#Walking on Sunshine

[sunshinehaze1]

Walking on Sunshine

Pairing: dog walker!Frankie x f!reader

Summary: Fortunately for you, Frankie sticks to a consistent schedule when walking the neighbor’s dog.

Warnings: Mature. meet-cute, fluff, Frankie with dogs

a/n: This was written for @punkshort AU August Writing Challenge. I was given the prompt of a dog walker Frankie AU. Thank you to @80ssong for the beta read and @ak-vintage for letting me bounce around title ideas. 🫶🏻

word count: 1,597

ao3 | ml

Frankie found himself in a fortunate position where his cut of Lorea’s money could sustain him for multiple lifetimes. Despite this financial security, Frankie was a man who couldn’t stand idleness. It was in his nature to keep himself occupied, so he’d visit the hangar to help his friends with repairs and pilot helicopter tours to keep up with his flight hours. Despite his busy schedule, Frankie still managed to find time during the week. Ever since he was young, he has had a strong love for dogs, and the feeling is mutual. To fill his schedule, he started working as a dog walker. It got him outside in the fresh air, with the added benefit of exercise, and allowed him to spend time with a variety of dogs. Frankie has always wanted a dog of his own, especially now that he has retired from the Army and could dedicate the time to train and bond with a new companion. He wanted to wait until his daughter was older, and now that she’s just turned six, he feels ready to commit. Until then, dog walking has helped fill the void.

You were confused when you first saw Frankie walking your neighbor’s dog in front of your house. Having moved into the neighborhood just a couple of months ago, you knew the other dog owners in the area and would have remembered Frankie. Your move started a new chapter in your life following the end of a tumultuous relationship that had run its course. From your desk, you had an unobstructed view of him—his broad shoulders visibly stretching the fabric of a fitted grey shirt, soft brown curls peeking out from under his ball cap, and the cutest butt as he walked past your house. You noticed over the following days that he walked by at the same time—a man with a consistent schedule, which you appreciate. With the hope of a chance encounter, you adjusted your schedule slightly for your mid-day walks with your dog. In the following weeks, you and Frankie exchange polite head nods and waves as you pass each other on opposite sides of the street. 

Your last morning meeting ran long, causing you to start today’s walk late, and you were worried you’d miss seeing Frankie. You put in your AirPods, queued up the latest episode of your favorite podcast, locked up, and headed out. It’s a hot day with the sun blazing, so you encourage your dog to do their business quickly as you feel sweat beading on your back. As you walked, immersed in your podcast, you were distracted by something across the street and didn’t notice Frankie heading your way. It took you a minute to realize Frankie’s charge had gotten loose from its leash and was making a beeline to greet your dog. Frankie runs after the dog, calling its name, and stops short right before you. You barely manage to catch your breath seeing him this close. Seeing him from afar did not prepare you for how handsome he was up close. You take in his bright smile, soft eyes, angled nose, and chiseled jaw patched with a scruffy beard. Frankie apologizes for his charge getting off the leash, but you assure him it isn’t a big deal as the dogs were getting along just fine, as evidenced by their friendly sniffing and wagging tails. You and Frankie introduce yourselves and exchange the dogs’ names. Frankie squats down to say ‘hello’ to your dog, who greets him with relaxed ears, an excited tail wag, and an eagerness to lick Frankie’s face—a promising sign since your dog tends to be more reactive towards unfamiliar men. Frankie chuckles as he stands up, knees creaking. 

He mentions that after seeing you for the past couple of weeks, he’s happy to put a name to the face finally. You feel his gaze slowly drifting up and down your body, admiring you. His smile grows wider when he notices you look down, trying to avoid his gaze. The heat of the sun and Frankie’s eyes burning into you have become too much. You suggest moving out of the sun and invite Frankie for a refreshing lemonade on your covered porch. You still have half an hour before your next meeting. He graciously accepts and follows you back to your place. He takes a seat while you head inside to get the drinks. You are pleasantly surprised that your dog stays with Frankie, which makes you think he must be a good person since dogs are pretty good judges of character.

