Had Season 6 Malcolm in mind while writing this, very self indulgent smut
Warnings ! Smut, porn with a tiny bit plot?, PiV, unprotected sex, established relationship, arguing, name calling, dirty talk, reader being as annoying as Malcolm honestly...
Word count: 2029
The garage smelled like motor oil and burnt tires in the heat of a summer afternoon. Everything had been going well: Reese’s illegal horse racing and underage gambling operation, Stevie’s owl vomit study he’d roped him into for a stupid contest, and his own brand-new project — the severely roughed-up 1967 Plymouth Barracuda he’d picked up from the neighbourhood sidewalk.
Who knew? Maybe this time his brain had finally short-circuited and decided to focus on the stupidest thing he knew, deep down, wouldn’t work. It had been days since he started fixing up the Cuda—and there was some progress. I mean, the engine had run for fifteen minutes yesterday !
Was his family right this time? Had he gone absolutely insane?
“It’s so unfair! I mean—everyone is being totally unreasonable. This car is perfectly fine, and it will work—”
A timid hand brushed a loose strand of hair that was in front of his eyes as he was fixing the car’s completely shattered rear left half-shaft, trailing down to caress his temple and cheek, lightly, so lightly he thought the prickly feeling her touch left was going to make him go insane.
Distracted, he turned slightly into her comforting touch. He huffed. “Are you even listening to me?”
She shrieked, gripping her hair, “You are talking far too much ! That car is so beaten up it has trouble even holding together. The front bumper keeps falling off, it has no headlights, the turbo air intake makes a weird sound — hell, I don’t even think this thing has airbags. There’s a reason you bought it so cheap. They wanted to get rid of it !”
He furrowed his brows, an irate look on his face. As he was about to defend his choice again, she regained her composure as she looked at him, smiling bashfully. “Do you know how handsome you are when you get this worked up over something?”
He tensed, but the slight blush on his cheeks and neck betrayed his interest. He sulked, dropping his tools on the ground. “Don’t try to change the subject! No one respects my opinion in this house! I am sick and tired—”
Suddenly, he felt a soft hand on his cheek again, followed by a short but sweet peck on his lips. She leaned back slightly, her hands now resting against his torso. “I love you, Malcolm, but right now, you are talking way too much.”
She crashed her lips back onto his, fully pulling him into a kiss. He let out a soft whine against her. Now she totally caught him off guard.
"I mean, you keep focusing on this rust bucket while your girlfriend is bored out of her mind..."
She pushed him on his back and straddled him on the garage floor, slowly grinding against his growing erection through his grease-stained jeans. "See? Your body knows what it wants even if your brain is stuck on this piece of junk."
"What the h-"
Malcolm's retort died in his throat, replaced by a choked gasp as she settled her weight fully onto his lap. The hard, concrete floor of the garage was unforgiving against his back, but the soft, insistent pressure of her body against his was a welcoming distraction. His hands, which had been gesturing wildly in the air a moment before, now hovered uselessly at his sides, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.
His hands flew to her hips as he kept trying to stifle his moans. The friction on his clothed dick felt absolutely maddening. He could feel the radiating heat coming from her clothed core through his disgusting jeans. Every time she rolled her hips, the rough seam of his own pants dragged against his sensitive length, a torturous pleasure that made his vision swim. He was so hard it was almost painful, trapped and confined, and the damp spot of pre cum soaking through the denim was driving him nuts.
She slowly started to strip her top, her movements deliberate. She tossed it aside to land on a greasy toolbox. Her bra followed, the clasp undone with a flick of her fingers. Her breasts were now bare, and her nipples pebbling because of the cool, oily air of the garage,
A low, guttural moan slipped out of him. The sight of her, half-naked and straddling him in this filth-filled garage, was an image so pornographic it short-circuited his brain. Her hand flew to his mouth, her fingers pressing firmly against his lips. The scent of her own sweaty skin filled his senses.
"Are you trying to make us get caught?", she hissed. Before he could respond, she wadded up her discarded bra and shoved it into his mouth, the soft fabric instantly soaking up his saliva and gagging him. The action was so unexpected, that his hips jerked upward involuntarily, a helpless thrust seeking more of that friction.
His eyes widened, a muffled vibrating in his chest. He could taste her faint floral and sweaty scent on the lace. He was completely at her mercy, his hands still gripping her hips. She smirked down at him and began to grind against him in earnest, using his body for her own pleasure. The pressure against his cock became more intense, more focused, and he could do nothing but take it, his moans now swallowed by the makeshift gag, his fingers digging so hard into her flesh he knew he'd leave bruises.
"Now... shut up about the car, Malcolm," she whispered against his mouth. "And show me what those genius hands can really do when they're not holding a wrench."
He flipped her around, still holding her from her hips, pushing her on the greasy concrete. The air was knocked from her lungs in a sharp gasp, but he was already there, his body covering hers, his mouth crashing down onto hers. His tongue pushed past her lips, tasting her, devouring her, a desperate, hungry act that stole her breath. The contrast was dizzying, the hard, cold floor against her back, the gritty texture of dried oil and dust on her skin, and the overwhelming, solid heat of his body pressing her down, his chest a hard wall against her soft breasts.
Her fingers, which had been clutching his shoulders, now snaked down between their pressed bodies, slowly making a path to the source of his frustration. She fumbled with the heavy button of his grease-stained jeans, her knuckles brushing against the rigid length beneath the denim. With a sharp tug, she yanked the zipper down and hooked her fingers into his waistband, pulling both jeans and boxers down over his hips.
His cock finally sprang out of its confines, hot and heavy against her stomach. Her fingers weren't gentle, they wrapped around his shaft, her thumb smearing the bead of pre-come already leaking from the tip.
"Fuck," he moaned against her mouth. He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged pants. His hips jerked forward, fucking into her hand with a mindless rhythm. He looked down at her, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes dark and wild.
Her other slid down to her own shorts, pushing them and her panties down her legs with frantic urgency. She kicked them off, her bare legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. The wet heat of her core was now open and waiting, slick against his shaft.
He snorted, "So, this is what you wanted?" he taunted, his voice a husky whisper. "You couldn't wait a fucking second while I was working?"
He didn't wait for an answer. With a sharp, decisive thrust of his hips, he breached her. The sudden, full invasion stole her breath, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat as he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth motion.
They moaned in unison, a raw, harmonious sound that was both surrender and conquest. The rhythm of his hips, once a steady, punishing beat, began to falter, becoming erratic, desperate. He was losing control, and the knowledge of it was a heady drug that coursed through her veins. He looked down at her, his expression a mixture of awe and accusation, his breath coming in ragged gusts that fanned across her sweat-slicked skin.
"Almost like you planned this to a T... didn't you?" The words were a low growl, torn from his throat. He didn't wait for an answer. He moved forward, burying his face in the valley between her breasts. The scent of her skin, salty and sweet, was a stark contrast to the industrial smell of the garage. The sight of her spread out beneath him, her body glistening with sweat and grease, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark with a matching desire—it was too much for him. Seeing her like this was a sensory overload.
