#because i liked his friendship with andy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ash5monster01 · 5 months

Text

Piano Man

Chapter Two - If I Only Had the Words (to Tell You) 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of heartbreak, abandonment issues, emotional vulnerability, heart ache, established relationship

Summary: You and Steve have been dating for nearly 6 months, all of which he’s enjoyed. Yet it has been exactly a year since Nancy told him he was bullshit. So even though he desperately wants to tell you he loves you he’s afraid you might say he’s bullshit too.

word count: 2k

One ←→ Three

Masterlist

Fall 1985

But I only have these arms to hold you

It’s a dark Fall night. The house smelling of popcorn you had popped earlier to watch during a movie. Halloween decorations had been plastered all over Steve’s home, a home that hadn’t been decorated for any holiday in a very long time. You had changed that though, changed him. You made not only this home full, but his heart. Which is why Steve lies beside you in his bed absolutely hating himself for not being able to tell you how he feels. How much he loves you, how much you had saved him these last six months.

You had been there for it all. Cheering in the stands when he graduated, taking your lunch break to visit him everyday at Scoops Ahoy, not getting jelous of his newfound friendship with Robin, taking care of him when the monsters returned and the mall burned down, and even helping him and Robin get hired at the video store where you had worked this entire time. Everytime he thought you'd leave, somehow you were still there, and he appreciated you for every bit of it. So why the hell couldn't he say it?

He knew why. He knew because everytime he looked at the plastic Halloween decorations filling his home he was brought right back to Tina's Halloween party. Right back to that very bathroom where the only girl he ever loved looked into his eyes and told him he was bullshit. It had been a year but he still remembered how devastated he was, how his heart felt as she ripped it straight from his chest. The look in her eyes was seared into his memory, devoid of any emotion but distate blazing in them. He couldn't relive that, wouldn't relive that. Especially with you.

He may have loved Nancy but with you it was different. With you, he knew you were going to be the one. The one person handcrafted specifically for him. A soul designed to match his own in a large and lonely world. Somehow he had found you and now he wouldn't do anything to risk it, he would guarantee it. It had hurt when Nancy said she didn't love him but if you did. Well that would kill him.

"What kind of candy do the kids like?" you ask in the dark bedroom, voice overlapping that of Billy Joel's from the cassette player. You're My Home played softly throughout the room and you wished Steve knew that was how you felt about him. That until now you were pretty sure you had nowhere to belong and now you belonged to him.

"Why do you ask?” Steve hums, hands reaching to run through your hair. He lived for nights like this, where you just laid here with legs tangled together and talked about things practically meaningless.

"Well I want to make them happy, I know how much they love Halloween. Dustin hasn't shut up about it all week and I want something to cheer Mike up. I know how badly they wanted to dress up as The Goonies but with Will and El gone they can't" you tell Steve, hand lacing with his own under the covers. Steve smiles softly at you and how much you care for the very kids he had taken under his own wing.

"I don't know what kind of candy they like, I'm sure whatever is fine. As for Mike, tell him we can be Andy and Brand. Maybe I can convince Robin to be Data or something" Steve tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The image of Robin in the Data costume meant for Will makes you giggle and Steve is pulling you closer, chest brushing against your own.

"You'd give up our Grease costume for that?" you ask, knowing how excited he was to be Danny Zuko and wear his leather jacket.

"Yeah but don't tell them that. They'll get big heads" Steve grumbles, practically hearing Dustin tease him about how much he loves all of them. You giggle against him and Steve warms over, feeling those very words sitting heavy on his chest. If only he had the words to tell you. He knew you were waiting, wondering why he hadn't said them. If you only had time to understand why he struggled with it so much. Everyone he ever loved left, if he said these words outloud he couldn't risk you leaving him too.

"You're the best Stevie" you tell him, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. Steve hums in delight, not allowing you to back away as he pulls you to his lips and kisses you quickly. He knows you love him, you only said things like that to replace those very words. If he would just say it your response would have been 'I love you Stevie'. Instead he gets broad statements that he has slowly come to despise.

"Yeah, yeah, best babysitter ever" he mumbles and you giggle because even though he pretends to hate it you know how much he loves it. How much he loves those kids. If he didn't he wouldn't spend time with them. One of those very kids was his ex girlfriend’s brother and he never let any of those things stop him. He was always there for them.

"Only the best can handle six kids at a time" you tell him and Steve searches your eyes, loving how when you look at them they’re filled with adoration instead of hate. He knows not saying anything won't change your feelings and you will carry on loving him without it. He just couldn't bring himself to say it, the urge never there even though he was practically dying inside to tell you. He wished you knew how hard it is to say.

Sometimes when he finds himself even close he feels silly. I love you seemed too simple to portray the love he had for you. It was so basic, a word your heard on the radio over and over again. Every song as simple as the last. How unoriginal were his words when the radio repeats them every single day? Even with his love for Billy Joel he figures he'll never find a song to sing you. One that perfectly depicted exactly how he felt about you. He doesn't want to sing those tired words again, words he wasted on people who never loved him back.

“You ever think about having kids?” Steve asks, leaning back into the pillow and staring at his ceiling. You admire the soft tufts of his hair on his chest, the way his bicep flexes as he reaches to tuck his hand under his head. He’s so handsome and it should scare you that your boyfriend of only six months has suddenly asked you about having kids and yet you don’t seem to mind.

“All the time” you tell him earnestly, snuggling into his side and grazing your fingers along his sternum, grinning when he shivers from your touch.

“I want to have a whole bunch, make me feel better about being an only child” Steve says, his hand pressed to your back slowly sliding up and into your hair.

“What do you mean, make you feel better?” you ask, lifting your head to glance at the boys face as he continues to be deep in thought.

“I was a lonely kid, my parents never really cared to pay any attention and without any siblings or cousins I was left to my own devices. I think it’s half the reason I was such an asshole in high school” he says, almost wincing at the thought of how many people he had treated like shit over the years just to guarantee he wouldn’t be all alone.

“You were protecting yourself” you say, understanding exactly what he means and Steve nods, eyes glancing down at your form.

“I want my kids to have built in friends and even better, present parents” he tells you and suddenly you find yourself wanting nothing more than to have kids with the boy beside you.

“You’ll be the best Dad Steve, I just know it” you tell him and there are those words again, sitting on his tongue and begging to escape but he just can’t seem to let them go. He hates himself for it, looking away before you see the regret in his eyes.

“I hope so, I just wish my Grandpa was still around to see it” he says, thinking of the only person in his life who ever really liked him for him when he was growing up. The man who had heaven sent you straight to him when he needed you the most.

“He is, don’t you worry about that Stevie” you tell him, eyes fluttering close as you listen to cassette playing in the room. The boombox clicked, indicating the start of a new song. Worse Comes to Worst slowly filling the room.

“Oh worse comes to worst. I’ll get along” you start singing the melody into the dark night air, the fall breeze fluttering in from the window and brushing against the curtains.

“I don’t know how, but sometimes - I can be strong” Steve starts singing along with you and suddenly your both giggling into the night, sharing a love for one another and a love for Billy Joel. The very man that had brought you two together.

“Do you ever get sick of listening to him?” Steve asks and you know he’s asking you about Billy Joel. You shake your head softly against his chest, gazing into those hazel eyes.

“No, he reminds me of you. Makes me feel close to you no matter where I am. Yet I suppose that’s exactly how he makes you feel about your Grandpa” you say, voice humming along the boys ribs.

“Yeah but now he reminds me of you too” Steve admits and you smile before leaning up and capturing his lips in your own. When you had approached the sad boy in the record store you never would have imagined it would bring you here.

"I'm gonna try and sleep" you tell the boy, snuggling closer and allowing your heavy eyelids to close. Steve smiles softly and presses another kiss to your forehead. He knows life goes on and tonight will soon be gone. Another missed opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels. His wished he had the words to tell you but instead he only has his arms to hold you, pulling you closer into him. It's really all you can ask of any man, to be held with such love even if he won't say it.

