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#poor rafs
pupipayaso · 3 months
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Raphael a punto de ser papeado por Gabe.
Los personajes no son míos 🤓☝️ les pertenece a Camodiel y a Brightgoat.
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painted-bees · 3 months
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i was just thinking that Raf is very normal for someone who was born rich and raised as a celebrity lol
he'd be happy to hear this lmfao he put a lot of work into it.
He still has certain misconceptions about what counts as "humble" when talking about material wealth and quality of living [he describes his current situation as "humble"--which...it isn't lmao. It's just not outwardly extravagant]. It took him as long as it did to realize that Margie was unhoused [despite seeing her every week for months] because he had an idea in his mind about how Homeless People looked and behaved--and Margie didn't fit into it at all.
In terms of his behaviour, though, he was definitely much harder to relate to when he first showed up in Van right after graduating Juilliard. His Uncle, therapist, and Hi-Note helped ground him--and he wanted to assimilate and fit into middle-class north american culture. But even while he was dating Lacey, he was still kinda...on a different plane of existence, so to speak lmao. I think things really started clicking into place for him after that break-up. He really leaned into being 'no one, just a guy' after that.
Raf's still got some rich boi behaviours/assumptions that will occassionallu show up casually, in passing, that reminds everyone he's a prince in pauper's clothing--all while he himself remains completely oblivious to the fact that he raised any flags at all lmao
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dacchamp · 10 months
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Every time I go to Raf, I preach the mitchtonio word and the monaco gang shit with my caps lock on and Raf is there like "🧍... GO ON"
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also i spoiled myself on accident but it doesn't matter because I already wasn't too invest in the show but now I am. Ayo fuck Seth!!!
Kirin baby...steak is on the house. Whatever you want. I know the bar is in hell but the fact Kirin said "I believe you." and made sure that Josh knew that his feelings are valid is fucking king behavior!!! We love a himbo with a heart of god and who knows how to stand up for himself and others
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goldenkirstein · 1 year
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Sansa stark my beloved
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in1-nutshell · 6 months
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How would the tfp autobots and decepticons react to the toy furby
Ooohhh! I remember furby's, granted they were a bit creepy in my opinion. These are a bit shorter than what I usually write, I was trying to get most of the characters in. Let me know if these needed more writing in them.
Hope you enjoy everyone's reactions to the furby's
Autobots and Decepticons reaction to seeing a furby
SFW, mentions of blasters
TFP
How did this all happen? One word to simplify everything: Miko. She thought it would be funny to start leaving these little menaces around the base and to get the bots reaction to it. How did she acquire these furbies, don’t ask any questions. Jack tried to stop her, but she successfully bribed him by promising to send him the video of Arcee’s reaction. Raf promised to edit the videos to be at their finest. Operation: Furby reaction is a go.
Autobots
Optimus Prime
He notices the first furby as it sits innocently near one of the control panels. At first, he thinks that one of those ‘birds’ had entered the base and tried to move the thing.
“Hello little one. How did you get in here?”--Optimus
“SSSQQQQUAAAAKKKK!”--Furby
“I see… Ratchet did you let the creature inside the base?”--Optimus
“Did I do what now?”--Ratchet
Then it suddenly started moving and squawking its native tongue that may or may not have startled the Prime a bit.
He doesn’t mind the furby too much… but does sense something about it.
Ratchet
He notices when he sees Prime slightly startled by something.
He goes to investigate and nearly squashes the Furby thinking it was a scraplet.
“Ratchet! Do not harm the creature!”--Optimus
“Optimus with all due respect, that thing is definitely some sort of scraplet! It might be a different type of mutation but look at it!”--Ratchet
“Ratchet—”--Optimus
“It even looks evil Optimus! I’m getting my wrenches.”--Ratchet
“Ratchet!”—Optimus
He does not care about Optimus’s code on not killing living being. That thing looked at him weird and he is going to end it before it eventually causes trouble.
Bumblebee
Nearly has a whiplash when he sees the little thing. He also thinks it’s a scraplet at first, but slightly calms down recognizing it as one of those human toys he saw on commercial with Raf.
Everything is fine… until it started screeching and moving by itself.
“SSSSSSSCCCCCRRRREEEEAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby
“BBBBBBBEEEEEEEPPPPPPP! (AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!)—Bumblebee
Does not like furby’s at all. Claims that they were trying to speak to him.
Arcee
Her encounter with the Furby is short.
Mainly because she saw something move out of the corner of her optic and blasted the poor thing to bits.
“Huh? What on Cybertron—”--Arcee
“SCCCCRREEECCH—”—Furby remains
Blaster firing intensifies.
She doesn’t know what that thing was, but it started it.
Bulkhead
He is running to see where Bumblebee is after hearing him screaming. He has his wrecking ball at the ready and ready to comm in back up if necessary.
“BBBBBBBEEEEEEPPPPPP! (AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!)--Bumblebee
“What is it!?”--Bulkhead
“BBBEEEPP BEP BEEEEPPP (THAT THING RIGHT THERE!)--Bumblebee
“SCCRRREEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!!!”—Bulkhead
Absolutely loathe those things. It reminds him too much of the scraplet incident that happened. He would be swinging his wrecking ball if it hadn’t gotten stuck in the wall.
Wheeljack
He is running as soon as he hears Bulkhead and Bumblebee screaming. His katanas are out as is ready for some slicing and dicing.
“BEEEEEPP BEEEEPPPP! (PRIMUS ITS MOVING CLOSER!)--Bumblebee
“SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!”--Bulkhead
“Where’s the danger!?”--Wheeljack
“BEEPPP! (ITS MOVING!)--Bumblebee
“SCRREEEECCCHH—”--Furby
“There, its sliced in half. Huh. You two where afraid of this little cute—”--Wheeljack
“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHH!”--- The two remains of the Furby
Blaster firing and wrecking ball smashing intensifies.
Isn’t a huge fan of the little things. It’s a bit cute in a creepy way. Does remind him of scraplets if they had gotten some mold and gained some sort of upper-level sentience.
Smokescreen
Like Arcee, his encounter with the Furby is short.
He accidentally stepped on one effectively crushing it.
“SCCRRE—Crunch!”—Furby
“Hmm? Hmm.” –Smokescreen
He is completely oblivious to the tomfoolery that is happening all over the base. He is too busy with looking at the latest relic they managed to find.
Ultra Magnus
He finds a Furby near his work area. He tries to speak to the Furby as he would to anyone else.
“Excuse me but you are in classified—”—Ultra Magnus
“SSSSCCCRRREEEEEAAAACCHHHH!”--Furby
“That was unnecessary and—”—Ultra Magnus
“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby
“Listen to—”—Ultra Magnus
“Ultra Magnus move!”--Ratchet
Furby is hit with 10 wretches in one go.