His thrusts became irregular, chasing both of their releases. "I can see you being this much of a manipulative, conniving whore," he panted against her skin, his words muffled by her flesh. "Sneaking out of your house to come here—"
His tirade was cut short. Her hand, which had been clutching his shoulder, moved and she hooked her fingers under his chin and peeled his head away from her chest with a strong grip. Before he could react, she clamped her other hand over his mouth, her palm sealing his lips shut. His eyes widened, a muffled sound of protest vibrating against her skin.
"God, I thought you'd never shut up," she whispered. "You talk too much." She could feel his hot breath against her palm, his heart hammering against her chest. "Now, are you going to fuck me, or are you just going to keep talking?"
The question hung in the air. He yanked her hand from his face and slammed it down onto the concrete above her head, pinning it there. His other hand gripped her hip, and he resumed his thrusts, but this time a focused intensity which stole the air from her lungs.
The garage filled with the wet, rhythmic slaps of skin, their mingled cries and ragged gasps echoing off the concrete walls. He released her hand, only to hook his arms under her knees, pushing her legs back towards her chest. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, hitting a place so deep inside her that she saw stars.
The coil of pleasure in her belly tightened to an impossible degree, her release threatening to snap. She could feel his control fraying, his thrusts became faster, more erratic as he chased his own release. His fingers found her clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that pushed her over the edge.
Her orgasm tore through her with force, a scream catching in her throat as her body convulsed beneath him. Her walls clamped down around him, a pulsing, rhythmic grip. With a final, guttural moan, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his body shuddering as he poured himself into her, in hot spurts.
For a long moment, they just lied there, tangled on the greasy floor, the only sounds their harsh, ragged breaths. He collapsed on top of her, his full weight a welcome, grounding pressure. The cold of the concrete seeped into her bones, but the heat of his body against hers was a intoxicating.
He didn't move, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Finally, he lifted his head, looked down at her, at the mess they had made of themselves and the garage floor. A slow, boyish grin spread across his face, he whispered, "Well, the car can wait till tomorrow."
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: reader meets Francis at the mall, who turns out to feel refreshingly easy to talk to. what happens when a crush turns serious and they both have to open up about their family lore?
𝘁𝘄: toxic/dysfunctional family dynamics, reader is ashamed of her family and so is francis. fucked up childhoods. lowk trauma bonding (very light). fluff. friends to lovers. angst. jealous!francis. mentions of reader's ex boyfriend.
𝘄.𝗰: 5.3k.
𝗮/𝗻: reader and francis are 20, francis came back from military school. set in the 2000s. my mans Francis doesn't get the attention he deserves fr. hope this soothes anyone that comes from a dysfunctional family <3. you are loved, and will be loved, always. divider credits to @cafekitsune.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't noticed the cute blonde boy who stood a few feet away from you at the record store at your local mall.
You were looking for a new vinyl in the rock section and had noticed him in the corner of your eye. But as usual, you pretended not to care and focused on your search instead, your eyes traveling across the myriad of discs and artists' names.
You reached for a particularly interesting vinyl when someone's hand accidentally brushed yours. You looked up, moving your hand away from the vinyl like it was about to bite you.
It was him, his blue eyes set on you, his hand still hovering near the vinyl you had both seemingly went for. He was slightly taller. Your body froze when a smile graced his lips, his eyes still set on you before he seemed to regain composure.
“Oh, sorry” he said, voice sounding both younger and firmer than you thought it would be.
“No- it's me, sorry” you dismissed, looking shyly to the floor, heartbeat quickening.
He was cute, cute. He wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt, looking casual yet something in his demeanor — the way he stood straight, the way he moved — felt like he was older than he looked.
“You've got good taste” he said, head motioning to the vinyl that had led to your conversation.
“Thanks, so do you” you finally looked up at him to see his eyes hadn't left your figure.
He moved his hand away from the culprit to present it to you.
“I'm Francis, by the way. What's your name?”
You introduced yourself and he repeated your name with an endearing dumb expression of awe on his face.
“I've never seen you before” he noted, eager to get the conversation going. “'Are you from 'round here?”
“I've recently moved” you explained, grateful he kept the conversation going. “With my parents”, you added reluctantly. “Have you always lived here?”
He told you he had, and had recently come back from military school (that explained why he looked more mature) but he was indeed 20, just like you. When the conversation died down and you looked around, assessing the store one last time before leaving, Francis' voice piped up once more, almost desperate.
“If you're free right now, I could show you around the mall?” he suggested, half expecting you to turn him down, trying to sound casual.
But you weren't eager to go back home so soon so you jumped on the occasion, your smile widening. The sight had Francis' heart making an olympic-level jump in his chest.
“Sure!”.
The two of you left the record store, the coveted vinyl long forgotten, and walked around the mall. Spring was right around the corner, meaning the sun was out, shining strong, warming bodies but it wasn't hot enough to air-condition the mall. When you passed by a store, Francis bought the two of you cola, your fingers brushing his as you reached for the can he offered you.
“Thanks” you smiled and Francis knew he wanted to be the reason you smiled for the rest of his life. “So, is that where you usually spend your Saturdays?”
“I used to, a lot, back in high school” he explained, as his steps matched yours, the two of you taking your sweet, sweet time ambling mindlessly. “Especially with my brothers.”
You nodded. You would've asked about his brothers and family but you knew this would be the gateway for him to return the questions and inquire about yours, which was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Little did you know neither did he.
“And what do you do, now that you've come back from military school?” you peered at him over your sip of cola.
“Uh… well, I'm looking for a job.” To move out as soon as possible, he was about to add but refrained to. “How about you?”
“Yeah, I see” you nodded in agreement. “I'm actually in college, now.”
“Oh, what do you study?” he inquired, surprised.
"Law”.
His eyebrows comically shot up, an intrigued smirk tugging at his lips. Beautiful and smart, he thought to himself. He could never, ever be up to your level.
You took in his smile, your heart making a leap, grateful for the crisp coke in your hand cooling you down. You both walked straight to the mall's exit, your stroll coming to a natural end, and your heart immediately sank at the idea of having to leave.
Once outside, Francis' blond hair shined bright under the sun and you felt as though you were in summer, his blue eyes reminiscent of the sea, his smile lingering like the afterthought of a joke he hadn't said yet. If love at first sight was a thing, then this was it, because you were down bad.
“I really enjoyed that, thank you for taking pity on me and showing me around” you said honestly, eyes flickering all over his face.
His mouth went dry under your scrutiny. The sun brought out your eye color so strongly he knew he wouldn't be able to think of anything else for a long, long time. He couldn't let you go. He wouldn't.
“We should do this again. How about next Saturday? I could take you to a movie” he shrugged, like it wasn't a full-on date he was proposing.
"Yes!” you immediately accepted. Whether he was being friendly or hitting on you, you didn't want to miss the chance of making a new friend in town. He gave you his home number and you both went your separate ways.
When you arrived home, you were faced with a dilemma.
When is the right time to call when a guy gives you a number? The same day? The day after? Or the day of your date meeting?
