#frank would see something flying and go to look
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Weird AU idea: Crossover AU between Minecraft and Welcome Home. Those bitches gotta kill some dragon to get back home IDK. I can see many shenanigans with this concept
Mainly made this up because I had a dream the Warden from Minecraft and Julie Joyful met (Julie was not enthralled for obvious reasons) (tbh it was more a nightmare DX)
bold of you to assume their Goofy Asses could get anything done, let alone kill the ender dragon
#theyd get to the nether after 85 years of trying#only for wally to kill them all & destroy their progress by placing a bed#howdy would somehow have Everything They Need but he refuses to sell it unless they have reallly specific stupid items to trade#he's like a wandering trader but 100x Worse#frank would see something flying and go to look#frank: omg is that a butterfl- *Frank Frankly Has Been Slain By Vex*#barnaby would dig himself a dirt house and refuse to do anything more#eddie would be busy building an elaborate garden#julie'd collect every animal for funsies#sally would master redstone to create elaborate Entertainment Devices#poppy wouldn't leave her house or her 58 furnaces all of which are in use#wally would just sit at a loom and make pretty banners#and Nothing Would Get Done#even if they Tried to accomplish goals you and i both know#it would derail Immediately#theyre too silly.#rambles from the bog#welcome home au#If i get the motivation ill definitely scribble something for this#currently head is empty on what i'd doodle hence the Lack Of Art on this post#i just thought of the effort it'd take to like#scribble minecraft armor... tools... environment things... ouagh too much Too Much#tonight has tired me out :/#but yes... many shenanigans... feel free to share the shenanigans You have in Mind
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Best Day Ever - Franco Colapinto x Reader
Summary: Oscar's win and Franco's first points have to be celebrated. With her best friend Lando playing matchmaker and the tension between Y/N and Franco simmering, the night promises to be anything but ordinary. Sparks fly on the dance floor, but is Y/N ready to admit what’s really going on?
Warnings: Questionable fashion choices from Charles, Jealous Franco
A N - okay so I never write but I couldn't help myself. another one lol. I adore this man, I really hope he'll get a seat next year:)
_______________________
I slipped into Lando’s hotel room, dodging the chaos of clothes strewn everywhere and the blast of upbeat music. As expected, the room was a disaster—a tornado of outfits scattered around, and Lando stood in front of the mirror with two shirts, looking deeply conflicted.
“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I teased, dropping my bag on the bed and watching him as he inspected each shirt like it was a life-or-death decision.
Lando turned, giving me a dramatic sigh. “You don’t get it, darling. As tonight’s DJ, I need to look the part. No one’s gonna take me seriously behind the decks if I look like shit.”
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yes, because that’s exactly why people come to the club... for your shirt.”
He dramatically held up the two options for me to judge. “So? Bright white to make my tan pop? Or black for mysterious, sexy DJ vibes?”
I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled out my dress. “The real question is, how long until you spill something on it?” I shot back with a grin.
Lando grinned right back at me, tossing the white shirt aside. “Good point. But now, your turn. What are we working with tonight, Y/N?”
I unzipped my bag and pulled out the stunning red dress I’d been waiting to wear. It was the kind of dress that would turn heads the second I walked into the club. Lando’s eyes widened dramatically when he saw it.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer to inspect the dress as if it were a priceless artifact. “What’s the occasion? Trying to murder Franco tonight or what? Because if I were him, I’d be dead on the spot.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignored the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s not for him. I just like looking good. Is that a crime?”
“Oh no, not at all,” Lando said, smirking. “But let’s be frank. Or should I say ‘frank-o’? Get it?”
I rolled my eyes again, groaning at his pun. Classic Lando.
Lando sighed dramatically at my lack of enthusiasm but pressed on. “Anyway, you’ve been on Franco’s mind all weekend. The way he’s been sneaking glances at you? Totally adorable.”
I slipped behind the dressing screen to change. “Franco sneaks glances at every girl. It’s his thing.”
“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Lando leaned against the screen like he was sharing the world’s best-kept secret. “You’re the only one who acts like you don’t care. He finds it irresistible.”
I emerged from behind the screen, giving Lando a look. “I’m not here for his ego trip. I’m here to celebrate Oscar’s win. Now help me zip up, please.”
Lando smirked, walking over to help with the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against my back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. That’s why you wore that dress. Totally not because of Franco.”
“Do you ever shut up?” I teased, adjusting the straps of my dress as I looked in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was more confident than I felt. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, making me feel bold despite the nerves bubbling in my chest.
Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his black shirt and pulled it over his head. “Just trying to help. You’ve got something going on with Franco, and I—your devilishly handsome sidekick—am here to make sure it happens.”
“There’s nothing going on,” I insisted, straightening the hem of my dress. “It’s just banter.”
Lando gave me a playful wink. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But tonight, when he sees you in that dress, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Man’s going to be speechless.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re in denial,” he shot back. “Now, let’s get going. The club’s not going to know what hit it.”
I grabbed my purse, shaking my head with a smile as we headed for the door. No matter how much Lando teased, there was something about his playful energy that always put me at ease. He knew how to turn any situation into a joke, and even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, the thought of Franco seeing me tonight had me feeling a little more excited than I should’ve been.
“Ready to knock ‘em dead?” Lando asked as we reached the elevator.
I smirked. “Let’s dance, baby.”
Lando grinned, pressing the button for the lobby.
.
The second we stepped into the club, I could feel the shift in energy. The bass was pounding through the floor, neon lights flickering in rhythm with the music, and a sea of people already swaying to the beat. It was one of those nights where you could tell things were only going to get wilder as the hours passed.
Lando, naturally, was beaming as he led us toward our reserved table, his usual confidence on full display. “This is going to be legendary,” he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to make some memories?”
I smirked, adjusting the strap of my dress. “If by memories, you mean watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, then absolutely.”
Lando wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Just wait until I start playing some tracks. You won’t know what hit you.”
As we approached the table, George was already making himself comfortable, adjusting his collar like the proper gentleman he always tried to be, while Alex slid in beside him, looking equally ready to unwind after the weekend.
“This place,” George mused, his eyes scanning the scene, “positively buzzes. I might even have to loosen a few buttons tonight, fellas.”
Alex laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh no, George Russell, loosing up? What is the world coming to?”
Before George could respond with one of his comebacks, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Max, Daniel, and Charles—each of them making an entrance like they owned the place. Max, already sipping on a gin tonic, had that relaxed grin he only ever showed when he was off-track, while Daniel was bouncing with energy as usual, ready to bring chaos. Charles, however, had topped them all, not only wearing his patchwork pants, but also sporting a pair of ridiculous neon pink sunglasses that instantly made me burst out laughing.
Lando, seeing Charles in all his glory, was quick to point out the obvious. “Alright, who let Charles dress himself? Where is Alexandra when we need her?”
Charles just grinned, pushing the sunglasses further up his nose. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Norris.”
Daniel, never one to miss a beat, clapped me on the back as he slid into the booth next to me. “Looking hot tonight, Y/N. I’m pretty sure jaws will drop.”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “It’s just a dress, Daniel. Let’s focus on the real star of the night—Oscar.”
Oscar, ever the quiet one, gave me a sheepish smile from across the table. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Lando interjected, throwing an arm around Oscar. “You’re the man of the hour! We’re celebrating you tonight, mate. And Franco when he shows up of course.”
Max, already in full party mode, flagged down a waiter with a confident wave. “Gin tonics all around—and something stronger for Oscar. What do you say?”
Oscar chuckled awkwardly as Daniel threw an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah, mate. Time to get wild.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as Max and Daniel continued to heap praise on Oscar, who was clearly not loving being the center of attention.
“He needs more than one drink for that,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “Oscar’s more the ‘quiet observer’ type.”
“That’s exactly what makes it more fun,” Lando added, his grin widening. “He’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when he’s going to blow.”
Just then, the drinks arrived. Daniel raised his glass, holding it high for the group. “To my favorite fellow Aussie,” he declared, causing Oscar to smile awkwardly as Daniel continued, “And to a night we’re definitely not going to remember.”
“Cheers!” we all echoed, clinking glasses.
Max wasted no time, clapping Oscar on the back. “No sitting tonight, mate. Come on, time to dance.”
Oscar looked wide-eyed for a moment before Max and Daniel each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him onto the dance floor. He glanced back at us with a look that screamed help me.
I laughed as I watched Oscar get pulled into the chaos. “Well, there goes Oscar.”
Lando grinned, leaning in closer. “You know what Oscar needs to loosen up?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, not this again...”
“Tequila.” Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, we’ve got shots to retrieve.”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar, dodging people along the way. It was like Lando had some sort of radar for causing trouble, and tonight, tequila was at the center of his plans.
We reached the bar, and with a few charming words from Lando, the bartender handed over a full tray of tequila shots.
“Think this is enough?” I asked, eyeing the tray suspiciously.
Lando gave me a mock-serious look. “Not even close.”
As we carried the tray back to the table, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of our friends still tearing up the dance floor. Max and Daniel were already locked in some sort of ridiculous dance battle, while Charles, still sporting his horrible sunglasses, was swaying with his gin tonic in hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oscar’s going to die out there,” I chuckled, shaking my head.
“Not if the tequila kicks in first,” Lando smirked, placing the tray down on the table.
Just as we settled back at the booth, the door to the club swung open once more, and in walked Carlos and Franco. Carlos, as always, looked effortlessly sexy, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to make every girl in the club swoon. But Franco? My heart skipped a beat when I saw him—his eyes immediately locking onto mine with that intense, playful glint that I was starting to recognize all too well.
He looked different tonight—glowing from the inside out, like the weight of proving himself had finally been lifted. The victory of his first points in F1 suited him. His confidence was always there, but now it had this newfound depth that made it impossible not to notice him.
Lando, ever the instigator, nudged me under the table, trying to hide his grin. “Look at your man, glowing,” he whispered with an exaggerated wink.
“Shut it,” I muttered, though my pulse had quickened at the sight of Franco.
As they made their way over, the group welcomed them with cheers and raised glasses. Carlos slid into the booth beside George, while Franco took the seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re late,” I teased, lifting my shot glass in his direction.
Franco grinned, his gaze flickering from the glass to my dress and back to my eyes. “Fashionably late, of course. You know how it is.”
“Always with an excuse,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
Franco leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for me to hear. “Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance. Catch someone’s attention.”
Under the table, Lando kicked me again, even more subtly this time, though his grin was anything but subtle. I shot him a look, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.
“You’re not fooling anyone,” I said, keeping my tone light as I shook my head at Franco. “Nice try, though.”
Franco chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”
Lando’s face lit up, his grin widening as he picked up one of the tequila shots. “Before we do anything else, we need to make a toast.”
Alex, George, and I exchanged glances as Lando raised his shot glass high, his voice carrying over the thumping music. “To Franco, for getting his first F1 points!” he declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He’s officially no longer just a pretty face—he can drive, too!”
Everyone laughed, Franco shaking his head with a mock roll of his eyes, but there was no denying the pride shining in his green eyes. He raised his glass, meeting Lando’s playful grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar flirty edge as he glanced over at me. “It’s about time I caught up.”
“To Franco!” Lando repeated, and the group joined in the chorus, clinking glasses before throwing back the shots.
The tequila burned, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my pulse race—it was the way Franco’s eyes lingered on me
“So,” Franco began, his voice low and smooth, “do you always look this good when you go out? Or is this just for me?”
I raised an eyebrow, trying my best not to smile. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Lando too much. His cockiness is rubbing off.”
Franco chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Maybe. But I’m serious. You look… incredible.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You say that to every girl, Franco.”
His grin widened, leaning in just enough to make my heart race. “Not like this. And not to every girl.”
It was the way he said it—calm, confident, and undeniably sincere—that made me falter. There was no denying the effect his words had on me, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.
“Nice try,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, determined to stay unbothered. “But I’m not falling for it.”
He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who said I was trying anything? I’m just telling the truth.”
Carlos was still engrossed in conversation with Lando, leaving me to handle Franco on my own. Lando, however, didn’t miss the exchange, and I felt a not-so-subtle nudge from him under the table. “Told you,” he whispered, barely hiding his grin. “He’s got it bad.”
I shot Lando a look but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. Franco wasn’t making this easy.
“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.
Franco’s smile turned playful, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dance, maybe. If you’re up for it.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “In your dreams, maybe.”
“Trust me, cariño,” Franco said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine, “I’ve had plenty of those already.”
I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. Franco’s flirty nature wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different—more direct, more intentional. And the Spanish- oh my days.
Before things could escalate further, I decided to save myself. I stood abruptly, grabbing Lando’s arm. “I need to dance,” I announced, pulling him up with me. “Come on, Norris. Let’s go.”
Lando blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, flashing Franco a smug grin. “Later, Colapinto,” he called as I dragged him toward the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back soon.”
Grabbing Lando’s arm, I dragged him out of the booth and into the center of the dance floor, determined to drown out the tension with music and laughter.
“Whoa, easy there!” Lando exclaimed with a grin as I pulled him into the mass of bodies. The bass was so strong I could feel it reverberate through the floor and into my chest. Neon lights flickered over the crowd, casting everyone in shades of blue, purple, and red.
“I need to dance!” I shouted over the music, spinning him around as the beat dropped. “Get your head in the game, Norris!”
Lando, always ready for a bit of fun, didn’t miss a beat. “You’re lucky I’m the best dance partner you could ask for!” he laughed, immediately pulling me into a ridiculous salsa move that made me burst into giggles. His over-the-top style was exactly what I needed to shake off Franco’s intense gaze.
We danced together in sync for a while, Lando’s antics drawing more laughter from me than I’d had all night. He was twirling, dipping, and making exaggerated poses with every beat, reminding me how effortlessly fun it could be to just let go.
“You’re a nightmare,” I teased, dodging one of his particularly dramatic moves as he spun me around.
“And you’re loving every second of it!” Lando grinned, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looked.
For a few blissful minutes, I allowed myself to get lost in the music. The lights, the crowd, and Lando’s contagious energy made everything else fade into the background. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Franco.
Even with the mass of people between us, I could feel his eyes on me. I stole a glance toward the bar and, sure enough, there he was, standing with Carlos, Alex, and George, his eyes fixed on me like a magnet. The intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Stop staring,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to push the thought away. But even as I laughed it off, I couldn’t deny the way my heart sped up when I caught Franco watching.
Lando twirled me again, pulling me close to shout over the music. “Franco hasn’t stopped looking at you all night!”
I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. “That’s just Franco being Franco. He’s like that with everyone.”
“Uh-huh, right.” Lando shot me a knowing grin. “Just with everyone? Come on, Y/N, you’re not fooling me.”
I groaned, pulling away slightly as we continued to dance. “Can we not talk about him right now? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”
“Sure, sure,” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you know he’s watching, right? Might as well give him a show.”
Before I could respond, Lando grabbed my hands and twirled me into a dramatic dip, making me squeal with laughter. It was ridiculous and playful, exactly the distraction I needed. But even as I danced, I couldn’t fully shake the sensation of Franco’s gaze burning into me.
Eventually, the heat of the dance floor got to me, and I pulled Lando off to the side, fanning myself as we made our way to the bar. “I need a drink,” I muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.
“Good call,” Lando agreed, still grinning like a madman. “But I’ve got a better idea—why don’t you get some fresh air. You look like you’re about to combust.”
I nodded, following him toward the exit. The night breeze hit me like a wave of relief, cool and refreshing against my flushed skin. I let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the building as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.
Just as I was starting to feel a bit more grounded, Oscar appeared from the shadows, looking surprisingly calm despite the chaos happening inside.
“Oscar?” I blinked, surprised to see him outside. “What are you doing out here?”
Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a small shrug, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Hiding of course. Max and Daniel are going way too hard in there.”
I chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t blame you. It’s getting a bit crazy. I think I just saw Max crowdsurfing with Charles’s glasses on.”
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the music still thumping faintly in the background. I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to take in the stars above. It felt good to breathe, to have a moment of peace before heading back into the chaos.
But Oscar, always perceptive, wasn’t one to let things slide. “You alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with meaning.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just… trying to clear my head.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Franco, would it?”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. “What? No. Why would it?”
Oscar gave me a knowing look, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you’ve been acting tonight…”
I crossed my arms defensively, trying to brush it off. “He’s just being his usual flirty self. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Oscar leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as well. “Doesn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. Oscar was too good at reading people, and he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending everything was fine.
He sighed, glancing toward the club entrance. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But it’s pretty clear there’s something there. You can’t ignore it forever.”
I groaned, running a hand through my hair.
Oscar offered a sympathetic smile, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Love always is a bit complicated, I think. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it.”
We fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever I was feeling, not yet. But Oscar’s insight had a way of sticking with me, whether I wanted it to or not.
After a few moments, Oscar pushed off the wall and gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s head back inside. I think Lando’s getting ready to play.”
I nodded, following him back toward the entrance. The cool air had done little to calm my racing heart, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Franco again. But there was no avoiding it. Not tonight.
As we stepped back into the club, the music hit me like a wave, and the energy inside was even more electric than before. Lando was at the DJ booth now, a massive grin on his face as he was preparing to take over the set. The dance floor was packed, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal.
I spotted Franco near the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as I walked back inside. He didn’t look away this time. Instead, he took a slow sip from his drink, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Oscar nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight of Franco watching me. “Let’s just dance,” I muttered, pulling Oscar onto the dance floor.
“Y/N! Oscar! Get over here! We were starting to think you’d run off!” Carlos shouted over the music, motioning me toward him.
Without thinking, I grabbed Oscar’s hand and pulled him toward the group. The music, the lights, and the laughter of my friends wrapped around me, easing the tension built up in me earlier. Oscar, clearly reluctant, laughed softly as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor. His awkward moves were no match for my playful swaying, but it made the moment even funnier.
“You’re a terrible dancer,” I teased him, grinning from ear to ear.
“I never claimed to be a pro,” Oscar quipped, barely able to keep up. His shy smile only made me laugh harder.
Carlos was quick to join in, pulling me away from Oscar as he swayed confidently to the rhythm. The crowd around us blurred, and soon, it was just the familiar faces of my friends. Carlos twirled me once before leaning in playfully.
“Careful, Y/N,” he teased, “I might steal you away from everyone tonight.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “As if! You could try, though.”
Behind me, I could feel the heat of Franco’s gaze burning into the back of my neck. His eyes never left me. Every time Carlos spun me or made me laugh, I could sense Franco’s attention shifting, the tension in his stance growing tighter.
Carlos, always perceptive, picked up on it quickly. "Franco’s been eyeing you more than usual," he commented under his breath, smirking as he twirled me again. "What’s going on there?"
I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. "Nothing. He’s just… being Franco."
Carlos chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as we moved in sync with the beat. "Right. Nothing. That’s why he’s looking like he wants to punch me."
I let out a huff, but the truth was, I could feel the tension between me and Franco bubbling beneath the surface. Every glance, every stolen look, felt like a promise—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.
As the song came to an end, I found myself needing a break. "I need a drink," I said, fanning myself as I pulled away from Carlos. "Anyone else?"
Carlos grinned, giving me a playful wink. "I’m good. Say hi to your lover boy from me please."
I laughed, waving him off as I made my way towards the bar. The crowd parted slightly as I moved, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to reset. But I wasn’t alone for long.
Before I could even order my drink, Franco was there, sliding up beside me with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. His presence was overwhelming, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the club fade into the background.
"You and Carlos seem to be getting along pretty well," Franco commented, his tone casual but laced with something darker—something that sent a thrill down my spine.
