, but—no. he’s still looking at you, and the moment your eyes meet, his expression shifts from uncertainty to something else, something you can’t quite figure out.

and then, like a punch to the gut, you finally pull your gaze from him, letting your eyes fall to the floor like you’re trying to escape from the intensity of the moment.

lana catches the look, then smirks, nudging you again. “i’m not crazy. he’s definitely into you. like, definitely. look at him—he’s not even pretending to pay attention anymore.”

you try to focus on something else—anything else—but you feel the weight of his gaze still on you, like he’s looking right through you. it makes your chest tighten, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him again.

“stop,” you whisper harshly, though you don’t even know why you’re saying it.

lana just giggles, her eyes lighting up like she’s holding onto some great secret. “i’m just saying, girl. you’re killing him right now.”

meanwhile, rafe, clueless about what’s going on between the two of you, is still struggling to keep his composure. his heart is racing even faster now, and all he can think about is how you’re just standing there, not noticing what he’s feeling—he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed by that. all he knows is that he can’t seem to look away from you.

rafe exhales slowly, trying to ground himself, even though it feels impossible.

[potter-head-phanatic]

RAFE CAMERON - just one date

x sweet!pogue!FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 5212

GENRE: fluff (teeny tiny angst)

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of cheating (not rafe), rafe calling reader 'sweet girl'

you found yourself sitting on your bed, staring blankly at the wall, tears still stubbornly slipping down your cheeks. “you really think i would stay with a pogue like you?” his words had stung like venom, and they echoed in your mind, over and over again.

you had tried so hard to ignore the doubts, to convince yourself that it was all worth it—that he was worth it. but now? now, everything was shattered, and you couldn’t hold the pieces together anymore.

you sheepishly nodded your head, trying to regain just a fraction of the dignity he had so easily stripped from you. you felt small, embarrassed, humiliated—and you hadn’t even been the one in the wrong.

he was.

he chose her. above you.

and you regretted every argument, every moment you’d defended him to your friends. you’d backed him up, made excuses for him, convinced yourself that he was different. but now? now it felt like nothing more than a cruel joke.

“you might be sweet, but you’re not one of the smartest girls, cupcake.” the smirk on his face made your stomach twist. you wished you could slap it off his face, wipe that smugness away, but you couldn’t move.

then a voice—his voice—cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“earth to y/n,” a hand waved in front of your face, pulling you out of your haze.

you looked up, startled, and there he was—rafe cameron.

his brow was furrowed, eyes searching your face as if trying to read you. it wasn’t a normal “rafe” look—this was something else. something softer.

“hey, sweet girl,” he said, his voice gentler than you expected. “you alright?”

you blinked, struggling to pull yourself together. rafe had always been your childhood best friend, the one who never judged you, the one who saw the real you. but right now, he was staring at you with an intensity that felt...different.

you wiped your eyes hastily, but it only made your tears come harder.

“i don’t... i don’t know what i did wrong,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “i gave him everything, rafe. everything.”

rafe didn’t say anything at first. instead, he just sat down next to you on the bed, his presence solid and warm, grounding you.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, sweet girl,” he said, his words almost like a soft promise. “he’s the one who messed up. not you.”

you wanted to believe him. you wanted to believe that it wasn’t your fault.

“but why? why pick her? why pick... her over me?” your voice cracked as you spoke.

rafe’s expression shifted, his eyes hardening as he shook his head. “because he’s a complete idiot. that’s why. a selfish, dumb idiot who doesn’t deserve you. not like i do.”

your heart skipped in your chest at his words. he said them so confidently, so matter-of-fact, and for a brief moment, you almost believed him.

“you deserve someone who knows what he has,” rafe continued. “someone who’s not gonna choose a girl who probably doesn’t even care about him like you do.”

you met his eyes, feeling the weight of his gaze like a soft anchor in a sea of confusion. “thanks, rafe,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

rafe chuckled, his usual cocky grin creeping onto his face. “well, you should’ve dated me, sweet girl.”

you let out a shaky laugh, the first laugh you’d managed all night. it wasn’t much, but it was something. “yeah, maybe you’re right,” you said, trying to muster a bit of humor.

rafe’s smile widened, and for a second, you could see something soft in his eyes. it was like you’d just melted the icy wall he’d kept up for so long.

“i mean, come on,” he teased, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “i’m a hell of a catch. why settle for that loser when you could’ve had this?”

you laughed again, this time a little louder, and something inside rafe shifted. he didn’t look like the arrogant, self-assured guy you’d grown up with—no, now he looked like someone who’d just let down his guard for you.

he looked at you like you had just made his world a little brighter, and in that moment, you realized just how much he meant to you—not just as a friend, but as someone who cared about you in a way that was rare.

“you’re such a dork,” you said with a weak smile, wiping away another stray tear.

rafe just grinned, his eyes softening even more. “yeah, but i’m your dork, sweet girl.”

and for the first time that night, you actually believed it. you believed that maybe, just maybe, there was someone who truly saw you.

“i’ll always have your back, y/n,” rafe said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “you never have to go through this alone.”

the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the ocean. the waves were perfect—big but not too wild—and you had been out there for hours, trying (and mostly failing) to catch one.

rafe was beside you, effortlessly riding the waves like he was born on a surfboard, while you struggled to stay upright. it was the kind of day where everything felt right, the kind of day that made you forget about everything else—the drama, the stress, everything that had been weighing on you lately.

“okay, sweet girl, focus.”

rafe’s voice was low and teasing as he paddled over to you, his board gliding smoothly through the water. his eyes were full of that signature confidence of his, the one that made you feel like you could do anything... even though, in this case, surfing was still a work in progress for you.

“i’m trying!” you laughed, trying to wipe the saltwater out of your eyes. “it’s harder than it looks.”

rafe grinned, his smile turning mischievous. “yeah, i know. but you’re doing great. now, when the wave comes—don’t freak out. just keep your balance and trust me, you’ll ride it.”

you nodded, your stomach fluttering a little, both from the excitement and... well, the fact that rafe was staring at you with that intense, knowing look.

as the next wave came in, rafe paddled ahead, giving you a quick wink. “here comes a good one, sweet girl. you ready?”

you took a deep breath, focused, and started paddling, but before you knew it, you lost your balance and fell into the water with a splash.

“ow,” you muttered, coming up for air and wiping the water from your face.

rafe was already there, laughing a little as he helped you back onto your board. “you good?”

you glared at him playfully. “yeah, just embarrassed, that’s all.”

rafe grinned, his eyes sparkling. “don’t worry about it. everyone falls. even me, once in a while.”

“yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “you’re practically a professional.”

he laughed, paddling closer to you. “maybe. but you know, i’m a professional at more than just surfing.”

you raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious. “oh? and what else are you a professional at, rafe?”

he leaned back, resting on his board, looking completely relaxed. “well, i’m pretty good at knowing what i want, sweet girl.”

you felt a flutter in your chest at the way he said it, but you tried to play it cool. “oh yeah? and what do you want, exactly?”

rafe smirked, his gaze locking with yours. “you. you should date me.”

your heart skipped. “what?” you blinked, sure you hadn’t heard him right.

“you should date me,” he repeated, his voice smooth and confident, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “nooo, we shouldn’t, rafe.”

rafe’s expression didn’t change; in fact, it only grew more intense. “why not, sweet girl?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

you tried to keep things light, but your heart was beating too fast, and you felt your face flush. “because… well, we’re friends, rafe. we’ve been friends for so long. dating would just ruin everything.”

rafe chuckled, paddling closer to you, his face serious now. “is that really why? or is it because you’re scared of what could happen?”

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling that familiar heat creep up your neck. “i’m not scared.”

“you sure about that, sweet girl?” he asked, leaning in just a little closer, his voice quiet and teasing. “because i think you’re scared of how good we could be together.”

your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. you and rafe had always been close, but this... this felt different. “rafe, we’re best friends.”

“and that’s exactly why it would work,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “we get each other. i know you better than anyone. and you know me, even with all my flaws.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, it wasn’t just rafe—the guy you’d known your whole life. it was rafe, the guy who was slowly breaking down all your walls with just a few words.

“you’re really serious about this, huh?” you whispered.

rafe nodded, his gaze steady. “yeah. i’m serious, sweet girl. you should date me.”

the sun was setting over the beach, casting a golden hue across the group of friends hanging out at the shore. kie, jj, pope, and you were sprawled out on the sand, chatting and laughing, as the sound of the waves crashing in the background filled the air. it was one of those perfect summer evenings, where everything felt easy, and you didn’t want it to end.

you’d been spending a lot of time with rafe lately. you knew the others noticed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought. it wasn’t anything serious—at least, you didn’t think it was. but lately, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two, something that made your heart race every time you saw him.

as you glanced over toward the shore, you spotted him—rafe, just a few feet away, laughing with some friends. you smiled to yourself, trying not to get caught staring, but jj was quick to notice.

“hey, isn't that your boyfriend over there?” jj teased, pointing in rafe’s direction with a smirk.

you immediately felt your cheeks heat up. “oh, stop,” you said, shaking your head with a soft laugh, your voice sweet and warm, trying to brush it off. “it’s not like that, jj.”

kie raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a grin. “well, he’s not wrong though, right? you two are always together these days.”

“stop,” you said, but this time, you giggled, your voice light and gentle, trying to ignore the growing warmth in your face. “he can hear you.”

as if on cue, you heard rafe’s familiar voice drifting over from the edge of the group. “nah, they’re right, sweet girl,” he called with a grin, walking over casually and brushing the sand off his hands. “i could totally be your boyfriend.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how smoothly he said it, your heart doing that little flip in your chest. “not really, rafe,” you teased, your smile growing even bigger.

he nudged you playfully with his elbow, and you couldn’t help but giggle again. “we’ll see about that,” he said, still grinning, clearly enjoying the moment.

your face lit up with the cutest, most genuine smile as you looked at him. “thanks for the offer.”

rafe smirked, leaning down to sit beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. he was completely comfortable in his own skin, as always, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like you were the only person in the world at that moment.

“you’re welcome, sweet girl,” he said, his tone light but with an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip.

jj and kie changed amused looks, both of them clearly enjoying the dynamic between you two. pope just shook his head, grinning, clearly pleased to see you happy.

“okay, okay,” jj said with a chuckle. “you two are cute, but we’ll let you figure out the whole ‘dating’ thing later.”

you couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling a mix of lightness and warmth, knowing that your friends were teasing, but also really just looking out for you. you glanced at rafe, who was watching you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, and felt a little flutter in your chest. Whatever was going on between you two, it was something new and exciting—and maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that was starting to wonder what it would be like to see where it could go.

the sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over sarah’s room as you, john b and sarah lounged around on the bed, the three of you chatting casually, a comfortable silence falling over the group as you just hung out.

sarah was flipping through a magazine, but her eyes kept darting to you, a sly smile tugging at her lips. you couldn’t ignore the way she kept glancing between you and john b, clearly waiting for the right moment to drop a bomb.

finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. “you know, rafe talks about you a lot.” her voice was light, teasing, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes.

your heart skipped in your chest. rafe had been on your mind lately—way too much, actually—but you tried to keep things light. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to think anything serious was going on. you blushed, looking down at your hands as if they could somehow distract you from the heat creeping up your neck.

“what? no way, sarah,” you said, a little too quickly, trying to cover up the surprise in your voice. “rafe doesn’t talk about me. we’re just... friends. nothing more.”

sarah raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “uh-huh. you’re telling me the guy who spends literally all his time with you doesn’t talk about you?” she leaned back, crossing her arms with that playful look she always got when she was onto something. “come on, y/n, i’m not stupid. he’s always bringing you up.”

you swallowed, feeling yourself blush even harder. you tugged on your sleeve nervously, trying to hide the growing embarrassment. “really, it’s nothing, sarah. he’s just... he’s not made for me, okay?” you said softly, trying to downplay it. “he’s... complicated, and i’m just not ready for that kind of drama. we’re just... friends.” you said it again, as if repeating the words would make you believe it.

john b, who had been lazily lying on his back, suddenly propped himself up on his elbows, his curious eyes studying you. “you never know, y/n,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of something more—hope, maybe? “maybe you two could be something. it’s not always the way it seems.”

you shook your head, the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. “no, john b, i do know.” yout voice softened, but the resolve in it was clear. “the same thing is gonna happen as always. he’ll get bored, or it’ll turn into a mess, and i’ll be the one who’s hurt. i can already see it.” you looked down at your hands again, your fingers twisting the hem of your sleeve in a nervous habit you hadn’t realized you were doing.

sarah’s teasing smile faded a little, and she sat up, looking at you with an understanding that made your chest tighten. “you don’t know that for sure, though, y/n.”

but you shook your head, smiling faintly, trying to push the feelings back down where they belonged. “i do know. i can’t do it. i’m not ready to deal with someone like him. he’s got too many layers, too many... things that make him complicated. i’m not built for that. not anymore.”

john b frowned, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he sat up and gave you a sympathetic look. “alright, y/n, if you say so. but you’re a lot stronger than you think. and you deserve someone who can handle you—all of you.”

sarah nodded in agreement, her eyes softening. “and if it’s rafe, then maybe it’s meant to be. you’ll figure it out, y/n.”

you smiled, but it wasn’t as easy this time. you had spent so long convincing yourself that nothing could happen between you and rafe—that it was safer this way—that it was hard to picture anything else. you didn’t want to set yourself up for disappointment. but deep down, a part of you wondered if sarah and john be were right. what if it could work?

you made your way downstairs, the house still and quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. the cameron’s fridge always had your favorite apple juice stocked, and today was no different. you smiled to yourself, pouring a glass and feeling at home in the familiarity of tannyhill.

as you reached for the carton, you spotted rafe standing at the kitchen counter, his back turned to you. his posture was slouched, and he looked deep in thought, an air of melancholy surrounding him that you hadn’t seen before. normally, rafe had an easy, almost cocky confidence, but today, there was something off about him.

you couldn’t help the warm smile that tugged at your lips as you walked over to him. you hadn’t seen him in a few hours, and as much as you liked the space, you still found yourself gravitating toward him, like you always did.

