#anymore just wanted to rant a lil

[arinmoss]

women and femmes is like. what the fuck r u talking about lol.

like ppl will be talking about shit that effects me but postulate it as something that effects only women and femmes, two things i am not lolol

[pollyna]

I just hope this fucking month will be done soon because I can't anymore with it. It felt like fifteen months long instead of the normal 31 days long.

[aria0fgold]

I got waaaay too attached to my farmer in Stardew Valley that I can't play a new save without them and I also didn't want to just create the same character (It'll confuse me...) but I really wanna try out the meadowlands farm. So instead, I decided to create a storyline in which my dear farmer dies, reincarnates, and proceeds to dye and style their hair in the same way it was in the past life.

[todayisafridaynight]

grabbing the ichi plush by the neck and death gripping it like 'good things are to come its all going to be ok good things are to come' like its a lucky amulet

[piercethewon]

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[theantiproduct]

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[hsjxishbeoelwj]

tw: vent post, long long rant/vent post lmao sorry :3 im going through it fr fr!!!! 😜 (this is kinda cringe ngl, lol)

god, please let my sister still feel safe and comfortable around me even when I don't deserve it. She deserves so much more than me and my shit attitude and behavior towards her. She deserves to be loved and get out of this house because she's just a kid, my baby, though she doesn't deserve this life we've built for her. She deserves people who won't yell or snap at her for being a kid. I hope she never fears me. I hope she never feels her stomach churn because of the sound of my voice, and I hope she never knows me by the sound of my footsteps. Because, lord knows she deserves so, so much more. She deserves to feel safe in her own room with out me saying to get out (we share a room). And yet, I still can't help but feel that selfishness that screams at me from the darkest parts of my mind, the ones that scream "kick her out before she ruins the delicate system you have built in this room, she doesn't deserve to be here." And yet, I so desperately want to listen to the much, much smaller voice that says "this is her room to, she deserves to feel safe in here to without feeling like shes walking on eggshells. You swore to yourself that you'd never make her feel the way you did when you were her age. But look at you now. Horrible and basically as bad as you feared you'd be." I hate it. I miss knowing my little sister more than I knew myself. She just wants her big sisters attention. She just wanted my love and validation. I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I'm not looking. I hate it. I hate that she looks at me like I'm not the big sister she wants. I miss when she used to look at me with stars in her eyes and awe in her voice as she screamed my nickname so happily, the nickname only she's allowed to call me. It feels weird when she calls me by my actual name, even when it's not that different. Where was I going with this? I don't know. I just miss my baby sister, my baby. My dear sister. And maybe that's my fault. Scratch that. It most definitely is my fault. I pushed her away because I was scared of hurting her, but I hurt her anyway. It's hard not to when you both have shared a room since she was a baby. I've never had my own space. Maybe that's why I do this. Out of my own selfish desire for privacy. She doesn't deserve this. If only she were born earlier. If only she were closer in age. But, would that have changed things? I don't know. I wish I did. God, or whoevers listening, please, oh please, let there be a universe where I can live my baby sister like she needs me too. Where I'm actually a good sister. Where she doesn't fear my mood swings like they're a knife I'm about to stab her with. Where she never finches away from me in fear of what will happen. Where she never gets that long, sad stare when she thinks we aren't looking. Where I can protect her from all the bad, instead of being the bad she needs shelter from. Please, whoever is listening to this. Please, let there be a universe where I'm not a fucked up little kid who will never know whats wrong with me. I just want to know what's wrong with me. Maybe then I'll stop snapping and hurting the ones I love. I don't want to be my grandma. I don't want to be someone who snaps at the smallest things because they aren't how she left them. I don't want to make my loved ones sick of me because of how I am. I don't want to be someone who is feared by my siblings. I don't want my little baby sister (who is taller than me now? when did that happen?) to flea to her room so her big sister to be better just for her to realize I'm the one she's hiding from. I don't want her to feel like she'll never feel safe around me again. Please, lord, don't let me become like my grandma, who makes everyone drained when she starts talking. Instead, lord, let me be like my mother, the kind soul she is, and let me be an open space where I can't help but spill my guts too.

Please let me be a good sister.

Please don't let me become my grandmother and hers before her.

Please, let me be like my mother.

Pleaee let me baby sister feel like she is not wanted because if my stupid mistakes.

Please let her not take to heart what I said when I was angry and had no control over my words and emotions.

Please let her know that she will always have a place in my heart no matter what.

Please let her know that no matter what I say, her big sister will always love her, even if she doesn't love me.

Please let her know it's never going to be her fault for being and acting like a child, for wanting her big sisters approval.

Please let her know I will never, ever truly hate her (I genuinely don't think I can).

Please, lord above, tell me what's wrong with me so I can fix it and be a better sister to my older and younger siblings. If not, then, please, strike me down and send me to hell.