I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. "What’s it to you?" I asked, my voice light but teasing. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Franco stepped closer, his body brushing against mine as he leaned in. "Just making sure you’re not getting too comfortable with the wrong guy," he said, his voice low, almost possessive.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Jealous?" I teased, leaning into the challenge. His proximity was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to show just how much he was affecting me.
Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step back. If anything, he moved closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "But you already knew that."
The air between us was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand hovered near my waist as if he was waiting for permission to touch me.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Lando’s voice cut through the air, announcing that he was about to take over the set.
The music changed in an instant. The high-energy beats slowed, replaced by something smoother, more intimate. The kind of rhythm that forced people to get close—whether they wanted to or not.
Looking at the booth, I instantly made eye contact with Lando, who winked at me with the widest smirk ever. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. It was his not-so-subtle attempt at playing matchmaker again, and as much as I hated to admit it, the slow, heavy beat was making it very hard to resist the magnetic pull I felt toward Franco.
"Guess Lando’s got a sense of humor," Franco murmured, closing the distance between us again, his breath brushing against my ear.
I swallowed hard. He was close—too close. The tension that had been simmering all night was now palpable, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t affect me. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, I was slowly losing my mind.
Franco didn’t wait for me to respond. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently towards him. "Dance with me? Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. This wasn’t the usual playful Franco I was used to—the one who flirted just for the sake of it. There was something deeper in his gaze, something real.
I hesitated for a moment, trying to catch my breath. "Franco…"
He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. "I’m not playing games tonight, Y/N," he whispered, his tone soft but firm. "This isn’t just me messing around."
I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his eyes. He was being sincere. This wasn’t the usual charm or smooth lines he used with everyone else—this was real. And it scared me.
"I…" I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if I could trust what I was feeling.
Franco’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Just dance with me," he whispered again, his lips brushing my ear.
The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, and before I could think better of it, I nodded, slowly letting my guard down and giving in to the moment. Franco’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he guided me onto the dance floor, our bodies moving in sync with the beat.
For a few moments, we just swayed together, the tension between us crackling in the air. Every touch, every brush of his hand against my skin, sent electricity shooting through me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the steady thump of his heart against mine as we moved together.
"You know," Franco murmured, his voice a little rougher now, "I wasn’t lying earlier. About you."
I looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "What do you mean?"
His green eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t quite place. "I know I make a lot of flirty jokes. With everyone. But with you? It’s different."
I blinked, the honesty in his words taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.
"I don’t want you to think I’m just… playing around. This isn’t just some game to me." His hand tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "You are special to me. I just… I want you to be mine. Just mine."
My heart was pounding in my chest, the world around us fading into the background. His words hung in the air between us, and for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.
Before I could respond, Franco’s hand slid from my waist to my lower back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress. "I don’t like sharing you," he added, his voice low and filled with something darker, something possessive.
A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his words. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him, our faces inches apart.
"Who said you had to?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.
Franco didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he closed the gap between us, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
It was like all the tension that had been building between us finally exploded in that one moment. His hands cupped my face, holding me close as his lips moved against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I responded with equal intensity, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed myself closer to him.
The world around us ceased to exist. The music, the crowd, the lights—it all faded into nothing as I lost myself in the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and every brush of his fingers against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me.
He pulled me even closer, his hands sliding down my back, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. My own pulse was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as we stumbled slightly, moving toward the edge of the dance floor.
Franco’s back hit the wall, and he pulled me against him, his hands still gripping my waist as we kissed with a fervor I hadn’t known existed. His tongue brushed against mine, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as I pressed my body against his.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Franco’s green eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he looked down at me.
"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
I smiled, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "You’re not the only one," I whispered back, my heart racing.
Franco chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked down at me with a mix of affection and desire. "I’m never letting you go now, hermosa."
The way he said it made my heart flutter, and without thinking, I leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but just as intense. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, lost in our own little world, oblivious to the party happening around us.
Finally, Franco pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Together, we slipped away from the dance floor, unnoticed by the rest of the party as we made our way outside.
The club’s energy still buzzed in my veins as Franco and I stepped outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He tugged me toward the beach, the soft sound of waves pulling us further away from the noise inside. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting the Baku coast in a beautiful gentle silver glow. I couldn’t help but smile at the shift in atmosphere, from the wild club scene to the quiet, intimate stillness of the beach.
Franco was glowing, that much was obvious. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left the club. And I knew it wasn’t just the thrill of dancing. Scoring his first F1 points today had him on cloud nine, and it was infectious. I felt it, too—his joy, his excitement—it made him even more attractive, if that was possible.
“You’re really not tired?” I teased, bumping his shoulder lightly as we strolled along the sand. “It’s been a pretty big day for you.”
He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Are you kidding? Best day of my life.”
I laughed softly, stopping to let the waves lap at my feet. “The points are a big deal, Colapinto. You’re a proper driver now.”
Franco chuckled, but when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Yeah, but it’s not just the points. Today… everything about it just feels right.”
I raised an eyebrow, playfully tilting my head. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could see past all the flirting and teasing to something deeper. “You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “This.”
I blinked, my heart stumbling over itself at the sincerity in his voice. “Oh stop it…”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower. “Today was incredible. But I’ve been wanting this moment with you for a while. And tonight… it’s just perfect.”
There it was again—that raw honesty that caught me off guard. He wasn’t playing games, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.
“I didn’t think anything could top your race today,” I said quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.
Franco smiled, his hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me a little closer. “The points were great. But this? Being here with you? This is better.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. But this time, it was slower, more deliberate. The heat from earlier gave way to something softer, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible.
When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, still catching my breath. “Guess today really was your day, huh?”
Franco chuckled, his hand gently brushing my hair back. “Yeah. And it’s not over yet.”
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Still Casual?
Part two of Casual
Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List
Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.
Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread
Word Count: 4,681
It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so.
Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual.
You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.
“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement.
“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory.
“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job.
You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties.
“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks.
You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.
“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words.
“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,”
You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.
Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean.
You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance.
Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep.
You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you.
“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.
A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more.
You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high.
“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear.
You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence.
Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions.
Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic.
It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned.
Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.”
“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered.
“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!”
“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.”
“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed.
“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt.
Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.
“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length.
You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release.
You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax.
And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own.
You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”
#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x smut#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#obx fic#rafe x fem!reader#chappell roan#casual
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Unlucky | Lip Gallagher
Summary: Lip Gallagher has a shitty life, but he still has a chance of a happy future with you. [2.4k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Lip
♡
Lip Gallagher has always considered himself unlucky for as long as he could remember. If you asked him to describe his life in five words he’d use shitty, really shitty, and extremely shitty.
He was dealt a crappy hand since the beginning not standing a fighting chance even as a kid.
There was always so much crap to deal with, whether it was bills that needed to be paid, kids that need to be taken care of, or anything dealing with Frank and Monica, sometimes he felt as if the weight of the world was resting on his chest and the only breath he’d be able to take peacefully would be his final one. He’s grateful for all the help he has because everyone pulls their weight as much as they can, but sometimes he just wishes life was just a little bit kinder to him. He wishes that he was able to do something with his high IQ, make something of himself and finally get out of this hell hole, but that didn’t roll over so well. But just as he was slowly losing hope the universe finally took pity on him and gave him you, so now he’s hanging onto you with everything he’s got.
_
It’s quiet in the Gallagher household when Lip shuffles out of bed. He can’t remember the last time he was able to sleep past 7am, so when he wakes up to birds chirping at 9am instead of the usual yelling and chaos, he’s surprised and even a little scared. He makes his way towards the bathroom getting ready to fight whoever is next in line, but finds it empty and even clean. He’s shuffling around, looking through doors to find a sense of life in his otherwise loud home when he hears a squeal from the backyard. He doesn’t think twice before grabbing a nearby bat and hurtling through the backdoor towards the pool, but he stops once he sees the atmosphere is anything, but fearful. Frannie is being tossed back and forth between Carl and Mickey in the pool, Fiona and Ian are chasing Liam with the garden hose and Debbie is bringing in watered down lemonade from the kitchen.
He has no idea what caused this change of pace, but he isn’t mad about it. Just as he’s about to make himself known, he feels a soft touch caressing his back.
“Hey baby,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his neck.
He turns his head at your sweet voice finally fully awakening his sleepy trance. Lip tugs you towards him by the belt loops of your, too short, cut off shorts and breathes into your neck. Hands slowly creeping down towards your ass to grab and pet, not socially acceptable in front of family, but he couldn’t care less.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he rasps into the valley of your chest, slightly picking you up to hug you closer. “What’s going on out here?”
“Thought everyone could use a day off especially in this heat, so Debs and I planned a pool party. Wanna join me?”
He pulls back on slightly to finally get a look at your face, your eyes are kind and happy followed by a mischievous smile.
“Sure, let me get my trunks on and I’ll be down soon.” You reward him with a soft peck on his chapped lips and an arm squeeze before moving out of his hold and grabbing some leftover toast.
The day goes by without a hitch. Everyone enjoys the much deserved break filled with laughter, junk food, and only a few fights. You’re nearly on top of Lip as you cuddle as close as you can basking in the happiness before you get ready to go out. There are only a handful of days that you and Lip both get off at the same time, so any day given is taken as a golden opportunity to spend some time together, leaving your worries at home. You plant a small peck to Lip’s cheek before untangling yourself from his hold as he answers the ringing phone.
You don’t hear much of the conversation, just faint hmms of acknowledgement as you're flying past rooms trying to get ready as fast as you can. You’re struggling with your heels as Lip comes over and steadies you, your smile meeting with his frown.
“Sweetheart, they called me in to cover someone else’s shift and you know I hate to do this, but they’re offering me time and half..” he trails off.
A quick look of disappointment flashes on your face, before you cover it up with a reassuring look. You’re disappointed, sure, but not at Lip. Never at Lip. Just the shitty circumstances that forces the both of you to work as much as you can just to make ends meet.
“It’s okay, I get it. We can always reschedule, don’t worry about it.” You pull him in and hold on to his waist hoping to ease his guilt, but your efforts go to waste as his eyebrows stay furrowed and his frown deepens.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it,” Lip murmurs against your lips before squeezing your arm and letting you go.
You watch him leave, slowly pulling off your heels and plopping yourself on the old couch, sighing already missing Lip. Your eyes shift trying to think of things to do now that your night opened up, but your mind keeps drifting back to Lip. You had eaten dinner earlier with everyone, skipping out on dessert and opting to get your fill when you go out, but now that plans have changed you were now missing both your boyfriend and something sweet to nibble on.
You quickly change out of your clothes and put on a pair of old shorts before deciding to make a batch of brownies. Lip works hard and if you guys couldn’t go out for dessert tonight, then you were going to bring dessert to him.
He’s halfway through his shift when he spots you coming in, hands holding a tupperware to your chest.
“Honey, what are you doing down here,” he shouts from across the room.
“Wanted to spend some time with you before I leave for my shift. I made some brownies since we missed dessert, care to join me?” you plead hopefully.
Lip’s heart aches with love and a lot of guilt. He can’t believe you would go through all that trouble just to see him. He calls out to say he’s taking his break before leading you to a secluded corner.
“I’m really sorry about today,” he hugs you from behind swaying back and forth, mouth opening occasionally as you feed him a chunk of the sweet treat.
You squeeze his wrist in response, “s’lright you can’t help it. I just like spending time with you.”
He smiles softly for the first time that night, stress immediately leaving his body. “Though, I love that you did all this for me, I don’t love the idea that you were walking alone this late at night.”
“Guess I’ll have to keep you company until you can walk me home then,” you compromise.
Lip’s shift goes by somewhat fast now that you’re here to keep him company. He’ll leave his station sporadically to check up on you and to keep you from falling asleep. He’s in the final stretch now, only 30 more minutes before you get to go home and fall asleep holding each other, after a long day. He looks over hoping to catch your eye and send you a smile when he feels his face slowly morphing into a glare. A glare aimed at the guy standing way too close to you, a guy whose intentions go beyond a friendly conversation, and a guy who on paper was everything you deserved, but Lip couldn’t be.
You finally glance at Lip sending a small wave and smile as you keep nodding along to the fucker next to you. He had fluffy brown hair and honestly looked quite plain if it wasn’t for the gleaming rolex on his wrist and the shiny Gucci emblem on his belt. He was a rich kid, probably from the nearby university, wasting away mommy and daddy’s money, chatting up pretty girls and sweeping them off their feet with his money. Lip’s never felt insecure about your relationship, you never gave him a reason too, but once he compares his ratty jeans and stained shirt to the pristine polo of Richie Rich he can’t help but wonder if he’s good enough for you when you can do so much better.
_
Lip was struggling. He never learned how to tie a tie before and now that the time has come, he’s racking his brain trying to get the knot perfect. He knew you couldn’t care less about a stupid tie, you were anything but superficial, but since that dreaded night when he witnessed you being chatted up by Richie Rich, Lip’s come to the conclusion that he was going to try his hardest to give you the perfect life.
When Lip proposed going up to the north side for dinner, you were shocked. You’ve been there a few times mostly on walks or running errands, but you’ve never been there to spend actual money considering neither of you could afford it. The most you and Lip would do is windowshop and daydream about the things you would buy if you had the money, before being chased off by the glaring sales people.
He picks you up at your door, pecking your cheek softly and telling you how beautiful you look. He takes your hand and leads you to the borrowed car before pulling out an expensive bouquet from the backseat. Your hands flatter as you mutter a quiet thanks. You’re a little confused at the grand gesture since Lip’s never gotten you flowers before, at least not without reason. He’s gotten you flowers exactly four times since he’s known you: the first on your first date, the second for your graduation, and the last two times for your anniversary. And all those times the flowers were below 5 bucks, something he picked up from the corner store. But the bouquet he gave you now had to be worth at least a day’s salary, you and Lip had a mutual understanding since the start that since money was scarce you wouldn’t spend it on materialistic things for each other, but lately it seems like he forgot that promise. He’s been taking you out to eat nearly everyday, always putting money down and never letting you pay, surprising you with little gifts, but worst of all he’s been running himself haggard, taking up as many shifts as he possibly could.
He notices your quiet demeanor as he starts driving, “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, I just…” you hesitate, not wanting to offend him. “I’m grateful for all of this Lip, really I am, I love everything you’ve gotten me, but I’m confused about where you’re getting all the money from and why you’re doing all this in the first place.”
Lip tightens his grip on the wheel, “Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this what all girls want?” Lip scoffs the memory of Richie Rich slowly coming into picture.
“I don’t understand what changed, everything was fine before, why are you spending money you don’t have? You don’t think I know that you’re working yourself to death trying to afford this shit?” Your voice raises in annoyance.
“Yeah, well that’s my problem, it’s none of your concern how I get all this as long as you get it.”
“It is when you’re burning money on materials that won’t even last the year instead of investing in our future.”
Lip pulls to stop as the words leave your mouth. “Our future?” He asks.
You lick your lips, trying to think of a way to backtrack but his eyes plead with you to tell the truth. “Yeah, our future. You know when we eventually move out, get a place of our own and have a kid or two?”
Lip smiles at the thought, “You want all that with me?”
You nod incredulously, “What did you think this was you idiot? That we were just playing boyfriend/girlfriend? Look I appreciate all these gestures, but the way I see it you’re burning 50 bucks on flowers that are gonna wither in a week instead of spending that money on something like our future house.”
Lip cups your chin in endearment before pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, I let everything get away from me.” He huffs in frustration before letting your chin go and clenching his fists. “It’s just when you visited me at work a few weeks back you were talking to this guy. This very rich guy who… I don’t know… I know you aren’t like that, but I couldn’t help but think this is all I’ll be able to offer you, at least right now. I will never be able to whisk you away on a private jet or buy diamonds just cause.”
You giggle as you hold his face in your soft hands, his head tilting to lean into your palm. “Lip Gallager, for someone with an insanely high IQ, you are so incredibly stupid, ” He huffs out a laugh in embarrassment as you continue, “That guy, that fool was annoying as fuck. I was just trying to get him off my back. And not to mention incredibly fucking stupid. Everything that was coming out of his mouth made me cringe and thank the stars that you’re nothing like him.”
He kisses your palm before pulling you into another kiss. “Can we skip the fancy restaurant now?” you ask as he presses kisses to your pouty lips.
“Where do you wanna go instead?”
“Family dinner, and then out for ice cream?” you suggest. He nods before putting the car back in drive.
_
Lip Gallagher was all sorts of fucked up. But somehow in his fucked up life, he managed to find you, his light at the end of a dark, narrow, and gloomy tunnel and he thinks, maybe, he isn’t so unlucky after all.
#lip gallagher#shameless#lip gallagher x afab! reader#lip gallagher x reader#lip gallagher smut#lip gallagher fanfiction#lip x reader#lip gallagher imagine#lip gallagher x fem reader#lip gallagher fic#lip gallagher angst#lip gallagher fluff#shameless fluff#shameless angst#shameless fanfiction#shameless smut#shameless quotes#lip gallagher dialogue#shameless dialogue#fiona gallagher#carl gallagher#frank gallagher#jeremy allen white#jeremy allen white avatars#jeremy allen white imagine#the bear#sigh-mon-writes#fluff#angst#sigh-mon-says
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Frnkiebby’s FellowWhore Appreciation Day(week) Installment Number One:
(if you have criticism, it’s welcome. but keep it constructive. my life motto is ‘arson is the answer’ for a reason)
You didn’t realize that Frank was no longer at your side until you turned your head to ask him a question.
“I— Frank??”
When you turned to look behind you, you saw him looking into the window of the new shop that had opened the previous week. Smiling to yourself, you walked back to him, scuffing your feet against the cement to catch his attention.
“When did this get here?” he asks, almost offended that he didn’t notice.
“Like….maybe opened a week ago or so?” you made a face and shrugged.
Frank just gapes at you. The look of incredulity on his face breaks any sort of commitment to being serious with him. It’s almost as if once you start laughing you just can’t stop. You’ve never seen a grown man in his 30’s get so miffed over not being told about a new vintage record shop opening up in a town that had at least five other record shops in the vicinity.
“Well you could’ve told me.”
“Is that my job?” you ask. Frank narrows his eyes at you and you have to try even harder to not start laughing again.
“Maybe it fuckin’ should be” he grumbles.
Before you can think of a quip back, he turns and pulls the door, frowning when it doesn’t open. You put your hand over your mouth and just watch the scene unfold. Frank looks to the open sign on the door and back to the handle, pulling again.
“I—“
“Frankie. Baby. See that sign? ‘push’? You’ve gotta push the door open.”
You make a pushing motion when his head whips around to snark something in response. Likely to tell you that you’re wrong. That is until the door swings open and Frank nearly tumbles into the shop owner.
“Oh! Sorry about that young man! I thought maybe the door was stuck again….you do know this is a push door right? Did I make that sign big enough? I’m so sorry!”
The sound of your hand flying to cover your mouth is loud enough that it causes the older gentleman to look at you in confusion.
“No! No, Sir the sign is perfect, your store is perfect! He was just so excited about looking around that I think he just wasn’t paying attention.”
If looks could kill, you would have been dead seven times over with the one playing across Frank’s face. You simply smiled at him and threaded your fingers with his, holding his hand and smiling innocently up at the store owner.
“Well isn’t that sweet! I love seeing such young people taking an interest in older forms of media! Come in, come in!!”
The old man ushered the two of you in and flapped his hands at the numerous stacks and rows of vinyls before promising not to hover and retreating back to his stool behind the counter.