You decided not to call, partly because you didn't want your parents eavesdropping on your conversation, partly because you didn't want to seem desperate.
For the next five days, Francis asked Lois, Hal, and his brothers whether or not someone had asked for him on the phone. They all noticed the way his head perked up from his lounging position on the living room's couch each time the phone rang. But whenever they inquired about it, he would immediately become elusive, sometimes straight up mean.
Finally the next Friday rolled around and you decided to call to ensure you were still meeting at the mall the next morning.
You dialed the phone number when the living room was empty, your parents off who knows where, and waited.
It rang once. Twice. Thre-
“Hello?” it was a young man's voice, definitely not Francis'. Probably one of his brothers, you recalled.
“Hi, could I please speak with Francis?”
“Who are you?”
Ok, rude. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.
“Tell him it's the girl from the ma-”
You heard a voice shout and a faint “give me that, idiot!” followed by a small "ow!” on the other side of the line and then-
“Hey!” it was Francis' voice. He said your name. “I'm glad you called, I was beginning to worry you'd lost the number”.
He immediately silently cursed himself when the words escaped his mouth. So not cool.
He sighed in relief when he heard your genuine laugh on the other side of the line.
“I didn't know when to call” you admitted, partly out of pity for his evident embarrassment. “Are we still, uh… meeting tomorrow?”
“Yeah sure, let's say 11am at the mall?”
“Perfect, see ya.”
“See ya, bye.”
You hung up and had to hold a happy scream in. You jumped in place in excitement before finally going back to your room. Ok, now, what should you wear for tomorrow?
Back at the Wilkersons', the smile looming on Francis' face could only be seen as sly from Lois' perspective.
“What're you doing at the mall tomorrow?” Lois' voice came out sharp, judgment ready to bounce off of anything he could say.
Francis sighed and turned around to face his mother.
“I got a job interview” the lie came out naturally as he rolled his eyes.
Lois' expression turned stunned.
“Francis, really? That's amazing… !” said Lois as she went back to her room, already telling Hal the happy news, shock evident in her voice.
Once out of earshot, Francis immediately turned to Malcolm who had been the one to pick up your call in the first place.
“If you say anything to anyone I'll personally make sure everyone knows you had started a journal after bounding with mom” he glared, ready to seal his promise with an ass-beating.
Malcolm's shit-eating grin immediately faltered.
“So unfair” he whispered to himself as he went back to his own room, leaving Francis with a ridiculous smile on his face and an erratic heartbeat at the idea of seeing you again.
You noticed the blonde man leaning against the wall from a few feet away. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, and you were relieved that you hadn’t over-dressed yourself (jeans, a tank top, and your favorite jacket). He also wore sunglasses which made him look way more intimidating than he actually was.
The second he saw you getting closer, his posture changed, as he held his shoulders back, pushed himself off of the wall and waved at you. Once you were standing at arms length, unsure how to greet him, he took the chance to give you a once over, an approving twinkle in his eyes when he removed his sunglasses.
“Hey, you look great!” he said, looking at your entire figure again.
“Thanks, so do you!” you tried to make it sound friendly and not as down bad as you felt deep down.
You both walked inside the mall, letting Francis guide you to the cinema. Your shoulders occasionally brushed as you ambled side by side, allowing you to get a whiff of his cologne. The two of you fell into easy conversation as he asked you about your favorite film genre, favorite artists, and your hobbies. It felt truly refreshing and almost foreign to talk with somebody who listened, truly listened to you.
Your ex boyfriend had the attention span of a fish, almost never letting you finish your thoughts and only listening to you when the subject matter was him. You had grown accustomed to feeling like you were talking to a wall the minute you talked for, god-forbid, longer than thirty seconds about something other than his person.
Now, you had the awful habit of tracking people's face to make sure you weren't oversharing or boring them. Francis noticed how you peeked discreet glances at him between sentences like you were worried he might not be truly listening. Except he was, and your heart ached in bittersweet surprise when you saw his attention was on you, full and undivided. He nodded, engaged with and reacted to everything you said.
Being with him felt so easy not even silence made you feel uncomfortable anymore. It quickly dawned on you that there was un underlying and silent understanding between the two of you yet you couldn't pinpoint how or why that was.
That's how you discovered you had very similar music tastes and that he was overall quite in tune with the current culture of your times. The two of you had gone from talking about music and films to politics and the state of the U.S within 10 minutes. Both of you had so much to say to one another, like you were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years, that it is almost reluctantly that you piped down for the film.
Sitting so close to each other in silence felt even better than walking side by side talking. Your shoulders definitely brushed all the time now, and your fingers accidentally intertwined more than once when you both reached for the popcorn. Each time, you wished for it to happen again, and each time a jolt of electricity coursed through you.
Francis could hardly take his eyes off of you. There was a time (just a few years ago, truthfully), when he wouldn't have waited until the next date to make a move or full-on sleep with girls. But it felt different with you, not because you deserved more 'respect' or whatever, but simply because the connection felt real and… deeper. He didn't want to screw this up.
When the film was over, the two of you length fully discussed it, sharing your opinions on the ending, on the plot and on the actors. Francis' opinion differed from your own but you could understand each other's points of view.
When you passed by a video games store, Francis chuckled. Eyebrows furrowing, you sent him a questioning look.
“What is it?” you asked, a smile slowly creeping up your own face.
God, his smile was so contagious.
“Nothin', I, uh… I once got arrested in that store” he shrugged, half-ashamed, half-amused by the anecdote. He tried to gauge your reaction from the corner of his eyes. Would you think less of him for this anecdote? And if it were the case, what would be of the three hundred other ones he had in store?
You chuckled, definitely amused, and Francis released a sigh he didn't know he withheld.
“Shit, why?” you laughed.
“Stole a game” he grimaced, still scanning your features.
“My, my, have you the makings of a bad boy, Francis?” you mused jokingly.
His heart stuttered at the sound of his name coming from your beautiful lips. He knew he would do anything you asked him to just to hear you say his name again.
“Actually… I was a real brat when I was younger. 'Ts why my parents sent me to military school.” he admitted, still testing the waters.
You nodded slowly, understanding the subtext — and trying to imagine of what it exactly consisted without sounding invading.
“So… a rebel?” you guessed.
“Eh… Something like that” he bobbed his head. “I think I just enjoyed giving them shit because I didn't really feel… seen.”
When he realized how deep this sounded, he quickly dismissed it with a shrug, not wanting to ruin the mood. But your eyes were set on him and they didn't convey contempt or shock but… understanding. He felt his embarrassment melt away, a sense of calm washing over him.
“I get it. I've felt this way too, in my family” your words finally came out, voice softer than he’d heard it yet and he could tell you were saying the truth.
Five minutes later, the two of you were cracking jokes together, Francis stealing glances to watch you laugh every single time.
Over lunch, he told you a few stories about his time at the military school, most of them being so insane you didn’t know whether you had to cry or laugh about the things he had endured over there.
A little while later, you walked into random stores to crack more jokes and comment on the things you saw — games, books, movie tapes. One second you were telling him about a particularly bad movie you’d seen, the next you were talking to a stranger. You looked around, any trace of Francis gone.
