jj was sprawled across the hammock on the chateau porch, one arm hanging off the side while pope argued with kie over some dumb board game rule nobody actually cared about.
you sat cross-legged on the wooden steps, stealing fries out of john b’s carton while pretending not to notice the way people kept looking between you and jj lately.
it had started as a joke.
one stupid joke.
jj had thrown his arm around your shoulder at the boneyard one night and called you “baby” loud enough for half the island to hear, and suddenly everyone decided you were together.
and honestly neither of you corrected them. “you know kelce asked me if we were dating today,” you muttered.
jj snorted from the hammock. “what’d you say?”
“told him you cry after one beer and have severe mommy issues.”
“wow.” he placed a hand over his heart dramatically.
“you do cry after one beer.”
“only emotionally.”
pope groaned. “please stop flirting. some of us are trying to win.”
“jealous?” jj shot back instantly.
you laughed softly, shaking your head.
it was easy with jj. always easy. people saw the touching, the teasing, the way he always looked for you first in every room, and made assumptions.
the pogues especially which was exactly why none of them noticed when your phone buzzed with a text that made your stomach flip.
rafe: outside.
your heartbeat immediately sped up. you stood too quickly. “uh — i gotta go home for a sec.”
kie narrowed her eyes. “at nine?”
“my aunt needs help.”
jj looked suspicious for exactly two seconds before shrugging. “bring me back chips.”
“using me for my body.”
“using you for sour cream and onion, actually.”
you flipped him off affectionately before hurrying down the porch steps. and the second you rounded the side of the house there he was, leaning against his bike in the dark, black tee clinging to his arms, silver chain catching in the moonlight.
Rafe Cameron looked unfairly pretty at night. “you took forever,” he said.
“my friends exist, rafe.”
he grabbed your wrist the second you got close enough, tugging you between his legs where he stood beside the bike. “missed you.”
your face warmed instantly. “i saw you yesterday.”
“still missed you.”
his hands slid around your waist like muscle memory, and god, this was exactly why the rumors about you and jj were so convenient.
nobody suspected a thing because if the pogues found out you were secretly hooking up with rafe cameron? especially jj? absolute disaster. “you know everyone thinks i’m dating jj now,” you murmured.
rafe rolled his eyes immediately. “yeah, heard about that.”
“you jealous?” his jaw ticked which was answer enough and you grinned. “aw.”
“don’t start.”
“you are jealous.”
“i just think he touches you too much.”
you barked out a laugh. “you literally have me pinned against a bike right now.”
“different.”
“how?”
“because you’re mine.”
the words came out low. automatic. like he didn’t even realize he’d said them. your stomach flipped violently. rafe noticed your expression and immediately looked away, muttering, “whatever.”
“rafe.” you reached up, forcing him to look at you again. “that was kinda cute.”
“shut up.” he was blushing. actually blushing. you started laughing so hard he grabbed your face with one hand. “keep laughing and i’m leaving.”
“you adore me.”
“unfortunately.”
then he kissed you ,slow at first.
which nobody would believe if you told them, because rafe cameron acted meaner than he actually was. but with you, he always kissed you like he had something to prove and something to protect at the same time.
your fingers curled into his shirt when headlights suddenly flashed down the road. you both jerked apart instantly. “shit,” you whispered.
rafe glanced toward the street. “is that —”
“jj’s van.”
“you’re kidding.”
panic exploded through your body as the van got closer. “hide.”
“hide where?”
“i don’t know, rich boy, figure it out—”
before you could finish, rafe grabbed your waist and pulled you behind the side fence just as jj’s van rolled past slowly.
the window was down and for one horrifying second jj looked directly toward the yard.
your breathing stopped, rafe’s hand tightening on your hip. the van paused then finally kept driving. silence. you both waited another few seconds before exhaling at the same time.
“that was close,” you whispered.
rafe looked down at you, lips twitching slightly. “kinda hot though.”
you smacked his chest immediately while he laughed quietly against your forehead.
rafe isn’t usually a morning person, but today he’s already up before you.
you notice the second you scramble into the bathroom, still half asleep, hair a mess, his old shirt swallowing you while he stands in front of the mirror, working at the buttons of his cuffs with concentrated look that makes your belly feel funny.
he looks so different like this. so put together and serious. important.