“he does know we’re in our 30’s….right??” Frank asks, leaning over to whisper while eying the owner with mild concern.
“Frank stop. Let the poor guy be excited about such young people taking an interest in older forms of media” you swatted his hand out of yours and nudged him toward the closest row “now go look for more records to add to your hoard.”
He rolled his eyes at you but it didn’t stop the smile that slowly grew on his face. The afternoon progressed in fits of giggles, bargaining between which record to add to your arms, and a very pleased old man thanking the two of you for an eventful time.
#frnkiebby’s fellowwhore appreciation day(week)#frnkiebby writes#hmm#frnkiebby#frank iero#mcr#frnkiero#mcrmy#mcr5#frnkie#my chemical romance#my chem#ilhsm
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alright kids, gather around. I have some things I'd like to say regarding last night in a very organized list format
OVERALL SHOW THOUGHTS
Overall It was beautiful. I cried watching the stream. But sadly went to bed before it was over because I was feeling very unwell from staying up so late ): I missed blood,I'm not ok and Helena on stream but that's ok <3
MCR5,NEW TOUR?
-Did not expect them to release anything about that last night since it was night one of two. More likely they would do it tonight so I'm holding out hope for tonight since it's the more likely option
SOCIALS/ONLINE PRESENCE/POSTS
-Frank has NOT posted anything regarding MCR only dunes, which is very unlike him. As we know Frank loved MCR to death. He's the no 1 fan of his own band so I find it odd and very intentional that he has not posted anything about MCR at wwwyf only dunes
-along the same lines Mikey has not posted anything. Few weeks ago we got practice from him which was good, but all we have from him r 2 pics of him and his wife which r adorable, but not relating to MCR. also seems a little intentional to not have said anything about them playing at all
-MCR'S socials r DRY like bone dry. With swarm tour they posted things about "tonight were playing in (blank) at (blank time)" or something like that but they didn't post anything about WWWYF apart from when tickets went on sale for both days which is a little odd in my opinion
for all of them the silence seems ominous. Like they r trying to build suspense
OUTFIT'S, STAGE,GEE'S HAIR
-All black outfits head to toe, they looked good but it was very lacking black parade tbh (not a bad thing they looked so cute tho)
-STAGE-
-Only projections of spiders,tree (during cancer),swords,bridge (?),worms (?)
-SPIDERS PROJECTED
-swarm logo=fly
-spiders= eat flies
-"Witch" was leaked earlier this year. Paper kingdom was the album meant to come right after black parade. Their aesthetic kinda similar. Whites,blacks ect.
-some of the visuals like the swords was giving very paper kingdom 100% and if I rly did see a bridge projection in the background that's also very much the vibe. but most this stuff was done in short flashes across the backdrop
-Gee's hair-
-New haircut (stunning btw)
-new era? Gee had changed his hair for new era's. bullets/revenge it stayed pretty much the same apart from random dye jobs here and there but during black parade he got it real short and bleached it. Danger days ht dyed it red. hair is a big thing when it comes to Gee.
-New hair since shrine show (2019) pretty much. He's had long hair since MCR has come back together. U could argue it was to look nice but think about all the other stuff he's done that was also a big deal like umbrella acad final season and stuff. Why didn't he get a haircut then? Why now? and why was he hiding it?
-The last vid we got was earlier in the week the birthday one and he had the long hair still. It was recent like he did this JUST for the shows.
-i'm 100% taking this is a way of moving into a new era for MCR
MERCH
-some people were kinda bummed there was no new cool merch from the festival apart from the DEAD! zip up which is pretty cool ngl
-kinda looked like they were trying to get rid of older stuff before making something new perhaps?
-spending more time and resources on NEW shirts for a NEW album makes more sense than spending all the time and resources on designing new shirts for black parade when they can do that pretty much any time
HOPES FOR TONIGHT'S SHOW
I will not be staying up this time sorry guys. I slept 4 hours last night and feel very unwell from it. So i'll be sleeping tonight sadly but here is my hopes and predictions for tonight.
-MCR will play just like last night with the visuals and stuff but will maybe play one new song or announce it some how with the backdrop and "Paper Kingdom" will be announced to be released on OCT. 31
-Their socials will go live with all the info immediately
-Shortly after the album comes out there will be tour dates announced for spring/summer of 2025 INCLUDING warped tour
-END-
thanks for listening to my rambles if I think of more i'll add it to the list but I wanted a cohesive place to put all my findings and thoughts to share
#my chemical romance#mcr#my chemical fucking romance#gee way#g way#gerard way#ray toro#mikey way#frank iero
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i have a few thoughts about how the lost hero actually sets up the darker tone for HoO really well and then. well. there was never any follow through.
now some of my hindsight about TLH is probably fueled by nostalgia (i actually am really fond of tlh and also i was 14 when i read. impressionable on my teen brain). i’ve reread it several times, but i have really strong memories of the first time i read the book too, and i just remember it having a very gloomy, dark vibe to it. (the way that TTC is set in winter and definitely feels like a winter book, this is the HoO equivalent for me.)
looking at the actual contents of the book, the book starting off with jason's pov, who has no idea who he is, so immediately the feeling is 'oh shit. something happened to this guy. and it's not good.' and then almost immediately after that, getting sucker punched with the “she's been looking for one of our campers, who’s been missing three days…her boyfriend. A guy named percy jackson.” percy??? thee percy jackson. MISSING???? (look, that put 14 year old me flat on the floor. it still hits. but in 2010 when we had no idea percy was going to even be in these books….you kinda just had to be there okay.)
alongside jason, we have piper, whose dad got kidnapped by a giant and she'd being blackmailed! all before she finds out she's a demigod!! like she's already having a ROUGH time. we find out leo was manipulated by gaea to use his flame powers, which resulted in the fire that killed his mom (genuinely wtf).
their quest starting the lead up to the second great prophecy, which is happening so soon after percy's great prophecy (like they JUST finished fighting a war. give them a chance to breathe dammit. but also implying that some major things stirred with the defeat of kronos. But how could there be something more horrifying than kronos?).
their quest taking them to all these abandoned and/or cold places (the run down wolf house, they're hiding in the sewers at one point, the cyclops lair in that abandoned warehouse, the cave where they shelter from the cold and where the hunters of artemis find them, boreas’s house being in canada, even the mall where they meet medea being empty iirc). jason being abandoned by his mother. piper feeling abandoned by a father who doesn't have enough time for her. leo being alone too (not his mom's fault she died; not his fault for the fire; but he's alone nonetheless). even their primary mode of transportation being flying on festus feels strange and out of the place, bc for so long, we were seeing through percy's eyes and he had to stay on the ground.
and then to end the book with jason dying, however briefly. literally a dead man walking from the very beginning.
the tone was something different and darker, and combined with percy, hazel, and frank going to alaska, the land beyond the gods, in SoN, we were really venturing into unknown territory. it felt like our heroes would be tested. that gaea truly was something to be feared, even more so than kronos, and that it would take the generation's seven greatest demigods to defeat her.
and then it never followed through with that set up.
#i really love tlh actually and it’s crazyyyy (to me) seeing it as people’s least fave out of the hoo books#like it’s probably the nostalgia. but i really do have such vivid memories of this book (and SoN). they’re just so dear to me#pjo#the lost hero#heroes of olympus#hoo
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Omg please I've been craving eastablished relationship sirius x fem!reader fluff I feel like i've read through the entire tag
What about rockstar!sirius who misses reader and is moping so james and remus set up a surprise and fly her out to a show and she's standing at the baracade and sirius sees her and like jumps off the stage to go to her?
i love rockstar!sirius my beloved<3 thank you for requesting!!
.
To be frank, Sirius Black had been insufferable for the last two months.
When the band had been touring around the UK and Europe, you were able to join them at most, if not all, shows. Sirius loved having you by his side, knowing that one of his favourite people on the planet was with him whilst he did something he loved. And you loved watching your boy thrive in his element.
However, when the tour moved to North America, you were unable to follow.
Despite his insistence that he had more than enough money to take care of you both (and let you be his full time favourite groupie), he knew how much your degree meant to you and he wouldn’t ever want you to drop your dreams when you supported his so much. So, you had stayed in the UK to continue your education.
And Sirius was downright miserable with the distance between you.
Not that anyone would notice. To the world, Sirius Black was still going out on stage and performing like every show was his last. He was a rockstar through and through, and the world fell in love with him a little more with each performance.
But to his bandmates? They had nothing but constant whining and complaining and moping that Sirius didn’t have his girl by his side. And, to be honest, James and Remus had reached their wit’s end. They could deal with a lot, but two months of it?
No. They knew they needed to do something.
It wasn’t hard to convince you at all to fly over and visit for a short leg of the North America tour. You had been just as miserable without your boy back home. The apartment felt empty without him. And his guitars were a little dusty, which was a sight you weren’t used to. And having one side of the bed constantly cold, with his scent long faded from the pillows, it was starting to take a toll on you.
You packed a bag and made your way to the airport without a second thought, landing in Michigan the day of their show.
“This is ridiculous.”
Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just a precaution.”
“Remus, you want me to get into a suitcase,” you deadpanned, wondering if the tour had finally driven him over the edge. “I am going to suffocate in there!”
“You won’t,” James reassured you with a bright grin. “We’ve done it plenty of times. Plus, it’s just until we can get you into the venue without fans seeing and spoiling the surprise.”
And you knew he had a point.
The boys didn’t just want to fly you over and throw you at Sirius. No, they wanted to surprise him, completely knock the air out of his lungs. They didn’t want some lame reunion in a hotel room before he was rushed off onto stage and you were forced to stand backstage until the set ended.
Go big or go home, and the marauders always chose the former.
It was why you agreed to get in the suitcase, staying in the cramped space until you reached the venue. It was why you agreed to wear the oversized hoodie, despite standing amongst the fans in the ridiculously hot crowd. It was why you agreed to keep your disguise up until the first few songs passed.
And then, you threw the hood off your head and you gripped the edge of the barricade as you looked up at the stage, as you looked up at your boyfriend and took in the sight of him for the first time in two months. The tight trousers fitted around his thick thighs, the leather jacket exposing his bare and tattooed torso, the sweat gleaming like a thin layer on his skin and the messy black hair that you missed running your fingers through.
Fuck, you missed your boyfriend.
Sirius lifted his head to look away from his fretboard, his eyes on the crowd as he played the opening riff to the next song, only to stop short when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. He blinked once, and then twice to make sure it was really you. And by that point, security couldn’t even stop him as he shrugged his guitar off and shoved it into the hands of whoever was closest to him before he hopped off the stage and made a beeline towards you.
The crowd was going wild as they watched him, the cameras were capturing every moment but you couldn’t care less as Sirius made his way to the barricade, grabbing your face and smashing his lips against yours. It was sloppy, messy and a little desperate, and probably far too much with so many eyes on you but Sirius never really cared about any of that stuff anyways.
“Fuck, I missed you so much, love,” Sirius murmured before he leaned in for another kiss and another and another. And when that wasn’t enough, he all but dragged you over the barricade, grinning wildly when you clung onto him.
“Sirius!” you gasped, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands rested on your ass.
“God, I missed hearing you scream my name,” he muttered, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he watched you flush at his comment.
“You have a show to perform,” you murmured, nodding your head towards the stage. “I can wait.”
“Well, I can’t,” Sirius told you. “C’mon, let’s go back to the tour bus—”
“Sirius,” you laughed, though there was a hint of warning in your voice which he recognised. “Show first, then sex.”
Sirius grinned cheekily. “Promise?”
“Promise,” you smiled, leaning down and he pouted his expecting another kiss, only for your lips to brush against his ear instead. “Plus, I want us to have all the time in the world when you see the little surprise I got for you.”
Sirius gulped. “Surprise?”
“Got ‘em done just before you left,” you told him and his spine straightened in realisation. “Should be healed enough for you to play with them.”
“Show me.”
“Sirius—”
“Baby, show me or so help me, I will lose my mind,” Sirius groaned.
But you just laughed, patting his cheek as you told him there wasn’t a chance in the world you were going to flash your tits in front of everyone. He groaned as you began untangling yourself from him, making your way backstage where you would watch the rest of the show. Sirius glared at you and your stomach twisted in anticipation.
“Good luck, baby! Knock ‘em dead!”
.
#sirius black#marauders#harry potter#hp#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fic#sirius black one shot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
two | chapter list
Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.
bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Sirius Black smells like winter. The deep fragrance of cranberries, pomegranate, maybe cinnamon. You aren't certain, and if he weren't currently an inch from your face, you'd ask him what it is.
"You poor thing," he murmurs, dabbing very, very gently against the bruised skin of your cheek.
"It's not–" You hiss at sudden pressure. He immediately recedes. "It's not so bad,” you say weakly.
"I've half a mind to rag him around and take up the mantle myself."
"I'd love to see that," Remus says.
"I'd look good in the uniform, right?"
James doesn't look happy at their joking but he's been nothing less than a grovelling puppy since last night, and he breaks his silence to say, "You don't have to wear any make-up if it's going to hurt."
"Uh, yes she does. Imagine the headlines otherwise: Lost Princess Bruised Under the Imbecilic Watch of New Bodyguard," Sirius announces, sharing a not-so-private smile with Remus across the coffee table.
"It doesn't hurt," you say to James.
You're lying. Being smacked in the face with a door isn't just embarrassing, it really fucking hurts. James' biceps aren't for show, that's for sure. He'd swung open the door and you, having tripped seconds beforehand over the cord of your lamp, had been at the perfect height for it to bounce off the highest point of your cheek.
"Princess," he says now, as he'd said last night, "I'm so sorry. I can’t believe I made such a huge mistake.”
You think of his hands under your arms pulling you up into a standing position, and the way he'd tilted your head back. The barking order he'd given Frank to grab something to use as an ice pack, and the warmth of the pad of his thumb as it stroked the soft line of your jaw before you’d squirmed away. Crying all over your handsome bodyguard’s nice hands hadn't been something you'd pictured doing, not 12 hours after meeting him.
"It was a freak accident." You smile, careful not to push up your cheeks lest you invite another round of shooting pains. "Please don't feel bad. It's my fault for being up in the first place. I just couldn't sleep."
"If you want anything for the pain, let me know," Remus says.
"He has his own personal, extensive pharmacy," Sirius says. "You should take him up on it. I beg him every time we fly for some of the strong stuff and he never says yes. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Let's not start on the co-codamols," James says.
"I have ibuprofen," Remus placates.
"I don't need anything, I promise."
Some ibuprofen would be awesome, but you really don't want James to feel guilty. You want to forget it ever happened, embarrassed by both your idiocy and your tears, but the pain pangs white hot in your cheek.
"You want me to do your lips?" Sirius asks.
"How do you mean?"
Sirius pulls a metal palette of lip colours out of his small make up bag and shows them to you. He circles two with a disposable brush. "These would suit you. I wasn't sure about your complexion. Now I know, I'll get you more options when we're back in Genovia."
"Oh, um…" You shake your head at him apologetically. "I don't know. You should do what you think is best."
He puts the palette away. "You don't need anything you're unsure of. You don't need any makeup at all, darling, it only enhances what's already there."
"Decide quickly. We have ten minutes before we leave," James says. "Princess, are you sure this is everything you want to take?"
He taps your suitcase with the side of his shoe. You nod.
"You can bring whatever you want. All of your things, if you like." He gestures to your bedroom. "Though we can get you anything you need, and we will, you're welcome to pack everything."
"In a day, you'll know I'm not your princess. Less stuff to carry," you say.
"You're so sure," Remus says.
He speaks without timidity, laid back in your chair with an air of relaxation you wish you could master. He has a small mass market paperback tucked into one pocket of his jacket, the yellowed pages peeking over the hem, and his hand stuffed into the other. His pose doesn't speak of any arrogance. He looks happy to be here, and it puts you at ease.
"Do I look like a princess?" you ask. You don't mean to put anyone on the spot —you aren't fishing for compliments— so you steamroll your own question. "I just find it strange. Surely I'd know. I would've known before, I mean."
"Like a princess beacon?" Sirius asks.
"No, but… I don't know. I think I'd feel it."
Remus straightens a touch, grinning. "You look like him. The Prince. You have the same nose."
Remus stands up before you can ask him to explain. James offers to take his bag and he shrugs away from James’ hand with an annoyed huff.
To your surprise, James only smiles, cooing after him, "You know you love me, Moony."
"Well," Sirius says, zipping his bag closed and clasping his hands on top of it. "You can always have your things sent for once we're home."
Home for them.
Truthfully, deep down, you want to be a princess. Something in you is aching, is ringing, a string plucked, a tuner reverberating. Finally, something is happening to you, even if that something is unbelievable.
You're not used to having people around and this entire process has been hard. Getting hit in the face had sucked. But, to have company? This single hour has been one of the best you've had in a really long time. Sirius is sweeter than you'd thought, sarcastic but kind-handed, and Remus' dry humour has caught you off guard enough to laugh aloud. Even James' grovelling niceties have been shamefully enjoyable. You can't remember the last time you had someone around who wanted to comfort you.
And that's exactly why you're afraid to admit what seems true. You can't be a princess, because if you are, you get to have this for a little while longer, and that would be too good to be true.
Much, much too good.
"Alright, let's go. Sirius, you have the keys?"
Sirius swings his bag into James’ arms. “Am I driving?”
“That’s a stupid question.”
Another member of James’ security team meets you at your front door to help carry the bags downstairs and into the back of an SUV. You’ve never seen one in person. James won’t allow you to help and getting inside while they’re still packing the boot feels spoiled, so you stand at the corner with too many eyes on you. James stands beside you, one hand hovering at your shoulders to shield you, ridiculously, from the hedges, the other held aloft in level with his mouth, his fingers curled around a small radio. He’s enunciating clear, short instructions. He doesn’t sound as severe as you’d pictured someone in his occupation would sound.
“What’s traffic like?” he asks. The answer buzzes down the line, inaudible to you but obviously understood by James. “Alright, brilliant. We should be on schedule, then. Is everyone on team three ready for action?”
You can make the next answer out. “Yep, they’re waiting. You want them at the front?”
“Please. I want everyone we have, ideally.”
“Isn’t that overkill?” Sirius shouts from the passenger seat of the car, bent over the handbrake to be heard. “All three teams? That’s twelve men. None of my sources hint at any leaks.”
“I’m being over cautious.” James smiles at you, so suddenly you smile back on instinct. “Security on call get paid either way. Might as well make them work for it.”
He ushers you into the back seat, a cushy leather bench fit for three people. Sirius is quick to pop a section behind his chair for you to unveil a drinks fridge.
“Oh,” you breathe, legs lit and cooled by the light and the chilled air, “cool.”
“You’ll want to drink one before James assesses that they’re poisoned.”
You wince back. “Are they poisoned?”
“Probably not, darling girl. Why don’t we try them and find out?”
Sirius is a mixture of flirtatious and genuine that you can’t wrap your head around. He’s awfully handsome, too, which makes it worse: he’s tanned, his curls soft but shining, and he has the most perfect Roman nose you’ve ever seen. He’s almost as handsome as James.
“Let me be very clear,” he says, turning in his seat to face you, “I’m not an intelligence agent. I don’t know nearly as much as sweet Jamie about security, but I have a lot of friends in high places and, as far as I’m aware, nobody outside of the British or Genovian government knows what we’re doing here. And nobody has reason to hurt you just yet.” He grins. “It’s James’ job to be paranoid, but that’s all it is.”
You waver, and his cheerful smile fades.
He lowers his voice, tone sympathetic. “I can really try one first if you’re worried.”