He doesn’t mind furby’s like Optimus. Mainly because he was trying to communicate with it and never got to finish his sentences with it.
Decpticons
No one knows how it was done, but the impossible was made possible. After Miko finished getting all the Bots’ reaction to the furbies she decided to do something else. Somehow, she managed to scatter the remaining furbies on board the Nemesis. How did she do this. Not even Miko quite knows how she did it.
Megatron
He finds the Furby on his throne. He doesn’t know what this thing is, but it is on his throne, and no one sits on his throne except him.
“You! How dare you sit upon my throne!”--Megatron
“SSSSCCCRRREEEAAACCCH!”—Furby
Blaster firing intensifies.
The furby would be gone whether he is on Dark Energon or not. Will not admit it but the furby noise sent a little shiver down his struts. Good thing no one saw that.
Starscream
He finds the furby in his habsuite. He is curious in how this weird looking organic thing managed to find his room. He takes the furby to the interrogation room.
“Who are you? Speak worthless organic!”--Starscream
“SSSCCCRRREEEEAAACCCCHHH!”--Furby
“How dare you! I am Starscream, Second in Command of the Decepticon Army! You will—”--Starscream
“SSSSSCCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby
“Two can play it that game!”--Starscream
“SSSSCCCCCRRRREEEAAAACCCHHH!”--Starscream
“SSSSCCCCRRRREEAAAACCCHH!”—Furby
He ends up staying in the room with the furby for a while. Takes the furby to his room and plays on doing a hostage exchange if it is needed.
Soundwave
Finds the furby on his desk. Lazerbeak deploys and flies around the small thing. Steps a bit closer to getting a good look at it.
“…”--Soundwave
“SSSSSCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”—Furby
He immediately groundbridges the furby outside the Nemesis to have it fall and burn on reentry. He does however keep the screeching noise recorded and will use it if necessary… or if he is bored.
Knockout and Breakdown
The pair enters the medbay and finds the furby on the medslab.
Breakdown looks at it and thinks it’s kind of cute. Knockout on the other hand.
“OH, PRIMUS KILL IT!”--Knockout
“Knockout?!”--Breakdown
“THAT IS UNICRON’S SPAWN! KILL IT! BURN IT!”--Knockout
Breakdown smashes the furby to oblivion. Did he regret it? No, it was causing Knockout stress, and he was happy to get rid of it for him. Knockout knows the furby’s horrors, he knows…
Dreadwing
His time with the furby is short. He accidentally stepped on it as he was trying to get some creates to his habsuite.
“SSSCCRR—Crush!”--Furby
“What in the All Spark? Hmm…”--Dreadwing
He does wonder what the weird noise was, but he has other things to worry about, so he quickly forgets about the encounter.
Shockwave
He doesn’t know they exist. There were no furbies in the lab or in his habsuite. The two places he really goes to. He does hear from the others about the furbies though.
“They sound illogical.”--Shockwave
“You’re illogical!”—Starscream
He doesn’t care about the furbies, he has science experiments and war crimes to commit.
Predaking
He finds one near his kennel and does not like it. Sure, the Nemesis isn’t the greatest place, but that spot is his!
“You! Vermin! Who are you!”--Predaking
“SSSCCCRRREEE—”—Furby
Fire breathing intensifies.
Does not like the noises and is quick to end the furby.
Arachnid
She finds one randomly walking in the halls screaming. She just stabs it and puts it on her trophy case. She doesn’t have time for anything else. She has Arcee and Megatron to kill.
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yumeka-sxf · 7 months
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Spy x Family volume 12 omake chapter translation and new pages
Volume 12 of the SxF manga was just released and it included a hilarious extra chapter about Anya and Becky's zoo visit! Here are my translations (I only have MS Paint so sorry for the poor editing!)
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(shoutout to RAF on Discord for providing the raw images!)
This was such a great extra chapter, not just because Anya and Becky are hilarious as ever, but as usual, even in a humorous situation, Endo manages to slip in a serious theme without disrupting the comedy. This actually reminds me of a story my mom told me where, back when she was a kid in the 50s/60s, she went to a similar zoo exhibit that featured "the most dangerous animal of all," but inside was just a mirror.
I hope Endo had fun drawing lots of different animals! 😁
In addition to the omake chapter, the volume also features a few new illustrations.
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Sylvia is on the cover and, keeping in line with Endo's tradition of showcasing the characters' inner/true selves on the inside cover, that's also what we have for her here!
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I'm planning to pick up my own copy of the volume this weekend 😀
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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months
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imagine raf loosing a tooth on base
Oh boy. This is how I see that going down.
Ratchet: He would lose his scrap. He would immediately start frantically trying to call June and try to put the tooth back in because humans aren't supposed to loSE THE MOUTH BONES THOSE CAN'T BE REPLACED-!
Bulkhead: He would similarly panic and promptly attempt to preserve the tooth on Ratchet's orders. Human appendages can be put back on if the part in question is taken care of. The poor mech would struggle to not fumble something in his haste.
Arcee: She would try her best to help Ratchet with her smaller digits. She wouldn't panic too terribly, but she would indeed be VERY concerned. The mouth bones breaking out is a sign of something likely going very wrong in the body.
Bumblebee: He would panic but try really hard to hide it and play moral support, probably coming up with less than supportive comments along the lines of:
"If the worst comes to worst, we can make you metal mouth bones."
"If the mouth bones are important in your society, you can always wear a mask like me! We can be twins!"
"Don't worry! I am sure nothing is wrong probably! I've never seen a bone come out of someone on its own like that, but Ratchet's the best doctor we have! He can... probably fix it!"
Smokescreen: He would try to be helpful but ultimately be resigned to kid sitting duty while the rest of the team hurry to fix things. He would give similarly bad reassurance to Miko and Jack while the duo try in vain to explain.
Ultra Magnus: He would immediately begin writing a casualty report and an apology letter for Rafael's family. Losing bones in an organic creature probably means the creature in question is going to die. He would jump the gun and get the funeral rites prepared beforehand.
Optimus: He would play damage control and try to keep everyone calm to little avail. He might also begin to figure out that things are fine, but likely would end up a tad overwhelmed with Ratchet losing it.
When June eventually turns up to explain, the team are going to have to stand around like fools. Losing the mouth bones does not indicate death in young humans. It is merely a strange molt that the squishes go through as their frames change into their adult forms.
Ratchet will never stop being haunted.
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astridthevalkyrie · 1 month
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a weak heart | rafayel x reader
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“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!” How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.
cw: reader has she/her pronouns, fluff, light angst, rafayel being bratty but also down incredibly bad
word count: 1.4k
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There’s a dip in the bed that alerts Rafayel to her presence. He’d already known she was inside, even though her footsteps were hushed. He’d heard her walk in and feed Reddie, and he almost gave up the vow he made to himself not to engage with her just so he could snark about how she was more invested in seeing the fish than in seeing him.