Thankful to be out of the direct sun, you learn more about Frankie and why he decided to start dog walking. You discuss your work and how you appreciate the flexibility of working from home, allowing you to spend time with your dog and take midday walks. The thirty minutes pass quickly, and you’re disappointed that you have to cut your conversation short. Frankie has a sweet and funny personality, is charming and confident, and you find his voice captivating. You could listen to him read the phonebook. 

Frankie thanks you for the drink, and you exchange goodbyes. As he retreats from your porch down your driveway, you try not to stare for too long, admiring his figure and how he carries himself. Suddenly, he pauses and turns around. You’re worried that you've been caught staring, only to confirm it when you look up and see a smirk on Frankie’s face. Encouraged by your admiration, he steps closer and asks, “I’ve enjoyed this, and I’d love to continue talking. Could I have your number?” 

You can't help but smile brightly as you answer with a resounding "yes." You ask for his phone to add your number to his contacts. When Frankie takes his phone from you, his fingers brush over yours. The contact flusters you, and you attempt to compose yourself, hoping Frankie didn't notice. With a smile that reaches his eyes, he descends the porch stairs with a second goodbye and a promise that he'll be in touch. You watch as Frankie returns to your neighbor's house, and you head back inside to finish your workday.

A few weeks passed, and Frankie started joining you on your walks. You find yourself at ease with Frankie. He’s told you about his time in the army, what inspired him to become a pilot, and his daughter. You loved to see the twinkle in his eyes when he talked fondly of his daughter and told you about their latest adventure or funny things she said. He mentions his desire for a dog, that he’s ready to look at adoptable dogs, and plans to surprise his daughter. Despite going on many walks together, he hadn't made any moves to ask you out. Feeling frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands and make a suggestion.

“Frankie, the animal shelter where I adopted my dog, has several currently available. Would you like to meet them and grab a drink afterward?”

Frankie was impressed by your confidence and thrilled that one of you had finally made a move to shift this relationship beyond these walks. Not that he minded them; quite the opposite, he’s had a great time getting to know you and enjoys being in your presence. But it was time to see if things could progress. 

“That would be great! I would love that. My daughter is with her mom this weekend; how about Saturday? I can come by to pick you up.”

You smile demurely and reply, “Saturday would be perfect. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Awesome, it’s a date!”

You’re surprised by how quickly the week has passed, with Saturday arriving in the blink of an eye. It's been hard to contain your excitement. You've dressed casually in a pair of jeans that hug your curves and a scoop-neck top that is low enough to offer a peek of your cleavage. You wanted something practical yet still made an effort to look good, especially considering you'll go from playing with dogs to a bar afterward.

It had been some time since your last first date, and you anxiously waited for Frankie to arrive. Thankfully, his truck pulled into your driveway right on time. You appreciate his punctuality, as you were on the verge of letting your nerves get the best of you. Frankie is a good guy, and you’re excited about the potential, especially after your last relationship. You swing the front door open just as Frankie begins to knock, his tightly clenched hand frozen midair. You both smiled, caught each other's eyes, and let your gaze wander. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at you, “U-uh, WOW, you look great!” Your cheeks warmed as you heard his sincere compliment, feeling flattered to receive it while wearing such a casual ensemble. Imagine what his reaction would be when you’re dressed up. You thank him sweetly. 

After you lock up, Frankie leads you to his truck with his hand lightly touching the small of your back. He opens the door and helps you into the car as you lift yourself onto the running board and into the truck. Frankie finds it hard to look away from the sight of your figure in your tight jeans. He hopes that this date goes well and that he will meet a dog that strikes him with the same lightning bolts he felt when he first saw you. He’s excited to discover what the future has in store for him. 

Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Walking on Sunshine 4

Sister series to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Warnings: non/dubcon, antisocial behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: God The Bounty Hunter x reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You have your muffin with tea. It’s a special treat for the night even if it remains confounding. With every bite, you can’t help but think of that man. His piercing blue eyes bore into your soul and his silence piques your curiosity. 