The driver’s door opens and James climbs in. “Try what?” he asks. He moves through a routine quickly of safety checks like a learning driver would. He rolls up the open window and turns in his seat, gaze flitting between you and Sirius suspiciously. “Everything okay?”
“I think the Princess is a little anxious about leaving the country,” Sirius says.
“Yeah?” James asks, eyes back to the windshield. He turns the key, and the car warms to life with a low roar.
“A little.” You nudge the fridge closed with your foot.
“What was that?” James asks. “Is that a fridge? Do me a favour, don’t drink any of that. I'll get you whatever you want at the airport.”
“She can’t have a bottle of water from the fancy four by four but airport drinks are fine?” Sirius laughs.
“Spike one fridge’s worth or the entire supply chain?” James asks.
“What if this assassin is inefficient?”
“Assassin?” you ask.
James glares at Sirius, their joking suddenly culled. "There are no assassins, Princess. He's being ridiculous." He looks to you with a smile. "You have everything?"
Your sickly grimace has him giving pause. All fake smiles and dramatics fall away, and in its place is the genuineness you'd been met with last night.
"Hypothetically," he says, "there are assassins. In reality, there absolutely are not. You're not in any danger, alright? Sirius is the master of badly timed jokes."
"Okay," you say meekly.
James nods and you buckle in, sitting back in the comfiest car seat you've ever been privy to as you turn your face to the window. You look up at your building, shrinking as the car starts to move. You drive further and further away, until you turn a corner, and your life is out of view.
—
James is worried about you. As an acquaintance, he's starting to think you're a worrying person. There isn't a whole lot of spark behind your eyes —you rival Remus for number of tired smiles.
He wonders why you hadn't packed any of your art supplies. Your room is teeming with them. Even if you're correct and you aren't a Genovian princess after all, there's still a day or more before they can actually confirm it. Factoring in travel time, you won't be home for at least a week. A week without your sketchbooks and paints and pencils.
As your bodyguard, as a bodyguard, James has always taken concern in his charge's overall health, mental and physical. You don't seem ill, but you do seem unhappy.
"Are you afraid of flying?" he asks, hoping that will explain your distance. He stands less than half a foot from you. He'll allow you some more space just as soon as you're not in an airport.
"I'm not sure," you answer.
Another peculiarity, you're a pathological liar.
Okay, that's unfair. You aren't pathological. James is an excellent judge of character as his job requires. He's gotten good at profiling a person's motivations. Your motivation is to become the smallest version of yourself that you can be, any possible imposition set aside, such as your plain refusal of painkillers when your cheek can't not hurt.
"Is there something I can do? To help you feel better?"
"Is that your job?" you ask, voice lilting upward with self-consciousness.
"Kind of. You know, as soon as your paternity test is recognised, you could ask for just about anything. An assistant, as many assistants and attendants as you want. Your security will most certainly increase, especially when the Palace makes a statement." He notes your widening eyes and backtracks. "It's not really my job, but I wouldn't mind. If you think of anything, let me know."
You hide your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. You're dressed as he advised, comfortably and nondescript.
"Do you need anything from me?" you ask.
He hides his surprise, his eyes doing another lap of the semi-private waiting room he's ushered you into. He takes in business men, officials, and diplomats for the tenth time in half an hour.
"I don't need anything from you, Princess. Thank you."
"I don't want to make your job any harder than it is."
"You haven't."
"That's not true," you murmur, bruised cheek angled toward the floor and away from view.
"That was my fault, not yours," James says.
He remembers the heat of your tears running down his index finger.
"That was my mistake," he reaffirms.
You don't answer, but James knows it isn't an agreeable silence. Which is fine, he isn't trying to dominate your opinion, would never assume he had the right to police what you're feeling. He wants to reassure you more than he strictly should.
This might be harder than I thought, he thinks.
"The flight is near enough three hours. You're sure you don't want anything to take with you? If you're worried about dietary restrictions, there's a salad bar in the Mastercard lounge. I'm sure we can get someone to make you something up."
"I'm fine… Will you be hungry?"
He laughs. "You really don't understand the employee-employer dynamic, do you?" he asks, not unkindly. "You don't have to worry about me."
He's teasing you. He knows he's done a good job when you lift your head.
"I don't think you can talk about employee-employer dynamics," you say, flicking your eyes down to your cheek's bruise.
“Oh, nice! That was a quick one. We'll make a Genovian of you yet, they're all sarcastic."
"They? You aren't Genovian?"
"Do I look Genovian?" he asks, gesturing to his face. You splutter. "I'm messing with you. No, I'm not originally from Genovia, but my heart is hers."
"You've always lived there?"
"Since I was two."
Your expression dims. It takes James a second to connect the dots.
"There are plenty of people living in Genovia who aren't native. Remus is Welsh, can you tell? His accent hasn't quite survived it."
"James, you and Remus, and Sirius, you've met before? You all seem familiar."
"We went to the same boarding school. Well, we actually shared a room. We–" He feels heat washing across his face at his unprofessional phrasing. "We're best mates."
"And you all get to be together," you say.
"Yeah, we do. We're lucky. Before this, Remus was working as a royal tutor for the young elites, and Sirius was trying to micromanage Julianna. That's your cousin."
"The Princess' cousin," you correct.
"You brought us back together," he says without arguing. "You'll have to forgive me for hoping you are who they say you are."
"Lily never really explained, how I- I mean, why they think it's me."
"Well," he says, stepping closer to you still, and lowering his voice, "my assumption is that, because the Prince's passing was a freak accident, they hadn't really planned for a different successor."
"Well, what were they going to do? He'd pass on eventually."
"I believe there were hopes he'd marry a Duchess."
"And have a legitimate child."
"Yes. You are, to the majority, a secret. The Prince would have been seventeen at the time of your conception, which is a royal scandal if I've ever heard one."
"Seventeen?" you ask.
"Lily didn't tell you any of this?"
"Honestly, uh, she might have. I wasn't–” You clear your throat. "Wasn't really listening? I had a pretty bad migraine at the time, and I was tired?”
"You were overwhelmed with finding out that you're a princess."
"That I might be a princess."
"Sure. When they told me I might be Prince of Italy, I had the same reaction."
You wrinkle your nose at him, the most forceful thing you've done in his presence. He laughs a storm, only tamping it down when he remembers he's a professional.
Soon, the boys return from their airport traipsing. Remus makes a comment on James' little smile, and he pretends to zip his lips closed when they both spot Sirius' probing glances. James moves your entourage to the aircraft then, not private but almost, and you board into first class seats, two per each side of the aisle and partitioned by a sheet of frosted plexiglass.
You and James sit together.
He doesn't subject you to conversation. He's technically working, and so while he relaxes into his seat and stretches out his tired legs, he doesn't completely forgo vigilance.
You look around in awe for some time. Eyes widened just slightly, lips parted, you sit up and sneak glances at everything you can.
James knocks on the partition. “You want the fan? The heater?"
"The fan, please,” you say, and he supposes you do look a bit warm around the collar.
He doesn't bother saying of course, or no worries, or no problem. He's a problem solver. If you're going to be under his watch, he's going to make it as easy on you as he can. That means letting you be thankful without shrugging it off.
Your eyes close quickly. Your eyelashes flutter imperceptibly in the fans slow breeze, and your lips part as you fall into sleep. Last night's disruption had been hard on you no doubt.
James stands and eases sideways down the aisle to check on Remus and Sirius. Remus sits reading, while Sirius leans into his space, a magazine open but unread on his thighs.
"Anything for me to read?" James asks Remus.
Remus knows exactly what James is up to. If he appreciates or abhors the extra attention is anyone's guess, until he digs through the bag at his feet and pulls out one of his Russian philosophy novels with a smirk. "This or the newspaper."
James takes the worn paperback with a wry look of defeat and reaches over and across to Sirius head of curls, tugging one cruelly.
Sirius looks up, but is only irritable when he notices that it had been James, and not his seatmate.
"What?" Sirius demands.
"Do you need anything?"
"No. Quit mothering. And maybe get some rest?"
"I can't."
"You most certainly can. Swap out with Frank, or Mickey or someone."
James swaps out with Mickey. Mikkelson, please keep an eye on the entryway. Yes, boss. He returns, finding you weren’t as asleep as he'd thought. You look at him through lashes. You've gone soft, in little regard for your appearance, and he's glad for it. Watching you is like watching a spring stretched tall, and now you've finally snapped into yourself and deflated.
"You alright?" he murmurs.
You nod, and he sits, and when he doesn't get up you fall asleep again, like you'd been waiting for him to get back. You sleep for hours through turbulence, Sirius' roaring laughter, Remus' answering chuckles, and the flight attendant who scolds them. James wishes he could do the same, reading a mind-numbing forty pages of Russian literature densely translated and sipping on a glass of coke, the ache of an oncoming headache pinching behind his eyes.
The hubbub doesn't wake you. The plane lands and you sleep on.
James whispers your name quietly, louder when you fail to rouse. Finally, he gives in and squeezes your shoulder. Resting heat radiates through the fabric of your hoodie, your hair frizzy where it's rubbed against the seat behind you.
You wake with a cough. "James?"
"We're here, Princess, in Genovia."
"That was," —you yawn, turning to hide your face so he can't see— "fast."
You look like you might fall asleep again. His heart does an awful little flip, which he dutifully ignores.
"It was hours. You've slept the whole time. A good thing, huh?" He bends down until you're face to face, close enough to share your breath. "That bruise is getting worse. Remus will give you painkillers, and I'm gonna get you an ice pack as soon as we're off the plane." He squeezes your shoulder again. "Up. Come on."
You nod and rub your eyes, stretching in your seat. He averts his gaze and stands as tall as he can, shoulders hunched to avoid clipping his head. Remus has made no efforts to move yet and Sirius is in the aisle, pulling their bags into his arms.
"Are you alright, Moony?" James asks.
Remus has gone ashen.
"He has a migraine,” Sirius says quietly.
"Can you see okay?" James asks.
Remus gets blurry, occluded vision when he gets these sudden migraines. He winces, hand over his eyes, and says, "Not really. Can I have your sunglasses?"
"Yeah," James says, holding in the, of course you can, I'd genuinely die for you, that he wants to add.
He slides his rucksack off of his shoulder and takes his sunglasses from the front pocket. He taps them into Remus' hand.
"You'll have to touch up the Princess' bruise for me," Sirius says.
James startles. "What?"
"It's easy–"
"I'll take Remus," James says.
"You can both go do your jobs, I'll be fine," Remus mutters, flinching at an invisible, biting pain.
"No," they both deny.
Remus doubles over.
"All you have to do is stipple it," Sirius whispers fervently.
"Sirius, I don't know what stippling is."
"Dots of makeup. She knows what shade we chose. Here, take my bag. There's a clean brush."
Remus hasn't always let them take care of him. His disabilities have made him the subject of disdain, pity, and misguided attention, which he has never, ever wanted, and he'd mistaken their friendship for lots of things at first. Nowadays, he accepts the help that he needs, help that his friend's are happy to give, and disregards their smothering overkill otherwise. That being said, Remus has always found it easier to accept help from Sirius than James. They all know it and none of them bother saying why that is aloud. James leaves him to it.
James ushers you back into your seat where you'd been standing tentatively in the aisle and presents the little make up bag. He kneels in front of you.
"I'll get the painkillers," he says, remembering his earlier promise, "Sirius is preoccupied, so you're stuck with me on touch ups."
"Is it bad?"
"No. Does it feel bad?"
Your slow response is telling. "No," you lie, "it's not that bad." You point at one of the colours through the clear case. "I think it was that one."
"Thank you," he says, murmurs, opening the case. There's a brush tucked inside, and he picks it up clumsily. He is completely out of his depth, but James Potter doesn’t give up, nor baulk in the face of new things.
"Does he have a mirror? I can do it myself, if you want,” you say.
"If he does, he didn't give it to me. I promise not to mess you up too badly, Princess. Put your trust in me,” he teases.
James presses the brush into your chosen colour and pats. The concealer is harder than he'd thought it would be, tough under the brush. It all looks silly in his hands.
"Lean your head back for me," he says softly.
You tip your chin up. Your eyes close as he begins.
He's too careful. The colour doesn't want to transfer. "Sorry," he murmurs, applying pressure. You wince but say nothing to stop him. "Tell me if it hurts too much."
"It's only a bruise."
"You're allowed to be hurt. And you should be more angry with me."
"It was an accident."
"It was my mistake." He watches the bruise blend away under concealer, but the colour doesn't quite match your skin. He tries his best to blend out the edges. "A professional mistake, which means you're more than allowed to be annoyed."
"I'm starting to think you want me to be mad," you say. You're trying not to move, and so each word is half a whisper.
"I do. I want you to be furious. It's ten times harder to keep someone safe when they have no self-preservation. And it’s a little concerning. I’m used to immediate revenge."
He gives up on the brush and uses his pinky finger to smudge out the blocky colour he's left behind. Your skin is scorching under his touch.
"So if I'm angry with you, that makes your job easier?"
He hums. "Mh-hmm. Much easier."
You hold your breath as he finishes up, a gentle patting motion as he was instructed.
"How some girls do this every day," he mutters.
"It gets easier."
"Yeah?" He drags his pinky down your cheek without thinking. "Hopefully this is my last time. It looks fine. Maybe don't stop in direct sunlight."
He collects all of his things and pulls the makeup bag into his chest, easing his way out into the aisle again. You follow. Everyone else has de-boarded the plane besides a pearly-smiled flight attendant, whose smile grows impossibly wider as they approach.
"Everything okay today folks?" he asks. "How was your flight?"
James offers thank-yous and guides you down the length of the plane to the exit. You're quiet from the plane to the steps, his hand ghosting your shoulder, to the tarmac, where your security entourage awaits. Including James there are eight bodyguards. Two stick close, five form a mock perimeter around you.
"Unfortunately, you might draw attention from the protection detail alone. It's up to you, Princess, but I can hide your face."
"Is that… dramatic?"
"It's completely up to you. I don't think it's dramatic. Just depends on how comfortable you are with your face potentially on TV."
"Can I– Maybe I'll stay close," you say, pulling your hood up.
"Just prod me if you're uncomfortable."
He takes you by the elbow and you walk. There aren't any paparazzi waiting outside, and James thinks maybe the news of your arrival has escaped them, and you won't be exposed to the madness that is paps with a story like this one, until he sees Sirius and Remus waiting at the glass doors into the airport with wringing hands.
A crowd of cameras waits inside.
"Can't we go around?" Sirius asks.
"They have to check our passports, idiot," Remus says.
"You can’t fucking see around them, mate," Sirius says to James.
James motions for you to stand where you are and crosses the gap to get a better look. Mickey takes his place by your side.
"Fuck," he hisses, because the crowd is a herd, a sea of Genovian’s waiting to see their new princess, "what the fuck is that? I thought nobody knew we were coming."
"Should I be worried?" he hears you ask quietly.
"Mikkelson, give the Princess your sunglasses,” James orders.
"So yes, then," you say.
James props open the door with his foot. "Princess, you're going first, behind me. They'll expect you in the middle. Hopefully that'll minimise what they can get, we’re going to be quick." He holds out his arm.
You slot perfectly underneath it.
"Ready?" he asks.
You don't look very ready. You nibble your lip and nod anyhow, tucking your face into his front. James walks you forward, into a storm of white flashes and shouting, the precipice of your new life.
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 please consider reblogging if you did, I'd love to know what you thought and what you want to see in the next one! and a happy new year !!!!
#james potter fic#james potter#marauders era#marauders#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#the marauders
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 (pt2)
×A/N×
Hi hi! Here's the part 2!
Also, I forgot to mention that the " general hcs " can be (actually, it's almost recommended) read as platonic hcs aswell!
They're so ooc I'm sorry 😭😭
If you find my content disturbing please don't interact with it! Thank you! ^-^
×❢ About my work ❢×
fluff, mention of blood, period pain, everybody has relationship headcanons, also no proofread, and it's probably ooc too-, they're mostly cuddling or taking care of you :3, fem! Reader
Fandom: The Sun and Moon Show
Character(s): Ruin Eclipse, Dark Sun, Bloodmoon, Frank/Forkface, Killcode, You| (Y/N) |The Reader
Ship(s): Ruin/Reader, Killcode/Reader, Bloodmoon/Reader, Frank/Reader, Dark Sun/Reader
Form: Headcanons
[The artworks are not mine! The credits go to @//kiwi_artz for the TSaMS thumbnail arts! However, I haven't found the artist of MGaFS thumnails, if anyone knows it, I would be greatful if they could write it down for me! Thank you!]
Ruin
General:
• He'll be concerned or confused at the begining, so you might have to explain it to him, but he'll quickly catch up
• Personally, I don't think Ruin would mind the blood, but absolutely would hate himself, if he would make you feel uncomfortable by thinking the opposite of this.
• They check on you, scan you and often ask you if you need anything.
• I think he would be the kind of person who you could cuddle at anytime. If you have their trust, he'll let you really close to him while he is watching his musical/anime or anything.
• Will not ask for advice from anyone... Let's just say people don't really want to see him nowadays. (And I think he is aware of what he did to the others. He doesn't want to upset them more.)
Relationship hcs:
• Ruin tries to avoid everything what makes you uncomfortable/upset. He is not a hothead, but if someone manages to disturb you, he'll glare at them until they leave. If the person still don't want to leave you alone, Ruin might raise their voice.
• If your period doesn't come with pain, he will still check up on you.
• He can get concerned or nervous about your well being very easily.
• You can just lay down beside him and eat snacks while watching anime with him (or whatever this silly wants to do). Will give you kisses aswell while you rest beside him.
• OH WAIT WAIT- Have I also said that he is really prepared? Like you ask for pads/tampons and you casually look into the drawer and see six packs of supplies- Don't worry, he knows what to do and they will take care of you just perfectly ♡
Bloodmoon
General:
• Bloodmoon quickly reacts to anything that bleeds, so it's not a secret for them, they can sense you.
• Won't mind the blood, trust me this guy is more than comfortable around it.
• Also, some positive things, at least they can find you easier and they don't have to search through the whole pizzaplex
• omg I just imagined something-
They seem like that kind of animatronic who gets confused by winged pads- Like sure, they'll quickly buy it for you, but just imagine at the store be like
"Did you find the pads? Do they have wings?"
"..."
"Bloodmoon?"
"Wings? Tf do you mean by "wings" ?"
"... Like... On the side."
"..."
"Why do they have wings? They can fly too? Should I be worried?"
"Oh my god..."
Lmao it makes me giggle-
Relationship hcs:
• Before we begin, I just want to send a thumbs up that you managed to be in a relationship with them. Good job homie 👍
• would rest on your tummy for a reason
• The brothers might start to panic if you don't feel well
• They usually find solution together, but if they see that it's better to ask for help, they might ask Miku
• OH AND- Like I said, they would bring you supplies and food aswell if you need them! (They're really fast, so you might consider just asking them instead of ordering-) They would take really good care of you!
Dark Sun
General:
• okay, so we know that Dark Sun is a bit of a passive one
• He is way more smarter than he looks, he keeps things to himself, and won't care about others until they have what he needs or until he's bored
• So when he sees you aren't looking so well, if he decides to care, he'll just simply ask you what's going on with you
• If you tell him, he might feel a bit embarassed, hell even a little bit awful if you let him know that he made you uncomfortable
• If he sees that you're not okay he will keep his distance and leave you alone. Don't get him wrong, it doesn't bother him at all and totally understands it, it's just if you don't have something important he can use, he won't disturb you. Either this, but if you do have something which he needs, he might choose to have a little chat with you...