(Of course, she very well may have gone to the studio to look for him and decided to feed Reddie while she was already in there, but. He doesn’t want to be reasonable right now. He wants to be upset with her. And she gives him so little to get upset with because she is and always has been some kind of angel descended from the heavens with an embarrassingly weak heart, so he needs to take whatever chances he can get.)
A soft touch to the back of his neck is followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. “Rafayel?”
He doesn’t answer.
“I know you’re awake, Raf.” Well, his eyes are open so. Great observation, idiot. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?”
The window he’s staring through is so fascinating all of a sudden, all bright and stale with an afternoon light he’s painted a billion times. Literally a billion. That’s how old he is. One would think he’d learned to be patient in that time, but one would also think that after waiting for a woman for centuries, she could cut him some slack and not make him wait any longer.
(Not that she knows that but. Still.)
“It was really last minute.” She kisses his cheek again, hovering over him and he wants so badly to gaze up at her, because that will be something he’s never painted before—he’d title it Requiem For A Bland Thursday and Thomas would sell it for a couple hundred million and he’d tell her that and she would only ask him to buy her a rainbow popsicle because there isn’t a greedy bone in her body.
“I was going to text, Raf, I promise I was, but I’d pulled a night shift already and my phone was dead and Xavier and I both left our chargers at home, and we didn’t have a chance to stop and charge anyways.”
Always an excuse. Always a valid excuse that he can find no fault with. But it isn’t fair. The people she works with—Tara, Xavier, Captain Jenna who she’s definitely a little in love with—get her attention and her time every hour of every day. If there’s a mission to do, she’ll drop everything and do it. And Rafayel gets the crumbs, the vacation days and the after hours, whenever she remembers him enough to spare her time.
What’s worse than that is the fear. He doesn’t let it show through text, always opting to send whatever he thinks will make her smile, but everytime hours pass without a response from her, fear seizes his poor heart. All the twisted and cruel things that could possibly happen to her start playing on repeat in his head.
“Rafayel,” she pleads, tilting her forehead against his temple. “Please, look at me?”
His chest burns hot.
When he finally looks up, he finds he’s absolutely correct in his hunch. She presents like a masterpiece, hair mussed from whatever fights Xavier clearly couldn’t protect her from. Her eyes shine tiredly, lighting up when they gaze into his. And Rafayel’s heart releases a painful thump, thump, thump because if he could spend eternity with her looking at him the way she is now, he’d easily live the rest of his immortal life the happiest person in the universe.
She leans down and pecks his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
(It’s what she always does.)
“It’s what you always do,” he says, not harsh but definitely blasé enough to make her wince. “Why should this time be any different?”
A sigh escapes her, and he starts to feel that old guilt again. To hold her up to a standard because he fell in love with two other versions of her, and to give her grief for being late as though she wasn’t doing an incredibly important job keeping people safe—it’s not exactly fair. To either of them, but specifically to her.
And yet, it’s not like he spends his time with her imagining a princess running through the sands calling his name. This version of her makes his heart pound all the same, whether she’s absolutely beating his ass at the card game in the cafe, or resting her head on his shoulder from behind while he paints, or when she’s in his bed just like this.
The biggest similarity is that damn sick bleeding heart.
“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?” She tilts his chin up with her index finger, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Rafayel could never imagine being spoiled like this even if he was to be sitting on the throne in Lemuria right now, with jewels and gold surrounding him and beautiful maidens offering their hands. 
Somehow, this is more. Somehow, this is better.
“There’s nothing you can do,” he answers flatly, “and there’s nothing I can do. So let me be mad at you in peace.”
Her response is to brush the bangs from his forehead and drop a kiss to his forehead as well. “You make me feel like I’m in high school all over again,” she teases quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips now. “My teenage dream.”
He groans. “Don’t—“
“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!”
How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. 
Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.
“Is this my punishment?” His nose wrinkles. “To hear you sing terrible renditions of already overplayed songs?”
Her giggle is the real music to his ears. “You’re an artist, you should know talent when you hear it.”
“I do,” he insists, realizing too late that he’s giving in. The lightness in his stomach is a bit frightening too. This is the same woman who carved out his heart. This is the same woman who needed to do nothing but flutter her lashes at him to make him give in to her any request. If, tomorrow, she were to ask him to rip his own scales from his body and place the bloody pieces in her palm, he’d do so without question.
Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he leans into it with a soft sigh almost on instinct. Such power she possesses, over the God of the Sea, and she’s the only person who would never even fathom abusing it. 
“You’re cold,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “Why do you always keep your house so cold?”
(So that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can—)
“It’s better for blood circulation.”
Her thumb gently brushes over his lower lip, like she’s mapping out her quest to treasure. “That’s like, objectively not true, Raf. My friend’s a doctor, he told me that cold is better for short-term pain and warmth is better for—“
“If you’re cold,” he interrupts, “get under the sheets.”
A brilliant, blinding smile lights up her face as she does just that, slipping under next to him and laying down at a slightly elevated level so she can tuck his head into her chest. Warmth runs through him like a flood, even the leather of her uniform is comforting because it’s smooth and light and smells just like her. Her lips press to the top of his head.
“I really am sorry,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair, “I’ll do my best to text you and let you know next time, okay?”
And if she doesn’t, Rafayel thinks, curling into her more, they will still end up like this, quiet words and mutual teasing, memories of the past that he will forever be cursed by and she will never be burdened with, a heart that dances to the tune of her commands, wrapped up in each other, and absolutely nothing will change.
Because who really has a weak heart?
(It’s not her.)
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zaynesaurora · 6 days
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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to bedroom talk/noises — (MDNI)
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a/n: idk i had some loose thoughts and tried to turn them into something, might be nothing ! bonus boys both got promoted for this one though because im insane about caleb in particular rn
zayne ! gets off on ambient noises. the rain battering the window panes, the crackling of a wood fire, the thump of the headboard against the wall- he’s romantic like that. he's pretty quiet broadly speaking when it comes to sex and so he enjoys when the atmosphere helps him to express his feelings, his own noises typically being the air escaping his nose in heavy puffs.
he has one sound he enjoys above all those though, always prefacing it with a gentle "are you ready, my love?"- before slipping himself into your awaiting walls, revelling in the gasp that follows in response.
accompanying it will always be the sounds of kissing. zayne pulling you under the sheets, wet lips planting themselves where ever he can reach- the dip of your collar bone being top of the list as he takes you chest to chest in his own perfected version of white noise. an instrumental that makes your skin burn until he stills above you, professing his love with a groan.
xavier ! forgets who he is, who you are, where he is, what hes doing- mind blank but his mouth works overtime to chant a chorus of "yes, Yes YES" with every drop of your hips, descending on him with precision.