“Francis?” you called, eyes darting around the store.
“Sssh!!”
Something yanked you from your sleeve until you were crouching behind a shelf next to Francis.
“What-“
He brought his hand up to cover your mouth and your heart stuttered at the contact. The softness of your lips on his hand had him making a double take to look at you, the silliness of the situation fully dawning on him. He slowly removed his hand, mouthing a silent and incredibly hot “sorry”.
“I thought I saw my mom and brothers” he explained as he helped you stand back up next to him.
He knew it was silly and that you didn’t deserve to be hidden. But it was exactly because you were the picture of perfection that he could never introduce you to them. You’d probably run off and move cities if not countries if you did.
He couldn’t tell you felt the exact same way, especially with having a father unable to be stable or save money.
So the both of you were stuck in a half-lie, half-truth about your childhood and family situation.
For those few seconds during which you stood close to Francis after he’d helped you back up, his hand lingered over yours and your eyes locked. The proximity had you basking in his blue eyes, adrenaline coursing through you. You realized that maybe, all of this was only in your head. That probably, in fact, you were imagining things and that Francis was just a friendly guy. Then, a nearby kid dropped his toy on the floor, startling you and bursting the bubble you were in.
When Francis moved his hand away, yours felt immediately cold like it didn’t know it had needed his warmth during all the years before you met.
“Well…” you broke the awkward silence. “I’m actually meeting a friend in half an hour so I should probably…” you trailed off.
“Oh, yeah, sure, no, of course” he mumbled quickly, shaking his head vigorously. “I, uh… I had an amazing time with you, uh… I’ll call you”.
Was he blushing? He seemed so panicked you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. You did an awkward wave as a goodbye and exited the store.
Ten minutes later, Francis realized he couldn’t call you because he didn’t have your number. You had his. So you were going to spend the next few days waiting for a call that would never arrive.
“Fuck!” Francis whispered. Not only did he fumble you, he also had to come up with a lie as to why he didn’t get the job he was supposedly interviewing for today at the mall.
He was so screwed.
Obviously, you didn’t hear from him again. By Friday night, as you got ready to head to a party a friend had invited you to, you’d given up on your hopes altogether. Clearly, you had misread his whole demeanor. How could you ever think he was into you?
While you were a little bummed out by the situation, you were glad you could still fend for yourself, what with you getting invited to a party so soon after you moved here. You’d been invited by James, an old high-school friend who’d moved here as well and went to the same college as you. All in all, excitement overtook your disappointment when you arrived in front of his house.
The music boomed through the walls and the floor, as a complete stranger opened the door to greet you in.
“Where’s James?” you asked, hanging onto the only familiar person there was.
The stranger, a girl with an empty cup in her hand, motioned to the kitchen. You made your way through the crowd, a mixture of faces, alcohol and laughs, until you recognized his familiar black hair and back. When you stepped close enough for him to see you, he gave you a short friendly hug before introducing you to the two boys who stood next to him.
The first one was tall, also a brunette, and had gorgeous freckles all over his face. You didn't quite register his name with all the noise but when you turned to look at the second boy, you almost blacked out.
Blonde, tall, and very cute. Your blood ran cold.
“And this is Francis” said James, his hand still hovering near your shoulders for support.
Francis' heart did a jump in his chest at your familiar face but wasn't too fond of the way James had hugged you a few seconds ago. Was he missing something there? Were you guys together?
“Uh, yeah, we- we know each other” you managed to say, eyes still locked in his.
You didn't know whether or not he was happy to see you. Your breath hitched but you managed to fake a smile.
“Really? That's cool as fuck!” said James happily before he was called by someone else from the living room. He excused himself and the other brunette left with him, leaving you alone with Francis.
An awkward silence befell the two of you, as you pretended to take a sip of your drink while looking at the other party members.
Francis, on the other hand, racked his brain to come up with something cool to say, and not sound totally hopeless but when you caught his eyes on you and held the eye-contact, his mind short-circuited and he spluttered:
“I forgot I didn't have your number but you had mine and didn't know how to reach you, I'm sorry”.
You sighed in relief under his cool blue eyes that flickered all over your face and body.
“It's fine, y'know, you didn't have to feel obligated-” you started.
“No, no, I mean it!” he said with vehemence. The hug James gave you flashed suddenly in his mind and before he knew it, the words spilled out of his mouth: “I really like you”.
The cup you held stopped midway to your lips, your body freezing for a good second. The look of desperation on his face was so endearing.
“Really?” your said, disbelieving.
Before you could register anything, his lips crashed into yours with a suddenness neither of you had expected. The kiss was brief and sweet and you barely had time to melt into it that he already pulled away, an apologetic look on his face like his confidence wavered as quickly as it had overtook him.
“Sorry, I, uh…” his eyes darted to the floor then back up to your face.
You stood on your tip toes to kiss him again, silencing him once and for all, your mind saturated by the softness of his lips, the smell of his cologne and the aftertaste of alcohol. You felt his hands instinctively wrap around your waist, his hold firm and keeping you upright like he was the lighthouse in the sea of your life. The music, the people around, the fact you weren't in your own house, it all faded away like it was a distant memory. As you kissed, one of his hands moved to your upper back, drawing soothing circles that had you weak at the knees and wanting so much more.
At last, the two of you broke apart, his eyes rendered darker by whatever consuming desire had risen in him, yours deliciously taking in the sight of his face.
You hadn't been able to talk much about the kiss afterwards, though, because Francis' old friends came by and while he tried to include you as much as possible in the conversation, amid all the embarrassment of his friends recalling his old bratty and lowkey illegal younger years, you obviously couldn't benefit from any privacy now.
Eventually, you had to leave. Needless to say, Francis was grateful for his mom's car when you accepted to get a ride home.
The city streets were empty as you watched the street lights fade in and out of your view, sat on the passenger side, still as a statue, expression unreadable. The radio played faintly and your mind couldn't stop playing your earlier kiss on loop.
And Francis? Oh, he was over the moon. His hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his face was hot (since when was it so hot in this car?!). He kept peeking glances to read your expression, on the corner of his eyes but you looked calm, pleased… and you were quiet. And while Francis had never minded being quiet with you, this time the air felt charged with something electric, unsaid and exciting.
This was his chance. His chance to make you his. His chance to claim you and declare his love. Yet every time he opened his mouth, he thought about how perfect you were, how beautiful, how talented and smart, and how lame his family was.
“Man, James was really wasted, wasn't he?” he finally said.
Your whirlwind of thoughts stilled as you turned to look at him. You'd been waiting for him to say something, you just didn't think he would come up with that. A chuckle escaped your lips nonetheless as you recalled your brunette friend.
“Yeah, totally. Don't even know where he ended up being when we left” your voice came out lower than he’d heard it yet, your words slower too.
You were tired, and frankly done with putting a strain on your voice all the time. It felt odd not having to force your voice to be louder than it naturally was. You’d always talked louder around people out of fear they would be dismissive of your words, like your volume could compensate for their lack of listening. It always felt like this with your friends, and your parents too. But it didn’t feel this way with Francis.