“rafey,” you mumble softly, voice still thick with sleep. his eyes flicker to you in the mirror immediately, his expression softening just a little at the sight of you leaning in the doorway in one of his t-shirts.
“morning, baby,” he says, voice low, rough in that way it always is when he’d rather be sleeping but has to wake up cause as he claims wants to make a fortune for the both of you.
you wander in slowly, your bare feet padding against the floor, and without even asking, you hoist yourself up onto the bathroom counter beside him. it’s become routine at this point, it's your spot whenever he’s getting ready.
he doesn’t even question it anymore. just shifts slightly so you have a little space, his hand coming to rest against your thigh like he needs to touch you without thinking.
you swing your legs gently, watching him adjust his tie, brows slightly furrowed in concentration.
“you nervous?” you ask softly. he lets out a quiet huff through his nose. “not nervous.”
you look at him trying not to giggle. “a little nervous.”
his lips twitch at that, but he doesn’t argue. instead, he glances at you through the mirror again, fingers smoothing down the front of his shirt.
“it’s just a meeting,” he mutters.
“a really big meeting,” you correct gently, leaning forward to tug lightly at the knot of his tie, fixing it where it looked a bit crooked. “don’t downplay it. you’ve been working toward this for months.”
he watches you through the mirror while you fix it, something soft in his eyes.
“it always looks better when you do it,” he murmurs quietly.
you smile a little at that, pleased with yourself before leaning back to where you were before.
“i packed your lunch,” you say casually, swinging your feet again. “sandwich, the chips you like, and that weird little protein bar that's disgusting.”
he lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath, shaking his head slightly.
“sweetheart,” he mutters, big blue eyes glancing at you again. “you didn’t have to do that.”
“i wanted to,” you reply simply, like it’s obvious. because it is.
you study him for a moment, taking in the way he looks today, hair styled perfectly, sleeves rolled up a touch, freshly shaved. there’s something about seeing him like this that makes pride swell in your chest.
“I'm so excited for tonight,” you add after a moment, voice happier now. “you promised dinner, remember?”
his hand slides from your thigh to your knee, squeezing it gently.
“didn’t forget,” he assures you.
“good,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “i already picked out what i’m wearing.”
he raises a brow slightly. “yeah?”
“yeah,” you grin, leaning into him. “and you’re gonna like it. a lot.”
that earns a smirk from him, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“i already do,” he murmurs.
you giggle at that before launching into the next thing on your mind without thinking twice, literally acting as if he doesn't have a meeting and the two of you are gonna sit here talking all day.
“oh! speaking of tonight, you will not believe what happened yesterday,” you start, settling more comfortably on the counter. “topper and ruthie got into it again, and i swear, rate, it was over the dumbest thing.”
he glances at you through the mirror again, clearly half listening while sliding his watch onto his wrist. “what now?” he asks, voice distracted but he's still interested in what you have to say.
“topper forgot to pick her up,” you explain, eyes widening for dramatic effect. “again. and she made this whole speech about him not respecting her time, and he just stood there like he didn’t even know what day it was.”
rafe laughs quietly under his breath at that. “sounds about right,” he mutters.
“and then sarah tried to fix it but somehow she made it even worse,” you add, shaking your head. “i swear, this friend group is a mess.”
he lets out another quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he finishes adjusting his cuffs.
“yeah, well,” he murmurs, stepping a little closer to you now, his hands sliding naturally to your hips where you sit on the counter. “at least you’re not the messy one.”
you smile softly at that, leaning forward just enough that your forehead brushes lightly against his.
“i’m proud of you, you know,” you say quietly.
that stops him. his hands tighten just slightly on your hips, his expression shifting into something softer than before.
“yeah?” he asks, voice lower now. you nod once. “yeah. you’ve been working really hard for this. you deserve it.”
he doesn’t answer right away. just looks at you for a long moment like he’s trying to memorize the way you said it, like he wants to remember it forever.
then his hand slides up slightly, fingers brushing gently along your jaw before he leans in and presses a soft kiss against your temple.