"Goodnight Rosy" he mutters, 'I love you' he says in his head. He knows disappointment swells in your chest, having been by his side for six months and waiting to know exactly how he felt about you. The only noise in the dark room now is the voice of Billy Joel and your soft breathing. He pulls you close, relishing in the feeling of having you in his arms. When he’s sure you’re asleep he tells you.

"I love you Rosy, I really do. Just please don't give up on me, I promise I want to say it. You deserve to know just how much I adore you but every person I've ever loved has left me. I know you won't but I need time for my head to catch up with my heart. Until then, if I only had the words to tell you..."

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @notlilyyyy @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

229 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 7 months

Text

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks.

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones.

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her.

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look.

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk."

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?"

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything."

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden.

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane."

"It's annoying, right?"

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care.

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan.

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some."

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh.

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that.

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence.

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says.

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles.

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks.

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back.

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home.

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it.

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did.

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting.

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man.

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans.

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me.

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel."

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless.

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone.

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain.

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that?

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week.

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine.

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say.

"Are you sure?"

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans.

"Feisty."

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms.

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him.

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils.

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs.

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good."

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure.

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming.

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom.

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?"

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet.

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing.

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

208 notes · View notes

604to647 · 2 months

Text

Macarons

3.9K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim thinks you’re mad at him.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, soft!Tim, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), fluff and smut, oral (m receiving), titty fucking (don't look at me), unprotected PiV.

A/N: Another instalment of The Rockford Portfolio and this one is just silly, silly (until the smut😂); as always, can be read standalone. You guys know that TikTok couples trend where the user films their significant other's reaction when they try to leave the house without a kiss goodbye/saying "I love you"? Ok, Shutterbug tries it on Tim (and Tim does not have the TikTok) 🤭🤭.

Photography inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

You’re chuckling to yourself as you send goodnight messages to your friends. While Tim’s been getting ready for bed in the bathroom, you’ve been catching up on the memes and TikToks that have been sent since you last opened the chat. The latest ones all a variation of the same couples trend.

Hubby’s reaction when I try to leave without kissing him goodbye!

Pranking my boyfriend by not saying “I Love You” back.

Watch me confuse my golden retriever s/o.

The trend is mainly silly, the humour laying in the adorable confusion of partners who are clearly in love with their significant others. Even if most of these videos are likely staged, you find yourself smiling at them. Looking up to see Tim turning off the bathroom light, your heart skips a beat at how delicious your handsome boyfriend looks in his nighttime wifebeater and boxers combo; he’s giving you that lopsided, adoring smile that always makes your stomach flutter. Damn you love him.

[10:49 pm] Good night babes! Thanks for the laughs! I think I’m going to try this on Tim tomorrow.

[10:50 pm] Hahaha! Oh my god, tell us how it goes!

[10:50 pm] Good night! Yes, report back!

[10:51 pm] Oh yes please, I tried it on Andy and he was just like, ‘Did you hit your head?’ Hahaha! Good night!

[10:51 pm] Good night!! Love you, bbs!

“What are you smiling about, Shutterbug?” Tim grins up at you after he slides into bed and snuggles his head into your pillow, ignoring the perfectly matching and fluffy ones on his side of the bed.

Giggling, you set your alarm and put your phone away, “Just watched some funny TikToks that the girls sent.”

“I swear it’s like a secret language. Sometimes those chats of yours are just videos and pictures - no actual words,” chuckles Tim as you turn off your bedside lamp and slip down under your shared covers.

“It is! Like a friendship love language. You should get TikTok, Detective – then we could speak it too,” you give Tim a playful smile because you already know what his answer is going to be.

“Don’t need to, Shutterbug. You show me all the good ones anyways, and explain them to me if I don’t understand,” Tim presses a long and soft kiss to your lips, coaxing your mouth open so he can slowly lick in. An invitation.

It’s a given that you’ll accept. You gently roll the detective’s massive frame onto his back with your hand, the gentlest of nudges, before climbing on top of him. “It’s hard work, you know? Staying on top of all these memes and video trends,” you murmur, lips ghosting over Tim’s as your hips start to lightly grind down over his growing bulge, “Hard work should be rewarded.”

“Is that what you want, gorgeous? To be rewarded?” Tim smirks into your neck as he trails kisses down the column of your throat. You whimper in assent as his rough hands start to claw up your waist, thumbs drawing sweet circles on the underside of your breasts.

“Gotta use your words, Shutterbug,” teases Tim.

“Yes, please, Detective! Reward me,” you manage to breathe out before letting out a joyous squeal at the lightning speed with which Tim flips you over. Pinning you to the bed under his massive weight and kissing you hungrily, Detective Tim Rockford growls against your plush and pouty lips, “Going to reward you and then ruin you, baby,” turning your sweet giggles into moans.

The next morning, you have an early meeting that has you leaving for work earlier than usual. Tim is just getting out of the shower when you slip on your work shoes and call out, “Bye! Have a good day, Detective!”

Grabbing your jingling keys from the key bowl, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you hear the hurried strides of your boyfriend rushing out of the bathroom.

“Have a good day, Shutterbug. I love you,” Tim exhales as slows down and reaches the front foyer, glad to have caught you before you left.

You immediately regret turning around – this is going to be a lot harder than you thought; Tim is fresh from the shower with only a towel hung low on his hips, steam still rising off his hot body and residual drops of water dot his hard chest like diamonds. His wet hair is slicked back, making him look distinguished even in his nearly nude state. Forget not kissing him - how the hell are you supposed to keep from pouncing on him like a wildcat in heat?

Your best option has to be a quick escape; hand on the door handle you practically yell, “Okay, bye!”

“Wait!” Tim looks confused that you didn’t meet him halfway for a goodbye kiss as you normally would, but he smiles indulgently at your slightly frazzled behaviour. It’s early and you didn’t get much sleep last night, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Avoiding eye contact, you feign patting your pockets and looking in your purse, “No, I’m good! Thanks, babe!” You’ve almost got the handle pressed all the way down when you hear Tim’s voice closing in behind you, “Are you sure?”

Shoot.

You turn and put on a tight smile, trying not to look into the eyes of your stupidly dreamy boyfriend, but where can you look? Where can you look? Not that solid wall of muscle that’s close to caging you in, that’s for sure. You can’t even look at Tim’s jaw because that adorable patchy spot in the scruff on his left side always melts you into a puddle of goo. You say to his forehead, “Yeah, I’m sure, why?”

“Just seems like you might be forgetting a thing or two, gorgeous,” Tim smirks, but if you would meet them, you’d see that his eyes are starting to worry.

“I really should go, Tim,” you say with a sympathetic tilt of your head, “I can’t be late for this meeting.”

He has you trapped, your back pressed against the door, but Tim isn’t leaning in; he’s sure by now that you’re not kissing him on purpose, but he has no idea why. Not wanting to force anything upon you, he just waits – giving you some time in case you change your mind.

After about twenty seconds of silence, you nearly squeak, “Tim? I have to go to work.”

With a furrowed brow, Tim steps back to allow you to open the door for your getaway, “Okay, love you, Shutterbug.”

You nod as you slip out, “Okay! Talk to you later.”

Now Tim is straight up flabbergasted – he catches the front door before it closes and calls after your retreating figure, “Baby, I love you!”

You turn around and actually give him a thumbs up?! He’s about to leave the apartment half naked to come after you and ask what’s wrong when he sees you slide into the elevator right before the doors close.

What the hell was that?

---

In the elevator you exhale the ridiculously loud breath you’ve been holding and slump against the wall.

[7:38 am] Total fail, girls. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and Tim had no reaction at all!

---

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Tim absentmindedly taps his pencil against the edge of his desk, the repetitive noise echoing off his office walls and into the bullpen. It was a habit he picked up a long time ago, and everyone at the precinct knew that if they heard that sound coming out of Detective Rockford’s office, it meant something had him stumped.