Relationship hcs:
• If you're in a relationship with him for a longer time, there's a chance that he memorizes your time period
• He won't leave you willingly, but if he has so other option, he'll manage to watch out for you
• Unfortunately, you can only cuddle with him when isn't away or busy. But trust me it's worth to wait, and he will also appreciate your patience. He shows affection by mostly words and small, gentle touches. He's not a big softy, but he's very gentle and careful when it comes to you.
Killcode
General:
• okay, so KillCode is awesome-
• Like, if you need supplies, he'll happily do shopping with you
• Also, I think KC would like to learn more about your organic body, because he wants to know what are you feeling, what he has to pay close attention and how can he aid you
• He'll help you as he can
Relationship hcs:
• He might overreact a little at times
• Probably won't leave you alone and he'll often check up on you, ask how you are feeling
• He's a reallly caring partner!
Frank/Forkface
General:
• Frank can't really say anything about it-
• Like they're aware of what's happening to you right now - he's not dumb. But about same as Dark Sun, they won't really comment on it.
• He'll continue to watch from the distance until he has to intervine.
Relationship hcs:
• They still talk to you that much, however he'll breath out a "How are you feeling?" from time to time
• They might not talk often, BUT they're really caring and cuddly in these kind of situations
• He likes to nuzzle or touch your tummy, but if you're too insecure, they will rub your hip or your hand. Also, he's very gentle too!
• If you don't really have period pains (good for you buddy 😔), he'll still be very attentive towards you
• Trust me, even if he doesn't really like to talk, he is a really good partner!
• (We love Frank)
#the sun and moon show#tsams#sams#sun and moon show#ruin eclipse#tsams ruin#tsams bloodmoon#sams bloodmoon#sams ruin#sun and moon show bloodmoon#bloodmoon twins#sams killcode#tsams killcode#sun and moon show killcode#dark sun tsams#x reader#sams frank#tsams forkface#sun and moon show forkface#ruin eclipse x reader#bloodmoon x reader#killcode x reader#dark sun x reader#forkface x reader#frank x reader
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I hope you know you're really worth it.
Hello fellas!! Are you guys doing well? Sleeping and eating? I hope yes! I'm happy to be back writing by my own will, not just for full fill requests (something my little burnout brain can't do perfectly) There's another MCR fanfic, since this fellas are the reason I smile everyday 👾
Warnings: This fic contains pet names such as: angel, sweetheart, darling and pretty thing; multiartist!reader, sex, gn!reader, implicit afab!reader (I'll try my best to not describe genitals), kind of dom!Frank Iero, grammar mistakes cuz my English sucks. Some angst and a scar (implicit SH) mention. If any of this things can make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to leave and maybe read something else from my blog
1st of August, another month, another week, another day. Honestly, your life's being a stupid watercolor blur, the hours and the moments and the pain just mix with your emptiness.
You've been feeling real down, a horrible self-esteem and lack of creativity. Basically, you're experiencing a severe burnout. Being an artist, you know how much the quality of your creations tends to decrease when you're going through something like this.
But... in the middle of your chaotic situation, you have someone who can always make you laugh, flush, giggle, smile and have pleasure. Your beloved one, Frank Iero. Which you call as "Frankie"... You can't understand how you got so lucky in your life to have someone as sweet as him to love and take care of you.
Well, as sweet and adorable as it looks like, you've been having struggles with him too. Not because of his actions, but because of your fear of losing him. Anytime you went to a walk with him, and you see him looking to someone, you couldn't help but feel insecure, afraid that he might be desiring them.
You know it's just some paranoia and he would never do something like this to you, at least is what your rational part wants you to believe.
8 p.m, you're laid down on your sofa, with a small blanket covering your legs. You're waiting for Frank to arrive home. You're looking around your living room, trying to distract yourself from the scars on your arm, they really aren't helping your self-esteem. You notice that your cat is there, she seems happy, meowing around and chasing a little fly. God... How much you wish you were happy like a cat.
You couldn't do anything but feel overwhelmed with your pain. Your work, art, family, your partner, yourself. Before you could notice, you're collapsing into tears, and so focused in your crying, you don't listen to the key turning in the door. Frank arrived, but instead of a happy partner, he finds you crying and hopelessly on the couch.
"Sweetheart! Are you ok?" Frank said, no taking too long to go towards the couch and hug you. "Shh... shh... it's ok... I'm here, it will be fine.." Honestly that's all you needed. You let yourself focus on the moment, while he strokes your hair gently. After some minutes in completely silence, he decides to ask. "What happened angel? Why were you crying?" You really want to answer him, but all you could say was "Frankie, am I worth your love?"
Frank was surprised, there wasn't many questions in this world that would make him feel so sad as he was now. He wasn't showing his partner enough love? How could he be so fool to let his own partner think something like this?
"Oh sweetheart... you are the prettiest person I ever met in my whole life. Of course you're worth it" You finally could feel yourself calming down a little, In the heat of the moment, he kisses you on the lips, sweet but really sloppy.
What was supposed to be an innocent little kiss turns into a make out session, with some naughty hands and pleasure moans. Your tears couldn't even be noticed anymore, they're drying more and more as Frank caress your face with so much caring and love.
Your senses are filled by his scent, your body sensitive to his hands caressing through your favorite spots. He breaks the kiss, not gasping for air, but on the way to kiss and suck at your neck.
His kisses send shivers down your spine and his hickeys makes you feel something else down there. He seems more desperate than you, alternating between kissing you mouth and your neck.
Noticing that you're aroused, Frank finally decides to act, passing his hands through your body, until he arrives your waistband, lowering your pajama pants down. Getting on top of you, he starts grinding against your crotch in anticipation.
"Darling, I wish I could give you my eyes... My ears... My thoughts, so you could understand that everything you do is incredible, so you could see yourself the way I see you" His soft words making the perfect contrast with his hands lowering your underwear in a quick movement, throwing it somewhere on the floor.
"Frankie, I love you so much" he smiled to you. He starts to undo his belt, getting rid of his pants and underwear, not bothering in looking where he threw it at. Oh, how could you hold yourself when he is stroking his cock while looking in your eyes? You left out a desperate whine. "Please! C'mon Frankie!"
Who he is to deny you your pleasure? He aligned himself to your entrance, before pushing in slowly and delicate, making you let out sweet moans and some curses. You and Frankie mostly fuck, but not today, today he was making love to you, passionate and pleasuring love.
His thrusts delicate but deep, a sensual pace that made him be able to touch all your sweet spots. Your hole clenching around him, your bodies so connected and heated, his sweating face, your moans, his whines. All of this was too much for you, you couldn't help but let it out go, cumming without advise.
"Hell yeah! Pretty thing... so beautiful when you cum" his attention suddenly goes to your neck, once again he decided to use all his effort to mark your neck. Despite he never stops the rhythm of his thrusts while he goes to your neck, his legs are shaking a little, his moans are getting louder. A sign that he's going to cum very soon.
After some minutes, he couldn't help anymore, cumming inside of you. Collapsing over the couch, next to you. "Hey sweetheart... I hope you know you're really worth it" with a small giggle, you let yourself fall asleep slowly next to your love. Maybe you still going to have troubles to create and maybe you still feel a little sad... But at least you have the sweetest lover in the world, right there for you.
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Scrambled Eggs P2
(3rd POV)
*At the Overlord meeting*
"Hmph. Fine. Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers. Kiss my ass." Velvette flicked them off, cackling as she left.
"What the hell? We literally just got here." Zeezi laughed.
Odette turned towards her mother, worry in her face. "Mother?" she asked. Carmilla held up a hand to silence her before leaving, signaling the other Overlords to leave. Alastor caught sight of Zestial following Carmilla and her daughter into her office.
"Hmm! Well, that's interesting." He noticed Frank curled up on the floor, "You little egg creature. I have a job for you." Knowing this was something he could do, Frank perked up, "Oh, yes, boss." "Follow them." The Egg quickly followed the group.
*With the other Hazbin members*
Charlie, Vaggie, (Y/N), and Angel stood by the club door, varying emotions: Charlie was uncomfortable, Vaggie was pissed, Angel was smug and (Y/N) has hiding his hands in his face, peeking through his fingers, his entire face was red.
"Angel! What the actual fuck?!" Vaggie demanded.
Angel had brought them...to a BDSM club.
"No activity requires more trust than BDSM, baby." He wagged his eyebrows at Vaggie, who was scowling, as he played with a pair of pink furred handcuffs with his second set of hands.
"No bond stronger than those formed through bondage." Angel grinned before pointing to a sign nearby, "That's their motto."
It was indeed their motto.
"Angel, love the enthusiasm. But umm, uh...Hmmmm...." Charlie trailed off uncomfortably.
"Wait, what are they doing with that candle to that man's....what the hell?!" gaped (Y/N), eyes shruken as he continued to peek through his fingers.
"What makes you think anyone would be into this?" Vaggie growled, pointing a finger in the white furred spider's face.
A pleased hum filled the air, making the group look over at Husk as he received a back massage. "Ya know, I...I don't hate this..heh." He chuckled to himself, before catching Niffty's scent. He opened his eyes to see Niffty had changed into a black latex dom suit, and was holding a whip in her hand.
"I'm ready to punish some bad boys." she giggled seductively.
"Yee--Never mind. I-I'm out." Husk quickly fled the area. "Okay, hello, there." Charlie crossed her arms over her chest uncomfortably as a demon came and pressed against her,"Hi, um. Hm.."
Vaggie came to her rescue and pushed her towards the door again, "Ugh! I can't fucking belive I let you drag us down here, Angel! This is disgusting."
"It's no big deal Vaggie." Charlie smiled, "You know, maybe I can just help, uh.."
"No. I told you, you could trust me. And I'm not going to let you down." Promised Vaggie as she grinned to herself. "I just need to teach them the way I was taught."
Meanwhile (Y/N) yelped feeling multiple hands roam over his body. "Oh, no, no, I am not interested. Please stop touching me," hands continue to roam and he flinched feeling someone lick his ear. He could feel his temper running thin, "Okay, I asked you once, now I'm telling you! Leave me alone." He growled, as the demons touching him continued to touch him.
He was about to panic curse these demons when someone yelled out,"Hey! He already ask youse to stop! And he's taken! Back off!" Hissed Angel, standing at his full height, eyes now glowing a fushia color as he pulled the prince into his arms protectively. "Yeah, let's get outta here." Angel said, pushing the prince towards the door.
*On the rooftop*
"THIS IS HOW YOU LEARNED TO TRUST PEOPLE?" screamed Charlie as she and the others watched the battle below.
"There is nothing stronger than the trust between comrades in arms!" Vaggie shouted in her Sargent voice. "Buckle up, buttercups, because today you boys become men!" she smirked darkly as an explosion went off, making her hair fly to the side, making her more sinister looking than normal.
"Ah, fuck it." (Y/N) smiled darkly before standing on the edge, he pulled out his own angelic sword from his left wrist band, gripping it tightly in his right hand, before stepping off of the ledge, laughing wildly.
The other's blinked before Vaggie shook her head and she stalked forward and grabbed Sir Pentious as if he weighed nothing. "Wait, wait! I can't fight without my minions!" He screamed as he was thrown into the brawl going on downstairs.
"You are going to survive together!" she turned towards Angel who backed up, stuttering, holding out his white clad gloved hands out as if that would stop her. "D-Don't you even think about it!" "You are going to make this hotel work!" she tossed him over the edge as he screamed on the way down. Husk took the opportunity to leave before she noticed him, and silently closed the door.
Niffty grinned, doing 'up' motions to be picked up to be thrown over, "My turn, my turn!" She was almost thrown over when Charlie snatched her into her arms. "Vaggie, no!" "This is the only way they'll learn, Charlie."
"No, it's not! There are other ways. It just takes time!"
"Time we don't have! How many exterminations will have gone by before these idiots get their shit together? How many times do we have to watch your people be killed before we make headway?"
Vaggie turned away, clearly feeling some anxiety.
"Vaggie..." Charlie started before her girlfriend spoke up again. "I took charge today and it all went sideways. I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality. I'm supposed to never fail you." she looked down at the warzone, barely hearing Angel's scream of, "I blame you for this, you crazy bitch!" over (Y/N)'s cackling as he continued to fight through the demons without a scratch on him.
"You didn't fail me." Charlie tried to explain as Vaggie turned from her. "You're not--" "If I can't help you, then what's the point of me?"
The princess gasped sharply, "Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's--" "I'm sorry, I'd like to be alone for a minute." Vaggie spoke quietly.
Charlie nodded before silently walking towards the door. Angel Dust had made his way up to the to roof with a Sir Pentious in over his shoulder, and (Y/N) walking behind him with a wide grin on his face, Niffty sitting on one of his arms as he carried her. Niffty was covered in blood, and (Y/N) was almost spotless, except the cut on his face one lucky demon was able to get on him.
That was okay, because (Y/N) quickly got the fucker back with one of his kunai feathers.
Angel threw Pentious on the ground before sighing heavily, "Made it." He cheered breathlessly.
"Let's go home, guys." Charlie said, looking downcast.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow as he sensed the energy from the two women, but he knew how to read a room....well, roof. His....boyfriend (?) on the other hand..did not.
"Ugh! I just walked up all those stairs." He grabbed Pentious' tail and started dragging the traumatized demon behind him, his lover watching with an amused smile.
*With Carmilla*
Carmilla muttered under her breath as she poured a glass of liquor. She lifted it to her lips before changing her mind and chugging straight from the bottle, her daughters and friend watching in worry.
"Carmilla, what troubles thou? Losing thy composure is unlike thee." Zestial asked, concern on his face. "It's nothing Zestial, really." sighed the white haired woman.
"The felled angel, t'was by thy hand, was it not?" he asked. "Let's not talk about it." she walked away to her desk.
"Mom...maybe he should know." Clara spoke up, watching her mother. "Nobody should know. I did what I had to. I am not discussing this." Carmilla pinched her forehead in frustration. The sisters looked at each other before looking away.
*With Alastor*
The Radio Demon watched as the Egg Bois played in trash. "Ooh, this smells like fun." One of them yelled. "I love garbage!" Another yelled as the elavator dinged, allowing Frank to get off.
Alastor stopped him with his cane, "So, what did you hear?" he asked. "First the old guy w-was all, 'you're not yourself, you're the one that killed the angel', a-a-and then she was all, 'Whatever it takes--."
"And then what was that last thing?" Alastor leaned down to side eye the egg. "She killed the angel?" he asked.
"Interesting." hummed the red clad deer. "Let's keep this between us, shall we?" he glowed a bright red, voodoo signs appearing around him. "You got it, boss!"
*Back at the hotel*
"Hey." Vaggie greeted her girlfriend from where she was leaning against the railing. "Hey," Charlie said softly.
Vaggie sighed, standing next to Charlie. "I'm sorry I got so crazy today."
Charlie grabbed her hands, "No, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put so much pressure on you. We work as a team." Vaggie let Charlie talk. "I guess, I just thought this all this would be easier..But we'll figure it out...together." They shared a soft smile before Charlie gestured to the men sitting around the lounge area. "I mean, look what your exercise did for them."
*Down in the lounge area*
Laughter could be heard in the hotel. "And then, when that buff guy started beating the shit outta you." Angel laughed, white gloved hands mimicking someone beating Pentious, before leaning back into (Y/N)'s side, the prince's arm falling around the spider's shoulders.
"Ha ha! With the dismembered arm! Yes! That was particularly...unpleasent." Sir Pentious' face and shoulders dropped as he frowned, remembering the incident. Niffty appeared from under the table, giggling, "I liked that part."
"Well, hey, at least you can take a beating like champ." Husk complimented, before walking over to the snake, "You did good, new kid." He smiled into his booze before walking away as Angel and (Y/N) walked over to the two.
"Really? Oh, well, I suppose I did get into a little of the old rough and tumble today. Haha!" Pentious laughed before turning to the white furred spider demon, hand out. "And thank you for pulling me out of there." he said, shyly.
Angel laughed, hitting the snake on his back in a playful manner, the others joining him in his laughter, until Niffty started laughing manically, making the others stare at her weirded out.
(Y/N) merely knelt in front of Niffty, patting her head with a soft smile, "You were pretty killer out there, too, little lady." He chuckled before standing up, "You might be one of the only fighters I've seen who creeped their opponents out so much that they leave the battle willingly!"
"And you, (Y/N)! Where has that side been, man? Holdin' out on us, Prince?" grinned Husk. "Hey, you can't be the son of Lucifer and not know how to fight. Don't ya know it's the quite ones you have to look out for?" His eyes glowed an eerie red as he grinned darkly showing his fangs.
"Damn, my boyfriend is hot." Angel grinned, as he pulled on his collar, a light pink dusting his cheeks.
*Upstairs in the balcony*
"Well, how about that?" Vaggie smiled before hearing the door slam. "Alastor!" She called, "Failed to get rid of the eggs, I see."
"Yes, well, the little monsters prove to be rather useful." He grinned to himself as the other members approached.
"Why don't you give them back to Pentious?" Vaggie smiled. "Really?" gasped Pentious.
"Yeah, after today, I guess I can trust you with them. But seriously, no more weapons." She glared.
"Ahhh!! My eggs! Yeah." He squealed, looking down at the creatures. "Oh, it's so good to have you back. Now, go clean my quarters this instant!" He yelled, watching the Eggs salute him before rushing off.
"Maybe things will move faster than you think." Charlie smiled proudly at Vaggie who smiled softly back.
*In Pentious' room*
"Ah! How was your day with Alastor, my minions?" He asked, laying down. "It was awesome, boss! I went to this meeting, and there was this knife lady, and old guy,and a dinosaur!" Frank gushed.
"That's nice." hummed the snake, half asleep. "And the nice lady killed an angel." Frank puffed out his chest proudly. "And I was not supposed to talk about it." He facepalmed himself.
"Oh, I'm so sure, and maybe tomorrow, you'll meet martians tomorrow. But now, it's time for sleep. Good night, Eggies." Pentious smiled as the Eggs cuddled into him.
*With (Y/N)*
(Y/N) hummed as Angel brushed his wet hair. It was a long day, and (Y/N) still couldn't believe that Angel shared his feelings! But now that they're together,(Y/N) wasn't as flustered when Angel made his jokes and gestures, because he knows that's not Angel Dust whose flirting with him, that's Anthony.
Angel Dust is part of Anthony, but it was Anthony who (Y/N) knew needed help. At least mentally; but now both Anthony and Angel Dust needed help....and by his father's name, (Y/N) swore he would free the spider.
The hard way or the easy way was completely up to Valentino, but he hoped it was the former option.
Angel suddenly flicked the prince between his eyes. "Whatcha thinkin', about, principesco (prince)?"
"Di quanto sei carina (About how pretty are)." retorted (Y/), as he smiled up at the Italian, cupping his cheek and staring at his eyes, Angel's hair fluff vaugley encompassing them in shadow, their eyes glowing with clear admission and a slight bit of lust.
"Gentile Principe (Kind Prince)." Angel whispered, lips brushing against (Y/N)'s.
(Y/N) pressed his lips against Angel's, "Gentile Principe. (beautiful soul)."
Their first kiss so soft and perfect.