“thanks, baby,” he murmurs quietly. you smile, leaning into him for a second before pulling back with a small, playful grin. “ just don’t mess it up,” you tease lightly.
he huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “not planning on it.”
you hop down from the counter then, smoothing your hands down his shirt before stepping back to admire him. “you look really good, rafey,” you add with a proud little smile. “like so scary and important.”
he smirks, reaching out to pull you closer one more time before he leaves. “better be ready by seven tonight, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear.
the headboard slams with each sloppy thrust of jjs hips into yours, you were in the bedroom of the chateau that jj had claimed as his own and you two practically shared since you were over so often. The other pogues were in the living room, right outside listening to everything. thin walls.
“Mmph- jackson”
only you were allowed to call him jackson.
“yea- fuck gonna make you cum f’me mama”
You guys have been going at it for 45 minutes straight now. 4 rounds. On your fifth now, you both tired out but still have stamina some how, sweat glistening on both of you guys foreheads and heavy breathing, not even bothering to go under the sheets because of the fact that john b never replaced the shitty ac and it was one of the hottest days in july, and the bedroom.
One of jjs hands rests on the headboard, a failed attempt at quieting the sounds of the lovemaking going on to their friends, the other grabbing at your tits, this man loves your tits, constantly grabbing at them anytime he could, always picking out low cut tops and small bikinis for you to wear just to admire your chest.
Suddenly you hear your favorite sound ever from jj.
He moans.
You love it when he moans, not holding back and being extremely loud to anyone within whatever space you guys were doing it in. jj has a tell. Whenever he gets close he starts moaning and whimpering, dropping his head down, resting his forehead on your shoulder and making those unholy sounds directly in your ear.
Fuck, it was so hot.
His sounds push you closer and closer to your climax, before you know it the heat in your stomach finally explodes into an orgasm that washes over your entire body, your legs shaking and back arching off the bed as you cum.
But suddenly, on his last thrust, jj moans and you hear a snap.
Suddenly you two are wrapped in a pile of sheets on the floor. You're both still breathing heavily and jj lets out an out-of-breath laugh,
“We broke the fucking bed!”
“And I'm pretty sure I broke my back,” you groan and stand up.
Apparently the sound attracted the pogues because once you guys got mostly decent you opened the door to sarah, john b, pope, cleo, and kie all standing outside the door.
“dude what happened?!” john b asks
“We broke the fucking bed!” jj exclaims.
Safe to say you two ended up falling asleep on jjs floor shortly after getting lectured by john b about the cost of buying a new bed frame, maybe one made out of metal would survive until you and jj move out.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who noticed you the first time you walked into the room with sarah. your laugh soft, with that twinkle in your eyes. the second sarah caught him looking, her expression shut down instantly, a quiet, sharp “no.” like she already knew exactly where his mind was going.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who actually listens to sarah at first. keeping his distance, barely looking at you, forcing himself to treat you like just another one of her friends, but it doesn’t last, because every time you’re around, his attention drifts right back to you like it’s a magnetic pull.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who starts with those subtle glances again, quick at first, then slower, heavier, and you always catch them, always hold his gaze just long enough to make his jaw tighten, but your glance is of annoyance, knowing his reputation.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who talks about you like it’s nothing to topper and kelce, brushing it off, but your name comes up a little too often, his tone just slightly different, gaze a little love struck enough for them to notice.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who finds reasons to be in the same space as you, walking into rooms you and sarah are in, leaning in the doorways, making annoying comments on the things you're both doing, or hovering just enough to get your attention without making it obvious.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who realizes real quick you don’t treat him like everyone else does, rolling your eyes, brushing past him, muttering a quiet “fuck off, Rafe” when he blocks your path, and instead of backing off, it only makes him push more, his forbidden fruit.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who tests the line constantly by standing too close in empty hallways, letting his hand brush yours, watching you carefully like he’s waiting for you to pull away, and noticing when you don’t.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who ends up alone with you one time and doesn’t move out of your way, head tilted, smirk slow, “you’re different when sarah’s not around.” and something about the way you don’t deny it? yeah, that’s where it clicks for him.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who somehow gets your number and starts texting you, casual at first like it’s the most insignificant thing in the world, then with purpose and he sees the exact moment you stop pretending you’re not interested, and he steals the opportunity with quickness.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who corners you in the kitchen when the house is quiet, voice low, stepping into your space like he’s been waiting for this “i know what you’re doing, right” a small tilt of his head, “what do you mean?” you reply. his eyes flicking to your lips, “this little game” and when you don’t walk away, his lips find yours, closing the distance.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who who wasn’t supposed to cross that line, but now that he has, there’s is absolutely no going back. he keeps it secret at first, saying things like a quiet “come here,” slipping you down hallways and into his room, the door shutting quick behind you like second nature.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who always keeps one ear out for footsteps, but still lingers, still keeps you close a second longer than he should, like he physically can’t help it.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who, right before you leave his room, grabs your wrist and pulls you back in for one more second, forehead resting against yours, “you’re trouble,” he mutters, and when you whisper, “you started it,” he just smirks satisfied “oh and i’m not stoppin’ sweetheart.”