Francis looked at you. Saw you. Always listened intently.
Tonight wasn’t any different. You felt your shoulders relax, and any embarrassment related to your lack of certainty about where you stood with the blonde man smoothed into the simple joy of being next to him.
Maybe this was enough. Maybe just sitting next to him was good enough. Maybe you shouldn’t be greedy.
A surge of honesty overtook you.
When he didn't say anything else, you added: “Thanks, by the way, for the ride. You really didn't have to. I might…” you thought a second before you finally let go of (almost) all pretense, “My father’s gonna give me so much shit” you sighed, covering your eyes with your hands.
His brows knitted when he recognized that expression on your face: that ultimate despair at the idea of facing a parent. His curiosity got the best of his quiet promise that he would never bring families up.
“Why?”
The question hung in the air, curious, so quiet it was soft. His voice was soft. You liked his voice.
“Because I was supposed to leave that party like, two hours ago.”
You shook your head.
“I’m so tired of him always following my every move!” you couldn’t stop your complaining now. It felt so good letting it out, even if you had promised yourself you wouldn’t.
“Yeah I get that. My mom still does it although I’m a fucking adult now”.
Your head snapped in his direction. That tone of his voice, the exasperation…
“Yeah, exactly!” you agreed. Did he just put words on what you’ve been feeling for the last few years?
“I went to military school, I’m trying to find a job, I stopped hanging out with my loser friends and it’s still not enough. She’s never satisfied.” he added, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
“Same here! I literally did my best in school, graduated valedictorian from high school, went to law school, and they still think I can't make good decisions on my own! I'm tired of being babied by parents I had to raise!”
A heavy silence followed your last sentence, the realization hitting you both like a slap in the face. Your chest heaved slightly in anger, as you got lost in Francis' eyes. The car stopped at a red-light, allowing him to take your features in, your words echoing in his mind as much as yours.
He kissed you.
And this time, the kiss didn't feel like any other kiss. This kiss was a way to say: I see you, I hear you, I feel for you. I understand you. I love you.
The door behind which you hid your family all these years cracked open. Just a slit, barely wide enough to see anything and yet… You knew there was no coming back from this. You knew you'd have to be honest and come clean (eventually) with Francis.
The both of you pulled away when the light turned green. Francis drove again, but not before taking a good look at you, his heart fluttering with something he wasn't really familiar with.
“I really like you” he finally said, a deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face. This was the second time he said that tonight. Did he mean to say something more?
You smiled, for real this time and shifted a little closer.
“Me too.”
“Will-can you be my girlfriend?” he spluttered.
The thing about Francis is, that man might be terrible with his words but god, was he good at taking action, you thought as you recalled the kiss(es).
“Yes”.
Lois was the first to notice Francis’ newfound happy mood. Then his brothers noticed too. And eventually, Hal did. Until one dinner Lois broke the ice when she noticed how quiet her eldest son was:
“Ok, who is she?”
Francis’ eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“Who?” he asked, almost cheekily, chewing his food.
“Your girlfriend. You obviously have been seeing someone, that’s the only reason why you haven’t been mistreating your brothers lately!” she shrugged her shoulders, unimpressed.
Francis rolled his eyes but his heart fluttered at the thought of you. There was no way in hell he was going to tell his family about you, though. The last thing he wanted was for them to ruin it.
And so the two of you saw each other more and more, spending evenings at the cinema, weekends at the mall, and sunny afternoons in parks. For the first time in forever, you felt loved when together, and missed when separated.
Francis never hid how pathetic he truly was for you, or at least did a terrible job at it. But you liked it. You liked him. No, scratch that, you loved him. Because you'd come clean about how fucked up your upbringing had been, how bad your father had been as head of the family, and how little privacy you'd grown to have.
And he still loved you, even related to you, and what was once a source of shame was now understood and somehow made easier to live with, almost normal. Yes, dysfunctional families do exist. Yes, it's fine to be from one of them. And yes, you can break the cycle.
But soon enough, Francis' new habit of missing dinners, spending his weekends outside, and overt happiness confirmed his family's suspicion. Was it really a surprise his brothers decided to follow him to the park one weekend and saw a beautiful young girl by his side being all cuddly and-
“Ugh, gross” Reese spat, behind the tree from which he and Malcolm hid, when the two of you kissed.
“She's pretty!” said Malcolm, disbelieving his brother had successfully found a girl like you.
“Mom was right”.
“Of course she was, it was obvious” Malcolm rolled his eyes.
“He's gonna eat shit” said Reese with an evil smile.
When Francis came back home that night, and went to his brothers' room to annoy them, he was faced with two sly younger brothers.
“We saw her” said Reese. "She's really pretty. I wonder what mom's gonna think when she finds out you've been hiding us from her.”
“Hey, do you wanna catch these hands, for old-time's sake?” warned Francis, alluding to his old days of mistreating Malcolm and Reese.
“You won't do anything because you've changed, now. For your little girlfriend” mocked Malcolm with a grin that matched Reese's.
“Aha, so you do have a girlfriend!”
The three of them turned around. Lois had overheard, standing triumphantly by the door, arms crossed over her chest.
“Bring her over for dinner, Saturday, end of discussion.” she said as she turned around, leaving no room for arguing.
When Francis turned back to face Reese and Malcolm, the both of them knew better than to rub salt into the wound and immediately fled the premises. But he didn't run after them. Because a part of him wanted to bring you over. A part of him wanted you to officially see all of him, all of his life and show you off to his family.
Because he loved you.
let me know if you guys want an epilogue of reader meeting Francis' family! it could be fun to write. hope you enjoyed this. god I love him so much. in Francis we trust 🛐🛐🛐
reader has been malcolms weird krelboyne friend for a while now to reese however one day that changes as they bond over music
Reese Wilkerson x fem reader
Summary: to Reese you've always been just one of Malcolm's krelboyne friends, but when he actually starts to talk to you he realises you're actually quite cool
A/n: ok so this is my first mitm fic and I'm very excited so I hope it's good!!
"hey Malcolm, I didn't know you liked descendents." You said looking through the box of CDs that sat on his bed. "Or Weezer.. or sum 41..?"
"I don't." He replies from the desk he's sat at studying. "They're Reese's."
And as if on cue, Reese walks in.
You'd never really spoken to Reese. He was a year older and really not the type you'd usually speak to. You never clashed or argued, you just didn't speak. You'd both just accepted that you probably wouldn't hit it off if you spoke to eachother and decided to stay out of the others way.
However that was all about to change.
As you saw him walk in, you stepped away from his box of CDs, not wanting to seem nosy. But he noticed. Of course he did.
"you can look if you want." Reese said turning to you then looking down at the box on Malcolm and Dewey's bed. "Not that there'd be anything of interest to you in there." saying that last part quieter.
"thanks" you say continuing to look. "You have pretty good taste" you mumble just loud enough for him to hear.
"seriously? I didn't know krelboynes listened to this stuff."
You look up at him with a half glare then turn to look towards Malcolm who's sending him an identical look.