“hey, you,” you said gently, your voice soft as you poured yourself a glass of juice. you couldn’t help but notice the frown on his face as he slowly turned to face you.

rafe didn’t immediately respond, his eyes tired and distant. normally, he’d have something snarky to say, but tonight, he just seemed... sad.

“what’s wrong?” you set your glass down and stepped closer, placing your hand on his arm instinctively, your thumb brushing over the fabric of his shirt in a small, comforting gesture. it was second nature to you, wanting to make him feel better, wanting to lift his mood.

he blinked, as if your touch brought him out of his thoughts, but his expression didn’t change. “i don’t have many layers,” he said quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

you frowned in confusion, unsure what he meant. “what do you mean?” you asked softly, looking up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

“i heard you talking to sarah and john b earlier,” he replied, his voice low, almost strained. “about me... us.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly felt exposed, like you’d been caught in the middle of something you weren’t ready to confront. “oh,” you whispered, guilt pooling in your stomach. you hadn’t meant for him to overhear that conversation, and hearing that he had made you feel like you’d done something wrong.

“i don’t want you to think i’m complicated,” rafe continued, his voice catching slightly. “i’m not made of layers like you think. i’m just me, y/n. i don’t want you to worry about me or... what could happen.” he looked down, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, something in his posture sagging like the weight of the words were too much to carry.

you looked up at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “rafe, i don’t— i don’t want to hurt you,” you said quickly, your voice as sweet and soft as you could manage. “it’s just... i don’t want things to get complicated. i care about you too much, and i don’t know if i can handle—”

you stopped yourself, realizing how much you were saying, how much you were feeling. you could tell by the look on his face that your words weren’t reaching him the way you wanted them to. He wasn’t looking at you with that familiar mischievous grin, but with an expression that made you feel like he was slipping away.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the guilt settle over you.

rafe didn’t speak for a long moment. he just stood there, looking at you as if he was trying to read your every word, your every emotion. finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “i get it,” he said quietly, his voice quieter than you were used to hearing. “i’m just not who you need me to be, huh?” he said it like a statement, not a question, and the hurt in his tone made you feel like you’d said the wrong thing.

you opened your mouth to say more, to explain yourself better, but the words felt stuck in your throat. before you could speak, rafe turned and walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

you stood there, your hand still lingering where it had rested on his arm, the warm glass of apple juice forgotten on the counter. you felt a pang of guilt, the kind that settled deep in your chest. you hadn’t meant to hurt him. you just didn’t know how to explain that you were afraid, that you were trying to protect both of you from something that might tear you apart.

you wanted to chase after him, tell him it wasn’t about him, tell him you didn’t mean what you said in the way he took it. but you knew he needed space, and in that moment, all you could do was stand there, the quiet weight of your unspoken feelings filling the space between you.

you couldn’t help but feel like you’d messed up. again.

it had been three long days since you and rafe last spoke. the silence between you was louder than any argument could have been, and it had only made things worse. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but you couldn’t shake the guilt. you spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, distracting yourself with whatever you could, but it hadn’t worked. all you could think about was him—his quiet voice, his distant eyes when he walked away.

you hadn’t heard from him since that night, and it ate at you. every time you passed by tannyhill or saw him with his friends, your stomach twisted in knots, a mix of frustration and regret.

now, you found yourself sitting on the porch with jj and kie, trying to pretend like everything was normal, but it was impossible. you couldn’t focus on the conversation; your mind kept drifting back to rafe.

“rafe’s right there,” jj suddenly said, nudging you with his elbow. you followed his gaze, and sure enough, there he was, leaning against the fence, talking to some of his friends.

you immediately looked away, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him. “i’m not talking to him,” you muttered, your voice sharp and defensive.

jj raised an eyebrow. “why not?” he sounded genuinely curious, but there was an edge of frustration in his tone. “he’s literally standing right there, y/n. you’re gonna keep ignoring him like this?”

you shook your head, your expression hardening as your frustration bubbled up. “he probably hates me by now, jj. why would i talk to him?”

jj scoffed, clearly not buying it. he leaned in a little, his usual carefree energy replaced by something more serious. “hate you? no way. he could never hate you, angel. that guy’s a mess, but there’s no way he hates you. he just... he just needs you to talk to him.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide how much his words affected you. “it’s not that simple, jj. you don’t get it. he overheard what i said. he heard how i basically told them i didn’t want anything more with him, and now he’s just... gone. he’s done with me.”

jj shook his head, his usual grin fading into a more sincere expression. “you know that’s not true, right? he’s just as stubborn as you are. he won’t come to you because he’s waiting for you to make the first move. he’s been hurt before, y/n, but he’s not gonna give up on you. not like that.”

you stared at him, your throat tightening. “but what if i messed it up too much? what if he doesn’t want to fix it?”

jj’s voice softened, and for a moment, you saw the seriousness in his eyes. “he’ll never give up on you, y/n. i promise. you two just need to talk. you’re both too stubborn for your own good, but you’re also the only ones who can fix it.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t even know what to say to him anymore, jj. i don’t know how to fix this.”

jj gave you a knowing look, his expression softening. “just tell him the truth, y/n. he’s your friend. he cares about you. and you care about him, even if you’re scared of it.” he grinned a little, trying to lighten the mood. “go on, make him listen to you. he’s a big ol’ puppy when it comes to you.”

you didn’t know what it was—whether it was the way JJ had said it or the gentle push from him—but something in you finally snapped. You weren’t sure how things would go, but maybe it was time to stop running away from it all.

With a deep breath, you stood up, brushing the dirt off your jeans. “fine,” you muttered, glancing over at jj. “but if he shuts me down, i’m blaming you.”

jj chuckled and gave you a playful shove as you walked past him. “good luck, angel. he won’t shut you down.”

as you made your way toward rafe, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. this wasn’t going to be easy. you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine. not anymore.

rafe didn’t notice you approaching at first, but when he finally looked up, his expression softened. there was still a hint of distance in his eyes, but something in his posture relaxed as he saw you walking toward him.

you stopped in front of him, taking a deep breath. “rafe,” you started, your voice quiet but steady. “i need to talk to you.”

rafe didn’t speak for a moment, just looking at you like he was trying to figure out what to say. you wanted him to say something, anything, but he just stood there.