#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#viziepop#hazbin angel dust#x male reader#hazbin lucifer#storydays
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Quick energy reading #0613
these energies would not let me chill so...
like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Shufflemancy: More than you know by Axwell & Ingrosso
You're not losing it, I promise. If someone's been on your mind a lot lately, you've been haunting them, too. And for the few of you where this is less about a specific person and moreso a goal or concern that just will not let you think straight and be present, rest assured that you can release your worries. Just let go. Attract, don't chase. What you want wants you. You really shouldn't be reading this either to be quite frank, because it seems as though you are running around aimless in the woods looking for signs that you're not going crazy. In which case do take this as your final sign that yes, what you feel in your heart to be true is correct. Those of you awake at night tossing and turning because you're awake running marathons in the dreams of another, know that they can barely focus because of you. It is as though half of what you feel when you quiet down is from them, and they can feel you in their energy, too. Your energies have a magnetic pull where you're both constantly in each other's peripheral, lurking like a predator watching its prey. It's not toxic, though, just a little obsessive. They want to see you and be with you, and the distance is making that gravitational pull so much stronger, leading to that addictive nightwatch. Good news and developments are on the horizon, and things will get moving very soon. The barricades put up by you or them or life circumstances are coming down, and quite abruptly at that. This is something that simply cannot be stopped and is inevitable. Sparks are already flying and it'll only get warmer from here, and this is a fire that will continue raging once it starts burning in earnest.
02.
Shufflemancy: Slump (English ver.) by Stray Kids
I don't know what you were told growing up, but if you have too much on your plate it's okay to leave the table and come back to it later. Don't judge yourself if you've bitten off more than you can chew either. Take things one step at a time, and go at exactly the pace you feel comfortable with right now. That pace is bound to change, and it'll change frequently, in fact. Your 100% looks different every day and that's okay. Don't measure your own progress with someone else's ruler. Silence the distractions and the noise and get away if you need solitude. Taking time for yourself does not make you selfish. Anyone who gets upset when you set boundaries would not have respected them anyway had they been there all along. Don't scrap your ideas, finetune them. Start over if you have to, but your previous efforts have not been in vain and can help direct your focus. Every time you tell a story, details change, but because you know the gist of it, things get better and more elaborate each time and gives you more fluidity. Use your ideas and previous attempts to better prepare for a new beginning. Stopping isn't giving up and square one isn't an enemy, but a teacher. In terms of love you may find yourself in separation of some kind. Perhaps you're not seeing eye to eye or there has been distance, or even radio silence, between you. I wouldn't worry too much about it, however. Your inward focus makes you more magnetic and what is for you will use that as a guiding light to come to you.
03.
Shufflemancy: You by Tornike Kipiani
Time for some spring cleaning? Alright. If there is something you need to discard that no longer serves you, do it now. You've been thinking about it for a reason. Life is not a game of chess, so stop overthinking things. Your need to perfect the outcome is leaving you at a stalemate when really you should be moving forward. Do what you want to do and say what you want to say. Don't put up with the status quo or let outside circumstances restrict you. Things will work out in your favour if you just stop white-knuckling the reins and follow your heart down the path of what you desire. The light at the end of the tunnel is not as far away as it seems. I'll have to tell you the same thing I told pile 1: what you want wants you. If you have set your sight on something, or someone, they very much have their eyes on you too. Circumstances may appear too difficult, or even inappropriate, to allow a pursuit, but between consenting adults, who's really to say what you can and cannot do? The same applies to goals, too. If something appears like a distant pipe dream, it's not the circumstances that need to change, but your mindset. And if you've been telling yourself what you do and do not deserve, remember that harsh criticism and narrow boxes that do not fit quite right hurt for a reason. If you're disappointed with what you have, try something else. Telling yourself you can't have it hurts because you know in your heart that you can but the wires between head and heart are faulty, disconnected perhaps, and you're only hearing the voice of the critic and the hater, not the hypeman and the lover.
#pac reading#pick a card#intuitive reading#energy reading#pick a pile#pick a card reading#pick a picture#tarot reading#so much for trying to enjoy my woodland getaway lmao#soapy.post
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Kinktober 2024 - October 17th
Squirting // Dom - Sub // Period Sex
Adam 'Frank' Barrett x Fem!Reader
Rating: 18+, explicit
Word count: 700>
Warnings: period sex, vampire Frank giving you oral
Kinktober List || Masterlist || AO3
"Fuckkk Frank"
Digging your fingernails into the wall, you grind against Frank's face roughly. Seeing him kneeling down lapping all of you up was a sight to behold. Every so often, his crystal blue eyes would peak out from under you, just to make sure you're enjoying yourself as much as he is. There's a feral quality to them, his eyes never seemed to look at you...more like through you. Frank literally growls as he forces his tongue deeper inside of you.
His nose rubs against your clit as he does this. His low growling vibrating against your core, increasing your pleasure. You grab his hair, shoving him deeper inside of you. He loves this. His growls turn into moans as he grabs your ass, his fingertips squeezing you tight, as his tongue swirls deeper inside of you.
Fangs rub against your folds, and every so often, he would nibble lightly at your clit. When he drank your pussy dry, he would bite the inside of your thigh to replenish it. He never wanted it to end. The bites were painful at first, but seeing how it made Frank go crazy and how this resulted in him devouring you, made everything okay.
You don't care if the others heard you at this point. If they were still alive. The only thing that mattered to you was pleasuring Frank. And the only thing to him was pleasuring you. Making you taste all the sweeter. Your menstrual blood mixed with your arousal was like nectar to him and his new vampire abilities. Fuck flying when you can have this.
Frank's fingernails dig into your back, lightly scraping down your body. You arch your back as he does so, your legs starting to shake.
You're close and Frank knows it. He can hear your heart quicken, doubly so every time he flicks his tongue along your clit. He wants nothing more than for you to cum on his tongue and to taste your release.
Being on your period seems to have heightened all of your senses; your clit more sensitive, his scratching more intense... A lot of men would be repulsed at giving you oral during this time of the month, but not Frank. But of course, being a vampire helps.
Your pace slows down as Frank teases the orgasm out of you with his tongue. He hooks his arms under your legs, spreading them apart, feeling you gush into his mouth. Gripping his hair for dear life, you cum, hard, onto his face. There's a symphony of moans from the two of you. Your loud swearing simmering down into a gentle pant.
Frank doesn't know which part of you tastes better, your cum or your blood. The cocktail of the two is his newest weakness. On his knees, worshiping the concoction flooding out of your pussy. Frank doesn't even realise that he's also cumming, in his pants, like a horny teenager. But he doesn't care. His cock pulses just at the very taste of you. He groans as he lifts his head off you, somehow gasping for breath despite never needing oxygen again, thanks to his new abilities.
You lift your frizzy hair out of your face as you look down at Frank. You're surprised that his face isn't covered in blood, he's licked up every last drop, like a man starved.
He slowly gets up, you can't help but notice the wet patch that's formed in his trousers. You make a mental note and smile to yourself. Making a few leftover satisfied noises, you look at Frank. His fangs still on show, his gaze piercing through you. Most people would think him monstrous, but you find him oddly alluring. Why he became ten times more attractive when he turned into a vampire, you'll never know. But the oral is a bit of a giveaway.
You wait for Frank to say something. A quiet tension filling the room. You're not sure whether he wants to fuck you again or kill you, as he eyes up your body. Frank pushes into you, forcing you backwards, up against the wall. He lifts your neck upwards, granting him access.
"You taste...", Frank's breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply and licks his lips, "...divine."
"I think I'll keep you", he pats your chest before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. You close your eyes leaning into the kiss, catching a taste and a quick waft of you on his breath.
As you open them, Frank is gone.
But he'll be back.
How could he stay away?
#fanfic#abigail#dan stevens#frank abigail#reader#adam barrett#frank x reader#abigail movie#adam barrett x reader#abigail 2024#absurdthurst kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober
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Chapter 4: ‘Picnics, Phartzac and Painful Goodbyes’
Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)
Series Masterlist
This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.
Summary: When their plane is diverted to Thorpe Abbott airfield Hope and Ruth's lives change forever. These two brave nurses must face the trials and tribulations of war, as well as suffering the heartache that war inevitable brings with it.
Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads
Sunday, August 15th, 1943: AAF Grove, Berkshire: 2000 HRS
The constant ticking of the clock in the corner of the base supply closet was the only sound filling the air as the Angel of Death’s nurses tallied their bandages, morphine syrettes, and other supplies that needed refilling after their busy weeks in the air. Looking up from her clipboard, Ruth sighed, seeing Hope staring at the wall before her in a daze.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Ruth called quietly, already having an idea of who was on her friend’s mind.
Hope blinked a few times and looked over at the blonde with a half-hearted smile. “Gale…I miss him.”
“I know,” she sighed softly, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “I miss Johnny, too. It’s been almost three weeks. I love his letters but-”
“It’s not the same,” Hope finished for her.
Before either of the women could continue a voice echoed through the almost empty building. “You girls in here?”
Frank.
“We’re in the back!”
His shoes clacked against the concrete floors as he made his way to the back storage room, sending the girls a half-grin when he stuck his head inside the door. If they were paying attention, they would have noticed the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“How’re you two holding up?”
Their eyes met briefly, silently communicating whether or not they would be truthful. Ruth’s pale blues decided the answer was no, and Hope’s gaze moved back to her clipboard.
“We’re fine,” she answered, reaching up to grab a bandage from the crate. “Just tired.”
Frank moved to lean his shoulder against the doorframe, holding his captain’s cap under his arm as he spoke gently. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
He looked over at them with a worried expression as the ticking of the clock filled the room again, neither of them speaking up. “You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?”
Ruth’s stomach sank. “Of course,” she murmured, turning to mirror Hope, who had her back turned to the man while filling up supply boxes.
Frank sighed and ran a tired hand down his face. “How about you both call it a day, huh? Go get some chow and then relax. You’ve been going almost non-stop for weeks.”
Since their last visit to Thorpe Abbotts on July 31st, they’d spent almost every day in the air, transporting patients from Italy to Africa, sometimes spending the night in nurses' tents in the middle of the Tunisian desert. If they weren’t on a run, they were doing things around the base, constantly on the move in preparation for the worsening invasion of Sicily. The sheer volume of casualties was horrendous, and it seemed that the men got younger with each one they laid eyes on.
Carnage takes a toll…and not just on those fighting on the fronts with bullets flying around them.
“Come on,” Frank urged, throwing his cap back on. He walked over and pulled each of them under an arm, turning toward the closet door. “That’s an order.”
Hope raised an eyebrow at him, unable to keep a smirk off her lips. “What makes you think we’re gonna start listening to you now?”
This time that Frank smiled, it was genuine. “I am a Captain, after all, Lieutenants.”
He walked them to the main exit of the hut, released them from his hold, and opened the door for them. They each wore a grin, and he saw it as a win. “Now go eat up. I’ll make sure everything makes it on the Angel.”
As he lightly pushed the pair out the door, Ruth turned around. “There’s just one thing I need-”
“I got it, Ruth,” he interrupted. “I promise.”
Hope grabbed the blonde’s arm gently, pulling her out the door behind her. “Come on, Rue. I’m starving.”
Watching from the windows as the women made their way to the mess hall, Frank sighed. He had come in a few minutes before he announced himself, and had heard the girls’ conversation. Part of him felt guilty for eavesdropping on them, but another part of him was glad he overheard it. Out of the three of them, he was the only one who had the power to do anything about the situation.
It was no secret they reminded him of his younger sister Grace back home, and from the first time they met, the trio formed a close bond that was only deepened when they went up together for their first casualty evacuation. Frank’s heart ached to see the normally bubbly women so down, and he knew he had to do something about it.
Marching over to a nearby desk, Frank grasped the phone and held it up to his ear.
The operator’s voice crackled through the receiver. “Number please.”
“Norfolk, 7322, please,” he replied.
Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich
“Good job today, boys,” Johnny praised, raising his glass toward the other crew in the Officer’s Club bar. “I heard you stayed tight in formation, just like we taught ‘ya.”
Earlier in the day, select crews of the 100th had taken part in a mission targeting aircraft factories in Merville and Lille, both in occupied France. The mission was a success, and the ‘Bloody Hundredth’ defied its nickname by bringing all its forts home safely.
“It wasn’t your aftershave, Buck, but I still stayed close enough,” Claytor called from across the bar where he sat with the rest of Alice From Dallas’ crew.
Buck grinned, taking a sip of his ginger beer. “I’d expect nothing less, Roy.”
A familiar trumpet solo echoing through the hall stole Johnny’s attention, and his eyes rose from his almost empty glass to the dance floor, his mind taking him back to the last time he heard Artie Shaw’s Star Dust…
when he had danced with Ruth and held her so close.
Gale’s hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his memory, his heart beating loudly in his chest just as it had been that night.
“John,” Gale said with a raised eyebrow. “Did you hear me?”
Egan nodded and pursed his lips, running a hand over his mustache briefly. “Yeah,” he rasped.
“What did I say?”
Pulling out his signature raised eyebrow grin, Johnny reached up and tapped Gale’s cheek. “That I’m the best pilot in the 100th…and I have to say that I agree with ‘ya.”
Buck just rolled his eyes and shook his head at the man. “That’s definitely not what I said.”
Drinking the rest of his pint, John raised a few fingers at the bartender, who slid a full one over to him.
“Then what did you say, Buck?” he asked, quickly gulping down half of the new glass. The major had already had a few shots earlier in the night, and he was starting to feel the familiar buzz. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and warmth coursed through his veins.
“It doesn’t matter,” Gale huffed, sipping his drink. “What were you dazed off thinking about? A certain blonde, perhaps?”
Bucky shifted his position against the bartop to face him and nodded once with a shrug. “Maybe,” he paused, his smirk falling to a frown as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “I miss her.”
Out of all the things that Gale Cleven thought would come out of his friend’s mouth, the words “I miss her” were not what he expected. Sure, he knew John liked Ruth, and Hope had even told him that Ruth liked him back, but hearing it from his mouth made it real. The longing in his voice surprised the Major. In the three years the two knew each other, he couldn’t recall the older man ever speaking about a woman in such a tender way.
“Me too,” Buck replied softly, his own heart aching to see Hope.
“You too, huh?” Johnny quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned closer to Gale. “Well, last I checked, Hope’s the one you should be missin’. Ruth’s my girl, remember?”
Buck rolled his eyes, a chuckle escaping his lips despite doing everything to hold it in. “Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, his tone tinged with amusement. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
“Hopeless romantic, you mean.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of hopelessly stupid.”
Johnny feigned offence and placed a hand over his heart. “Come on now, what’s life without a little excitement, right?”
“Speak for yourself, Johnny boy,” Buck replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Some of us prefer a quieter existence.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to play it safe.”
Gale shook his head, scoffing playfully under his breath and bringing his glass to his lips. “Hopeless.”
John’s grin widened as he glanced over at him, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “You’re the only Hope-less one here.”
Buck froze with his glass on his lips for a moment until he turned to Johnny with a confused and somewhat incredulous expression. “That was terrible, Bucky.”
“What? It’s funny. I thought it was pretty clever,” John insisted, chuckling to himself.
Gale just shook his head, using all his willpower to remain stoic. “Not really.”
Undeterred, John persisted, tilting his head toward Buck. “Come on, it’s a little funny.”
Finally, Cleven’s facade fell, and a tiny smile quirked his lips. “Okay, maybe just a little,” he conceded.
“See, I told you-”
The thump of a phone being placed on the counter in front of them cut him off, and both men looked up confused, their serious moment broken. Kidd held the receiver up to his ear. “Operator, I’ve got Major Cleven here.”
“Why do we keep getting calls at the bar?” John asked loudly as Jack handed Buck the phone, and Cleven shot him a “shut up” glare.
“Hello.”
“Is this Major Cleven?” the voice asked.
“It is,” Buck replied, looking over at Johnny skeptically. The other major then leaned close to hear the conversation. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Frank Martin. The girls’ pilot.”
At the mention of the nurses, all amusement fell from their faces and they shared a worried glance. John suddenly felt sick to his stomach, and every ‘what if’ ran through Gale’s mind.
Why would he be calling?
Readjusting the earpiece, Buck cleared the emotion from his throat. “Are…are the girls okay?”
“Sorry, Major. Don’t worry, they’re alright,” he winced, able to hear the concern in the other man’s voice. “I’m just calling because they need a pick-me-up, and I was wondering if I could bring them by the base tomorrow-”
While Buck let out a relieved breath, John’s face lit up and he grabbed the phone from Gale’s ear, unable to contain his excitement. “Yes!” he shouted into the phone, causing all eyes to turn towards the bar. When they realized it was just Bucky being Bucky, they all went back to their conversations. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all, Frank!”
“What is wrong with you?” Buck hissed, snatching the phone back from him.
How Ruth calmed the man and riled him up at the same time, Buck would never understand.
Kidd shot him a look that mirrored Buck’s question and John shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re so lonely, Jack,” he smirked, talking louder to be heard over the music. “I get to see my girl! You should be happy for me! I was just talk-”
“Will you shut the hell up, Bucky?!” Gale snapped as he held the phone back up to his ear. His eyes narrowed, remaining on Johnny as he spoke. “Sorry, Frank. Major Egan’s had a little too much to drink tonight.”
On the other side of the line in Berkshire, Frank was more than confused at how the loud, boisterous man could ever be with someone like Ruth. “I can tell.”
“We’d love to see the girls tomorrow. What time do you think you’ll be here?”
The Captain scratched his 5 o’clock shadow, calculating the drive time in his mind. “Around 1 in the afternoon, probably. If everything goes to plan, that is.”
“Thank you for doing this, Frank. We owe you big time.”
“Of course. Don’t tell ‘em I told you this,” he sighed, ”But they need a break, even if it’s just for a few hours. And as much as I hate to admit it, they miss you both like crazy…I just want to see ‘em happy.”
Gale’s heart sped up in his chest, and he looked over at Bucky who was staring off at the dance floor yet again, a soft grin on his lips. “Yeah, we know the feeling. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
The call ended with a click, and John threw his arm over Buck’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “I had a feeling tomorrow was gonna be a good day!”
Curt then appeared next to them, leaning on the bar top. “So I hear your nurses are coming into town tomorrow?”
“Don’t you go getting any ideas, now,” John grinned down at him, his mind starting to fall back under the influence after his moment of clarity. He reached down and picked up his pint, about to gulp the rest down when he had a sudden thought.
‘What are you doing?’ his mind screamed at him. ‘You can’t be hungover.’
Placing the pint back onto the bartop, he pushed it away from him, motioning for the bartender. “Can I -uh- get a water, please?”
Curt, Buck, and Jack all shared confused glances, and Kidd was the one to speak up. “I didn’t even know you drank water.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Jack,” John replied, chugging the glass, a few droplets falling from his chin to his dress jacket. “I don’t think Ruth would appreciate me being hungover tomorrow.”
Jack scoffed lightly, his brow raised skepticaly at him. “Who are you and what have you done with John Egan?”
It was the thought running through all their minds. Out of the three of them, he knew the least about Ruth’s effect on John, Curt and Buck having witnessed it themselves over the past few weeks.
“It looks like Ruth has done in a little over a month what women have tried for 27 years.” Biddick grinned, throwing his arm around the major.
With a chuckle, Johnny lowered his glass and looked up at his friend. “And what is that?”
“She’s tamed you.”
Egan’s brows shot up in surprise, and Buck laughed loudly from beside him, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. “I wouldn’t say that, Curt,” he retorted. “Tamed is a strong word. Maybe more like watered down.”
John shrugged, pursing his lips. “Whatever. All I know is that Hope seems to have the opposite effect on you, Buck.”
“Oh no. Here we go again,” Gale groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Please don’t-”
Bucky grinned, pointing past the major to Kidd. “Jack, have you heard the story?”