"jeez sorry.." he mutters under his breath as he joins you in looking through his CDs.
***
Throughout the next 25 minutes Reese occasionally pulls out a few albums and asks for your opinion.
"all killer, no filler - sum 41. Opinions?" He'd asked turning the album over in his hands.
"I like it. Probably my favourite of theirs but chuck is a close second." You'd replied before pulling out an album yourself to ask his opinions.
"cool to be you - descendents." You'd announced, pulling it out of the box.
"I love that song they did on that one, merican is it?" He answered in a contemplative tone.
"I like that one too" you said, a faint smile appearing on your lips.
You went on like that until your mum had shown up to come and get you after her shift. You were just about to give him your thoughts on Weezer's blue album when you heard her car pull up outside.
The thought of leaving actually made you feel rather upset. You'd had fun talking to Reese, him of all people, and you didn't want it to end. But all good things had to come to an end and this was one.
"that's my mum" you said picking up your bag from beside Malcolm's desk. "Bye Malcolm. See you tomorrow?"
"see you tomorrow" Malcolm replied.
"bye Reese" you say with a smile so small it was barely noticeable.
"bye.." he'd answered watching you leave their room.
"you like her, don't you?" Malcolm deadpans after watching Reese stare at the door you'd walked out of for around 5 minutes.
"y- no don't be stupid! She's a krelboyne, just like you!" He said, ears turning pinker by the second. "i dont like krelboynes.."
Malcolm just smiled to himself and continued his homework. The two of you would get together eventually and hed be there to say 'i told you so' but until then he'd have to just let it happen. Or maybe not..?
Banner by strangergraphics
I hope you enjoyed this and if you did I'd be up to writing a part two where Malcolm helps them both get together??
Thank you for reading and please feel free to send requests :)
Summary : After your parents found out about your secret relationship with Francis, they forced you to break up and never speak with him again. Little did they know, Francis did something that was the last straw for both Hal and Lois, which led to him being sent to military school even before you could talk to him. Leaving you stressed, overwhelmed, and almost hopeless about what your relationship with him entails…
cw : bittersweet angst with a happy ending, Reader’s parents hate Francis and is overprotective over reader, light swearing.
w/c : 4.3k
a/n : This fic is very loosely inspired by the song "Francis forever", it took me almost a week to write this LMAO, I’ve tried patching up whatever plot holes this fic may have and it’s okay now. This fic is almost like a prologue to s1 ep7 but it has a lot of changes to it. I also quoted one of Francis’ lines because I couldn’t really think of something so sappy at the time of writing this 😭 😭 😭
You and Francis had been dating for the past 6 months, you two were neighbors, and he was a wonderful boyfriend to you despite his troublesome and rebellious nature. He was loving and caring, he is absolutely everything you wanted in a significant other. You could even compare him to those poets in the romantic era by how sappy and sometimes poetic he was with you, especially when he missed you so dearly.
You both did the usual things couples do, going out on dates, sneaking him in your home while your parents are away, and even going on late night drives when everyone is asleep. You were living in absolute bliss when you’re with him, even with his reckless acts and pranks. You found it charming, even a little funny, yet when it goes too far from time to time, a word from you about it would usually make him shut up and listen.
Your parents never liked Francis. Since you moved in next to the Wilkerson’s, they made it clear from what they saw, that they didn’t like the trouble that he usually caused everyday. They’ve heard from many of the other neighbors how borderline evil he is, he did reckless and unsafe pranks, he even got arrested once! They thought that he was a bad influence on you and told you to stay away.
But you couldn’t, aside from his disorderly behavior, he was quite nice and he highly respects you. You have come to love him as he is, even with his faults. Once you started dating him, you both decided to keep it a secret from your parents, knowing that they will force you to break up with him and go no-contact.
It worked for the whole 6 months, yet they found out from Lois during some small talk in the morning, who told them that you were a good kid and that you balance Francis out in the relationship. Your father, who first heard the news, was incredibly mad, both at you and Francis. How could you disobey them despite the countless warnings and commands they have given you about avoiding Francis? It was absurd for them.
They confronted you once you came home from school. You were sat down in the dining room, where they thoroughly scolded, interrogated, and even yelled at you because of the romantic relationship you have with Francis.
“Haven’t I told you countless times to stay away from that boy! He is no good to you, he will only drag you down!” Your father reprimanded in a harsh tone of voice, while your mother nodded in agreement, she didn’t want you to be with someone as troublesome as Francis.
“Exactly! He’s been arrested by the cops once! You shouldn’t be with a criminal like him!” Your mother argues.
“But mom!” You tried to retort, only to be interrupted by your father.
“No ‘buts’! You’re breaking up with that boy tomorrow morning or else you will lose every privilege you have in this damn house!” Your father yelled, giving you an ultimatum.
This ultimatum will completely ruin the bliss you currently have with Francis. But you couldn’t argue further since your parents will make it way worse for you, so you simply nodded, acting as if you felt defeated.
But you were stubborn, you didn’t want to end things with Francis, so when you were excused to go back to your room, you made up a plan. It was simple, you talk to Francis and tell him that you two are going to fake a break-up, and to keep the relationship even more discreet this time. It wasn’t a fool-proof plan, but it was something that could tide your parents over for a brief period of time.
Unbeknownst to you, during some time in the afternoon, Francis had managed to light a car’s engine on fire, the car wasn’t even his! It was the last straw for both Lois and Hal because he has already been in too much trouble and caused too much damage.
They made a few calls to a military school in Alabama, Marlin Academy. They got him enrolled, and in the middle of the night he was taken without his knowledge and was sent to the military school. When he was fully conscious and now in an unfamiliar area, he felt a little panicked and uncertain, but most of all, he was worried for you, especially in regards to his relationship with you. He can't just disappear on you so suddenly! Even if it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was sent away.
The early morning after Francis was sent off, you walked to the Wilkerson’s doorstep, you knocked on the door and clicked on the doorbell. After a few tries, someone finally answered, it was Malcolm, it was obvious that the boy just woke up and felt a little bothered by the knocks and rings.
“What?!” You gasped, almost yelling at this point. Sure you’ve heard from Francis that his mom threatened to send him to military school, but you didn’t think that she was that serious about it. You thought it was some ploy in order to scare him and make him rebel a little less!
“Malcolm, I need to talk to Francis”
“He’s not here, I think mom finally sent him to military school, she and dad talked about it more often lately.”
“Well, what did he do?...” You asked, you wondered what pushed Lois to the edge because he has done countless things to cause trouble.
“I would’ve called Francis right now if he was actually here, what were you even supposed to talk about with Francis anyway?” Malcolm asked, rubbing his eyes to further wake himself up.
“He lit a car engine on fire”
“You’re serious?”
“I need to tell him that my parents found out, and that we need to break up, but not exactly break up. Just pretend and to be more discreet” You rubbed your forehead and sighed, obviously stressed from Francis getting sent to military school and your parents making you break up with him.
Malcolm simply nodded, not even bothering to argue, it’s too early in the morning and he is not in the mood to use his brain just yet. Even if your plan probably has some holes in it.