if he could see himself from your perspective, he'd probably be unbelievably embarrassed- unaware of the drool thats collecting in the creases at the corners of his lips with every breathy mumble, voice horse from the sheer amount of satisfaction rushing through his veins and off his tongue. the same dewy look would be collecting in his eyes. pretty blues glassing over in a way that makes him look unresposive. he'd fail to let you know he was going to come. too caught up in his own choir to give it even a fleeting thought.
breathing would be laboured after the matter, lungs struggling to catch up with themselves as he comes back to his senses. he'd be slung right off of cloud nine when you start giggling beside him- suddenly aware that he has no idea what he was saying, or the noises he was allowing to be known. you had no idea a human being could change colour so fast.
rafayel ! has fun in sex. teasing nature seeping into all aspects of your life with him regardless of certain activities so it's completely expected that your shared quaters are filled with laughter and bickering even with him burried inside you- elegant hands swatting at your arse randomly to hear you yelp in surprise for him ( he's also doing it bc it makes you tighten around him but shh)
rafs tone would alter to have a more commanding edge as the pleasure really sets in, "dont you dare stop" being a phrase often thrown around and his nails sinking further into your skin- each time it's laced with a snarl that almost makes him seem intimdating if he wasn't belly laughing only a few minutes ago.
unfortunately, or fortunately in his case, he grows impossibly hard at the thought of someone hearing you guys- his pride and ego stroked thinking of an accidental visitor learning how healthy his sex life is, poor thomas has to do damage control fairly often to keep his reputation in good light.
caleb ! has a filthy, rotten mouth when he's caught in such an act. not really in a humiliation sense but more in that he swears like a sailor- each sentence broken or seperated by various profanities as he bigs his game up to egg you one. he won't admit it ever but his wordy displays are defenitely not rhetorical. he needs, and wants, you to let him know that he's doing you well.
"fuck baby, you lik- fuck, you like that dont you?", he'd hum into your ear, sweaty foreheads pressing together in an attempt to be as close to you as humanly possible- each question laced with a sweet pet name.
this boy has a unhealthy addiction to the sound of skin on skin, heavy plat plat plats ricochetting of the walls in a steady hyponitc rhythm that knocks all remaning sanity out of his head and into his dick. he’d drive into you for hours after he’s slipped into exhaustin just to hear the way it becomes messier, stickier- wetter as he annouces his orgasm to you.
jeremiah ! desperately tries to keep himself as quite as possible, shyness seeping into his bones when a stray moans slips from behind his lips- a soft note from the back of his throat that makes his ears flush a painful, deep red and his lip catch between his teeth until the skin breaks and theres a metalic tinge to his delicate kisses.
would have the tendancy to be higher pitched when he's in the bedroom, somewhat squeaky in his efforts to keep a lid on his excitement and would just about explode at the sound of your voice carrying him toward a sweet release- air coming out in hurried pants as his shoulders start to shake, stomach convulsing in waves with each desperate attemp to fill his chest and focus his mind.
"atta boy miah", he ascendes. literally. minimal contact with the mattress when his being raises in an attempt to escape you and get closer at the same time.
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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 month
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hey girly! Idk if your requests are open but we neeeeeed something for bucky from mota. maybe something like enemies to lovers with a war nurse? thxxxx
A Second Chance
Thank you so much for your request anon. I’m so sorry it took so long. I feel that I may not have the skill set to write John Egan as well as other writers but I’m hoping that I can do him justice. Also two posts this weekend because why not.
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John Egan was insufferable. Y/n had decided that from the moment she’d first met him, with his cocky smile, his stupid moustache, his bright eyes and… no he was just insufferable. She’d never met a man so full of himself that he gave his best friend the same nickname, and yet Gale Cleven seemed like the sweetest man on earth.
“You’re staring again,” Rosie chuckled, looking up from his battered book ‘Of Mice and Men’ with a cheeky smile.
“Yes with utter disgust, I mean look at him,” Y/n pointed, watching as Rosie glanced over at the Major who was currently leaning against the bar, flirting with the poor barmaid who seemed besotted with him. “He’d flirt with anything that moved.” 
“Including you apparently,” Rosie chuckled, “Just admit that you aren’t a tiny bit jealous. I just want to hear you admit it.”
Y/n glared daggers at the pilot who was using his book to shield his smiling face. She lurched forward trying to smack him but he shoved the book at her.
“No, no, not the moustache again,” he shielded his hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he glared at her. She may have accidentally pulled his moustache once when they were arguing about the same Major and Rosie’s moustache had taken the hit.
“You know that was an accident.”
“Yes, but it’s never grown the same since,” he protested, stroking his facial hair thoughtfully. “You’re always moaning about Major Egan's moustache, I thought mine was a goner.”
Y/n sighed dramatically, slouching in her chair. She wondered if she should tell Rosie the real reason why she held such a grudge towards John Egan. That, however, would involve her confessing that she was madly in love with John.
Rosie’s eyes remained trained on his book and Y/n fought the urge to interrupt him again. Instead, she remained silent, thinking back to that night in June when the air in London had been close and hot, sticking to the sweat on her skin, the pale evening light casting shadows over the hotel room, the white sheets soft and comfortable, his embrace loving, his words kind and… all completely false.
Y/n hadn’t believed in love at first sight but seeing John Egan in his uniform, smirking at her across the crowded pub, something inside her had changed. He’d been effortlessly charming and she was eating out of his palm before the night was through.
John Egan had promised to visit her, promised he’d write, but several months passed and no letters came Y/n gave up, putting John behind her. That was until she had to report to Thorpe Abbott RAF base and ran into a particular Major.
John, however, seemed oblivious to their previous encounter, barely sending her a smile as he strolled passed with several other pilots by his side. From that day forward Y/n held a grudge against John Egan.
“Here we go…” Rosie mumbled under his breath, but before Y/n could ask what he meant a low hum came from behind her.
“Evening Rosie, Y/n,” John nodded to both of them, Gale Cleven by his side doing the same.
“Majors,” Rosie greeted them, placing his book down on the table.
“Major Cleven,” Y/n greeted Gale, her eyes avoiding the other Major. Gale glanced quizzically between the pair, before looking to Rosie for answers, but he only shrugged.
“Have I done something to offend you, Darling?” John smirked at her, leaning across the table, his moustache twitching at the corners. He had the same cocky air about him that he always wore but the added nickname just added fuel to the fire that was already burning.
Y/n snorted, “Do not think your presence has such an effect on me, Major. I’m afraid not every woman falls at your feet.”
Gale let a low whistle slip from his lips, but John just grinned, “Alright, I see someone’s a little jealous, didn’t realise I had an admirer.”
Y/n stood swiftly from her chair, rounding the table and jabbing her finger into John’s chest, “I am not jealous and why would I be? Why would I lower my standards to such an arrogant, self-centered man.” She removed her finger from his chest, turning on her heels and exiting the pub as fast as her legs would allow her.