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who tries to fix your hair before you leave, straightens your clothes, with a low voice right by your ear, “you’re fine baby, just act normal.” like he didn’t just make that impossible, like that ‘baby’ didn’t just make you weak at the knees.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who acts like nothing’s happening in front of everyone, barely looks at you but somehow, you both always disappear at the same time at parties, reappearing minutes later like nothing happened, and no one suspects it, because you act like you hate him in front of people.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who actually catches you staring at him across the room and doesn’t look away this time, just smirks knowingly. later, when he finally gets you alone, he leans in close, voice low “keep lookin’ at me like that in front of everyone, and see what happens.”
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who thrives off the secrecy of it. the risk of it all, the way you both have to listen for doors opening, or voices getting too close. and the way you come back flustered every single time, rambling excuses.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who brushes past you in a crowded room, fingers grazing your lower back just enough to make your stomach flutter, and without even looking at you, he mutters, “meet me upstairs in five.” and the worst part? you always go.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who watches you text the groupchat, “can’t today, next time!” while you’re sitting right next to him, and that smug little smirk settles, with that proud pit in his stomach like he’s saying ‘yeah, she chose me.’
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who overhears some assholes at the country club talking about how they want to hook up with you, and has to control himself from becoming his old reckless self again. but smirks saying “i think she’s taken” with a shrug
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who texts you while you’re sitting right next to sarah with no shame, phone buzzing in your hand,
rafe: you look prettyand when you glance up, he’s already watching you, eyes low, leaning back like nothing’s wrong
you: you’re gonna get us caughtrafe: that’s the the risk of the game
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who tells himself it’s just a fling at first, you’re just sneaking around, or it’s just something to pass time. but he keeps coming back, he keeps pulling you aside, he keeps wanting more than just a few minutes, and even a few minutes to him isn’t becoming enough anymore.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who gets irritated when you pull away, questioning what you’re doing. his jaw’s tight, voice lowering out of hurt and annoyance, “you’re still here, aren’t you?” like that alone proves you feel it too.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who starts blurring the lines without even realizing. spending more time and longer nights together. the moments becoming more intimate until you both realize it’s not just a fling anymore.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who shows up to your house one night with hibiscus flowers, because you briefly mentioned once you liked them. acting like it’s the most normal thing, given your ‘situation’ but he’s watching your reaction a little too closely for it to just be nothing.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who starts taking you out, but always somewhere off the obx, on the mainland, somewhere no one will recognize you, no chance of it getting back to sarah, or any of your other friends.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who is still cocky and a little dangerous, but softer with you in ways he doesn’t even realize, like it just natural.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who loves when you start soft launching him on instagram, with pictures like your hand in his, or his chain, or his shoulder, but never his face. just enough to have people asking questions, and people, including sarah asked many questions.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who overhears people talking about your ‘mystery man’ and just leans back, smirking to himself, because they have no idea it’s him, the one person it shouldn’t be.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who kinda treats it like a game, sneaking around, and he loves how long you both get away with it.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who starts getting more careless over time, holding onto you a little longer, looking at you a little too openly, sending winks your way, like he’s slowly caring less about who finds out.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who realizes he’s in too deep when it stops feeling like a game and starts feeling like he wants it to be his normal, like he doesn’t just want secret moments anymore, he wants all of it, he wants people to know you’re his.