“y/n,” he said simply. no nickname, no playful jab. just your name, the way no one ever called you. your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you froze. rafe never called you by your full name. it was always sweet girl or cupcake, something casual, something easy. but now, he was looking at you with that same intensity, only now it felt different. more serious.

it hit you then—he had been listening, really listening, to everything you had said. and you felt it deep in your chest.

“rafe, i... i’m sorry for what i said.”

“i’m just... scared,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. you bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “after my last relationship, i... i don’t know how to do this. how to let someone in, i mean. i was hurt so badly, and i don’t want that to happen again. but i also don’t want to lose you.”

the air between you two felt heavy, charged with everything left unsaid. rafe didn’t say anything at first, just let the silence linger as he took in your words. his eyes softened, and you saw the hurt in them, the frustration from everything that had been left unresolved.

“you never gave me a chance, y/n,” rafe said quietly, his voice full of a tenderness you didn’t expect from him. still, the way he said your name almost made you cry.

“i’ve been here the whole time. i didn’t want to make things harder, but i wanted you to see that i care. that i’ve always cared.”

your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt the weight of his words settle deep within you. you sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “i don’t want things to go back to normal, rafe. i don’t think it can,” you said, your voice tinged with sadness. “i don’t think i can just go back to being... whatever we were before.”

rafe stepped a little closer, closing the space between you two. there was a fire in his eyes now, a resolve that made you pause, holding your breath. “it doesn’t have to be normal anymore, y/n,” he said softly, but firmly. “we don’t have to go back to what it was. i just want one date. just one. to see where it goes. no expectations, no pressures. just us.”

you stared at him, your heart in your throat. it was so simple, so direct, and yet it felt like everything you’d been afraid of. but maybe it wasn’t so scary after all. you couldn’t deny the connection between you two, even if it scared you more than anything.

finally, you nodded, the tightness in your chest easing just a little. “okay. one date,” you agreed, your voice small but steady. “we’ll see how it goes.”

rafe’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile, and you could see the weight lifting off his shoulders. it was like a relief washed over him, and the tension that had been there for so long finally began to fade.

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but lingering. “i promise i’m not going anywhere, sweet girl,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “we’ll figure this out.”

you smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. you had no idea where this would go, but for the first time in a while, you felt like it might just be worth the risk.

you felt the weight of the past few days lift off your shoulders as rafe gave you a reassuring look, and you knew—whatever happened next, you’d face it together.

and just like that, what started as tension and uncertainty turned into something simple and real. one date. a chance for something new.

and maybe, just maybe, it could work out this time.

[potter-head-phanatic]

[potter-head-phanatic]

only you my girl, only you babe

PAIRING: rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

SUMMARY: four times your “enemy” rafe hinted he cares for you and the one time you actually caught on it. OR you thought rafe doesn’t like you because he hates all pogues. little did you know he has always looked at you differently.

WORD COUNT: 6.7k

WARNINGS: drinking, drugs, swearing, blood and wounds, kinda canon rafe (omg kez????), obx cliches (mainly the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing from S1), extremely ‘only soft to you and no one else’ vibes, fluff, angry confessions, heavy pining, mentions of y/n

EDITH SPEAKS: oh. my. god. if you were there on my old blog you would know how long it’s been since I first introduced my idea of writing this fic. I got stumped on it way too often and then forgot about it for months, and then decided to abandon it. But I found it again and I got my inspiration back and now I’m so so happy it’s actually finished!! <3

major thank you to @zyafics who helped me last year when i was writing the fic and helped me brainstorm ideas for it :’) kissing your beautiful mind just like always zya xxx

this really is a labor of love and I genuinely couldn’t be happier 🥹I would highly appreciate all kinds of feedback and reblogs, because they really are extremely motivating and fun to get back to! I hope you enjoy reading, and i hope these 6k words are worth all your time and attention :)

masterlist / join my taglist / requests

PROLOGUE

“Stay off Figure 8!” 

The all too familiar deep voice boomed across the beach, a completely dead silence started to surround the atmosphere. A loud groan was heard along with the unsteady thump of a person falling onto the sand, causing people standing around to gasp. 

JJ struggled to get up from the ground, the big punch he received from the one and only caused his nose to bleed non stop, and when he barely opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of icy cold blues staring back at him. 

“You hear me, Maybank? Stay. Off. Figure. 8. You and all your filthy pogue friends.” 

JJ tried getting up and talking back, he really did, but the one and only Rafe Cameron punched him so hard he lost all his balance. Blood kept on flowing in a never ending fashion, and JJ could see dark spots in his vision, his mind feeling light headed. 

“JJ!”

Rafe froze in his position, not looking up from JJ at the sound of JJ’s name being called out. The voice, the perfume, the general aura of the presence; Rafe didn’t have to look up to see who it was. 

“JJ oh my god please tell me you’re okay,” you mumbled, your voice almost trembling with the worry dripping from your words. You got on your knees and gently cradled JJ’s face, pulling it into your lap as you brushed his hair aside to look at the extent of damage on his face. JJ mumbled something incoherently and you let out a sigh, relieved he wasn’t completely knocked out. 

Rafe stood there on the side, his eyes widened as he saw how your fingers ran through his hair and wiped off his blood, he saw how careful you were with him, he saw how you mumbled small words of sweet nothingness to him. 

Rafe didn’t know what to say, he stood there limply as he watched you help JJ up, let him loop an arm across your shoulders so you could help him walk back to The Cut. 

As he saw you both walk back, he felt his blood boil. The rage built in him slowly like a thunderstorm, his breathing started to become erratic and his fists clenched tightly on his sides. 

“FUCK!” 

Rafe’s foot kicked across an empty beer can buried in the sand, causing it to fly and topple a few meters further from him. 

He wouldn’t have done anything to JJ, heck, he wouldn’t have looked at him if he knew you were on the beach too. 

The look on your face when you saw how hurt JJ was, the concern clouding all over your facial features; from the furrow of your brow to the frown on your lips, he knew you now hated him more than ever. He knew you would never want to look at him ever again. He knew you would never acknowledge his presence ever again. 

He knew there was no chance you would look at him the way he looked at you. 

ONE — THE PARTY

It was crazy.

The lights were neon and bright and they pierced your eyes harshly. The people at the party were almost sticking next to each other, their sweat, weed, alcohol, and an ungodly mix of expensive and cheap colognes being the only thing you can smell. 