“I have not.”
“So it’s the night of the dance. Ruth and I were dancing, right? We’re having a great time and then here comes Charlie…”
Frank watched as the Major left the base, waving goodbye to the few officers that remained to keep everyone in line. He only had a few short hours to get his plane to work and everything had to go exactly as planned.
He’d already spoken to the officer in charge who agreed to let Hope and Ruth have a day off after their weeks of endless work and seeing that there records showed they had the most men evacuated back to England in stable conditions, agreed that it was only fair. He had their passes tucked neatly away in his flight jacket, not trusting the girls not to misplace them in the meantime.
The Austin was parked around the back of the officers barracks. The car was in pristine condition and was the Majors pride and joy. Luckily with the Major off base everyone would assume he’d taken his car with him so it’s absence wouldn’t be missed.
All Frank had to do was get it from the officers barracks and park it around the back in the store room by the C47’s overnight. The officers, he’d found out, had a meeting that morning and it was his best chance to ensure their barracks were empty.
Walking down the narrow, wooden path between the barracks, Frank checked over his shoulder repeatedly. He hadn’t felt this crafty since he’d been playing tricks on his younger sister all those years ago.
The car was parked exactly where it should be. Blue bodywork gleaming beautifully, silver-coloured wheels polished and the hoods fitted over the lights to fit with blackout regulations. The keys, as always, were in the glove compartment and Frank thanked his lucky stars that everything was going just right.
Pushing them into the ignition, the engine roared to life in all its glory and Frank couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride sitting behind the wheel of such a fine vehicle.
He drove the car quickly out onto the road and down towards where the planes were taxied, pulling off the main road through the base and cutting down the empty runway. There was something exhilarating about driving at 60 in a car like this and Frank felt a little flourish of the boy of his youth living out a childhood dream.
Pulling the car up into the store room, he ignored the looks of the ground crew Sergeant, who quickly dismissed whatever Frank was doing and continued his way across base.
He pulled a large sheet over the Austin, covering it from prying eyes before locking the store room door and walking away, whistling a little tune to himself as he went.
He wasn’t sure how his plane had worked so flawlessly but he’d thank God in his nightly prayers that it had. He had the passes, he had the car, now all he needed to do was tell the girls.
The Next Morning: Monday, August 16, 0900 HRS
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Frank stood outside hut number four in the chilly morning air, banging his fist against the tiny covered window between Hope and Ruth’s beds. “Wake up, sleeping beauties! I’ve got some good news for ya!”
Stirring from her sleep, Hope became vaguely aware of her surroundings. Ruth was sleeping to her right, curled in on herself under the covers as she whimpered and mumbled incoherently, turning over onto her back.
“Is’ alrigh’” the blonde muttered, her brows furrowed.
Hope peeled back her blanket, ready to wake up her dreaming friend, but two more loud knocks beat her to it. The sound woke Ruth with a start, and her eyes shot open, frantically scanning the hut as her chest heaved. After a few moments, she seemed to get her bearings and looked over at Hope with a hand on her forehead.
“You okay?” Hope asked carefully.
Ruth nodded stiffly, brushing some stray hairs from her forehead. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“I know.”
Frank’s voice came through the thin walls again, and Hope rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you two! Come out here!”
“I think he’s full of it,” Ruth chimed, sitting up against the wall. “Why does he keep waking us up like this?”
“Probably because it’s the most annoying. It’s what Hugh would do.”
“Yeah. Sounds about ri-”
BANG. BANG.
“I can hear you in there!” Frank shouted, his lips almost against the window as he got as close as humanly possible to them from the outside. “Come out here! Really! I have something important to tell you!”
The duo shared an annoyed glance and slowly made their way to the door. “This better be good, Frank!” Hope groaned as she pulled it open. Just like the last time he had woken them up with a few sharp knocks and some yelling, they were the only ones in the hut. Most of the other nurses were out on missions or doing work abound base.
Grinning from ear to ear, Frank sauntered from their window to the door. “Morning.”
“Cut the crap,” Hope retorted with an eye roll. “What’s this super important thing we need to know?”
The man broke out in chuckles at her direct attitude and readjusted his crusher cap atop his head, his lips pulling into a slight grimace. “So I heard you two talking in the supply room last night about the guys-”
“What?” Ruth gasped, sticking her head out from the doorframe to glare at him, her brows furrowed.
“You sneaky, son of a-”
He threw his hands up in surrender. “Hold on. Let me finish before you kill me, alright?”
Though they were still glaring up at him, the women nodded slowly, and he took a deep breath. “Because I hate to see you both upset, I worked it out for us to have the day off.”
Frank’s eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for them to catch on to what he was saying, but all he was met with was confusion. “Thanks for that, Frank, but how is that “super” important?” Hope asked, tilting her head at him quizzically.
“I got us a car,” he added, his grin widening as his eyes widened in anticipation.
Ruth looked even more confused. “I’m not following.”
“Oh for crying out loud!” the captain grumbled, slapping his palm across his face as he shook his head. “Ruth’s a blonde, so she has an excuse, but Hope, you ought to have caught on already.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped and she barely concealed an incredulous grin. “Hey!” she defended.
Removing his cap, Frank ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. “I’m taking you to Thorpe Abbotts for Pete’s sake!”
Hope and Ruth stood silent for a moment as each of their minds came to the realization of what that meant. He watched on as their confused expressions faded into pure joy and their eyes lit up, huge grins painting their lips.
Frank couldn’t help but smile, his heart warming at the sight before him. “Don’t thank me all at onc-”
Their bodies colliding into his cut him short, and his senses were filled with unintelligible squealing as they hugged him tightly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Now, this does not mean you have my blessing, alright?” he remarked as they released him from their death grip. “I just hate seein’ you two so miserable.”
“When are we leaving?”
Peering down at his watch, Frank smirked. “An hour.”
The nurses’ faces turned from glee to horror at his words, and within a split second, they ran back into the hut, slamming the door behind them as they frantically got ready.
THORPE ABBOTTS AAF BASE, NORWICH: 1257 HRS
By the time the car rumbled to Thorpe Abbotts’ MP gate, it was 12:57.
‘Perfect timing,’ Frank thought as he glanced in the rearview mirror at the girls who were running their fingers through their styled hair with excited grins.
The MP approached the car, a friendly smile on his face. “How are ya’?
“Good, sir,” Frank nodded. Captain Martin. We’re here to see-”
“You’re good to go, Captain. Major Egan said to keep an eye out for you,” the man interrupted, nodding for him to go on. “Tell Bucky he owes me one!”
“Will do.”
At the mention of John, Ruth perked up even more in her seat. She had thought about seeing him again from the moment they had last said goodnight, her mind reminding her of the warm and giddy feeling that coursed through her body in his presence.
Hope reached over and squeezed her hand tightly as she spoke. “I’m so excited.”
“Me too. I can’t wait to see him!”
Frank listened in from the front seat, his brotherly protective instincts kicking in. “Hope, you taught Ruth your right hook, right?”
“I tried to,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her friend. “She knows the basics.”
“Go for the crotch, Ruth,” the man advised, nodding at her in the rearview. “It's our weakness, okay?”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled under her breath, her gaze turning to stare at the window at the passing concrete buildings. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
His attention turned to the other nurse. “And do you still have what I gave you last time?”
Hope’s face instantly heated up as she glared at him.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Be smart.”
They rolled to a stop in front of the main building, and both Hope and Ruth’s stomachs were swirling with nervousness and excitement. The duo shared one last hopeful glance and exited the car.
Hope could hear John’s voice from the other side of the car but she couldn’t concentrate on anything as she scanned the surrounding area. She was soon met with a very smiley Gale, who waved at her from where he was standing on the grass. Hope could make out the large, fluffy dog in front of him that she could only assume was the infamous Meatball.
“Gale,” she called as she finally reached them. Gale didn’t even speak but instead engulfed Hope in a warm and comforting hug. He smelt strongly of his cologne and Hope instantly felt at ease.
“Damn, I’ve missed you,” Gale whispered into Hope’s neck, kissing her cheek lightly before Hope pressed her lips firmly to his. Gale was a little taken aback but soon kissed her in return, his hand winding into her hair and disturbing her neat curls but Hope didn’t care. It felt so good to be back in his arms.
A small whine caused the couple to break apart and Hope laughed as Meatball nudged his ball towards her. “You must be meatball,” Hope crouched down, ruffling his fluffy mane.
“He sure is,” Gale squatted beside her, stroking the dog affectionately.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Meatball,” Hope laughed as the husky nuzzled into her palm. “You’re a sweet boy.”
Footsteps behind them caused the pair to turn, meeting a very smiley Ruth who instantly dove down to greet Meatball, chatting animatedly with the dog.
Hope couldn’t help but grin as she watched John’s gaze follow Ruth and a look of pure adoration spread across his face. She stepped over to him, greeting John with a small hug.
“It’s good to see you again, John.”
“Good to see you too, Hope. How have ya been keeping?”
Hope shrugged, “Not too bad. Glad to finally have a day off. It’s been a tough few weeks.” Hope tried not to dampen the mood but both she and Ruth had been struggling, mentally and physically with the trials of their demanding job. John just nodded and Hope, noticing that Ruth was still occupied with Meatball, decided to offer John some advice.
“Ruth isn’t just another one of your floozy’s, John. She’s a special girl so you better treat her right, otherwise you’ll have Frank and I to deal with. I’ve met your kind before and the poor guy didn’t take too kindly to me punching him in the face, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Is that clear?” She raised her eyebrows waiting for his response, amused as John smirked, scratching the back of his neck,
“Crystal, Lieutenant. I ain’t gonna cause any trouble. I really like Ruth, she’s a great girl and I’m not just planning on messing around with her.”
Hope seemed satisfied with his answer, giving him a small nod before moving back to Gale’s side. John let out a small breath he’d been holding. He’d heard about this other unfortunate guy from Hugh and he didn’t fancy meeting Hope’s right hook.
“So what are you two’s plans for the next…” Buck checked his watch. “Four hours?”
“Uhhh about that,” John smiled cheekily at his friend, snapping his fingers and pointing to him. “I’m borrowing your bike back for the afternoon.”
“What do you mean, ‘borrowing it back?’” Gale asked with furrowed brows.
“Well, Ruthie and I can’t walk all the way to Dickleburgh, and there were no jeeps...so, bikes it is.”
The girls were barely containing their snickers at the way the Majors often went at it like an old married couple.
Buck’s hands moved to his hips. “And what if Hope and I are going off base?”
“Come on, Buck,” Johnny groaned, mirroring his stance. “I know you weren’t planning to, were you?”
The younger man just glared at him with narrowed eyes. “No, but-”
Taking the confession as a win, John threw an arm over Ruth’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. “Thanks, Buck,” he hollered as he turned them toward the two bikes lying among the grass. “See you two later! Have fun!”
Ruth sent a small wave to Hope, which she returned, watching as her friend disappeared.
“Well it looks like I have you all to myself this afternoon then,” Gale smiled cheekily and Hope couldn’t help the little blush that crawled across her cheeks. “Was there something you wanted to do?”
‘You,’ Hope felt like saying but stopped herself, acutely aware of the condoms still stuffed in her handbag that she’d forgotten to remove from the dance. How did this keep happening to her?
“Well, I thought maybe you could show me some of this Suffolk countryside we are surrounded by. Maybe we could take Meatball for a walk, I’m sure he’d appreciate it, wouldn’t ya boy?”
The big husky looked up at her from his spot on the grass, panting in the warm summer sun. Gale smiled, ruffling the fur on the dog's head.
“There’s a little stream not too far from here, I’m sure you’d appreciate a cool-off, huh buddy?” The dog let out a small woof in agreement. “Well, there’s your answer.”
Gale stood back up, linking his arm through Hope’s and pressing his lips quickly to her forehead, “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, Major.
The pair began their walk down the narrow hedged lane, Gale’s hand quickly finding Hope’s and their fingers intertwined easily as if they had been doing it all their lives. Hope couldn’t help the way her heart lurched at Gale’s touch, the way his skin so softly brushed against her own.
Meatball ran out ahead of them, frolicking in the long grass, bouncing up and down and he howled happily.
“I swear I hear his howling in my sleep sometimes,” Gale muttered under his breath, causing Hope to chuckle.
“He’s just having fun,” she giggled, amused by Gale’s deadpan expression and his wrinkled forehead. “He’s a sweet dog really.”
Gale nodded, “He is a good dog, I’ll give him that.” There was something so natural about walking the dog through the lush, East Anglian countryside that gave Hope the impression that she was in a novel. A woman and the man she loved walking their dog on a sunny, summer afternoon would make a good first line to a book. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine the quaint little cottage they lived in and their three beautiful children playing in the garden.
“Hey Hope, are you alright?” Gale had stopped beside her, his eyebrows creased together, as his hands found their home on her hips.
“Yes, yes quite alright,” Hope blushed, shaking off the daydream, her mind still fuzzy with the images of Gale cradling their son. He’d make a good father.
Gale smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “Good. You’re cute when you smile,” he spoke casually, almost absentmindedly as he began to walk away, but Hope’s blush grew ever deeper at the comment.
Stumbling to keep up, Hope linked her hand back through Gale’s and he squeezed it lightly. “Has Hugh been giving you any more trouble?” She asked, resting her head against his shoulder.
Gale grinned, “Not too much actually, John’s normally the one giving me a hard time. I think Hugh and I are actually on the same page now.”
“I’m pleased,” Hope smiled, watching as Meatball came tearing back towards them, his large pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “At least things won’t be awkward at Thanksgiving now.”
The pathway drove its way across the hillside and down into a valley. Hope wasn’t sure how long they had been walking but Gale stopped beside a small rocky stream, where Meatball was already fully submerged, his long legs splashing through the shallows. Gale fell into the long grass, pulling Hope down beside him.
“How did you find this place? It’s beautiful,” Hope whispered, watching as the transparent waves lapped calmly at the river bank.
“I don’t really know,” Gale admitted sheepishly, “I was just walking one day and got myself a little lost and I stumbled upon it. Spent a good few hours here before trying to find my way back to base.”
There was something about the way that Gale spoke that caused Hope to relax, laying down in the grass and closing her eyes against the bright, summer sunshine. If only they could spend every day like this. Hope felt Gale lay beside her and she snuggled into his side, breathing in the intense smell of his aftershave. She had to admit, he was the best-smelling pilot she’d ever met, but there wasn’t much competition really, Frank always smelt of engine oil.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she whispered, turning her head to look at Gale and meeting his blue eyes, already watching her intently.
“Met too,” he leant forward to press his lips to hers and she smiled into the kiss. This was the most perfect moment and Hope wondered that if they stayed here forever they might be able to avoid the war entirely, living out their days in this little slice of heaven.
Their peaceful dream came to an abrupt end when a very wet, hairy lump landed on Gale’s chest, winding him as he shouted out.
“MEATBALL NO! BAD DOG!” The husky seemed oblivious to his intrusion and carried on his assault, licking Gale’s face aggressively despite Gale’s protests.
Hope giggled, watching the grown man try and fight off the loveable husky. “And you said I was the only love in your life,” she joked when Gale managed to wriggle free from Meatball, who soon found an interesting stick floating down the river and bounded off after it.
Gale didn’t look amused, his blonde locks plastered to his forehead and his white shirt sticking to his frame. Hope blushed at the sight, trying to avoid looking at his muscular frame through the thin, transparent material.
His eyebrows creased as he looked at her, “I’m sorry. Today was meant to be perfect. You’ve been working so hard and I…” Gale was soon silenced by a firm but gentle kiss, “and I…” and another one. He soon got the message and wrapped his arms around Hope’s frame, pulling her down onto his as she giggled.
“Why are you so perfect, Hope Armstrong? If I could, I'd marry you right here and now.” Hope froze above him but Gale continued to kiss her until he noticed she was no longer kissing him back. He gulped, looking up at her worriedly, “Did I say too much? I’m so sorry Hope, I…”
“No, no it’s not that, Gale,” she assured him, smiling softly, “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do, Hope,” Gale shuffled so he was sitting up, Hope still firmly planted in his lap. “I really like you, Hope and when all this is over, if you’ll have me I like to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Hope smiled broadly, “I’d like that very much.”
“Then we’ve made ourselves a promise. To come back to each other,” Gale grinned, kissing Hope once more.
“A promise,” Hope whispered, kissing him once more. Gale lay back down, his head resting against Hope’s chest as her fingers wove their way through his hair.
“Hope,” he mumbled and Hope just hummed in reply. “Well, you sing for me?”
“Sing for you?” Hope laughed, “Like sing you a song?”
“Yes. Your voice was so beautiful the other night. I’d love to hear you sing again.” Hope pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement.
“Did you have a song in mind?” She cocked her head to look at him but Gale just shook his head.
“Anything that Bucky won’t have sung and ruined.” The pair chuckled, remembering vividly John’s singing from the other night.
“Okay. Well, I know for a fact he won't have sung this one to you,” Hope pushed herself up and Gale followed suit, resting his back against a tree. He picked a strand of grass and twirled it back and forth between his fingers as he glanced over at her.
Taking a deep breath, Hope closed her eyes, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs as she began.
“You'll never know just how much I miss you
You'll never know just how much I care
And if I tried, I still couldn't hide my love for you
You ought to know, for haven't I told you so
A million or more times?”
As Hope sang she could feel Gale’s eyes watching her intensely, his blue ores boring into her. Gale couldn’t help the ache in his heart that only seemed to grow as Hope continued, the lyrics flowing softly from her lips.
“You went away and my heart went with you
I speak your name in my every prayer
If there is some other way to prove that I love you”
It was as if the lyrics had been written by Hope for him rather than by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren. Hope sang effortlessly and if Gale could bottle this moment and keep it in his heart forever he would.
All too soon the song came to an end and both their hearts were beating faster than they wanted to admit. Hope glanced at Gale, catching him staring at her, his mouth open slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the right words.
“That was beautiful, Hope. Really… I-…” Gale stumbled over his words, cursing that he couldn’t control his emotions when he was around her. She bought out the best of him but also confused his emotions to no end.
Meatball’s loud whine from beside them had them both in stitches as the dog looked down, confusion evident on his fluffy face.
“God, Meatball, can I not get one peaceful minute with my girl,” Gale laughed, pushing the husky away and standing up, pulling Hope with him. “Guess we’ve got our marching orders, and from a dog no less.”
Hope grinned, “He’s more than just a dog, aren’t ya Meatball? You're a member of the 100th, only the finest group of pilots you’ll ever meet.”
Gale grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “Boy do I like the sound of that.”
The walk back to the base didn’t take long and Hope found that both herself and Gale seemed to be dragging their feet. She didn’t want this day to end, it had been the most perfect day and Hope could feel her heart laying heavy in her chest at the prospect of getting back in their C47 in the morning.
“Gale, wait!” Hope stopped, her grip on Gale’s arm never loosened and causing him to spin around in a rush.
“Hope? Darling, what’s wrong?” Gale pulled her into his arms as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, talk to me. What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hope croaked, her voice thick with tears, as she blubbered into his already damp shirt.
“Then why are you crying?” Poor Gale looked utterly confused, as did Meatball who sat beside the couple, his head cocked to one side.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” Hope wailed, not thinking truly about what she had said.
Gale’s heart sunk as his grip loosened, “ I understand,” he whispered, his head hanging low. He wasn’t sure what he’d done so wrong but he’d clearly overstepped a mark. Was it because he wanted to marry her? But she seemed so happy.
“Gale, what’s wrong?” Hope snuffled, whipping her hand across her face.