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who gets a little jealous when someone’s talking to you too long, stepping in casually, arm brushing yours, “she’s busy,” he says smoothly, eyes not leaving yours, then quieter, just to you, “or you forgot that?”
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who doesn’t care he’s just did that in a crowd of people, “are you fucking insane?” you ask him, shocked he would defend you like that so publicly, he leans down to your ear, his lips almost brushing your skin, “pretty girl i dont give a fuck who’s watchin’ anymore.”
bsfriendsbrother!rafe who knows you’re hesitant because of sarah. he knows that once she finds out all hell will break loose. she’ll be angry about the line you crossed the second you let him even touch you. but would rather deal with sarah’s anger, than pretend he doesn’t want you and everything that entails you anymore.
𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: in which you being Sarah Cameron’s best friend having a crush on her brother , you , Sarah , rafe and some of his friends head out for a tan and beach day , which turns heated after the trip
𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈 :Bsfbrother!Rafe Cameron X F!Reader
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: 18+ Mdni , fingering ( f! Receiving) , semi public sex , cursing , Smut , open ending ? ( might have a part 2 )
You’d been staring at Rafe for the past ten minutes like he was the only person in the entire backyard.
His hair had grown out nicely .
no more of that severe buzzcut he used to rock.
The longer, sun bleached strands fell messily over his forehead, and every time he ran a hand through them, your stomach flipped.
He looked taller, broader in the shoulders, the muscles in his arms flexing under his tight t-shirt as he laughed at something Kelce said.
The man had filled out in all the right ways, and damn if your body wasn’t reacting immediately.
You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing heat between your legs.
Sarah’s sharp elbow to your ribs nearly made you yelp.
“Ow!” you hissed, rubbing the spot.
Topper and Kelce glanced over with raised eyebrows, but Rafe didn’t even look up.
He stayed relaxed in his chair, legs spread wide, the picture of effortless dominance.
Sarah smirked, leaning closer.
“Why don’t we take the yacht out? It’s been forever since we’ve been on the water.”
She turned to her brother with that sweet, manipulative smile she knew worked on him.
“Come on, Rafe. Please?”
Rafe’s blue eyes flicked from his sister to you.
The intensity in them made your breath hitch.
You weren’t paying attention to the conversation anymore, you were too busy memorizing the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his gaze darkened when it lingered on your body.
Heat crawled up your neck.
He exhaled through his nose, pretending to be annoyed.
“Fine. I’ll get the yacht ready.”
Sarah squealed and immediately grabbed your wrist, dragging you upstairs to change.
You both slipped into bikinis ,hers a classic red, yours the pink polka-dot set that made you feel dangerously confident.
By the time you stepped back outside, the boys were already down at the dock.
The yacht bobbed gently in the water, tied securely to the cleat.
Topper and Kelce were bickering loudly over the engine, shoving each other like overgrown children.
Rafe turned around the moment you approached and froze.
His eyes raked slowly down your body, taking in every curve the tiny bikini barely contained.
The way the fabric hugged your breasts, the high cut of the bottoms that showed off your hips and ass.
You watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard.
For a second, it looked like his brain had completely powered down.
Sarah hopped onto the yacht first. Rafe offered her a hand politely, but when you stepped up, his large palm settled firmly on your waist instead.
His fingers splayed across your bare skin, warm and possessive, pulling you closer than necessary.
The touch sent electricity racing through you. Sarah shot him a suspicious side eye, but he ignored her completely.
The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter, music, and splashing water.
But as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in deep oranges and pinks, the others started heading back.
Kelce, Topper, and Sarah tied off the yacht and disappeared into the house, their voices fading up the lawn.
You stayed behind, sitting on the floor of the yacht with your legs dangling over the edge, watching the sunset.
The gentle rocking of the boat and the warm breeze felt peaceful.