You almost gagged as you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd, but you finally did, finding yourself taking deep breaths as you leaned against the countertop of the makeshift bar in the kitchen, letting the awful smell wash away from your nose palette. 

When you started feeling better, you got yourself a nice cold beer, letting the icy liquid run down your throat, sending chills down your spine but in a way you relished deeply. 

It was a scene like any other party; there were people dancing, some catching a smoke break at the side, some making out on the other side, nothing new. 

And it wasn’t anything new when a fight broke out. 

You didn’t know who the boys were who started to fight; all you saw was them go at each other like wolves, their courage mostly coming from the plethora of drugs in their system, profanities after profanities spilling out their mouth, and you were just watching from the side, completely nonchalant about it. 

But you were not so nonchalant when glass bottles were involved in hurting the other; you being in close proximity to the fighting pair resulted in one of the flying broken piece of glass cutting your hand, making you yell out at the sharp pain. The cut looked deep as the blood didn’t stop gushing out, but no one focused on you. Everyone was too busy watching the fight, trying to stop it, or just enjoying it for the heck of it. 

You hissed in pain, your own beer bottle set aside as you squeezed your eyes shut from the stinging pain spreading from your hand to your forearm. The blood started to trickle down from your palm down to the floor, and you had no idea what to do or who to go to. 

It all became a huge mess very quick, you on the side with your hand bleeding, and the rest of the party too busy to peg the immature boys on. 

You felt a tall shadow stalking over you, the scent of the rich cologne all too familiar. 

“That looks bad,” you heard in your ear. 

You turned to be face to face with Rafe. He was stalking down your wound, the blood flow not really stopping as the drops dripped down on the hardwood floor. His expression wasn’t one of worry. But it wasn’t one of detest either. It was just… emotionless. 

“Yeah no shit,” you muttered, looking down at your wound too. 

“Here,” he said, fishing out his handkerchief from his pocket. “This should help for the moment…” he muttered as he gently took your hand and wrapped the handkerchief around your cut. 

You looked at his hands working around your hand, covering up the cut. The pearly white cloth was quickly stained with a deep red of your blood, slowly spreading throughout the cloth. 

“You should get that checked once, just in case you need stitches,” he said, tying a knot to fix the cloth in its place. Just like his facial expression, his voice is also emotionless, monotone words leaving his lips. 

“Why are you doing this?” You couldn’t help but ask, out of all the people, Rafe was there to help you with your wound. 

“Because you’re bleeding a little too much,” he said, taking a step back from you. His hands then buried in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugged at you. 

You looked up in his icy blue eyes, not a single emotion in them. You weren’t sure what to say, finding yourself to be quite stunned which was never really the case; whenever Rafe talked to you, you were always quick to talk back, never letting him be the one who said the last words. 

“Right… thanks,” you muttered, looking down at the securely tied handkerchief around your hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head, and left you alone. 

TWO — THE FAILED DATE

You clutched on the tablecloth out of utter anxiousness, your eyes darting around the room. You took a look at your watch for the umpteenth time, and saw that the time you were supposed to be meeting someone got farther and farther in the past with each passing second. 

It had now been over an hour, the waiters had politely asked you if you would like to eat something, and all you asked for was a simple glass of water, because what if he shows up?

But now you could very clearly see that he won’t. 

You had a date, which unlike the past dates you had been on, really excited you. You thought he was a nice boy, someone you met while you were buying some beer for you and your friends. You don’t remember how the conversation started, but you both used to talk quite often, numbers exchanged and texts sent under the pale moonlight of 3 am. 

He finally asked you out on a date, and you were thrilled, to say the very least. But now, here you were at a fancy restaurant on Figure 8 which you barely got to go to, absolutely impatient as your knee bounced up and down out of anxiousness and embarrassment. 

You felt tears prick your eyes but you were quick to not let them fall, wiping them away from your waterline. You looked down in your lap, your fingers nervously pulling onto each other as the reality of being ditched settled in you. You took another look at your phone, desperate for any text, but there were no notifications. 

But then, you felt the sunlight falling onto you from the window next to you being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe. 

Of course, Rafe, out of all the people. 

He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you; your slightly red eyes and the tears accumulated in them didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Why are you here all alone?” He asked you, still standing in front of you. 

You just shook your head as a reply and picked up your belongings from the table. “It’s none of your business Rafe… I’ll just leave…” you muttered, but before you could do anything else, Rafe sat in the seat opposite to you. 

He took a look at your outfit, noticing it’s something different than the attire you’re usually sporting, something more formal. 

It didn’t take him long to connect two and two together to figure out everything. 

“You got ditched huh?” He said silently. His tone came off condescending to you, even though he didn’t mean to sound that way at all. 

You mentally braced yourself to get embarrassed by him, ready to hear a comment or two from him, because that’s what he did: say rude things to people, especially Pogues, because he felt like it. 

But he didn’t say anything. 

Absolutely nothing. 

You looked up at him, small streaks of tears had started making their way down. “I told you it’s none of your business,” you said, sniffling. 

He only sighed as he leaned back in the chair, watched you carefully as your head hung low, silent sobs escaping you as you occasionally wiped away your tears. 

“Listen, it’s not your fault okay?” He mumbled. You looked up from your lap with your eyes filled with tears. “I know you must be feeling really bad right now, and there is nothing wrong about it, but don’t think too much about it,” 

“I… I got ditched Rafe. I am sitting here all alone in this expensive restaurant crying my eyes out. How can I not think too much about it?” You whispered, your eyebrows creased together. 

He leaned a bit closer to you. “I’m trying to make you feel better…” He said softly. 

“Well,” you sniffled, looking away from him, “I didn’t ask for it, okay?” 

These were the last words you said, before you got up from your chair and left the restaurant, whilst Rafe watched you walk away, wanting to hold your hand and to stop you, but he just couldn’t. 

THREE — THE BEACH CLEAN UP

You looked up at the sun, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you took in a deep breath. The summers only seemed to be getting hotter this time around, and the fact that you were at a beach clean up at noon was not helping your situation. 

You liked to pick up work like beach clean ups in between your main job at the island club so you could make a little side money. 

As you got back to picking up the trash from the beach, throwing it in the little basket you’re carrying with yourself, you looked up to hear some chatter besides the otherwise quiet beach and the other people working quite silently. 

It was a group of Kooks – their expensive clothes and accessories shining under the bright rays of the sun completely unmissable. And in the group of them, a pair of electric blue eyes had its gaze fixed on you intensely. 

You didn’t even know why Rafe was there. Or why the other Kooks were there. They didn’t have any need to participate in these kinds of jobs. Everything was just handed down to them, daddy’s money being what they thrive on.

You ignored them and got back to working, focusing on clearing the trash from the specific area of the beach you were at. Just a few minutes later you felt the sunlight being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe right by your side, separated from his Kook friends. 