Gale looked between Rosie and John, “Will someone please explain what just happened?”
Rosie shrugged, picking up his book and fumbling through the pages until he found his spot. John chuckled, “I think I may have offended her in some way, though I know not how.”
“You really think you offended her, huh?” Gale replied sarcastically, avoiding his friend's light shove with an amused laugh.
John truly did wonder what he’d done so wrong to offend her. He’d only known her a few months when she turned up on base dressed in her dress blues declaring she was newly assigned to Thorpe Abbott infirmary. He greeted her with a smile and she glared at him in response. From that day forward it had been an all-out war between the two of them.
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Y/n had just finished tidying up the examination room when there was a light tap at the door, she called out ‘enter’, her back still turned to whoever it was.
“This is quite a nice place you’ve got here, Darling,” John declared, leaning against the doorframe, smiling devilishly.
Y/n sighed, instantly on the defensive, “What do you want, Major,” she emphasised his rank disdainfully, rolling her eyes as she continued to pack up the crate of dressings.
John hummed behind her, moving around the room until he was in front of her once more, “So…” he paused, craning his neck to try and catch her eye. “How are you finding life on base?”
That’s it, John, a nice simple question. She can’t get too offended by that, right?
Y/n all but tutted, shaking her head, “Life would be just fine, except a certain Major keeps ruining my day.” She shoved passed him, carrying the crate out of the room and down the corridor, her heels clicking against the tiled floor followed by a larger heavier footfall.
“Hey Darling, wait up. I hadn’t finished talking to you,” John protested, moving swiftly in front of her and stopping her movements.
“What?” She snapped this time, her patience wearing thin and the long list of jobs she had still playing on her mind.
John sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, “I just want to know what I did. I’ve barely said two words to you since you got here and somehow I’ve offended you. Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry, okay?” He didn’t mean to sound so exasperated but he wasn’t sure what more he could say.
Y/n watched him, her face faltering ever so slightly before the stoic expression returned. “The fact that you don’t remember makes all of this worse. I didn’t realise our night was so awful you pushed it from your mind. So much for ‘I’ll keep in touch’,” she spat, pushing the crate into him and moving on passed without a backward glance. She’d said her piece, he could do with that what he will.
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John sat on the wing of Mugwump, his legs swinging in mid-air as he took a long swig from his hit flask. His mind still reeling from the afternoon's events as the guilt ate away at him.
He’d fished the letter out from his belongings, tracing over the return address. He should have realised her name was familiar, but then again he should have written her back.
John was still trying to piece together how he hadn’t realised it was her, but with the amount they’d both consumed he was surprised Y/n even remembered him. That still didn’t help clear his conscience.
“Bucky, you up there,” Gale called, glancing around the plane until he noticed the pair of legs hanging from the wing. “What are you doing?”
“I messed up Gale,” John mumbled, taking another drink. He was always impressed by how much whiskey his hot flask could hold and he was starting to feel a nice warm sensation as it flowed around his body.
“What have you done?” Gale asked, hoisting himself up the ladder and onto the wing beside John. He offered Gale his hit flask but the other pilot shook his head, waiting for his friend’s explanation.
“Do you remember that night I had in London a few months ago? When I said I met this amazing woman and we had a wonderful night together, she wanted me to write to her and she wrote me a letter and I never replied,” John rambled, his tongue becoming looser as the alcohol flowed. “Well, that’s Y/n, the nurse on base. It’s the same woman, Gale.”
Gale nodded, processing his friend's confession, “Well at least now we know why she’s so angry at you all the time, you were a total ass.”
John rolled his eyes glaring at Gale, “Thanks Buck, that’s really helpful.” Groaning, John pushed himself up, balancing precariously on Mugwump’s wing. “I’ve gotta make it up to her, Buck. Women like grand gestures, don't they?”
Buck shuffled further away from the edge of the wing before standing, grasping his friend's hands, “I don’t think she wants a grand gesture, Bucky. I think she just wants you to apologise.”
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Passing back and forth down the infirmary corridor, John found himself fighting the urge to make a run for it. He could easily head down the corridor and back out onto the hardstand before anyone noticed he was there in the first place.
Movement from within the infirmary caught his eye. He watched curiously as Y/n moved along the beds, sitting down beside a wounded airman, his head clad in bandages, covering the burns he’d sustained on the last mission. She was speaking quietly to him, too quietly for John to hear, but he saw the young man instantly relax in her presence. She was a good nurse and John had taken her kindness for granted. He had to make things right.
He wrapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for the mumbled reply, before pushing it open. Y/n was smoothing down some fresh bedding, tucking the sheets tightly into the bed.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he interrupted, watching as her movements still and her whole body stiffened. He hated that he had this effect on her.
“What can I do for you, Major?” Her voice was plain, emotionless and her eyes seemed hollow, as though she stared right through him.
John felt his palms sweating as he spoke, “I need to talk to you, to apologise for my behaviour.” Y/n seemed uninterested in what he had to say, continuing with the task at hand, but John wasn’t about to give up on her again.
“My behaviour has been unacceptable and I know that I can probably never make it up to you but I want to try. I was not in my best form the night that we met, I was drunk and uncaring and I’m sorry I never wrote back. I intended to but I just never did, and I have no excuse, I’m just sorry I never did. You’re a great girl and any man would be lucky to have you write to them, I only wish that I hadn’t messed things up.”
John had never outed his heart out before, he’d never even revealed this kind of vulnerability to Gale, so he was a little shocked. Had he said too much? Would she hate him even more now?
Y/n had stopped her movements, still bent over the bed, her hand clutching the sheet. John watched her shoulders sag, and a long, drawn-out sigh slipped from her lips.
“It’s okay, John,” she murmured, defeat evident in her appearance. “I knew the kind of man you were when we met, I was just excited that a man such as yourself wanted to give someone like me any kind of attention.
She stood up, a few tears trickling down her cheeks, “You know the worst thing was I really did think you’d write back. That’s what hurt the most. Then when I got my orders to move to Thorpe Abbott I thought maybe we had a chance, but you didn’t even recognise me and I knew I never stood a chance.”
The pair stood in silence, the clock on the wall ticking louder than ever as time passed. John spoke up first, unable to stand the tension any longer.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n, for all of it. I understand now why you hate me so much, and I wouldn’t blame you. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Any way at all?”
Y/n’s forehead creased as she thought, her nose wrinkling as it had the same night they’d met when he’d asked her about her family. He could see it now, all the small details that he’d appreciated when he met her, if only he’d taken the time to study her when she came to base he’d have known.
Y/n shook her head, “What’s done is done. Let’s just move on and forget about it all.” She turned away, returning to the bed she’d been making, but John grabbed her arm.
“I don’t want to forget it, any of it. That night with you was one of the best nights of my life. I was free from judgment when I was with you. You never once called me Major or treated me like I was better than you, you treated me like a normal person,” John admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I’d really like another shot if you’d let me.”