The question you can’t help but ask over and over is why you? Why is he leaving you muffins? And seemingly, why is he following you to the cafe?  

The question follows you to bed. Most nights, you’re tired enough to pass out just before ten, watching some crafting video or another. Often, you wake up to the idle screen of your laptop. Not that night, your sleep is splintered by the ghost of your waking hours. 

As you get ready for work, pulling on a loosely crocheted cardigan over a light blue plaid dress, you think of him. You try to place him. Is he new? You don't think you've seen him before. You aren’t exactly the most observant; apparently, he’d been following you and you didn’t notice. 

You put on a pair of socks with scalloped tops and some well-worn oxfords. You check your work bag to make sure everything’s inside and grab your travel mug of tea. It’s a new flavour from your sample pack; sweet pear. 

You take your usual route to work. You can’t help but glance over your shoulder as you do. You doubt he’d be hanging around that early. Besides, he’s not a stalker. He just wanted to give you the muffin. 

You yawn as you enter the office building and wait for the elevator. You blow over the lid of the thermos. The tea won’t be cool enough to drink until you get to your desk and untwist the cap. You have your routine. Your boring, repetitive routine. 

You near your desk as a few early comers settle in. The smell of coffee wafts in the air as you hear the single-serve machine grinding over the lazy clacking of keys. You put your thermos down and pause.

You look over your chair, turning it slowly as you examine the arm. This isn’t your chair. There’s a piece missing out of the arm rest, a chunk you can’t help but pick at but this arm is brand new, the whole seat is a different style. The wheels don’t squeak. 

You look around. Maybe the cleaners switched it up by accident. Hard to say who they would switch it with, you don’t exactly go around checking out chairs. You go around to examine your neighbours to see if it was a simple switch. Nope. 

You peer around and blow out through your lips. You don’t want to be accused of trying to acquire someone else’s chair. It looks new, almost like one of the ones from the managers’ offices. You really can’t be on the wrong side of the higher ups. You get by on your invisibility. The job is safe so you play it safe. 

You spin the chair. No squeaking, no creaking. The fabric looks as pristine as the rest of it. A seat should not cause so much concern. 

Your neighbour appears and drops their bag beside their desk. You glance over at their dark hair, barely getting a glimpse before they set off for their first coffee of the day. Dark roast. You can tell by the smell. As they strut away, either unaware or or deliberately ignoring your existence, you assume the latter, you stay standing, staring at the mysterious chair. 

“You don’t like it?” A gritty voice startles you as a figure appears from behind the next group of cubicles. 

It’s him. That man. He crosses his arms as he watches you. He wears a grey button up and corduroys a shade darker. His tie is skinny with a flat end. His square jaw is shadowed with stubble and his hair is unstyled but not messy, a short trim along his forehead. 

“It’s not mine,” you utter bluntly. 

“Expense report was approved. It’s yours,” he insists. 

“You?” You wonder. 

He gives a short nod and unfolds his arms, standing staunchly across from you. You look down then back at him. “Thanks, but, you didn’t have to.” 

“I did,” he counters. 

You don’t know what to make of him or his responses. Or the chair. You gulp and once more examine the cushy backrest, touching it, squeezing it’s firm but soft padding. 

“The muffin was goo--” you look up and he’s gone. What the heck? This is getting really strange. If it wasn’t for the very real chair in front of you, you might think he’s a ghost. 

Your cubicle neighbour returns and sets his cup down. You don’t miss the pointed way his eyes flick across you before he sits. He must think you’re talking to yourself. You do your best not to do that at work. If you can help it, you try not to make much noise as his sighs and grumbles keep you on edge. 

You shrug and roll the chair back. You sit. No squeak! Your neighbour doesn’t huff. You pull yourself smoothly towards the desk and boot up your computer. This is nice, but you’ll have to figure out who your kind benefactor is. You owe him a million thanks, and you have a million questions. 