Gale shook his head, “It’s okay, Hope. I understand. I am so sorry I overstepped. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you before and…”
“Gale, what’s going on?” Hope stepped forward, clutching onto Gale’s arm. “I don’t understand Gale, I need you.”
Gale cocked his head, looking at her once more, “I don’t understand. I- I thought that you didn’t want to do this.”
Hope couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her throat, “Gale Cleven, you are a very attractive man but sometimes you don’t use that pretty little head of yours. I meant I don’t want to go back to work, I don’t want to get back in that C47. I want to stay here, with you, forever.”
Gale’s face lit up and within two strides he had Hope wrapped back in his arms, “You mean the world to me, Hope Armstrong.”
“You mean the world to me too, Gale Cleven,” Hope smiled, pushing the loose strands of hair from Gale’s face.
Gale’s smile was infectious and Hope couldn’t help but grin all the way back to base, her hand linked to Gale’s and her head pressed firmly against his shoulder.
Once they were back through the gates at Thorpe Abbott, Meatball ran off to join two young boys with Sergeant Lemmons from the ground crew, whom Hope had met briefly during her first visit to the base.
Gale waved at Lemmons before stating how well he’d fixed up ‘Phartzac’ the previous week.
“Are you ever gonna give me a tour of ‘Phartzac’? You talk so highly of her, I feel like I should meet the other woman in your life,” Hope jested, poking Gale in the chest. He looked down at her finger, laughing lightly.
“You are the only woman in my life. Phartzac is just a plane.”
“Just a plane. I thought she was your pride and joy,” Hope gasped in mock shock, raising her hand to cover her mouth.
Gale scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Umm… well I guess, no she is but you are my favourite,” Gale corrected himself, clasping Hope’s hand between his. “You’ll always be my favourite.”
“Good,” Hope leant forward pressing her lips to his but all too soon pulled away. “Then let’s go see her.”
They made their way across the base, passing by the other Fortresses until they came upon ‘Phartzac’, who was tucked secludedly at the end of the line of planes. The base was unusually quiet and most of the ground crew were working on other planes closer to the tower.
“Well, here she is. ‘‘Phartzac’,” Gale pointed proudly towards the aircraft and even Hope had to admit that she was an impressive machine.
“She’s a beauty.”
“She sure is.” There was a sense of pride that seemed to shine off Gale as he spoke about the plane. Telling Hope of all her little quirks and how she needs a ‘firm hand to handle her right’.
“Can we go inside?” Hope asked, grinning hopefully at the Major who instantly crumpled and agreed. He took her hand, leading her towards the plane. He undid the hatch and helped Hope climb into the small cramped space, trying to preserve her modesty and tuck her dress around her legs. She climbed up into the plane’s cockpit, which was slightly more roomy. To her amazement, the inside was very similar to the C47 cockpit in many ways and she soon found herself falling comfortably into one of the seats.
“I see you're keeping my chair warm for me,” Gale smirked, pulling Hope to her feet before sitting down and pulling Hope down into his lap. She laughed, running her fingers over his cheek.
“Anything for you, Major,” she grinned and Gale leant in, kissing her lips delicately, their bodies moulding together as they grew closer. Hope ran her fingers through his tousled, blond hair, enjoying the feeling of his body impossibly close to her own.
Breaking away from the kiss, Hope turned to brush her hair back over her shoulder, her eyes trailing over the control panel until they came across a small picture stuck to one of the panels on Gale’s side of the plane.
“That’s me,” Hope pointed out, her voice shaking with surprise as she turned to Gale who only smiled sweetly at her.
“Of course it’s you. I never fly without ‘My Baby’. You’re always with me.” Gale smiled at her with pure adoration and Hope thought that she could never love this man more than she did right at this moment.
“Gale, I-I…” she paused, taking in his features as if she hadn’t already committed them to memory. “I really like spending time with you, Gale.”
Gale smiled back at her, his piercing blue eyes sparkling as his thumb brushed a stray hair away from his face before he replied, “I really like spending time with you too, Hope.”
Hope’s heart ached as the words ‘I love you’ sat dormant, waiting for her to speak them out loud and admit how she felt about Gale. Her mind screamed that it was too soon and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Something war had taught her though was that life was precious and she feared that she needed to tell him before it was too late.
All too soon five o’clock rolled around and from their spot in the cockpit of the Fort, Hope and Gale could see Frank drawing into the base in the blue Austin.
“I don’t want to leave, Gale. This afternoon has been so perfect,” Hope whined, burying her head into Gale’s chest. She’d spent the remainder of the afternoon sitting on his lap, talking, kissing, cuddling. The last thing Hope wanted was to be dragged back to reality by Frank.
“I know, I don’t want you to leave either,” Gale whispered, pressing his lips to her temple, “But I also know that Frank would have my head if you’re back late.”
Hope nodded, reluctantly peeling herself away from Gale and the pair began their descent from the Fort. Gale hopped down first, helping Hope step down into his arms with ease and he held her in his arms for a few moments more.
“I wish you could stay,” Gale whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down Hope’s spine.
“I wish I could too,” Hope whispered back, “Maybe next time?” She winked at Gale causing him to chuckle, a light brush spreading across his cheeks.
“I’d like that.” The pair began their walk back along the runway towards the Nissen huts where Frank had pulled up the car.
“Well, hello lovebirds. Did you have a good day?” Frank asked, lighting up a cigarette and leaning against the side of the car, a snug smirk on his lips.
“We definitely did,” Hope snuggled into Gale’s side, her hand on his chest, feeling as his heart rate suddenly quickened under her touch. “It was perfect. We went for a lovely walk by the river and…”
“Okay Hope, I don’t need to know if you used the condoms, okay? You know how pilots are with their horizontal PT.” He roared his great booming laugh, clearly still finding the condom situation amusing as Hope’s cheeks turned the colour of her red lipstick.
“Frank, I did…” Hope began, as Gale pulled a toothpick out of the box and began twirling it between his lips, avoiding catching Hope’s eye, but Frank just waved her off.
“I'm only joking, I’m pleased you had a good time,” Frank blew smoke into the air. “You girls deserve a break.” A high-pitched giggle alerted them to Ruth and John’s arrival and Frank waved them over to the car.
They hopped off their bikes near the car, laying them in the grass gently. Approaching their friends, they walked hand in hand, arms swinging between them. Frank waved them over, sending the couple a smug grin.
“How’s your day been, Ruthie?” Frank asked, nodding curtly to John who responded similarly.
Ruth peered up at the Major with dusty pink cheeks. “Good.”
“That’s it? Good?” The Captain grumbled as he took a drag of his cigarette.
Snickering under her breath, Hope wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Ruth who ducked her head, a grin plastered on her lips.
Johnny cut his eyes at Buck, who could see the mischief behind his friend’s eyes, and urged him silently to keep his mouth shut. “Well, If you-”
“Nevermind,” Frank interrupted the Major, raising a hand at him. “I don’t wanna know.”
Before anyone could speak, someone called out to the group. “Majors!”
Their eyes flew over to Hugh, who approached them quickly.
“I thought Buck had your blessing, Charlie?” John asked, a sly look on his face.
The group noticed his blank expression as he came to a stop beside his sister. “The light’s on.”
Buck and John’s smiles fell as their eyes met again. This time, there was no amusement in their gaze. Confusion painting their features, the girls watched them with furrowed brows.
“What does that mean?” Hope asked, looking up at Gale expectantly.
Johnny sighed and squeezed Ruth’s hand gently, peering down at her with pursed lips. “It means there’s a mission.”
“Harding said to bring toiletries, a blanket, and a summer uniform,” Hugh announced, running a tired hand down his face. “I think this one’s big.”
The women’s hearts sank…of course, they knew what the guys did, but until that moment, they hadn’t been reminded of it firsthand.
Hope turned, looking between her brother and Gale who both shared the same worried expression. It had always been horrendous knowing that Hugh might not return after a mission but now she had twice as much to lose. The fact that she could lose both the men she loved so deeply in one foul swoop caused the tears to well in her eyes. She looked up at Gale, unable to find the right words but he knew what she wanted to say and pulled her into his arms.
“Don’t worry, Darling. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gale promised, pressing his lips to her temple. She only nodded, enjoying the sweetness of his embrace and living in the hope that she’d never lose this. “And anyway, Hugh gave me his blessing, remember? I promised you that once this war is over I want to marry you.”
Hope grinned, tears trickling down her cheeks only to be swiftly wiped away by Gale’s thumb.
“You know you’re a real sweet talker sometimes.” The couple grinned at each other, Gale’s signature smirk causing Hope to chuckle. “No matter what happens you always find a way to make me smile.”
“Well that’s my job, Darling,” Gale chuckled, brushing his thumb across her cheek once more. “I always want to see you smile. I hate seeing you sad.” Hope nodded, smoothing his blond locks from his face and she leant up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was very different from the passionate kisses they had shared earlier that day, but somehow it meant so much more.
“I love you Gale Cleven, come back to me okay?” Gale leant down and pressed his lips to Hope’s once more, relishing in the moment before they parted.
Hope turned to see Hugh looking down as he roughed up the grass with his boot.
“And you as well, Hugh,” she moved over to her brother who instantly embraced her. “I love you too and you have to promise to come back to me as well.”
Hugh mumbled something beside her ear before he pulled away, placing an object into her open palm. It was his ring, the ring he’d gotten for his eighteen birthday from their parents. It was the gift that inspired him to get a ring for Hope for her own eighteenth.
“Why are you giving this to me? I don’t want it. You keep it,” she all but shoved the ring back into his hand, pushing her brother away but Hugh remained firm.
“It’s not forever, Hope. I just want you to look after it for me, alright. As soon as I’m back in Thorpe Abbott I'll be demanding it’s safe return to me,” he jested, placing it back in Hope’s hand and she took it reluctantly, placing it on the chain around her neck, next to her own.
“Well you better come back in one piece and get it then,” she said firmly, holding her head high as she looked at her brother. “You’d better come back for it Hugh. You promise?”
Hugh nodded, hugging his younger sister once more, “Yeah Hope, I promise. I always keep my promises.”
The pair broke apart and Ruth returned to Hope’s side just in time for Frank to break up the farewells.
Frank’s regretful voice filled the air as he opened the back door of the car, leaving it open for the girls to climb in. “We’d better hit the road girls if we want to be back to base before it’s too dark.”
Hope glanced at Gale and Hugh once more, who now stood side by side, watching as she climbed into the car. She noticed when Hugh rested his hand on Gale’s shoulder and they shared a look that Hope couldn’t quite make out. Ruth climbed in beside her. They remained silent, watching as the men they loved became small specks in the rear view mirror.
Glancing at the girls' forlorn expressions as they each stared out their window silently, the Captain's gaze softened. "They're gonna be alright, you two. From what l've heard, your guys are the best pilots in the 100th. They'll be back in no time."
Ruth nodded slowly, her curls bobbing along her chin, but Hope remained glued to the window, her face hidden from Ruth by her dark hair. Frank eyed her carefully, watching as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Frank appreciated she had twice as much to lose, and knowing Hugh was never one to stay out of trouble weighed on her heavily. He’d have to keep a close eye on her over the next few days. While Ruth wore her emotions on her sleeve, Hope would suffer in silence in order to stay strong for Ruth.
The car was eerily silent as it made its way along the dark roads, the hooded lights casting a pathetic glow on the road ahead. Somewhere along the journey Ruth had fallen asleep against Hope’s shoulder and she smiled down at her friend, pleased that at least one of them could get some rest.
Once they arrived back to base the three split ways, Frank went to return the Austin before the Major returned the following morning. The girls went straight to their Nissan huts, undressing quickly and slipping into their nightdresses. Ruth sat on her bed, removing the letters from the box on her nightstand and reading over John’s words quietly while Hope busied herself around the room, folding clothes, tidying the cupboard beside her bed and arranging the desk.
Ruth slipped beneath her bed covers with a sigh, her mind too preoccupied to sleep, but unable to settle as Hope continued to rustle and shuffle around the room.
“Hope, will you please settle down and go to bed. We’re back to work tomorrow and we should at least get some sleep.”
Hope looked a little forlorn, “Sorry Ruth,” she slumped down on her bed, continuing to rummage through her musette bag. The blonde groaned, rolling onto her side to shield her eyes from the lantern by Hope’s bed. Eventually, all movements ceased until Ruth felt her bed dip with a creak as Hope sat down beside her.
Ruth had never really seen Hope cry. She’d shed a few tears but never broken down and cried, not until now…
Her shoulders shook as the silent sobs escaped her lips, “I-I can’t lose them, Ruth.”
“Hey,” Ruth whispered, sitting up in an instant and pulling Hope into her side, “They both made a big promise they would come back to you, Hope, and I don’t think that either of them would break it. They’re going to be fine…they all will.”
Ruth wasn’t sure if she was saying that part to comfort Hope or herself. The blonde had been sick to her stomach the whole night, unable to get the worst case scenarios out of her mind. Her only comfort was re-reading John’s letters.
She helped Hope crawl under the covers like she had so many times before, but this time Ruth resorted to being the big spoon instead of her usual place as little spoon. The bed wasn’t really wide enough for two people but they made it work, cuddling close to one another.
“He told me I mean the world to him,” Hope whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she mumbled into the pillow. The simple thought of Gale’s words sent Hope’s heart racing in her chest, and Ruth heard every single muffled word.
“He said what?” Ruth burst with excitement, “Did you say it back?”
“Of course, I did,” Hope chuckled softly at her friend's enthusiasm. “He also said that when this war is over that he wants to marry me.”
Ruth’s heart was fit to burst. She loved Gale and Hope together nearly as much as she loved her and John being together. Everything was coming together perfectly for them and she could only pray that things continue that way.
Now the older nurse understood why Hope’s worry ran deeper than she previously thought. Yes, Ruth felt very deeply for Johnny, but they hadn’t made any long-term promises to each other. Gale and Hope had. The couple had plans for the future…plans that would lead to children, a loving home, and a family.
Hope’s vision of three children playing in a garden reappeared in her mind, each one with Gale’s sandy blonde hair. Maybe they had her eyes and his lips? Her nose? She could see him coming home from work after a long day, giving her a loving kiss before sitting in a recliner with their youngest on his lap, rocking them to sleep softly. They’d have a dog too, running around and playing with the children. Maybe they-
“Hope?” Ruth mumbled into her friend's hair, breaking Hope from her thoughts. She earned a muffled hum and continued, “When you get married, can I be your bridesmaid?”
Hope turned over to face her friend slowly so she didn’t knock her out of bed, “Of course you can. Although you might have to fight Hugh for the job.”
Ruth grinned, narrowing her eyes playfully, “I bet I could take him on. One glare from me and I think he’d be crying.”
Hope chuckled in amusement, “I have to admit. When you’re mad, you are something to behold, Ruth Morgan. It doesn’t happen much, but I sure wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of you when it does. I know the last time Hugh got on the wrong side of you he wasn’t best pleased,” Hope giggled, recalling her brother's shocked face at Ruth’s outburst. I hope John is always on his best behaviour I don’t think he realizes what a firecracker he’s got.”
“Yeah,” Ruth chuckled, already imagining Johnny’s reaction to her spitting off at someone. “Hopefully he won’t be the one it’s directed towards.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s gonna be much of a problem. I saw the way he was looking at you, Rue. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, even if either of you don’t realize it.”
Closing her eyes, Ruth remembered his loving gaze in his nissen hut earlier. “Maybe,” she whispered, sinking into her pillow. “I still can’t believe all of this is because we evacuated some patients at their airfield on a random day, Hope.”
“I know,” Hope smiled softly. “Look at us.”
The girls chattered continued late into the night and come morning when Frank knocked on their door, they had finally fallen into a dreamless sleep, still tightly wrapped in each other's arms.
Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @kmc1989 @blueberry-ovaries
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okokok wally x reader
except wally doesnt know that hes falling in love with the reader
he just thinks they are Such Good Friends
so he has to have the reader explain to him that no. this isn't just best friendship. youre in love wallace.
also can the reader be silly
CLUELESS! WALLY DARLING X SILLY! GN! READER — PAGE 2
“I think… I love you more than a friend, neighbor.”
Warnings : None
Platonic or Romantic? : Romantic.
{———————————————————————————}
Wally stared at the shuffling bush.
You came out of it! In… a karategi? those uniforms for karate? you were holding your hands up as if you were about to hit someone.
Although he’d stifle in laughter like the first few weeks he’d met you or seen you like this, he didn’t. Something else was getting in the way.
His heart jumped, he felt so weird— it was this feeling again! Wally’s heart clenched and he felt swarms of butterflies flying in his stomach. It was strange.
Weird.
His face would flush up.
And… he was shaking?
You looked around the forest until you saw the lake and Wally.
“Wally?”
You put down your hands and walked up to him.
You giggle, patting his shoulder.
“What are you drawing there?”
Wally immediately tried to cover your eyes from the painting. He didn’t know why he did it— but he did? there was a feeling of shame inside of him, like you might not like it.
But he was too late. You already held Wally steady in his seat with both your hands on his shoulders.
“You drew this?!”
You exclaimed, your eyes glistening with amazement.
The butterflies in his stomach fluttered even more, and you hugged him from behind.
“I love it, I love it, I love it!!!!”
You giggled and slightly jumped, careful not to let the seat Wally was sitting in move. It might hit the easel if Wally or you bump into it, and you don’t wanna ruin his painting so you tried not to be too crazy on the jumping.
But it was so amazing!
However, you noticed how quiet Wally got and how his face was in a orange-red tint.
“Wally?— are you… sick?”
You asked him.
Wally shook his head and let out a few deep breaths.
“N-no, neighbor! you just make me feel… so weird when you’re around.”
You looked at him in worry and let go of the hug, backing away.
“Oh- uh… sorry.”
You mumbled. Wally panicked and stood up, walking to you.
“No! No- no not that way, friend! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
Wally smiled at you nervously.
“Then… what is it?”
You ask. Wally was very hesitant to respond, and you began getting even more curious.
“It’s just… I feel so weird around you. You’ve been on my mind for quite a long time, and it feels like Frank’s butterflies are in my stomach… I didn’t eat them, of course.”
Wally lied a bit at the last part. He has eaten one of Frank’s butterflies on accident. He was curious how it tasted and he stared at it for too long and— wait. Right.
“I… I don’t know. My face feels so warm, and my heart keeps doing these tricks and flips.”
Oh.
Oh, now you get it.
“Oh, Wally…”
Your voice softened as you smiled at him.
“You really feel that way?…”
Wally nods.
“Yes, friend— of course I do!”
You hug him and laugh.
“I love you too, silly! That means you’re in love with me!”
Wally’s face scrunched up in confusion and embarassment.
“L-love?! As in, love in relationship or?…”
“Yes, that love, Wally! those butterflies, thinking of someone all the time, all the things you said are a confession, dummy!”
You chuckled.
Oh, how bright you were. He loved looking at you.
You were so adorable.
“Oh. I… I see, neighbor!”
Wally chuckled and smiled.
“Then… I love you.”
“I love you lots, and lots [Y/N]!”
That soft spoken, monotone voice telling you that he loved you was absolutely adorable.
And you’d cherish him the same way he cherishes you.
{——————————————————}
A/N : Oh christ I hope I got this one right since Im not sure how to describe silly— anyways!! I hope you all enjoyed this one. Thank you for reading till’ the end! <33
——-> PART 1
#welcome home#welcome home arg#welcome home wally#wally darling welcome home#welcome home puppet show#wally darling#wally darling x reader
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