“Do you want me to tell him if he calls?”
“Just tell him not to call my home number and that my parents found out, but it’s okay since he’s far away and that he and I should keep things more discreet once he comes back” You answered, you felt a little relieved amidst the worry you have for Francis, it means that you have a valid reason to not break up with him just yet since he was sent to military school and probably wouldn’t be able to contact him for a long period of time.
Malcolm nodded again and you bid him goodbye, walking back to your home so that you could explain the situation to your parents. When you explained it, they felt extremely relieved, Francis was gone and he couldn’t be a bad influence to you.
“Just cut contact with him, dear” Your mother replied while sipping her morning coffee.
“Good riddance” Your father continued and nodded in agreement to your mother.
You felt disgusted that they had said that about Francis, they’re acting like he was just some form of nuisance and future criminal, they never really took into account your relationship with him since they are too busy sheltering and overprotecting you from troublemakers like him.
Francis had tried contacting you multiple times after he was given an orientation by the superintendent of the school, Commandant Spangler. But all those times ended with his calls being answered by your parents yelling and scolding him about dating you.
He tried calling one last time on the telephone, for your father to answer.
“Hello? Babe?”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, a nuisance like you shouldn’t even be an inch near my child!”
“What babe?! Haven’t I told you countless times to stop calling them already?!”
Before Francis could even respond to that, your father continued.
“You’re going to ruin their good record and make them into a criminal like you.”
Your father then hung up, making Francis sigh, so he called his brothers instead, Reese picked up the phone.
“Reese! Now you need to listen to me very carefully, I have to tell them something”
“Tell them that they can’t imagine how much I miss them, that it is like a white-hot fire burning in my chest. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought of holding them and stroking their hair and being with them in the perfect golden moment.”
Reese blinked as he heard the call, disgruntled from Francis’ sappy words for his significant other, and honestly he couldn’t be dealing with this so early.
“Did you get that? Go tell them what I said” Francis commands, almost desperate to let you know that he’s still here for you.
“I’m not going to become your messenger Francis!” Reese argued, he can’t even repeat what Francis even said.
“Tell them or else I’ll come back home and tell mom what you did with one of Dewey’s toys”
Reese froze at his threat, he was planning to hide the evidence of Dewey’s broken toy in some way so that he wouldn’t get caught. But now he couldn’t really refuse to tell you what Francis said, so he sighed.
“Fine.”
“And call me back about what they replied with.”
Reese rolled his eyes and agreed before hanging up, planning to tell you on the walk home after classes.
During classes, you couldn’t help but feel preoccupied with thoughts of Francis, his presence usually filled in your space during the day. You just weren’t used to his absence, especially when it’s for a long period of time. It was silent for most of the school day, you were used to Francis’ talking and noise, but not this.
The silence became really noticeable during lunch, you sat with your friend, Kate, who was just eating quietly. You and Kate would’ve usually joined Richie’s table, but now since Francis is gone, you and your friend have absolutely nothing in common with Francis’ friends.
You continued attending your classes before it was finally the end of the school day, you felt relieved that it was finally over. Once you got out of the school building, you walked back towards your home, alone. While walking on the sidewalk, Reese approached you.
“Hi Reese.” You greeted softly.
“Look, Francis wanted me to tell you his stupid message.” Reese starts, still disgruntled from Francis’ threat from earlier in the morning.
“Well, what is it?” You asked, curious and hopeful. At least Francis was still trying to contact you, assuming that he probably called your home number and got cursed at by your parents.
“Aww. That’s sweet, can you tell him that I miss him too and I love him? Also assuming that Malcolm hasn't told him yet, can you also tell him that when he comes back from military school that he and I should keep things more discreet?”
Reese braced himself for whatever sappy thing his brother said before basically summarizing it to you begrudgingly.
“He wanted to tell you that he misses you and it’s like a white-hot burning fire in his chest, his thoughts of holding you and stroking your hair keeps him going.”
“Fine..” Reese answered, disgruntled yet again because now he has to play as your and Francis’ messenger.
You thanked him and smiled before walking towards your house, feeling giddy and even hopeful once more. You could talk to Francis through his brothers, it was like using a pigeon to send a letter.
You continued to hear what Francis had to say from both Reese and Malcolm for the next three days. But they grew tired of sending messages, mostly because it was probably just some sappy and yearning prose he managed to come up with.
The phone rang again at the Wilkerson Household, all three brothers groaned, it was probably Francis yet again. It was Malcolm’s turn to answer, he picked up the phone.
“Hello?” Malcolm starts, his tone clearly showing how tired he is of Francis’ prose.
“Malcolm! I need you to tell them that they are—”
“We are all tired of being your messengers to them! We can’t keep doing this forever! You know, they told you to keep it more discreet, it’s not discreet when we go up to them and tell them your sappy poems!” Malcolm finally snaps and hangs up. Making Reese and Dewey sigh in relief, they all felt bad that now you aren’t going to get any words from Francis, but at the same time, they just can’t keep doing that every single day.
You waited for more messages from Francis after the first three days had passed, you know that he can’t always send a message to you everyday and his brothers are busy with other things! But as the week passed by without hearing a word from him, you felt worried. Sure, he may have probably gotten into trouble and got his phone privileges taken away, but the worry still gnawed on you. You can’t even call him yourself since you don’t know what number he is calling from, alongside the fact that your parents strictly forbade you from ever contacting him.
So the weeks after that, you waited some more, you asked his brothers for updates or messages he may have wanted to tell you. But they don’t have any message to relay, mostly because they’re tired of it, and that Francis doesn’t have any leverage over them since he was not updated about anything happening back at home.
For you, it was radio silence from his end, which made you lose even more hope to make this relationship work. It felt like half your heart was hollowed out and your life is at its quietest state it has ever been even before you were in a relationship with Francis.
You felt numb, it’s not like you couldn’t do anything without him, but at the same time it’s like you are dealing with all of this alone. Your parents hated Francis and his brothers barely even care about what message he’s going to make them relay to you. It was lonely, you find yourself writing letters to him late at night that were never sent because your parents will look through the mail and subsequently inspect your room at times.
Even when Francis knew that he was forbidden to contact you, he kept trying to find other ways in order to keep in touch with you. One of these ways was with writing letters, his fellow cadets found it sappy, even so, he continued to send those letters, but your parents always saw them before you could, and they threw those letters away.
Next, he tried to run away and drive 8 hours just to see you using Commandant Spangler’s car, but he was caught and punished heavily. It was tiring, but he hoped that you would still be there, waiting for him. Even if it was selfish of him to think of it, that you would wait for weeks, almost months, until his parents will be able to fly or drive him home for the weekend or some occasion.
He thought of many ways to make it up to you once he got home, he would take you out on a date by the beach and stay by your side the whole day, it would be as if he was never sent to military school. But unfortunately, those thoughts will never come to fruition as long as his parents make him stay at Marlin Academy.
Three months had eventually passed at this point, you held onto little hope that your relationship with Francis could work, even if you haven’t spoken to him in months. You tried coping, by crafting, finding new hobbies, basically anything that could take your mind off the loneliness you felt without Francis. It worked briefly, until the weight of everything simply crashed down on you one late night.