You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what, so you peeled your focus away from him and got back to picking up the trash and throwing it into the basket. 

“Here,” he said almost suddenly, causing you to look up at him. “I’ll hold it for you,” he gestured the basket in your hand, and even proceeded to hook two of his fingers into its side, holding onto it.

Before you could have protested, he gently pulled the basket from your hand, causing you to let go of it. You wouldn’t lie, your basket had started to get heavy from the innumerable aluminum cans and other trash sitting in it.

“Thanks,” you murmured under your breath and from the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe acknowledged you with a nod of his head. 

For the next hour or so, you went around picking up the trash and Rafe followed you holding the basket for you as if it weighed nothing, and you kept on dropping the trash in it. It was oddly comfortable, the silence between you two as you weren’t sure what to say – and frankly, you thought that was the best. 

As the clean up came to an end, everyone was sitting in the sand, and light laughter and chatter filled the group. The afternoon had started to turn into evening, the bright rays of the sun turning into something more warm, more comforting instead of burning. You sat in the sand, leaning back on your forearms a little away from the rest, just letting the summer breeze blow past you gently. 

Rafe sat down next to you, and held out something. You saw it was a glass of iced lemonade he got from the little surf shop. 

“You didn’t have to,” you mumbled, eyeing the glass in his hand, the condensation on the surface causing water droplets to slide against the smooth glass. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ve worked all afternoon. Have it, it’s my treat.” 

You took another second or two before taking the glass from him, sipping on the cool, sour yet sweet liquid and allowing it to run down your throat. He remained seated next to you as you both watched the waves crash on the shore, the seagulls flying over and the sun only delving you into a comforting warmth more and more with each passing second, and slurped on your little lemony drinks. 

FOUR — THE TIP

The day was slowly turning into dusk, the bright afternoon light leaving to welcome darker pink and orange streaks cast by the almost setting sun. This was the time when the island club started filling in more and more, the bar being one of the first parts of the club to get exceptionally occupied.

You were busy serving an older woman, your mind completely occupied to make the martini, when out of the corner of your eye, you caught the all too familiar gist of a head of dirty blonde curtain bangs. 

You turned your head to meet Rafe’s blue eyes looking intently at you. The way he was focused on you, his gaze not wavering for even a fraction of a second, and the strong intensity behind them made you feel like the only girl on this planet. Though, of course, that feeling was short-lived when you were snapped out of your daze by a customer calling out for you. 

You were quick to rush over to the customer, who had just finished the drink you had served him. He left the money for his drink where he was sitting and was already making his way out of the club. 

You  picked up the dollar bills to see he paid completely for the drink, but the tip wasn’t even touching the bare minimum. You didn’t know what the reason was, you had been kind to the customer, made his drink perfectly and served it on time, and even presented it as aesthetically as you could. Even then, your tip wasn’t up to the mark. Sighing, you made your way over to the other end of the bar counter where you kept your tip jar, which coincidentally also happened to be where Rafe was sitting. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, eyeing your woeful expression as you were putting the newly received ‘tip’ (if it can be even called that) in the jar. His eyes raked over the jar, and he couldn’t help but find it a lot more empty than it should be. 

“Yeah everything’s fine,” You mumbled, keeping the jar aside. You wiped your hands once on the towel slung in the loop of your apron before looking up at Rafe. “What can I get you?” You asked. 

“A neat whiskey’s fine,” He said and you nodded. You served him the neat whiskey, setting the glass right in front of him. He gave you an acknowledging nod and wrapped his fingers around the glass and bought it closer to his mouth, drinking from it. 

You decided to work around the bar a bit, just cleaning everything up, preparing everything you may need in advance, practically anything you could get your hands at – because anything was better than having to talk to Rafe, who, by the way, didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second. His gaze was firm and jaw was set as he just saw you work around the bar, silently sipping on his whiskey. 

You kept yourself wonderfully distracted as you served the customers and prepared everything behind the bar, but every so often, your gaze would magnetically be pulled back to Rafe, and you would always catch him looking at you. 

When you noticed Rafe’s almost done with his glass of whiskey, you made your way back to him. 

“Another one?” You asked, and he only silently nodded as his reply. You refilled his glass with the neat whiskey, and leaned back against the counter, just simply glancing around the scene of the bar and the club and catching a small break. 

A silence fell over the two of you, the light chatter and the music playing in the club thrumming against your eardrums. Rafe was just silently sipping the whiskey, not saying or doing anything, just sitting there and having his drink. 

“So uh… you’re alone here tonight?” You asked, your words feeling cautious. “I mean, you’re usually here with Topper, or with someone, atleast,”

He set his almost finished glass at the counter, his fingers still wrapped around the clear glass. His gaze found yours, a warm blue instead of the usual icy one sinking into your eyes. 

“Topper was busy,” He muttered, “so I came alone,”

You just quietly hummed at his words, and from the corner of your eye you saw one of your customers finishing their drink and leaving their money on the counter. You went to get it, and when you did, you saw it’s the same thing repeating itself: the ‘tip’. 

You sighed, slightly aggravated as you made your way back to where the top jar was, and dumped the money in it. 

“Will it kill them to just pay something to their bartender?” You sighed, leaning against the counter and tilting your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. Your shift was close to coming to an end and if that’s the money you had to go home with tonight, well, it’d be kind of fucked. 

You could feel Rafe’s gaze on you, but he didn’t say anything, just finished the last sip of his whiskey in a gulp. You were about to ask him for another refill, but you heard someone calling you out. 

You turned around to see it was one of your coworkers, who told you were being called inside. You turned to look back at Rafe, but he just shook his head, and gestured to you to leave. You followed your coworker and went inside to where he was leading to. 

After being freed from the quite useless meetup with your manager, you finally walked back out to the bar after 15 minutes. When you did, you saw Rafe’s stool was empty, and there was money kept on the counter. 

You approached the counter, and the moment you saw the money, your eyes almost fell out from how wide they got. 

Ten crisp hundred dollar notes sat unfolded on the marbled counter along with the money for the whiskey, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. For a second, it felt unreal. You reached your hand out and your fingertips touched the paper, and you realised the money was real. You picked the notes up, your lips parted in shock as you gaze at them. 

Rafe tipped you $1000. 

1000 fucking dollars. 

Your gaze immediately turned towards the exit of the bar, and of course, you couldn’t spot Rafe – you had completely missed him. 

You carefully kept the notes in your tip jar and sealed the jar shut. Through the glass, you couldn’t remove your gaze from the notes, your mind now completely clouded with Rafe, and his tip. 