[paprikaries]

"Radio Stressed The Tv Star" _ wip sketched Fanart: Vox the tv demon / Alastor the radio demon (Spindlehorse/Vivziepop/Amazon) I'm working on somethiiiiiiing.... WOOOOOooooo.... It's 6:30am and I was up all night..... Woooohooooooohshit I need to rest.

[cranberrymoons]

walking on sunshine

prompt: pool (@steddiemicrofic) word count: 442 rating: m to be safe notes: hi! i was doing some writing exercises and ended up with an accidental second entry for the july prompt 😅 no promises on if I'll edit it down further, but enjoy! (cw - drinking)

[also on ao3]

Steve surfaces, skin gleaming bronze and dotted with so many moles and freckles that Eddie feels like his molars are aching with how badly he wants to sink his teeth into him. He shakes off the water then smooths a hand through his hair and down over his face, wiping the chlorine from his eyes as he paddles to the edge of the pool and folds an arm against the baked surface of the patio. He gives Eddie a slow, easy smile, using a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Hey,” he says, squinting into the glare. “Pass me a beer?”

Eddie blinks, mouth dry. When he doesn’t respond, Steve gives him a weird look and uses both arms to hoist himself out of the deep end. This, of course, is astronomically worse: Eddie’s eyes are fixed on the flex of his triceps, the arch of his back, the tiny… tiny shorts.

Steve pads toward him, bare feet slapping against hot concrete, and he bends to flip the top off the cooler. He bends to flip the top off the cooler. And then he gives Eddie a look over his shoulder– Eddie, who is definitely not staring at his ass in those tiny, tiny shorts– and he smirks. 

Evil. 

Like a demon.

“You want it?”

Eddie releases a sharp breath. He casts a look around the pool deck, where the kids are taking turns on the diving board. 

“Do I want…”

“It,” Steve says again. He bends over further, rummaging through the cooler. “A beer.”

“A beer,” Eddie repeats, voice faint. “Right.”

“Yeah, what did you think I meant?”

Steve straightens up with two cans in hand then tosses one to Eddie, who barely manages to catch it as he watches Steve pop the tab on the other. His throat bobs as he drinks, and Eddie’s eyes track a bead of water that’s sliding down his neck and into the little puddle in his collar bone. 

Bite, lick, suck. God, Eddie just wants to get his mouth on him.

“You okay?” Steve asks with an amused arch to his smile. “You look a little…” He makes a vague motion with his hand, fluttering through the air.

Eddie clears his throat, sitting up straighter. 

“Hey Buckley,” he calls, raising his voice slightly to be heard from where she’s laying out under the sun a few paces away. “We’re going inside for some... snacks. Be back in a few, okay?”

She squints over at them, sunglasses pushed up on her forehead, then rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, sure you are,” she says, waving a hand at them before dropping back down. “Horny bastards.”

[adastraperasp3ra]

no thoughts

just ice nine covers

[myself-being]

Everytime i see this drawn i made, my brain start playing walking on sunshine in loop. I love it even more for this! You can find this fanart here, if you like it! There's also the red version here!

[80s-song-smackdown]

80 New Wave Tournament Side D

[tuesdaynightmusicclub]

Tuesday Night Music Club No. 15 - 'Walking On Sunshine' by Katrina and The Waves

[polish-lolita]

[bevanne46]

Walking on Sunshine by AGF Studio https://www.fatquartershop.com/walking-on-sunshine-quilt-free-pdf-pattern-art-gallery-fabrics?sscid=91k8_3uwfs

[lilslanted]

Good morning.....

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Walking on Sunshine 1

Sister series to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Warnings: non/dubcon, antisocial behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: God The Bounty Hunter x reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hum as you enter the break room. The aroma of dark roast tickles your nose as your eyes narrow in on the kettle. You’re not much of a coffee drinker, you're one of the few in the office who enjoy the packets of hot cocoa they keep in the big glass jar. You keep a stash of your own special flavours in your desk for particularly dull days.