“Alright,” Y/n replied, “But if you break my heart again, Major then I won’t be so forgiving.”
John chuckled, saluting her, “Anything you say, Ma’am.”
Y/n rolled her eyes turning back to her job, but John spun her back around to face him, “I have some leave coming up to go to London. What do you say to come with me?”
Y/n smiled softly, “I’d love to, but I don’t know whether I can get the leave.”
“All sorted, it’s already been approved.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Well that’s pretty cocky of you, Major. What were you planning on doing if I said no?”
John grinned, “I would have just asked Buck to come with me, although he’s not nearly as beautiful and I don’t think I’d want to share a bed with him, he snores you know.”
Y/n laughed, moving her arms so they rested behind his neck, fumbling with the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Alright Major, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
John grinned, cupping her cheek softly in his palm, he pressed his lips down to her, his moustache tickling her lips but that was the least of her concerns. His hands moved to her hips, resting firmly and pulling her closer. He smiled into the kiss, it felt so right, bringing back all the memories from London all those months ago. He wished he’d written her back now, he could have been kissing her all this time, but at least he could make up for lost time now and he intended to.
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Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @blueberry-ovaries
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arcsimper5 · 4 months
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Rafael, my love...
Yeah, the first time I saw this thicc boi cleaning graves I was smitten.
Have some screenshots of married life :P
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He doesn't even take his clothes off to sleep. Dedication. (Side note, please tell me we'll get a bathroom in the house at some point haha)
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TOO CUTE
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NO, BABE, TELL ME, PRAISE ME
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That poor little sad face almost makes me forgive the fact this was moments after he crawled in AT 00:50. RAF WTF
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Look, I'm just saying, there's a reason that mom and pops weren't invited to the wedding lol
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He says this when I have over 100K coins haha. Bless his cottons.
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Perfection.
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Absolute perfection.
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<3
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He likes the quiet life <3
Can we get a crowdfunder to make Rafael real now please?
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chimchimsauce · 22 days
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How the LADS Boys React to You Being Ace
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In celebration of International Asexual Day <3
Zayne
As your doctor, it's safe to say that Zayne knows quite a lot of your personal information - maybe more of it than you would like tbh
You never had to actually "come out" to him
Zayne knew you were ace longer than you did
After all, you always answered "no" to that dreaded question that comes up at every checkup
Though, even if you didn't, he would have known anyway
He's always paid special attention to you - he probably knows you better than you know yourself
On top of that, Zayne is on the spectrum himself
He can take sex or leave it, it doesn't matter much to him
Zayne discovered the label when he was studying in college and taking a gender and sexuality course and immediately felt drawn to it
When you finally muster up the courage to confess your feelings to him, mumbling something about aces and cake and other poor analogies, he just smiles at you softly and takes your hand
"All I've ever wanted is to be close to you. Nothing else matters."
He eventually comes out to you one day when you're complaining about not having any asexual friends
"Are we not friends?"
It takes you longer than you'd like to admit to understand what he means.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked."
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Rafayel
Honestly, you had never planned on talking about sexuality with Raf
He's just so blase about everything - being in his presence never opened up the opportunity to have any sort of deep discussions
But everything changed after Ebb day.
Rafayel was so sick - so vulnerable - and yet he trusted you with such a huge secret
It's only fair for you to tell him something personal about yourself, right?
The next time you visit him, you blurt it out as soon as he comes into view
"I'M ASEXUAL!"
He's so startled that he drops his paintbrush
"Why are you shouting?" he asks, bending down to pick it up
"I'm asexual," You say again, this time a bit quieter.
Your heart is beating a million times a minute
"I heard you the first time," he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes
"Is that all you have to say?" you ask him
"Congratulations," he says sarcastically
"You're so annoying," you say, rolling your eyes and walking over to see what he's painting
"At least I know you don't want me for my body," he says, "I was beginning to think you were secretly one of my groupies with the way you stare at me so much."
"I do NOT stare at you!"
"Suuuuure you don't."
Later that day, when the sun has melted behind the shore and the stars hang heavily in the sky, you pause at the door, fingers barely brushing the brass doorknob.
"Raf," you say, refusing to turn your head to look at the artist lounging on the couch
"Yes?"
You fall quiet, not sure what you want to say.
"Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours, Miss Bodyguard. I told you I never want you to leave my side. Nothing will change that."
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Xavier
It's been a long day
There was a Wanderer attack that took longer than you thought it would to resolve
On top of that, there was a long meeting you couldn't skip
All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and sleep for a thousand years
So how did you end up squished in a booth next to Xavier as Tara happily prattles on about the date she went last night
You're happy for her, honestly, and any other time you'd love to sit and gossip with her, but you're just too tired today.
As if reading your mind, Xavier suddenly stands up, startling Tara
"I just remembered I have to get home to feed my dog," he says, offering his hand to you, "We'll see you at work tomorrow."
Without even giving the poor girl a chance to respond, he whisks the two of you out of the restaurant, starting the journey home
"Thanks, Xav. You saved me back there."
"It was nothing," he says quietly.
The sky is dark, but several street lamps illuminate the surroundings. Shadows bounce across his face with every step.
"You know, I'm a little bit jealous of Tara," you say after several minutes in silence
"Why?"
"It must be nice to date like that."
His steady gait slows
"What do you mean?"
"It's just -" your tongue darts out to wet your lips.
You've known Xavier for years at this point. Surely you can tell him, right?
"I'm asexual."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Xavier asks, turning to look at you.
"It just makes dating difficult. It's a dealbreaker for most people it seems."
He cocks his head to the side.
"You don't have problems dating at all," he says.
Now it's your turn to be confused.
"What do you mean?"
"We've been dating for two years."
"Xavier, what are you talking about?" you ask, face reddening at the mere thought of dating your favorite coworker
"We've been partners for two years."
"Hunting partners!" you interject
"Yes," he says, nodding, "And life partners."
You blink at him, dumbfounded.
"We have keys to each others' houses, we eat dinner together almost every day, I hold your hand everywhere we go -"
"Okay, okay, I get it!" You say, embarrassed, "I must be a terrible partner. I probably can't even give you what you want."
"Nonsense. There's only one thing I want from you," he says.
"What's that?"
"The rest of my life with you."