ONE — THE BROKEN DOWN CAR

You let out a frustrated groan, kicking the tyre in utter vexation, which helped you release just the tiniest fraction of your rage. You fished out your phone from your pocket just to see it was nothing more than a dead device, serving you no purpose. You almost had the urge to throw the phone, but you stopped yourself at the right second, because you realized, you can’t afford to hear the sound of the glass screen cracking. 

Instead, you just kicked a pebble in your path and slumped against the side door of your beat up car which decided to stop working halfway across your journey from Figure 8 to the Cut. You were at the side of the road, watching other cars and vehicles pass by as you sat there on the roadside, not having a single clue on what to do. 

10… 15… 20 minutes passed and you were still in the same position, not knowing what to do and not making any effort to find out either. The road fell silent a few minutes ago, no vehicles crossing, but the silence was short lived when you heard the revving of an engine from the distance, and it came to a stop right next to you. 

An all too familiar red and black bike stood next to you, the rider’s face covered by the helmet. But the bike, the gold signet ring on the index finger of the left hand, and the taut muscles peeking from under the t-shirt were more than enough to confirm who it was. 

The helmet came off and Rafe’s piercing blue eyes found yours. 

“What happened?” He asked, getting off his bike as he ran a hand through his hair, his curtain bangs pushed back momentarily before they fell down on both the sides of his face in a ragged middle part just like always. 

“My car broke down,” you muttered as you looked up at him. 

“Hm.” 

He rounded around you and lifted the cover of the engine, holding it up with one hand as he inspected the engine carefully. You watched him intently, trying to figure out what the expressions on his face meant, but there weren’t any to begin with. It was a face so cold and plain, suiting well with the cold blue eyes. 

“There’s some issue with the battery. You most probably need to get it replaced.” He declared, letting the cover fall back in its place. 

“Oh great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words as you threw your head back against the door of your car. “That’ll probably cost nothing, won’t it?” 

Rafe caught the sarcasm of your words very well but didn’t comment anything, just wiped the dust off his hands as he gazed down at you. 

“Come on,” you heard, and as you looked up, you saw he was holding his hand out for you. “You were probably going back home yeah? I’ll drop you.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off the next instant. 

“No ifs, or buts, or ‘Rafe’s, you hear me? You’re letting me drop you off, and are letting me take care of this,” he said, gesturing to your car. “I’ll call a mechanic who’ll get your car towed from here and will work on it. Now come on, none of us have got all day.” 

By the end of his words, you knew whatever you’ll do is equivalent to pointless, so you gave in. You gently held his hand and helped yourself up from the road, brushing a hand over your clothes as he led you to his bike parked aside. 

Rafe put his helmet on top of your head and adjusted the strap, and you heard a faint click as it fixed in place. You wanted to ask ‘what about you?’ when the only helmet was now sitting on your head, but you decided against it. He mounted the bike and gestured to you to do the same, revving the engine twice or thrice before taking off. 

He was definitely faster than what you had expected, and you couldn’t help it when you gripped the sides of his t-shirt, fisting the crisp material in your fingers to provide yourself some stability. For a second, he took one hand off the handlebar and reached for your hand scrunching his t-shirt. He gently took your wrist and you let go of the fabric in the process, allowing him to tug your hand and place it on his waist. Your other hand followed suit, and both of your arms were firmly wrapped around his waist. His hand landed back at the handlebar, and he only sped up more, the wind whipping past you at a phenomenal speed. 

The ride to The Cut came to an end when Rafe reached your home, and you didn’t want to admit to him or to yourself, but you felt it was short. The ride was nothing short of exhilarating, the wind whipping past your skin, and the way your arms found purchase around his waist gave you the comfort you needed. 

You got off the bike, firmly planting your feet on the ground as you did so, and Rafe’s hand instinctively wrapped around your arm to make sure you remained stable. You carefully took off the helmet and handed it back to him. 

“So uh,” You muttered, clearing your throat subtly, “thanks for the ride. Really,”

He shook his head, kicking the stand of the bike in place and allowing it to lean on one side. “Don’t worry,” He said, still sitting on the bike. 

“You, you really didn’t have to,” You said, your fingers intertwined with each other behind your back. 

“And do what? Leave you alone at the side of the road? With a broken down car and a dead phone?” Rafe sighed. “I wasn’t gonna do that y/n, you know that,”

You know that. 

Yeah you do. 

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as a small silence fell over you two as none of you said anything, and you kept on contemplating how you could possibly return such a massive favor. 

“You…” You began, your voice low, the words on the tip of the tongue feeling experimental, “you wanna come inside for a moment?”

Rafe’s response didn’t come out the very next second, and that small pause felt like years to you. 

“Sure,” He said, getting off his bike. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded, leading him towards your place. 

“It’s nothing big…” You muttered as you climbed up the stairs of the porch and he followed suit, watching you unlock the front door. “But it’s home, I guess.”

Knowing he had grown up in the richest part of the island, surrounded by everything he could possibly need and want, you had a feeling he’d definitely make some snarky comment. Cause isn’t that what he did? Rafe Cameron: the Kook prince, but also the biggest asshole?

But he was completely silent when he followed you inside and only quietly sat down on the couch you led him to, which you definitely were shocked to see, but nevertheless you didn’t really let it show on your expressions. 

“So uh…” you began to speak, wanting to break through the awkward air around you two, “anything you’d like? Water? Or some tea maybe?” 

He shook his head silently, and a moment later, gestured to the empty seat next to him. 

“Come sit,” he said, words simple and direct, no beating around the bush, just like always. 

You took a sweet moment to let his words settle in you, but when you did, you walked up to the couch and sat down next to him, a small distance maintained between the two of you. Your gaze remained fixed on your shoes, your hands perfectly intertwined in your lap, and your habit of pulling onto them – something which only tended to happen you felt really anxious – came back. 

The awkward air was around you two again, settling over you two like a blanket that is way too warm for hot weather, making you feel uneasy and has got you squirming for any sort of cooling. 

“Why do you do that?”

There it was. 

It was out. 

You blabbered out the question as if it meant nothing, when in reality, it carried so much more weight than you could possibly ever imagine. 

When you were met with silence for a moment, you looked up, and saw Rafe sitting with his hands on his knees, his own gaze fixed at something on the floor. What was it exactly – you couldn’t tell. 

When he still didn’t speak anything, you decided to take the chance. 

“You’re always… there for me, in one way or the other. You patched my hand up at that party weeks ago, when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You saw me crying to myself when my date didn’t show up and came up to me when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You helped me at the beach clean up and carried my heavy bin for me when you could’ve ignored the situation. You saw my lack of tips and paid me a massive one when you could’ve ignored the situation. You could’ve always ignored the situation, Rafe. Just like you always do with the other Pogues. With them, you don’t care for even a damn second. But… why are you doing so much for me?” 