Your odd behaviour this morning has been on Tim’s mind all day. He can’t for the life of him figure out why you didn’t want to kiss him goodbye. Other than being a little harried, nothing seemed out of the ordinary with your exit this morning – your words were sweet and cheerful, you didn’t seem stressed about your meeting. Was it his morning breath? No, he had just brushed his teeth. And even if it was your breath that prevented you from kissing him, it didn’t explain why you wouldn’t say “I love you.” Normally so generous with your adulation and words of affection, he’s finding the change in your manner this morning to so off putting he can barely concentrate on police work.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Had he done something? Surely you would have said; it wasn’t like you to play mind games. And even if he had, when would he have done it? The two of you had gone to sleep the night before perfectly content; Tim didn’t want to toot his own horn but you seemed more than sated after your three orgasms. To add to his confusion, you’ve been texting him all day long like you always do, like nothing was wrong at all.

Cheerful texts announce when you got out of your meetings, then a sad picture of the muffin you accidentally dropped on the ground, followed by one of the much better cookie you got to replace it. You send suggestions and ask him what he wants to have for dinner. The funny comic panel from Instagram that you screenshot for him makes him laugh out loud. Your messages say that you miss him and look forward to seeing him at home. Tim answers them all as normally as he can without showing his growing skepticism.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Detective Rockford’s impressive solve rate is no match for this particular mystery. What the hell was going on? Tim suddenly recalls something his former captain and mentor had said to him once: When you have conflicting pieces of intel, try to separate out the irrefutable.

Okay. The only reason that you would refuse to kiss him or say ‘I love you’ would be if you didn’t want to. And if you didn’t want to, it must be because you were unhappy with him. For something. It didn’t matter if you acted like nothing was wrong all day or he couldn’t figure out what he had done, it was irrefutable that he had made you unhappy.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

---

You get home a few hours before Tim and have most of dinner prepped before he’s due to arrive, so you decide to take a quick shower to wash off your work day. Wrapped in the fluffy hotel-grade bathrobe that Tim had in fact purchased for you from the hotel the two of you stayed at on your trip to New York, you pad back into the kitchen humming to yourself. You’re just thinking you’ll pop dinner in the oven when you’re surprised by your sweet boyfriend only just returned, gun holster still snug against his tight shoulders, waiting for you behind the kitchen island; big hands holding open the lid to a box of scrumptious looking macarons.

“Tim!” you exclaim, surprise and delighted, “You’re home early, baby! What’s this?”

He looks sheepishly at you, “They’re ‘I’m sorry’ macarons.”

You look at him confused, “What are you sorry for?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he practically howls, looking like he’s at the end of his rope.

You rush over and throw your arms around your hulk of a man and pull him close, running your hands over his broad back in what you hope is a soothing enough manner, “Tim, baby, tell me what’s going on.”

Tim’s face remains buried in your neck, inhaling the soft smell of your body wash as he sinks every part of himself that he can, his face, his hands, his chest into your soft cotton clad body, “I’m sorry, Shutterbug. I’m sorry for what I did to make you mad, and I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out what it was.”

Running a hand up to cradle Tim’s head, you’re so confused, but wait until his expansive body relaxes a bit against yours before pulling away a little so you can look at Tim’s distraught face, “Baby, I’m not mad at you.”

He studies the bewildered but sincere expression on your face and believes your confusion to be genuine, but that only adds to his own, “But you didn’t want to kiss me goodbye this morning, and you refused to say ‘I love you’ back.”

The sharp gasping sound you make is so startling it causes Tim to step back from you and he watches as your eyes widen in shock and your hands fly to cover your mouth in disbelief. Then just as quickly, you launch yourself at him and press a flurry of soft kisses all over his face, his mouth, his neck, “Baby! I’m the one who needs to be sorry!! It was just a silly TikTok trend! You didn’t do anything wrong and I’m not mad at you!! I’m so, so sorry you thought that!”

Tim comforts you with a gentle squeeze of your waist - you look beside yourself and ready to cry, but he still doesn’t understand, “TikTok trend?”

Grabbing your phone from the counter, you scroll to the videos in the chat you were watching last night and show them to him. When Tim’s done watching the fourth video, he looks back at you chewing your lip adorably, worried, “So you’re not mad at me? You just wanted to see what my reaction would be if you didn’t kiss me goodbye or say ‘I love you’ before you left?”

You look so small nodding up at him, “I’m sorry, Tim. I didn’t know you would take it so seriously. I actually thought it barely registered. I never dreamed it would bother you.”

Now it’s Tim’s turn to be reassuring; stroking your cheek with two of his thick fingers, he tilts his head and smiles, “The woman I love more than anything suddenly won’t say she loves me or kiss me and it’s not supposed to bother me?”

“Oh Tim!” You fly into his open arms, lips crashing into Tim’s with a force that nearly sends him tumbling backwards. Tim devours you with hunger and relief, so elated that rift he had imagined all day between the two of you turned out to be nonexistent. You chase your deep and passionate kisses with light butterfly ones that map the entirety of his jaw and neck, fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt franticly to clear the path to his chest for your worshipping mouth.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmur against his skin, making up for the times you held back these same words this morning.

“I love you too, Shutterbug,” Tim hums, hands roaming down your back; dipping low to grab and knead the plush globes of your ass.

Breaking away, you slip your hands under the firm leather straps of Tim’s holster and walk backwards, pulling him along with a shy smile, “Come, Detective. Let me make things up to you.” Tim would follow you anywhere, so happy to have you back, even though he never really lost you at all. He moves in a daze as you lead him over to the living room couch, directing him to sit before you sink down to your knees like a dream between his wide spread legs.

Quickly undoing Tim’s belt and pants, you look up at your handsome boyfriend with big doe eyes, pleading with him to give you what you want; unable to ever deny you even if he ever wanted to (which he never did), Tim lifts his hips slightly and helps you slide his pants and boxes down his thick thighs, his already semi-hard cock bouncing out and slapping against the buttons of his dress shirt.

You lick your lips at the sight of Tim’s beautiful, girthy cock, head already swollen and weeping for you. Reaching out to give him a few tentative strokes with your hand, you angle the tip towards your mouth and kitten lick Tim’s slit until his whole chest rumbles above you.

Smiling to yourself when you see Tim’s eyes close at your efforts, you lick several long fat stripes from balls to tip, following the ridges of the thick vein that run along the underside of Tim’s length before happily taking him in your warm mouth. At Tim’s low throaty moans, you slowly sink your face closer and closer to the grey peppered hair at his base, taking in more and more of Tim’s throbbing cock while stretching your lips as wide as they can in order to accommodate his impressive girth. Hands covering what still remains after your mouth is stuffed full, you start to bob your head rhythmically; spit leaks out of your overstuffed mouth and drips down Tim’s dick, making it shiny and easier for your small hands to pump. The slick, wet sounds of your mouth and hands working in tandem have you dripping in your robe, desperate pussy clenching around nothing.

“Baby,” Tim’s hands cup the side of your face and gently guide you so you come off of him with a pop. Not sure how it’s even possible, he gets even harder at the sight of your blow out eyes and messy mouth, hands still working him lazily as you gaze at him, already cock drunk. Tim’s other hand reaches forward to pull at the lapel of your robe, “Want to see them.”

Knowing what he wants, you gladly shrug open your bathrobe, letting the fabric loll off your shoulders and pull open the front so that your bare breasts spill out for Tim to ogle. Tim groans as he watches you wipe the drool from you face and spread it over your chest, rubbing your mess into your supple skin as you grope and play with your seductive curves.

“Do you want to fuck my tits, Detective Rockford?” you coo. Tim’s eyes snap open at your dirty offer, nodding eagerly, mouth agape.

Shuffling closer until you’re pressed up right against the couch, you reach for Tim’s cock, already standing at attention, practically saluting and ready to nestle in between your pillowy soft breasts. Dribbling a little more spit onto his dick, you use your hands to lube him up before gently placing him in the valley of your breasts. Once you have him where you want him, you flash Tim a sultry smile and use your hands to press your boobs together, squishing them so closely that the bulbous head of Tim’s cock nearly disappears.

“Oh baby, your tits are so pretty,” moans Tim, unable to peel his eyes away from your chest.

“Thank you, Tim,” you purr politely, starting to move yourself up and down, stroking him with every bounce. Keeping up a comfortable pace, you keep your eyes down, mesmerized by how hot Tim’s gorgeous dick looks sliding through the snug fitting opening between your tits – the very sight has you gushing.