You felt trapped, your parents have been fussing over you more often since they found out about Francis, every moment with them felt like an interrogation. It was suffocating, you hated it. It was always about what they wanted and what they expected from you as their child, like you were some robot.
Thoughts of Francis getting sent to military school and being essentially ‘trapped’ there also plagued your mind. You knew that he could handle going through such a thing, but at the same time you were scared, scared that once Francis came home he might be unrecognizable from the Francis you knew and loved before he was sent away.
You felt guilty that you are in no position to even try and change what’s happening around you, it was like you’re a bystander witnessing a tragedy, you felt too confused and trapped with your own thoughts and worries that you can’t do anything that would help solve the circumstances you’re experiencing.
Francis didn’t stop after his plans of contacting you failed. He finally thought of sneaking out and hitchhiking in order to see you. He packed a duffel bag and snuck out of Marlin Academy at night. It took over a day, but he finally came back to town. Sure, a little more ruffled and dirtier than he expected, but he couldn’t care less, he’s going to see you and he will ask you to run away from him.
He made Malcolm bring him food while he hid, he also told Malcolm to give you this letter, which was filled with sappy words and plans to run away. Malcolm did it begrudgingly, giving the letter to you while you were walking back to your house after classes.
“What’s this?”
“It’s from Francis.”
You couldn’t believe it yourself, he finally sent you something after three months! Your expression brightened and in some way, you felt lighter than you have ever felt for the past few months without him.
You opened the paper, it smelled horrible, but it probably went through a lot to be sent to you. It was filled with countless words of yearning from Francis. How much he missed you and how hard he had tried in order to talk to you. You felt touched, so touched that he hasn’t ever given up on you while he was away.
You continued reading until the last page, and his words shocked you.
“I want you to run away with me, so we’ll be able to live the lives we have always wanted together. We’ll get an apartment and figure it out. If you want to talk about this, meet me at the park at 8.”
You simply thanked Malcolm and immediately went into your house, eventually sitting in your room and thinking about the implications of the decision you were about to make. Running away with Francis meant freedom, yet you are afraid of the instability you two might experience if the plan came to fruition.
You went to the park just a few minutes before 8, sitting by one of the benches. Once he saw you he immediately ran and held you tightly in his arms. He smelled horrible and you scrunched your nose because of it.
“I know I smell bad, but I just missed you so much” He admits and hugs you even tighter.
You hugged back and almost cried, even if he smells absolutely horrendous, it doesn’t change that you missed him too. After a few moments, you pulled yourself away from his embrace.
“We need to talk.”
“Then how are we supposed to be together?!”
“I don’t want to run away, Francis.”
“What?! Why?! I mean, your parents are too strict, they won’t let us be together! If we run away, I promise to get a job to support us both, we can get an apartment somewhere.” He tries to convince you, you don’t doubt his abilities but at the same time, running away means leaving a lot of things behind, such as your friends and your studies.
“I know, but it’s just that we can’t just leave! I don’t want to drop-out and even if we did run away, my parents would pay big time for a private investigator to find me!” You argued, knowing that your parents will be on your ass even more if you ran away.
“Maybe we can send each other letters.”
“They don’t want to! They have been ignoring my calls.”
“Your parents found the ones that I've sent you.”
“Then send it to your home and make your brothers give them to me!”
You felt absolutely clueless on what to do at this point, you don’t want to break up with him, you can barely even process that idea. After pacing around for a few moments while he watched, an idea popped up in your head.
“I think I could buy myself a phone”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve got a few hundred dollars under my pillow, haven’t spent a cent of my birthday money. I’ll buy myself a wireless plan.”
“Fuck! Why didn’t we think of this earlier?”
“I was too stressed to think about it. You know my parents, ever since they found out, they have been on my ass!”
Francis rubbed his forehead at what you said and sighed, feeling relieved that they found a solution to contact each other. He didn’t doubt himself that he could support you if you guys ran away, but he knows that it’s a really heavy responsibility to be given, especially when everything seems uncertain.
“I’ll buy the phone tomorrow.” You noted to yourself before gazing back at Francis.
“Okay, good, I don’t think I can go back to Military school that quickly, it took me over a day to get here” He admits, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.
“You can stay at my place, my parents are on a business trip together. I can sneak you in.” You offered, he immediately agreed, he wanted to spend the night with you, knowing that he’ll probably be taken away and sent back to military school once they found out that he snuck out.
You walked back home with him, he told you how he hitchhiked in the back of a vehicle with pigs, thus his dirty and ruffled appearance. Once you both finally arrived, you both entered the house silently. You gave him an extra towel and guided him to the bathroom so he can finally take a shower, meanwhile you fixed up your bed so you can make up more space for him.
Once he finished showering and got dressed, he laid down next to you in bed, wrapping his arms around you.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“When are your parents coming back?”
“In a few days.”
“If you could hide me for those few days then we can spend some more time together and catch up.”
You shrugged and nodded at his idea, wanting to spend more time with him as much as possible until your parents would come back. You both continued conversing until midnight, in which sleep finally took both you and Francis.
In the morning, you immediately bought yourself a phone plan so you will be able to contact Francis once he’s back at military school. Honestly, your relationship with him has grown stronger than ever, even if it has been several hours since you reunited with him. It was like nothing had ever changed over the past three months.
After buying the phone, you spent most of your time with Francis, which just consisted of staying at home, watching movies, ordering takeout, cuddling, and just talking! You couldn’t go out with him since people might see and tell both of your families about it, but it was still fun nonetheless. The night before he had to leave, you baked a cake together and ate a few slices, before packing some for when he’s travelling back to military school. You both also made a lie about his whereabouts when asked about it, he’ll say that he snuck out of military school to get some freedom, and you’ll say that you haven’t seen him in months! You both could completely cover up the events of the past 3 days.
You woke up at 2:00am so you could bid him farewell. He was dressed and now carrying his duffel bag by the back door.
“I’ll miss you.” You admitted softly and reached out to cup his cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb.
“I’ll miss you too, I’ll call once I get there, okay?” He replied before smiling, absolutely smitten for you.
“Okay.” You agreed.
“I guess this is it then.” He looked around, it was still dark and several hours until sunrise.
“I love you.” You murmured and gave him a kiss. It was gentle and affectionate, proof that this isn’t your final goodbye to him and that no one will be able to tear you two apart, even if they tried.
“I love you too.” He whispered back once you both pulled away.
“Stay safe.” You tell him as he starts to walk away. He only gave you a nod and a soft smile, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He was breathtaking, he was yours and you were his, nothing could ever change that, and you will always be content with the fact that he’ll still be the Francis you know and love even if he’s miles away from you.
a/n : Hi okay I actually didn't expect this fic to be so long. It was supposed to be bittersweet with no happy ending but I kinda got stuck on that part, so I just made it to have a happy ending LOL, I hope you guys enjoyed this fic, after this is posted I'll start with the requests in my inbox, requests are still open btw!!