The silence kept on greeting you, and you could feel yourself beginning to get impatient. Your gaze flickered over Rafe, and you didn’t miss the way he flexed his fingers over his knee, as if gripping it tightly. 

“I, I don’t know…” He mumbled weakly. You had never heard his voice take such a softer tone. It’s as if you didn’t even know it existed. 

“What– what do you mean you don’t know?” You sighed, turning your body a bit so you could face him. “That’s fucking ridiculous Rafe!”

“It’s not ridiculous I just can’t explain it the way you wish I could–”

“Well you should be able to cause I need explanations–”

“Not everything can be given a logical explanation come on–”

“Yes it can if you try hard enough–”

“I care for you okay!”

His words were loud, much louder than any of his previous words. Their loudness and conviction shut you up right at that moment, your eyes widening, and your lips slightly parted as you stared at him with a look of disbelief in your eyes. 

“I–I Rafe began, running a hand through his messy bangs, and you had to control the urge to run your own fingers through them and gently push them out of his eyes, “I don’t know why, but I just can’t stand the thought of you being hurt, or being sad, or going through any discomfort. I just can’t okay? Each time I see you that way I– I immediately get to solving it cause I can’t bear to see you all troubled. I don’t want to see a single scratch on your skin or– or a single furrow in your brow I just… want to see you happy. Cause you look... so so pretty when you’re smiling, y/n, it’s… it’s unexplainable,”

A silence fell over you two as you let his words sink in you, which was a lot harder than you’d like, but you were doing it. 

“And i just… wish that one day… you’d smile that pretty smile of yours because of me,” He murmured, “because I made you smile,”

You could see Rafe’s own words taking a massive toll on him, just as it was taking on you. You parted your lips to say something but you were just so horribly stumped, you couldn’t utter a single word. 

He ran a ragged hand through his hair once again and stood up, clearing his throat. 

“I should leave now,” He muttered, standing in front of your seated form but not facing you, but instead facing the door. Your own gaze was fixed at the floor, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping loudly in your eyes, his words repeating over and over like a broken record in your mind. 

You didn’t say anything to stop him, so Rafe silently walked out the door, closing it behind himself with a silent click. 

You were left all alone in your living room, Rafe’s weighted words lying heavy on your heart and mind, and the distant noise of his bike’s engine revving a bitter reminder that he wasn’t next to you anymore. 

Just two days later, when you woke up in the morning and looked out your window, you saw your car parked. Not only was the battery replaced, a whole paint job was done, the ripped car seats were replaced with some fancy leather, the tyres were exchanged for upgraded ones, and for a second, you didn’t even recognise your own car. 

You noticed a piece of paper held in place by the windshield wiper, and when you went outside and took the piece of paper and unfolded it, you saw a small phrase scrawled in black against the white of the paper. 

don’t mention it. – R.C.

EPILOGUE  

You let out a deep sigh as you watch him laugh, patting his friend’s arm in the process. A smile of pure contentment crosses your face, watching the rays of the bright, afternoon sun hit his bare skin and making it shine, his muscles seeming more pronounced than ever. 

You watch him turn around and glance at you over his shoulder, his smile wide as he gives you a flying kiss. You can’t help but chuckle at the endearing action, causing you to send one his way too. He lifts up two fingers in the form of a peace sign and gestures to his friend next to him, silently conveying to you that he will be by your side in just two minutes. You give him an understanding nod and watch his head turn back to the front, getting delved into the conversation with his friend again. 

You sip on your drink as you lean your head back, the sound of the boat rushing past the waves of the ocean filling your ear drums deeply. You close your eyes and just listen to the sound of waves, your mind shutting out the chitter chatter of the conversations of the other people on this boat. 

Soon enough you feel the sunlight being blocked and as you open your eyes, you see him standing right in front of you, a smile on his face. The chain around his neck along with the little gold capital letter of your initial hanging from it catches the sunlight and gleams more than it usually does. He sits down next to you and silently wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You smile as you lean into him, your fingers going immediately to fiddle with the chain, feeling the edges of the cool gold initial under your fingertips. 

You take a glance up at him, running your other hand along the side of his now buzzed head, feeling the short, prickly hair gently tickle your fingers. 

“Are you having a good time so far?” He mutters softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your head tucking in the crook of his neck. 

“Yeah, yeah I am,” you say quietly, your fingers mindlessly continuing fiddling with the gold initial on his chest. “You?” You ask, slightly lifting your head up from his neck. 

“Oh, the absolute best time,” He says softly, looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face. “We’re on our boat, and I’m with my gorgeous girlfriend, what else could I need?”

You can’t help but softly chuckle at his words, silently shaking your head as you lean your head against his shoulder again and resume fiddling with the chain. You do it often, almost each time you get your hands on him, and he loves it; feeling the occasional brush of your fingers against his skin and the gentle tugs on the chain. 

He allows you to relax against him completely, his arms around you to keep you close to him as you both sit silently, only the sound of the water and the light chatter of your friends accompanying you two. 

“Thank you,” Rafe says softly, his fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. 

You furrow your brows at his words, slightly confused, as you look up at him. “What for?” You ask. 

Rafe only keeps on gazing at you, a gentle smile pulling his lips. He quietly shakes his head, and with a gentle pull, he allows you to rest against him again. 

“Nothing.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Everything.” 

Your own lips can’t help but upturn in a small smile too. “Well, in that case…” you murmur, leaning back to look up at him, one hand coming to rest against his cheek as you gently caress the soft skin, and you slowly lean in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. 

“Thank you,” you mumble softly against his lips. Rafe’s hands grip your waist and he pulls you closer, not letting you pull back from the kiss. His fingers splay across your back as he kisses you, his lips moving in an unhurried, tender motion against yours. 

A moment or so later, he pulls back, his eyes opening by just a fraction. You let your arms hook around Rafe’s neck, keeping him close to you. 

“You’re the only one for me, Rafe,” you mumble quietly. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want.” 

He leans his head against you and takes a deep breath, your scent and the smell of the ocean around you filling his nostrils deeply. 

You both let the moment just simply sink in you, the sun rays bathing you in the warmest light, along with the presence of each other, which might be warmer than the sun any time of the day. 

“Only you, my girl,” he mumbles quietly. “Always and forever.” 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @khaisdrz / @weirdowithnobeardo

specific tags for this fic: @writingmeraki / @ghoslyethastaryn / @congratsloserr / @helloloverz / @littlelamy / @eolsens / @wtfdudesblog / @jkrafe / @onlyrealjoy / @husherstan / @lilithblackkk / @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @b1mb0slvt / @nemesyaaa / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @jjsbank444 / @ladyinbl00d

[potter-head-phanatic]

He made it moment.

[potter-head-phanatic]

LOOK AT HIM MY PRECIOUS ANGEL