“Fuckkkkk, that feels so good, baby,” he chokes out. Tim worships your breasts; normally unable to keep his hands off of them, he loves groping and manhandling your plush curves with his big, rough hands, and rolling and playing with your nipples until they’re hard and pointy. But watching you use your delicate hands to press and hold your tits together, up and out so that the tight and deep valley in between hugs his cock oh so perfectly is unlocking something new and feral within him.

“Let me fuck ‘em, please, gorgeous,” he practically growls; when your response is to stop your movements and slobber more spit down onto his cock before smiling back at him with a wide-eyed look of innocence, Tim’s hips start moving of their own accord, bucking wild and furious.

“Oh yes, Tim, fuck my tits just like that,” you whine; Tim is driving his cock up between your breasts with such vigor that your whole body is being jostled despite your best attempts to hold still for him. The top of your robe has long since fallen off your body, but the sash remains tied tight around your waist so that the lower hem remains floating over your thighs; the opening at the bottom starts to open of its own volition from all the movement and the luxurious piping in the hem catches on your clit so deliciously that you scream. You start to meet Tim’s every upwards thrust with a little downwards bounce so that you can rub against your robe, chasing after that mind-numbing friction; with your added efforts, Tim’s cock nearly hits your lips with every pass between your tits. Smiling to yourself, you tilt your head down so that the next time Tim pushes up, you press down and give his tip a little kiss.

Tim’s body shudders and he nearly loses his rhythm. You do this over and over, kissing his swollen head with the gentlest of pecks every time Tim’s cock breaches the tight cavern between your breasts and pokes out to meet your affectionate mouth.

Tim’s low baritone groans and huffs are getting huskier and faster, “Fuck baby, wanna finish inside you.”

“Yes, please, baby, need you in me,” you cry as you scramble off your knees and climb onto Tim’s lap. The debauched feeling of having Tim fuck your tits plus the heady sensation of rubbing your robe’s hem against your pussy has you so close already - you’re sopping wet and needy.

You sink down on Tim’s angry cock and slip your fingers under the shoulder straps of Tim’s gun holster as Tim immediately starts to punch up into you; holding on to the supple leather for dear life as he fucks you like his personal fuck doll, you throw you head back and wail how good he makes you feel. Your tits bounce in Tim’s face and he thinks about how they looked minutes ago wrapped around his cock and he’s ready to explode, “Gonna come, Shutterbug. Fuck, come with me, baby.”

Tim reaches down between your bodies and applies the perfect pressure against your slippery clit, barely completing one rotation of his rough thumb before you seize and clench down on him. Your loud cries of his name taper to a soft, desperate mewling as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high.

“Give me your cum, Detective,” you plead as you continue to pull against the leather straps that border his broad frame, “Fill me up, Tim.”

He shoots his load deep in your cunt at these words, willingly obeying your filthy command. Not only would Tim never deny you anything, he would readily do anything, give you anything your heart desired. Your happiness and well being are all that matter to him – he comes hard and with the assuredness of a man that knows his earlier concerns of having made you unhappy were completely unfounded. All is as it should be once again.

Coming down from your high, you release your death grip on Tim’s holster straps and wrap your arms loosely around his neck, smiling at him affectionately, “Am I forgiven, Detective?”

Even if he wasn’t still inside your warm cunt or your perfect tits weren’t sitting right below his chin close enough to lick, Tim’s answer would be the same, “There’s nothing to forgive, Shutterbug.”

Eyes soft and full of love, you hold Tim’s gaze as you affirm for him again, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Each declaration of your feelings is accompanied by a corresponding press of your lips to his. “I promise I’ll never do that to you again, Tim. I’m going to kiss you and tell you I love you until you’re sick of it.”

“Never going to happen, Shutterbug.”

---

Afterwards, when the two are you are enjoying the ‘I’m sorry’ macarons that you giddily photographed, swapping cookies between bites so you can each try every flavour, you chew thoughtfully, “You know, this whole thing could have been avoided if you’d just get TikTok.”

You’re only joking of course, but your jaw drops when Tim holds his phone out to you, “Okay, Shutterbug.”

Eyes widening, you’re in disbelief, “Really?”

Tim grins devilishly and retracts his hand, “No, not really. I don’t want to send you TikToks, baby. I rather like the love language we have already.” And with that he snatches the last bite of the lavender macaron from your fingers with his mouth and presses his lips to yours for the sweetest kiss you could ever ask for.

#I love macarons #tim rockford #tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

101 notes · View notes

omegalomania · 1 year

Text

face in my hands. listen to me. no just. just listen. like. i think on the whole fandom tends to heavily mythologize what certain songs are "about" despite this never being solidly confirmed to be the case and fob (pete in particular) generally try not to say without question What Songs Are About because they want people to take whatever meaning they can from it. but from now on we are enemies is one of the exceptions to this rule to a very limited extent and by that i mean that on two separate occasions, during the hiatus, patrick and pete shared a little bit of what the song was about on twitter, independent of one another.

if you haven't seen the film amadeus it's about a rivalry between two historical composers, wolfgang amadeus mozart and antonio salieri. salieri loathes mozart and finds him supremely childish and annoying...but also irritatingly brilliant beyond words. salieri obsesses over wanting to see mozart fail and even plans on killing him, but they do eventually form a friendship. then mozart gets sick and dies. salieri essentially breaks and loses his mind and years down the line will claim that he murdered him.

the name of the song, "from now on we are enemies," is a direct quote from the film. but it's not talking about mozart. it's a furious diatribe that salieri flings at god himself. he's so wildly and deliriously envious of mozart that he feels like this is divine punishment and so he declares god his mortal enemy for bestowing mozart with such brilliance. from now on we are enemies, you and i.

this is, i should note, one of the last songs fall out boy wrote before the hiatus. this and "alpha dog" were considered "new" for the believers never die greatest hits compendium, but alpha dog was technically debuted before folie released, on the welcome to the new administration mixtape. then fall out boy went on hiatus and there was no guarantee of return.

like i dont know what to say about this song that hasnt already been said. its fucking deranged as all get out ill tell you that much. its fucking unhinged that this song, this song with this central thesis statement, is one of the last songs you wrote together as a band before going your separate ways without any guarantee that you would reform again. and it's THIS. IT'S THIS SONG. a song that laments about whether anyone will remember you when you're gone (reminds me of flu game, reminds me of so much (for) stardust the title track, reminds me of .... so many of the themes inherent to their eighth studio album. actually.), and a song that practically lays out its inspiration for all to see. for a band that seldom if ever discloses with actual intent the Meaning behind their songs, this is a song that discusses a HIGHLY FRAUGHT ARTISTIC RELATIONSHIP and it's hard, it's real damn hard, to see anything but what is clearly all on display. composer but never composed (patrick has always considered himself a composer first and foremost). singing the symphonies of the overdosed (pete played a song that was named after the drug he tried to overdose on with his band mere nights earlier). i'm just a man on a balcony singing no one will ever remember me (again there's the fear and dread about the legacy you leave behind just before the band goes their separate ways).

can't fucking lay out the sheer psychological damage this does to my soul just thinking about this. they played MISS MISSING YOU the night before. just, you know, one of the other Songs that's so hard to disentangle from the hiatus because of the way it was written (patrick wrote the music while making soul punk, felt like it wasn't for him, and set it aside...despite there being, again, NO guarantee that the band would ever reform at this point, and then the song was only completed once fall out boy decided to come back, with joe and andy adding instrumentation and pete adding the lyrics) and whose music video features patrick and pete literally KILLING EACH OTHER. from now on we are enemies. i need to walk into the ocean. i need to lie down. im inconsolable.

#*making poasts #i need to be doing comic work but im just fucking FUMING instead. i cant get over this. im never getting over this.

604 notes · View notes

sosa2imagines · 3 months

Text

Broken Hearts. Part 15

Warning- Fluff.

Back at home, there was a mix of relief and concern. On the positive side, the situation with Peter looking like the killer had been resolved.

However, the potential danger of the weed-smoking men hired by the two most despised individuals in the world, loomed over your thoughts.

The ordeal had been far from pleasant, and the realization of the risks you'd encountered settled in.