As you cross the room, you slip and throw out your arm to keep from landing on your butt. You set your feet straight, gripping your mug tight as you’re near-shatter experience courses through you icily. That was too close.

You look down at your feet and the small puddle of coffee there. How irresponsible. Someone spilled and didn’t even clean it up. You could’ve been really hurt. In fact, you think you pulled something.

You take careful steps and trade your mug for the roll of paper towel. You set to cleaning up the mess, sopping it up with the cheap two-ply. You take a handful of soaked paper towels and dump them in the bin. You rinse your hands and flip on the kettle, shaking off the last of your adrenaline.

You tap your fingers on the counter top as you wait for the water to boil. You take one of the cardboard stir sticks and keep the rhythm against the brim of your cup. The apple-shaped mug is one of your favourites, though a bit more teacherly than office dweller.

You tear open a packet as the kettle begins to tremble. You let out a few lyrics without thinking as the dang earworm won’t leave your head. “I used to think maybe you loved me, now baby, I’m su-u-ure…’ You’re not much of a singer and it’s terribly off key but you could dance right there.

You pour the powder into your cup and add the hot water. You switch between singing and humming the words you don’t know. The chocolatey smell tugs at your empty stomach and you lift up your mug happily, turning on your heel only to stop short.

Your lyrics almost turn to a scream as you find someone watching you. You’re embarrassed to think they witnessed your little karaoke session. You give a sheepish smile and adjust your grip on the mug handle.

“Uh, hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear… I didn’t think anyone else was around,” you eke out, swallowing a giggle at yourself.

The man just stares. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. You’re choked by his stagnant silence. Your cheeks twitch as you fight to hold your smile in the wilting tension.

“Anyway…” your voice quakes, “it’s all yours, I’m just going to go back to my desk.”

You slowly cross the floor, watching him as his eyes follow you. There’s no expression around his alert eyes. He’s just staring. At you. Gaze following you diligently to the door. You smile a bit bigger before you dip out into the hallway.

His blue irises are stamped into your mind. Brilliant and bold. Eyes that say much more than he did.

You think you recognize him but don’t think much about it. The office is big and it feels like you see new faces every day and forget just as many. You’ve never been very good with names either.

You finally catch your breath as you get back to your cubicle. The unusual encounter flits away as you refocus on your work. You wiggle your foot and fidget in your chair, the squeaking of the old wheels drawing the agitated sighs of your neighbour. You still and glance over as a streak of colour distracts you.

That girl again. The one in the bright sweater. Her clothes are so cute. Your own style is eclectic in a different way; thrift store chic, you call it. You smile as her bubbly gait bobs a few rows down from you and she disappears back into the corporate zoo. 

You haven’t made any work friends, people just seem to tolerate you but she seems cool. You’re a bit too shy to introduce yourself as you think you have a few years on her. You don’t want to come off desperate or anything.

You exhale wistfully and make yourself go back to your emails. You really need to stop getting so easily off track. You can’t handle another poor performance review. 

You swivel back and as you go to rest your chin in your hand, you nearly yipe. Your eyes round and you sit up straight. That man! He’s watching you again. He sips from a gray mug as your lips part cluelessly. Why is he doing that?

You look over your shoulders, checking if perhaps he is looking at someone or something else. There’s nothing but a cubicle wall. You turn back and he’s gone. Huh?

You’re thinking too much. He probably just saw something else. Besides, people don’t notice you. Only when you do something wrong.

You swallow and look down at your hot chocolate. You lift it and blow over the top, tentatively sipping from the hot porcelain. Mmm, it always makes everything better. 

[legitedigiulia]

Hot Monday at the South Downs june 2024, Amberley It's always worthy walk through the South Downs.

[velvet-ebook]

I’m walking* on sunshine*

*hallucinating

*trazadone

[supermarket-goblin]

Me : *Going about my day*

My internal radio host : And here comes an oldie but a goodie, remembered all the the way from the beginning of the film 'Daddy Daycare', it's 'Walking on Sunshine'!

My internal radio station : "I used to think maybe you love me-"

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... morning music ...