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rafesgoldrings · 11 months
Note
kind of want to see what happens next with the vibrating panties🫣
So he was already pissed off that you were disrespected, but as soon as you gave him full permission to have total control over the panties for the rest of the day? He was taking out every last sliver of anger on your poor cunt. I’m talking max speed when you’re in the middle of a phone call, turning it off completely when he can see you’re about to cum, playing with the speed every five minutes. At one point he’d even created a pattern that he knew would edge you until he stopped it. It would be like this the rest of the day right until everyone else went home, then you’d stumble into his office. Your teary eyes staring at him and legs trembling right as he turned it up again, this time causing you to collapse into the floor. It was too much, you needed to come so bad that it physically hurt. There was a safe word in place but you just wanted to come and if you begged him good enough, he’d let you. So you did, hands and knees placed on the ground as you crawled to his feet, the tears streaming down your face, makeup smudged, mouth parted with whines and whimpers. “P-please Raf-e” he’d look down at you with a mocking frown, holding the remote right in front of your face and gradually increasing the speed. “Oh princess, you can do better than that even when my cocks shoved down that pretty throat of yours. Try it again, all nice and pretty like I like it” so you would, arms wrapping around his calf and wide eyes looking up at him as you begged and pleaded. “Please Rafe, I want to come. I need to come, want to make such a mess for you, just want to be your good girl” sobs wracking your body, one of his hands would increase the speed before placing the remote in his pocket, both hands holding the side of your face. He’d stroke your lips with one of this thumbs before slowing slipping it inside and telling you to suck. “That’s my good girl, you can come baby” he groan, the visual of you sucking his thumb so eagerly while your body shook when your orgasm washed over you made his cock harden. Your cries were muffled by his thumb as you came down, the vibrations too overstimulating. He’d pull the remote out and turn them off, placing it back in his pocket and helping you stand up. Hands gripping your hips as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss and told you how good you were for him, that he loves you and is still sorry for how you were treated. You’d assure him again that it wasn’t his fault and he defended you when he found out, that you were just ready to go home and sleep. He’d agree, grabbing his things and then your hand before walking out the door, laughing at the way you clenched your thighs together and limped to his range rover
Tagging some people that wanted to be tagged in the trophy wife content just in case: @sweetestdesire @iruzias @congratsloserr @fulla02reads @madelynie @xyzstar and @outerbankspov (I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be tagged in all Rafe Cameron fics or not so if you don’t please let me know!)
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
Note
No ones written for Curtis yet !! (Masters of the air) if you wanted and didn’t have any ideas, what about they meet at a pub - he’s loud she’s quiet but he charms his way in ? Something sweet to take away episode threes pain
Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! Our boy Curt deserves some love, too! 🥺 And… what Episode Three? I have no memory of Episode Three, all that happened in Ep 3 was our boys had a big mission and then they all 👀👀👀 made it home safe 😇
(Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
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To the Rescue
You thank the bartender with a smile before turning towards your usual spot along the wall, martini safely clutched in your hands. The pub was positively crawling with soldiers— which was exactly the reason your friends had dragged you out of the apartment tonight.
“You need to get out more!” They insisted as they wrestled your hair into something slightly more stylish, Dot digging through her wardrobe for something suitable for you to wear.
“There’ll be plenty of very handsome soldiers there,” she had said, producing the soft blue dress you had subsequently been forced into, “It’ll be good for you to meet someone!”
You settle against the wall, resisting the urge to yank out the pins digging into your scalp, instead taking a sip of your martini as you scan the crowd.
Your friends had seemingly already chosen their targets for tonight— you spot Ruthie chatting to a blonde Brit over by the bar, and Dot had already managed to drag some poor soldier onto the dance floor with her and her two left feet.
Despite what your friends thought, you were perfectly happy being a wallflower. You enjoyed people watching— just as entertaining as normal conversation without the stress of having to contribute, you had once joked.
The theory was proven as you scanned over the crowd, picking up snippets of conversation, stories, jokes… usually coming from a particularly boisterous soldier speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the whole bar with a distinctive accent— New York or somewhere thereabouts, you guessed.
“Hey there, honey.”
Every part of you cringes inwardly at the voice interrupting your thoughts. British, you note immediately, with that hint of bravado that signaled he didn’t much care for your parts of the conversation— he was just looking to show off for his friends.
You couldn’t very well ignore him, though, and you try to hide your exasperation as best you can.
“Can I help you?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit lonely over here, figured you could use some company. Maybe a drink, maybe a dance…” the Brit grins, and you take notice of the pins decorating both his and his friends’ jackets— RAF boys. Ugh.
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” you assure them with the politest smile you can muster.
“Aw, come on,” one of his buddies speaks up, “Just one dance?”
At the clear refusal of that request, the other man that was with them chimes in.
“Or how about I buy you a drink? Seems like you could use a fresh one,” he says, nodding towards the martini glass in your hand— the one that was still nearly full.
“Thank you, but I’m alright, really…”
You attempt to edge away from them, mind racing for a way to politely let them down so they’d leave you alone.
Just then, a thick New York drawl breaks through the unsuccessful attempts at flirting, a welcome relief from the unfamiliar English accents.
“There you are, sweetheart,” the soldier says loudly, leading you away from the RAF boys, “Been lookin’ for you everywhere!”
One arm slung over your shoulder, he leans down to whisper in your ear “Trust me, okay?”
Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the other soldiers, he began leading you to a secluded booth in the corner, “I got us a table over here…”
As you slide into the booth, he turns to the RAF boys with a fierce warning glare and a subtle cracking of his knuckles, unseen by you.
The Brits scramble to find other targets, and the soldier — you still haven’t gotten his name — returns his attention to you.
“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep,” he says, “You just, uh… seemed like you weren’t havin’ too good of a time over there.”
“No, it’s fine,” you assure him softly, shaking your head, “Thank you, um…”
He seems to realize what you’re waiting for, and sweeps into a bow as he introduces himself.
“Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, at your service,” he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “But everyone calls me Curt,” he adds, straightening up.
There’s a moment of awkward silence as you smile and nod in acknowledgement, and then realize that you have absolutely no idea what to say now.
“…Well,” the soldier— Curt— says, once it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything, “I’ll leave you be, but if those guys bother you again just gimme a holler, yeah? I’ll sort ‘em out.”
“Wait!” You say as he turns to go, the loudest you’ve spoken all evening.
You pray the flush in your cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light of the pub as he turns back and you say hesitantly, “You can… stay, if you like.”
You gesture to the empty space of the booth, but add hurriedly, “Or if you don’t want to— I’m sure you’d rather—”
“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile, cutting off your nervous rambling.
He slides into the booth across from you rather than next to you, to your surprise, giving you enough space to feel comfortable.
“So, are you ever gonna tell me your name, or am I just gonna keep calling you sweetheart all night?” He asks, adding a wink to make sure you know he’s teasing.
You tell him, just barely loud enough to be heard over the band, and he grins, testing out the pronunciation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
Like with most compliments, you’re not sure how to respond until—
“I don’t normally look like this,” you find yourself saying and oh of all the times you had to actually start talking, why did it have to be now? “I mean— my friends decided to doll me up for tonight, but I’m not normally—” You trail off as your mouth finally takes the hint to stop talking now and silently pray for the ground to swallow you.