Amidst the chaos, your phone buzzed with an unexpected text message from an unknown number.

“My doll, you were so brave. That tight slap was impressive. It turned me on.”

“Who's the new long-haired guy? Tell him to keep some distance, doll.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, drawing the attention of everyone back to you.

“Barnes texted me...” you announced, irritation laced in your voice. “And Ari? he hates you.”

Ari, unfazed by the revelation, responded with a sly smirk. “Feeling is mutual.” he said, maintaining his cool demeanor.

“How did Barnes know you were there? That place is hardly a famous spot.” Nick inquired, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Wait,” Jake interjected, pausing his work on his laptop for a moment. “What were the names of the people who hired you guys?”

“Sarah Wilson. She contacted us.”

Jake quickly typed her name into his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Within seconds, a series of missing puzzle pieces began to fall into place.

Jake continued his search and suddenly exclaimed, “Sarah Wilson, sister of Sam Wilson, friend of...” Before he could continue, you and Lloyd chimed in unison, “Steve and Bucky.”

Lloyd's face contorted with anger as he almost exploded with fury. “Those fuckers!” he erupted, his voice dripping with rage.

You expressed your surprise, “Wait, I didn't know Sam had a sister.”

Jake provided the explanation, stating, “That's because she was in Florida before moving to Knockemstiff. And I'm guessing Sam never told you guys much about her.”

You acknowledged his words with a nod, while Lloyd ran his hand over his face in frustration.

“So, Sam must have told them?” Ari speculated.

Lloyd chimed in, a cocky smile on his face as he added, “I prefer them twelve feet down.”

Jake rolled his eyes, amused by their banter. Turning your attention towards him, you asked, “What?”

Jake shrugged in response and responded, “You don't have to work with these two crazy goofs all day. They were about ready to burn this town down for you.”

You smiled apologetically at him, and he returned the expression.

You sat quietly by the window, letting the men do their job. Too much testosterones were giving you a headache, looking at your old and new friends.

Over time, you and Ari had developed a solid friendship. Ari even opened up to you, revealing that he is bisexual and had developed a crush on Lee, not you.

Meanwhile, poor Lloyd remained oblivious to Ari's feelings, and Ari seemed in no hurry to clear up the misunderstanding. Enjoying the teasing, Ari continued to rile up Lloyd while keeping the promise made to Lee a closely guarded secret between you and him.

Jake, the sweetest of the bunch, was truly a gem. He shared your love for food, making him like Peter in that aspect. In the online realm, he was unbeatable, a feat no one could top. He had a cute girlfriend, and you could chat with him for hours, discussing everything from silly to profound topics.

Andy, oh how you wished Steve could be as loyal as him. This guy had gone through countless ups and downs, but he never complained. You, Nick, and Lloyd always prioritized making sure Andy had the time of his life. Andy often treated you like a kid, and he was truly a blessing in your life.

Nick, the handsome star, was known for his womanizing ways. However, he was fiercely loyal to his friends and always had their backs. Despite his intimidating demeanor, your nights out with him were undoubtedly the highlight of your life.

Some might naysay that Nick couldn't be trusted, but the truth was that he loved his friends, particularly you, more than his job or even his own life. And he wasn't afraid to show it to the world, something Steve could undoubtedly learn from.

The time you had spent together had drawn you all closer, and you were thankful to every deity out there for that.

However, nothing could compare to how close you had grown to Lloyd. To some, your relationship might appear rushed, a result of weak moments, but the truth was that you and Lloyd were made for each other.

Despite what others might think, nothing was rushed between you and Lloyd. You went with the flow, allowing your connection to develop naturally. Who knew that back in high school, Lloyd had already held feelings for you?

Even you secretly harbored a crush on him but life took you on separate paths, chasing careers and personal growth. Yet fate, in its mysterious ways, brought you all back together once more.

You couldn't help but compare Steve to Nick and Andy, but when it came to Lloyd, there was no comparison. You sometimes wished you had never married Steve, that it had been Lloyd instead. The thought lingered in your mind, filled with lingering regrets and what-ifs.

While it was true that you had to experience heartbreak and betrayal to be with Lloyd, those challenges served as stepping stones towards your current happiness.

Months, maybe even a year, had passed since Steve had shown you any kind of attention, and his betrayal still weighed heavily on your heart.

However, with Lloyd, you had found solace, and your ex-partners no longer shadowed your heart or mind.

Lloyd's approach to your relationship was vastly different from Steve's. He moved slowly and deliberately, not rushing the process to get it over with. Instead, he took time, being patient and gentle as he carefully stitched your broken and shattered heart back together, piece by piece.

The content smile on your face spoke volumes about your gratitude for him and the rest of your supportive friends.

Lloyd smiled as he sat down beside you.

“What are you thinking about, Sugar?” he asked, to which you replied, “You.”

Lloyd's smile widened at your response. “I'm also grateful for the boys,” you said gratefully.

“You and Ari seem to be close,” Lloyd said, jerking his brow in a playful manner. “Jealous?” you smirked, and Lloyd scoffed in response.

“Lloydy bear,” you teased, “if anything, we have become good friends, nothing else.”

”I like it. How about you scream that name when…”

“Don't jinx it,” you quickly cut in, not letting him finish his sentence. “So far, things have been great, and I hope they continue to be.”

Lloyd chuckled at your quick response, his expression softening.

“I know, I know,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I trust you, you know that, right?”

“I know.” You smile proudly.

Lloyd chuckled at your statement, his tone playful yet protective. “I swear I will literally kill anyone who disturbs us!” he said with conviction, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

You laughed softly, pecking him on the lips. “I can turn off my phone...” you suggested, “what about you?”

Lloyd shook his head adamantly. “No phones, nothing!” he declared. “No one is more important than you and me.” He hugged you tighter, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a flirtatious manner.

“Not so fast...” you began, “I want to go out first.”

Lloyd looked at you with a mix of curiosity and eagerness. “As in date?” he asked.

“Yes!” you confirmed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Fine, be ready by 7:30, the driver will pick you up.” Lloyd replied, a hint of determination in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow slightly, challenging him. “Why can't you pick me up?” you asked, a playful smirk on your face.

Lloyd chuckled at your remark, his eyes glinting with confidence. “I know you can't resist me,” he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “But trust me, it will be worth it.” he continued, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

With that, he left to prepare for the upcoming date, eager to make it the best night of your life.

Your happiness filled the air as you rushed to your room, your excitement akin to that of a teenage girl.

The date on the terrace had left you breathless, and the anticipation for the upcoming one grew with each passing moment. You couldn't imagine how magical the evening would be, but you knew that Lloyd had something extraordinary planned.

Part 14- Part 16

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah

68 notes · View notes

apt502-if · 10 months

Note

Hi :>

Would you mind sharing a bit more about rainn and andi's friendship? Like, I think you've mentioned that they are childhood friends, did their parents know each other? Or did they go to the same school? Do they talk with each other daily?

Thank you!! Also I'm sorry if these are a lot of questions, I'm just so excited for more of your story and characters, but don't feel pressured or rushed to answer!! Take care ♥️

Hi! :}

They are childhood friends. Their parents knew each other since they were in the same class and they became best friends very quickly. Their parents are family friends but they don't talk as much anymore but Andi and Rainn talk almost every day. There are times where they go no contact only because of how busy they are but no matter how long they haven't spoken once they do it's like no time has gone by. The longest silence they've gotten from each other is about a month and that's because Andi would travel to places with bad reception. Andi and Rainn have gone beyond friends and are family at this point.

& no need to worry :>>> I love these questions!

#mail #about: rainn #about: andi

157 notes · View notes

enden-agolor · 21 hours

Note

you CANNOT just post that and not tell us the back story

Oh boy okay here we go

randy x andy lore 🙈

I'll just post the context of the comic with a bit of lore and backstory.