Until Rafe dropped down beside you.
He sat so close his thigh pressed against yours.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke.
Then his hand landed on your knee, sliding slowly upward, fingertips tracing the inside of your thigh.
One thing led to another… fast.
Now you were straddling his lap, your bikini bottoms shoved aside as two of his thick fingers thrust deep inside your soaked pussy.
His thumb worked tight, relentless circles over your swollen clit.
You were trembling, hands gripping his broad shoulders, head tipped back while shameless moans fell from your lips.
“Fuck, you’re incredibly wet,” Rafe groaned into your neck, voice low and rough.
His mouth latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard through the thin pink fabric until you cried out.
The wet heat of his tongue combined with the steady thrust of his fingers had you seeing stars.
Your hips rolled desperately against his hand, chasing the pleasure.
The coil in your stomach tightened unbearably.
“Rafe— M’gonna cum—”
He didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he curled his fingers, hitting that perfect spot inside you while his thumb pressed firmer.
His free hand gripped your ass, guiding your movements.
The tension snapped hard.
Your thighs shook violently as you came, a broken moan tearing from your throat.
Rafe kept pumping through it, drawing out every last wave until you were panting and boneless against his chest.
You buried your face in his neck, trying to catch your breath.
He kissed along your jaw and throat, surprisingly gentle after how filthy he’d just been.
“Yo, Rafe! You coming inside or what?!” Kelce yelled from the garden, squinting through the dim light.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in a sec !” Rafe shouted back, voice husky.
He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, deliberately dragging them along your sensitive folds before wiping them on the front of your bikini bottoms with a smirk.
He pressed one last lingering, open mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, then stood up.
As he turned to leave, he paused, looking back at you with dark, hungry eyes that promised so much more.
“Meet me in my bedroom tonight” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear.
“Late. After everyone’s asleep. Don’t make me wait, baby.”
He gave you one last heated look before climbing off the yacht, leaving you flushed, half naked, and already throbbing with anticipation on the gently rocking deck.
YOU ACTIN' LIKE I LEFT YOU — rafe cameron x bunny!reader
you’re curled up in your bed like the world ended, wearing the strawberry pajama set he always teased you for. mascara’s smudged. your nose is pink. your heart feels like it’s cracking in half over something that shouldn’t matter this much. but it does. pancake is gone.
he’s been missing since this morning and you’ve checked everywhere—under the bed, in the hamper, behind the bookshelf, even the kitchen trash in a brief moment of unhinged panic. you can’t sleep without him. you can barely breathe without him.
so when rafe finally walks through the bedroom door, soaking wet from running through the rain, flashlight in hand and irritation in his voice, you don’t even lift your head. you just sniff, quietly, dramatically, like a disney princess having a breakdown in the third act.
“you’re seriously cryin’ over this thing?” he says, and his voice isn’t cruel, just confused. like he doesn’t get it but he also kind of does. you peek up from your blanket cocoon and whisper, “he’s gone, rafe.”
he stares at you. the wet hair. the little pout. the glitter-covered lighter still sitting on your nightstand. and he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “you’re actin’ like i died.”
“he smells like you,” you say, soft and wrecked. “and the sheets. and when you used to sleep here every night. and now i don’t know where he is and i feel like… like someone unplugged me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a second. then he walks over slow, like you might bite. sits down at the edge of the bed and just watches you. not judging. not rolling his eyes. just… watching.
“you lost your bear,” he says finally, voice lower now, “and you’re actin’ like i left you."
you shrug. your lip trembles. “feels like the same thing.”
and something in him shifts.
he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t tease. just slides his arms around you, tugs you into his chest, and rests his chin on top of your head.
“you could lose every stupid bear in the world,” he mutters, “and i’d still be here.”
“you promise?”
“yeah. i promise. i’ll rub my hoodie on a new one and call it pancake two or somethin’. make it smell like me. yell at it a little so it’s accurate.”
you laugh into his t-shirt. it’s not that funny. but it kind of is. because it’s him.
and for the first time all day, you feel like maybe you can sleep again. even if pancake’s still missing. even if everything’s not fixed.