“Hey, I should ask them for some tips,” is all Curt says, though, and you find yourself fighting off a smile as he rambles on about “wanting to find something for myself, it feels like everyone’s doin’ the same thing these days…”
The way he sighs forlornly, staring out at the sea of uniforms identical to his, is what breaks you, and the two of you collapse into peals of laughter.
You hear your name being called, and turn to see Ruthie — apparently having abandoned the blonde Brit— flagging you down, until she realizes you have company.
“Oh— sorry!” She says, before gesturing to where your other friend seems to have gotten a bit too deep in her cups, “I’m gonna take Dot home. You take your time, though!” She adds, nodding towards Curt encouragingly in her usual unsubtle manner.
You wave her off and tell her to be safe, blushing furiously at the expression on Curt’s face— he looks entirely too amused by Ruthie’s reaction.
“She gonna be okay?” He asks first, though, nodding towards where Ruthie’s leading Dot out the door.
As you assure him your friends will be perfectly fine, he nods, seeming to consider you for a moment.
“You don’t get out much, do you?”
You nearly choke mid-sip of your martini, surprised at his bluntness.
“What gave it away?” You manage to quip once you’ve recovered, waving off his concern.
“Your friend there,” he nods to the door, “I’ve seen my fair share of girls excited that their friend snagged a soldier, but… never that excited.” He concludes with a laugh.
“I guess I’ve always found all this,” you gesture to the room around you: the dancing, the laughter and occasional shouts from the soldiers, the music, “a bit much? I’ve never really been one for parties or bars or… any kind of socializing, really. Ruthie and Dot were plenty eager to get me out of the apartment for once, though.”
“Well I, for one,” Curt says with a crooked grin, “am very glad they did.”
You meet his gaze for a moment before smiling down at your lap, “So am I.”
The two of you continue talking through the night— Curt dominates the conversation, but in a way that you don’t mind; he fills what would normally be an awkward silence for you with jokes and stories, all the while leaving enough space for you to chime in when you feel like it.
The pub empties as the night goes on, and before too long it’s only the two of you and a handful of other people remaining.
You glance at your watch, wincing as you realize how late it’s gotten.
Curt takes note, already moving to stand as if he had meant to be heading back at this hour and asking with a smile:
“Can I walk you home?”
The easy conversation continues on the short walk to your building, and you find yourself on the front walk with Curt, dreading the moment he walks away.
“Wait— I—” you interrupt as he opens his mouth to bid you goodnight, digging in your small clutch for any scrap of paper you can find.
Producing a torn piece of what apparently used to be a grocery list and a small pen, you scribble down your address, holding it out to him.
“Write to me?”
A bright grin transforms his face as he tucks it away in his breast pocket, next to his heart, “I’d love to.”
The two of you simply… stand there in the moonlight, grinning at each other.
Your gaze scans over him, taking in the hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head, his slightly crooked tie, the equally crooked grin of this boy who took you under his wing for the night.
Summoning all your courage, you rock up onto your toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek.
As your turn to sprint into your building, though, something stops you.
Or more specifically, someone.
Curt reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back towards him. You’re the closest you’ve been to him all night, barely a breath in between the two of you.
He scans your face, gaze dipping down to your lips then back up, searching for permission.
At your almost imperceptible nod, he dips down and captures your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading through you down to your toes in the brief eternity his lips are on yours.
He pulls away, remaining close enough that your noses brush as his thumb caresses your cheek.
“Sweetheart, when I get back to base,” he begins softly, “I am writing you the cheesiest, corniest love letter you’ve ever seen.”
His laughter is infectious, and you hope your giggles hide the flush on your face at the mention of love.
“I look forward to it,” you simply say, barely able to speak around the grin on your face.
With one last gentle kiss planted on your cheek, he bids you goodnight, and you float into your apartment, waiting impatiently for a love letter from Curtis Biddick.
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daddydoddsjr · 1 year
Text
Married — Ficlet
Pairing || Rafael Barba x Female!Reader
@xovalliegirlxo
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Contents/Warning || Angst, medical talk, hospital setting, slightly detailed heart attack
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Rafael didn’t really see the need for anyone to know his business; he had an attitude of, ‘it’s work, not social time.’ You and Rafael got married soon after he graduated law school and the two of you were happy together— just not super open about the marriage. You had a small marriage with only the closest family members present. It was sort of funny, though, when a colleague of his or yours would find out about the marriage in the present since you’d been married several years now.
Olivia didn’t know that Rafael was married, but she was there when he had what she assumed was a heart attack. He was at his desk while she was pacing the room when he suddenly started sweating. He pulled off his blazer but kept sweating, and he suddenly interrupted Olivia, “Benson…” He said in a serious tone. She stopped and looked at him, noticing the strange look on his face, “Raf?”
He blinked, putting a hand over his chest, his eyes looking glossy, “Uh..”
“What’s wrong? Should I call a bus?”
Rafael nodded. It got much worse after that, and it all became a blur to Olivia.
She didn’t know who to call while she was in the hospital, she always knew Rafael to be so work oriented and closed off about his like that she assumed he didn’t have anyone. Until you showed up. You were walking down the hall, looking for his hospital room when you spotted Olivia. You had seen her on the news a few times and knew that Rafael worked closely with her. You walked up to the place she was standing as she was texting Sonny on her phone giving him an update, “Olivia Benson?”
She looked up, “Yes?”
“Are you here for Rafael? Which room is he in?”
“The doctors are running a few tests, they won’t let anyone in the room yet,” She gestured to the room before inviting you to sit on a small waiting sofa next to the door, which the both of you did, “Um… are you family?”
You sighed in relief that he was safely in a bed and the doctors would figure out why he had the heart attack, “I’m his wife.”
That felt like a brick to the head. Rafael was married? How the hell did she not know that? She got over her shock momentarily to make small talk with you, trying to keep your mind occupied while you awaited the doctors return. It didn’t take too long for the doctor to exit Rafael’s room, and you quickly stood up, “Is he okay?”
“He should be fine.”
“Well, what happened? Why did he have a heart attack in the first place?”
“He’s in a common age range for heart attacks in men. He also mentioned to me that he’s been stressed and I believe that that was a main factor in this. Typical heart attack recovery is two weeks to three months, and I suggest after he recovers, he takes some time off of work to reduce his stress.”
You nodded quickly, “Of course. Thank you. Can I see him?”
The doctor nodded and moved aside for you to enter the room. You teared up at the sight of Rafael in the hospital bed, but he gave you a weak smile.
“You scared me,” You sighed, pulling a chair up besides the bed. You sat down and took one of his hands into yours and squeezed gently.
“I’m sorry, mi amor,” Rafael exhaled. But the two of you were just glad that the situation wasn’t any worse than it already was.
-
Rafael still teases Olivia once in awhile for her ‘poor detective skills’ after he recovered and found out that the two of you had met.
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