So I already stated that Andy and I have been friends since 6th grade. I think that's about 16 years of knowing each other now? Well, friendship was kind of a struggle for me because of uh.. my home situation. The thought of having people over was very frightening and embarrassing, but Andy never really judged me or let any of that stuff get in the way of us being friends, but regardless, I almost always spent the night at his place whenever we would hang out. I'd walk about three miles to his place almost every weekend because he was only a few neighborhoods away. Anyways, so we had a lot of sleepovers and most of the time I would sleep on the floor in his room which like. Cool. Not gay. Whatever.

Well. I recall a discussion we had when we were about 13 (I think this was in 2010 or 2011) on facebook where we were just talking about personal stuff and I confessed I'd never really experienced any positive physical affection before? Nothing of note came out of that conversation, but apparently Andy remembered that.

Next time I went to his place for a sleepover, it felt no different than any other time we'd hang out. Playing video games or watching youtube or just hanging out outside. Well come bed time I remember going with him to his room and.. In a random change of events, he told me to get in the bed. I remember being hella confused and hesitant but I did and ended up just laying there awkwardly, him kinda laughing and telling me to turn around and scoot over, again my dumbass was really awkward about it. He shut off the light and crawled into bed after me and without saying ANYTHING just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. It's been well over a decade since this happened and I still remember the shock and confusion. I remember full body trembling and tensing and trying to control it because I just did not know how to react. And he'd asked if I was okay and I just responded with a stuttered "yeah." He ends up falling asleep like that and when I tell you I stayed up all night staring at the wall next to me and just. Experiencing that feeling of being held for the first time it was extraordinary.

It became a constant need after that but because I was afraid of being gay and uh. Also am just very shy in general. I would never ask for it and would instead just hope it would happen again which.. it did. And then my emotions kinda spiraled and it was very easy to fall for him.

But yeah Andy made me gay and I never dated anyone else before because I saved myself for him for many years after that happened. Just constantly cuddling as friends. I seriously can't ever imagine being with anyone else. He is kind of cool idk

#ask #i love telling this story #it makes me very happy to recall this memory #this is what chat said was jesskas coded #and its funny that people compared it to the better together fic because this experience definitely inspired some of that

46 notes · View notes

fat-oc-battle · 2 months

Text

MATCH FOUR, QUARTERFINALS

umi the mermaid (she) character & art by @dusty-art

Umi is a mermaid who leads a carefree life in search of fun on sea and on land. She likes land a teensy weensy bit more than other mermaids and is a terrible singer. Yes she talks in fish puns but it's cute when she does it. She does not understand why humans put salt on fish and make it taste way worse.

Some hundred years or so ago she met a fisherman, and they formed a partnership and traveled the world together. It was cut short when he tragically died in a shipwreck... but that was a long time ago. Now, Umi continues to surround herself with people who love her very much!

As a magical being, Umi can trade her fish tail for legs and vice versa at will. She is also a competent healer, but doesn't use her magic for much else.

VS.

andy star (he, serial rocker) character & art by @lockandkeyhyena

cw - murder. no detail but it is his nightly occupation

famous rockstar by day, sadistic serial killer by night

50, he/him, draft horse, cis, gay

self-obsessed and self-assured, andy star craves the spotlight and attention from his hordes of admirers. he performs less for the sake of the craft and more for the fame and adoration it brings him. by night he kills for the thrill and rush of it, the admiration of his fans still not enough to sate his thrill-seeking. the attention his killings get in the news and from the true crime community doesn’t hurt either.

he believes he deserves to get anything he wants and that he’s earned the right go do whatever he wants because he’s famous and beloved. the type of guy to go ‘do you know who i am?’. he values being adored and loved over anything else, even other things he cares about, like his friendships.

andy's toyhou.se

#oc bracket #oc tournament #serial rocker

42 notes · View notes

bonesandthebees · 6 months

Note

It's fine I perservere through everything bc I am just that cool

Also yeah, wtf has happened since I've been gone??? Like? Last I new was the Wilbur stuff and know there's talk of the French Union threatening to sue Quackity (I think? I'm a little confused on the whole thing)

oh god sammie you have missed. so much.

um. ok. nutshell summary. this is gonna be long. (tw: talks about more abuse and SA allegations being brought against other ccs)

other mcyt cc allegations after wilbur:

you know what happened with wilbur. after all the support shelby received, another streamer caitibugzz (another brighton cc) came forward with her own story about being sexually assaulted by a cc at vidcon while she was 18 and he was 26. she didn't name him but like with wilbur it didn't take long for people to figure out she was talking about georgenotfound. anyway, uh, that spiraled into a thing. george said a lot of shit, dream involved himself way too much, it was a mess.

immediately after that, punz's ex girlfriend, andi, came forward and discussed how toxic their relationship was and detailed a time they had sex while she was blackout drunk, which is SA. punz did respond insisting he didn't realize how drunk she was, it turned into a whole thing, andi's response basically boiled down to read both sides of the story and form your own opinion.

also then punz jumped in on whatever the hell was going on with dream and george with george's own allegations and discussed how in his entire friendship with dream he's felt very intimidated to speak out against him and often thought of him as a boss more than a friend. along with that he also brought up a point regarding his ex girlfriend andi, but I'm not going to go into too much detail on that because I don't believe andi wanted all that information to be made public and punz later deleted the posts.

at the same time another thing happened. another cc in the brighton group, lexie marie, had spoken out multiple times about how her ex was emotionally abusive to her and the day before wilbur posted his 'apology', she and shelby even did a whole stream together discussing abuse and their experiences. anyway, lexie's abuser was publicly named as wisp, so yeah he responded with an 'apology' of his own.

NOW AS FOR QSMP:

like a week or two after wilbur's 'apology' was posted, a former admin of one of the qsmp updates accounts came forward on twitter and discussed the terrible working conditions she and all the other admins have been having to deal with working for quackity studios. we learned that the updates accounts and the egg admins were unpaid, and were often pushed to pulling more hours or doing extra work they shouldn't have. this blew up in the community and quackity ended up doing a stream to say he basically has to do an entire restructure of the server because the finances for the server were being severely mishandled and he was under the impression most of these people were getting paid when they were not. (also, during this stream quackity made a quick aside to say that wilbur was going to be removed from the qsmp)

since then, more admins have left the team (agent 18, ramón's current admin) saying they haven't received communication and aren't sure what's going on.

one of the issues the initial whistleblower brought up was that pomme's admin had just recently been removed from the whitelist for the server and kicked from the discord server without being given much of an explanation. the french cc's all collectively said if pomme was not given back her role they would not continue on the server. today pomme's admin revealed herself and made a post saying she still hasn't received any communication with the team and is quitting entirely. dapper's admin resigned in solidarity with her.

then today quackity did another stream discussing how things are taking time because they have to work out a lot of internal legal issues and because it's legal stuff he can't give that many updates. he's also been hesitant to update people because he doesn't want to make false promises, as right now the qsmp does not have enough money to pay the egg admins and they won't return unless he finds funds for that because he's ending all unpaid positions. also, as people have left the project, some have been posting private screenshots from the qsmp discord or from communications with the qsmp team and quackity has said these leaks have been causing issues with the legal stuff they're dealing with, and also what's going on has been misconstrued as a result of these leaks, so that's another reason he's been keeping quiet about things. but he's determined to work this all out and to keep the qsmp going, but he completely understands if people don't want to stick with the project or if people who have worked with it wish to leave.

as far as the union goes, the initial whistleblower was a french admin for the updates account and so when she left the studio she contacted a french union about the unfair working conditions. the union has posted on twitter calling out quackity studios saying they're in violation of french labor laws and that if quackity refuses to communicate with them they will pursue legal action. except today we also learned from one of the union guys on twitter that they have not attempted to email him at all. they made their posts on twitter and said it's quackity's responsible to contact them. for the record, quackity deleted twitter a while ago so he's not on that platform right now. as you can see this raised some eyebrows.

so uh yeah. I'm missing a lot of details I know but I was trying to give as much of a summary as I could hitting all the major points. you have missed literally the most insane past few weeks.

#ask #sammiekel

78 notes · View notes

englishstrawbie · 4 months

Text

Station 19 7x09

Now that was one hell of an episode! Forgive me, this might get long.

Carina DeLuca, I was a little mad that you tried to ruin another sexy moment with baby talk but then you did that little lick before you kissed Maya's abs, so all is forgiven. 🔥 Also Carina describing Maya as her "hot, hot, hot wife" when the episode gave us that ending felt intentional and mean.

The mutual "I love you", the nose rub, the kiss... I love these sweet moments between them. And then there was the "I'll see you at home", which said just as much, like they were willing it to be true because they both know that the wildfires are going to be a hard fight. Especially after Carina had just been treating a patient whose husband was lost in the woods.

"What if this is it? What if I never see him again?" ... we all know where Carina's mind went at that moment.

"I'm sure he's doing whatever he can to find his way back to you" ... oh, I hope she hangs on to these words when she finds out about Maya. (Assuming she does...? It seems to me like they need to get Maya out of that fire pretty damn quick, before Carina even has chance to find out.)

"Monogamy is for the weak" ... "Or the very very dedicated, that's what I said - and that's who I am now" ... THANK YOU for remembering the whole line. It drives me crazy when people only quote the first part, when the second part of it says a whole lot more about who Maya was then and who she is now. That said, I have mixed feelings about the idea of her offering to get pregnant if Carina can't - because the whole point of pushing the IVF at the same time as adopting Liam is because it's Carina's dream to carry a child and experience childbirth. Still, it says a lot about how much she's changed that she's even willing to think about doing it.

THE ENDING. I expect it's been said enough already but HOLY SH*T. What a way to end the episode, to set up Carina for joy and heartbreak at the same time. Stefania's acting was on point in that moment, the little "no" of disbelief when Helm told her she was pregnant and her "why, do you think it's Maya's?" joke. Contrasted against Maya's absolute panic as the flames surrounded her (even if the special effects of the fire were a little distracting). I don't actually believe it will end in heartbreak, I very much believe that Maya and Carina will get their happy ever after with lots of babies. If anything, I suspect we may see Maya question her job with the fire service again as it feels like it's been leading to that - and I'm still not keen on that idea, but (as someone else pointed out to me) if that's her decision, at least she makes it on her own terms.

Although, at this rate, Andy is going to be left with a team at 19 made up of her ex-husband and Beckett. 👀

I loved all the Maya and Andy scenes we got, I'm glad their friendship has been more prominent this season. I love hearing them both say how proud they are of each other.

Maya Kathleen? Didn't they mean Maya Katherine, after her mom?

All the throwbacks to previous episodes and scenes were great and I hope that continues into the next episode. Dibs on the puppy. Hughie. The five OGs on top of the fire truck was such a wonderful scene, watching them all get into the same position as the last time we saw them there. It made me sad that Dean and Jack weren't there.

"We're 19 - family forever" ... ❤️❤️

I hope Theo getting hurt doesn't interfere with Vic's plans to move to DC with Crisis One. It's where she belongs. I love the idea of Travis going with her, although he has good chemistry with the new guy whose name I don't remember.

This was an A+ episode for me and I really really hope next week's finale lives up to the same hype.

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #my rambles

48 notes · View notes

whateverisbeautiful · 8 months

Text

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#23: Glad To See You (S4E01)

Platonic where? 😋 I love this lovely scene that lets us know Rick and Michonne had fully won each other over during the time jump between s3 and s4. This scene arrives after several couples are spotlighted in the ep - Which is no coincidence. It also arrives directly after the sweet 'whole new plant' scene with our beloved Hershel - Which is no coincidence. Michonne even whistles to get your attention with it. Richonne and the family they form together are Rick and Michonne’s whole new plant...

I love that as the queen arrives on her horse it’s Rick and Carl who rush to let her in. Like Rick hears her coming and eagerly stands up (with a subtle smile I do believe) and immediately looks over to Carl, who is ready to run over, because they know they’ve both grown really fond of our girl Michonne.

The way Rick and Carl hustle over to her with smiles on their faces will forever melt my heart. And as if their whole body language didn’t make it clear they were happy she’s back, the first thing Rick sweetly tells Michonne is, “We’re glad to see you.” I love how much Rick and Carl like her and can’t hide it.

It's funny too because I always thought it was both Rick and Carl donning big smiles when they run to her, but watching it back, Carl is actually way more subtle in his expression than Rick lol. Gotta love that extra man. 😋

It’s sweet the way Michonne says, “Glad to see you too.” Rick and Michonne are both just the cutest, and they already look like they go together. Every scene they have reminds you that they are meant to be each other's person.

I love that Michonne got Carl that comic, and he’s so excited about it. And she's clearly so happy to have put a smile on his face. Their friendship is everything. And Carl's sincere little thank you. She brings out such a sweet side of him.

I adore that Michonne's personality is coming out more with her boys and Rick gets to witness her bond with his son here. Through Carl, Michonne began to be a mom again and I just so appreciate that.

And Michonne saying, "I get to read them when you’re done" - it's pretty much canon that she and her kids love books together and it’s adorable. 😊

Then it's so sweet Michonne's playful teasing of Rick with the razor and saying his face is losing the war. Sis told on herself a little bit, thinking about his face while out on her run. But I mean again, who can blame her?

And it's interesting that the show highlights her getting gifts for Carl and Rick specifically, showing how they're who she's grown closest to and who she thinks about while she's out. Even while somewhat still in her lone wolf era, they were already becoming family. 🥹

I like how getting gifts for both of them helps suggest that Michonne's not just on the fast track to becoming Carl's future mom, but also Rick's future wife. She's growing an undeniable bond with both of them.

I think it’s cute how Rick takes the razor and ponders what it all means, and then Michonne brings some playfulness when teasing him and smiling. She likes him, y’all. 😊 And Rick needs this kind of levity in his life. It's great how before Rick and Michonne loved each other, they really really liked each other as people and it didn't take long for them to realize that.

Also, one of the many things I so adore about how Andy and Danai play their characters is that they never play them one-dimensional. Instead of just coming across as typical 'strong and stoic survivors,' they instead add such compelling layers to their characters.

Rick isn't just tough, he's also capable of being truly warm and affectionate. Michonne isn't just a warrior, she's capable of being genuinely warm, affectionate, and playful too. 👌🏽

So Rick gives a little laugh when she teases him, and then he’s quiet for a bit. And watching this back, I'm tickled because he’s definitely a little nervous around her. 😊 This is Richonne's crush era after all, and so he seems to be feeling a lot inside perhaps.

And then he steps closer to her and asks if she’s going to stay a little while, which is something Rick always wants - Michonne to stay with him awhile. And I like that he can’t help but make it clear he wants her around.

I'm telling you, they’re so adorable in every frame of the scene, and their body language is giving ‘this won’t be platonic for long’ lol.

Michonne answers, “Just a little while,” and Rick nods cuz more time around her is always music to his ears.

Then Daryl arrives, and y’all, this part of the scene will always be curious to me.

Cuz they have Daryl say glad to see Michonne in one piece and look right over at Rick, almost like he’s especially speaking for Rick (who we already know is particularly glad to see her from their moment just seconds before). And then Rick looks from Daryl over to Michonne like he wants Daryl to be more subtle or something lol. Which had me like...

Rick has that little frustrated reaction when Michonne says she’s going to look over near Macon, and Michonne seems to notice Rick’s reaction cuz she then emphasizes, "it’s worth a shot."

It’s interesting how Rick isn’t very talkative at this moment, but his face is giving away that he clearly has thoughts and doesn't want her to go lol. But he knows Michonne can do what she wants, even if he most wants her here safe.

Rick says he’s going to stay at the prison when Daryl says he’s going on a run, and then Michonne quickly volunteers to go. And y'all, again...

Cuz idk, it almost reads like knowing Rick was staying makes Michonne quickly volunteer to go since she can’t let herself get too close to him yet - cuz the sparks be sparking when they’re together and right now that's a bit too vulnerable after her traumas from the last time she let people in close. I mean, I'm just saying.

And Carl is quick to remind Michonne that she just got here, which is super cute. It's clear that, like his dad, Carl really wants her around and fully a part of the family. But we’re not there yet in their journey, so Michonne just smiles and says she’ll be back and then walks away. My heart is always so warmed to see her presence so wanted by her boys.

Rick watches her go, of course, and then Daryl pats him in a seemingly sympathetic way before Rick goes to help them head out. And, y’all, I stand by it…Daryl knew something. 😋

I might not know what exactly, but brother Daryl knew early that something was stirring between Rick and Michonne and that she was special to Rick somehow.

I've noticed how several characters seemed to be picking up on something between Rick and Michonne even before Rick and Michonne became fully aware of their feelings - Carl in s3’s Clear, Daryl in this s4 premiere, Sasha in s5 when she tells Michonne “it worked out for you,” Deanna clocked Richonne real early, and even Abe in s6 wondered if Rick and Michonne had been intimate for awhile. Lol by the time Rick and Michonne made their romance official, you know team family was just like…

Season 4 is a big one in the making of Richonne, and Rick and Michonne's first scene together in season 4 effectively planted more seeds toward how much their relationship would blossom as this season progressed.

Establishing Rick, Michonne, and Carl’s dynamic and heightened fondness for each other in the season 4 premiere was a great way to set up how they would soon become family in the fullest sense by the end of the season.

Like to go from this scene at the prison to traveling as a trio in 4b and having such familial moments in the s4 finale is perfection. Rick and Michonne's fondness for each other only strengthened, and they became an undeniable family unit that managed to carve out some genuine happiness even wandering the woods with no home base. This truly is the season when Rick and Michonne start to become home to each other.

And I love that from the premiere to the finale of season four, these two only grew closer and closer and more and more glad to see each other. 😌

#richonne #top 30 #number 23 #rick x michonne #twd 4.01 #reveling in richonne #twd towl #the ones who live

86 notes · View notes

lambsouvlaki · 1 year

Text

For the Hell of It - Mine

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: T, they're naked but not up to anything.

Word count: 1,333

Summary: A quiet conversation in bed, after Jason and her spend the night together for the first time.

Masterlist

They lay naked and sprawled around each other on Jason’s bed. The sweat on their skin had cooled and the soft sheets were tangled haphazardly.

He felt more relaxed than he had been in years.

He lay crossways from Andy, while she sat against the headboard, dyed a soft gold in the half-light of the table lamp. His head rested on one of her thighs while the other leg was carelessly slung across his chest, bent at the knee. He draped an arm over the calf in front of him, enjoying the softness of her skin. She played with his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and drawing contented little hums from him.

She kept threatening to go shower but had made no move to leave. Good. He had no desire to let her go, or any intention of moving at all within the next twelve hours.

He had been so afraid if he made a move it would all be ruined. Their friendship tarnished with the awkwardness of a boundary clumsily stumbled over with no way back.

Yet here she was, hair mussed and body languid in his bed, leisurely inspecting the book on his bedside table.

He had never been inclined to half measures. In for a penny.

“Be mine,” he said.

She looked up from Scalzi’s Old Man’s War. “Okay.”

He had expected demurring. Hesitation. Rejection’s kinder faces.

“Only mine,” he said, wary. He’d had his flings. Rose showed up every now again for a good time. But just about everyone he’d ever been with had been with Dick first, and usually again after. He didn’t want that this time.

She put the book down and looked at him with slight consternation.

“Jason, I’ve been yours alone for a while now.”

His eyebrows rose.

She scoffed. “And here I was worried I was pathetically obvious and you were just being gracious.”

“...I didn’t want to assume.”

She smiled at him. Then she blinked and spoke quickly, “Not that I was just hanging out to get laid. Your friendship means the world to me, if this doesn’t work out I am still going to care about you.”

“I know that.” He idly rubbed her leg, massaging her thigh. He’d had dreams about these legs. He always woke up feeling like he’d crossed a line. “But you said you weren’t interested in anything. With anyone.”

“Sure, two years ago. What about you? I thought you didn’t want anything either.”

He shrugged. “It was easy to say that before what I wanted was right in front of me.” He tilted his head, looking up at the ceiling. “When we met, I didn’t have a civilian life. Jason Todd existed only in the sense that Red Hood had to sleep sometimes.”

The hand in his hair curled gently against his scalp. “And now?”

“I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

“So what do you want? From me?”

He looked sideways, eyes tracing up her leg, over a thatch of curls he was now on good terms with, and up her naked chest to her face. He quirked an eyebrow.

She hit him with a pillow.

He laughed.

“Besides that,” she groused, pulling the pillow back and tucking it behind her. “We spend so much time together that my friends are convinced we’ve been banging all year anyway.”

“...Are they?”

“I, uh, may have shot down Chelsea with more vehemence than necessary when she asked for your number.”

He grinned. “Jealous already, sweets?”

“I wasn’t jealous. I was… invested.”

“Sure. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She sighed and slouched some more. She looked so good, relaxed like this, so unaffected. He spent too much time around hyper-competent, over-trained paranoid maniacs who couldn’t relax if their life counted on it. He counted among them. The only reason she hadn’t complained about the gun strapped to the headboard that had to be digging into her back was because she was wonderful.

“I swear I didn’t mean to give her the impression we were dating. I got waspish and she drew her own conclusions.”

Guilt twinged in his chest. He rubbed circles into her skin with his thumb.

“You remember that guy who used to be in your study group? Scraggly ginger beard, shared a history paper?”

She tilted her head in thought for a second. “Ed.”

“He liked to talk about all the things he wanted to do to you when it was just guys in the room.”

“Oh.” she scowled. “Gross.”

She didn’t need to know the graphic fantasies he described, or the black rage Jason felt at the knowing little smirks shared with the other men she hung out with. People who called themselves her friends.

“I chased him off. Gave him the impression you and I were something more than we were.”

The hand in his hair stopped moving. “Did you just?”

“He was a dog. No respect for any woman.”

“Ah. But he respected the threat of an angry boyfriend?”

“Pretty much,” he admitted.

“High-handed of you,” she commented. “When I stop feeling all warm inside I’m probably going to be annoyed about that.”

He kissed her knee. “Sorry I told a creep that if he ever talks about my girl like that again I’ll break his jaw.”

“I–No you’re not,” she said, a hand over her mouth to ineffectually hide a smile.

“Na, I’m not. I meant it then and I mean it now. Are you gonna keep pretending you don’t like it when I’m possessive?”

“Hm. Probably too late to make it convincing.”

“Much too late.” He’d been made emphatically, delightfully, aware of how much she liked it when he called her his less than an hour ago.

He twisted and climbed up her body, resting between her legs. She grazed her hands down his sides as he dragged himself up to her head. Her skin pressed against his felt so good and warm. It wasn’t errotic, but it was profoundly intimate. He looked up into her eyes.

“My girlfriend doesn’t have to fend for herself. I won’t tell you what to do, but I get to tell fuckheads to look elsewhere or have their eyes removed. That’s what I want. Let me take care of you the best I can.”

She breathed a light, “oh.” She traced his scarred eyebrow. “Okay.”

He leaned up and kissed her.

It felt so natural. He liked doing that very much.

She pulled back a moment later, and looked him square in the eye. “I want you to give my number to whoever you go to for your emergency, middle of the night surgeries.”

He cocked his head. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“And if you can’t? This has been eating me since I found out you’re Red Hood. If anything happened to you, how would I know? Would I ever know?” She blinked quickly, a sudden influx of emotion in her eyes he hadn’t been expecting. “I can’t protect you. You don’t need my protection. That doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

He rested his forehead on hers.

It was against Bat protocol. It put a huge amount of faith in her and demanded trust from him that left him feeling exposed and aching in a number of directions.

He’d already made his decision.

“Leslie Thompkins. The clinic in the Alley. I’ll have you added as an emergency contact. And Alfred already has your details, I’ll tell him you’re the first call when I’m seriously injured.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

He kissed her again.

“Okay,” she said, when they parted.

“Okay.”

He slid his head into the crook of her neck. Her arms hung loosely over his back and he wormed his around her waist, between her and the headboard. His eyes closed.

“I’m gonna go have a shower,” she said, letting her head roll backwards.

“Sure you are,” he said, not moving. “Off you go.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh.”

They fell asleep together soon after.

Next>>

#Jason loves with his whole heart #he doesn't know how to be any other way #pillow talk #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #dc #for the hell of it #fluff

256 notes · View notes