I can not handle hurting them again. I think it will kill me. I can not handle seeing my family cry because of my stupid, reckless, impulsive actions. I can't do this anymore.

Please let my family know that if I do eventually die by my own hand, it was never their fault. It was mine for being so weak.

Please let my sister know that she will never be at fault for what her big sister did.

Please let my baby, my little sister know that her big sister has always been proud of her.

Please, God, tell me what is wrong with me so that I may fix it.

(perhaps i wasn't cut out to be a sibling..?)

[doodlboy]

Need 2 work on getting that therapist

[jerriisspeakingnow]

Ever hear a laugh so scrumptious your brain short circuits ERROR 404 malfunction ??

…yeah no I have no idea what you’re talking about.

[strangersteddierthings]

Here's a lil idea that I simply do not have the time to make a full fic of, but I gotta get it out or it won't leave me alone.

Steve thinks he's in a happy, fulfilling relationship with Eddie, while Eddie's insecurities have him believing he's just a place holder for the future Mrs. Harrington.

It comes to light when Steve does something cheesy and romantic and Eddie, not able to handle it because it's too romantic, tries to joke about it like "why would you bother to put all this effort in just for me?"

And Steve like "what do you mean? You're my boyfriend and I wanted to"

And then Eddie like "yeah, no, I know that. I just don't understand why." And then he goes on a little self-deprecating rant, explaining all the ways he's not good enough for Steve, all while Steve just stares at him, brow furrowing more and more as Eddie speaks.

When Eddie finally runs out of words, Steve says, "I don't understand? What have I done to make you think this?"

And Eddie kinda blue screens. Because Steve hasn't done anything to make Eddie think this; he's been a perfect boyfriend. It's just... it's inevitable, isn't it? That Steve'll move onto to bigger, better things? Eddie says as much.

"Why?"

"Because it's- because you're Steve Harrington!"

Since Steve's brow can't possibly furrow anymore, he starts to frown now. "I still don't understand?? Why did- do you think I'm just going to be going through the checkout at Melvald's and just decide I want to marry some random woman instead of being with you?"

"What? No. It's not- I don't think you'll intentionally decide you want someone else more just randomly but, like..."

"There's no 'but' here, Eds. I asked you out because I want to be with you. You said yes because, I assume, you want to be with me, too! Was I wrong to assume-"

"NO! No! I do want to be with you!"

"Then.... you think I don't want to be with you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Sorry, it felt like you were implying it. So. If I haven't done anything to make you think I don't want to be with you, and you just said you want to be with me, then what... I don't understand where these thoughts have come from. Have you- were you just going to go through our whole relationship waiting for something bad to happen?"

And Eddie can just look down and shrug because, well, yeah. He had been thinking that. He has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now they're having this conversation and he's ruined Steve's sweet, romantic gesture with his own bullshit. So, even if the shoe wasn't going to drop before, it will now, because he's gone and fucked it up by putting his insecurities onto Steve and-

"What can I do to help you believe I'm in it, for as long as you want me?"

Eddie looks back to Steve then, because that's not what he expected to hear. "What?"

Steve steps closer, the furrowed brow and the frown gone, replacing it instead is the sappy look he catches on Steve's face every now and then, when Eddie's doing something particularly Eddie-ish. "Tell me what I can do to help you believe in this. In us. And I'll do it. Every day until we die."

"Steve," Eddie warbles out, surprised by his own watery voice. "I-I'm sorry. I-"

"Hush," Steve says, gentle and sure as he takes Eddie's face in his hands. "No apologies. I get it, so you don't have to apologize. Just. Talk to me, okay? Because I'm not holding out for something better. Not when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Besides Robin."

"Besides Robin," Eddie agrees, nodding his head as much as he can in Steve's grasp. "But, uh, things like this. This helps." He gestures at the romantic candle-lite dinner slowly getting cold. There are flowers in a vase, and a cheesy little Garfield plushie sitting on the table, leaned against Eddie's wine glass. It's a Tuesday night in June and nowhere near a birthday, or holiday, or anniversary. Steve's just made him a sweet, romantic dinner just because.

"Oh good. You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself by not doing this weekly," Steve whispers before placing a kiss to Eddie's forehead, nose, then lips. "Now. Let's eat dinner before it gets too cold."

And it might take a while, for Eddie's insecurities to fade, but Steve keeps being Steve, which means perfect if not a little snarky, and then the next thing Eddie knows, it's been several decades and Steve will walk with him hand in hand to the courthouse and stand in line for hours to quickly get married. (They'll spend another two years planning the actual wedding because Eddie's dramatic and Steve's a perfectionist.)

[nfr-girly]

hasan finding out ur pregnant on stream 😭🫶🏼

AHH I’ve literally thought of this before - but then I remember I write and I can literally do it myself 😣

————————————————————————

-you’d probably have found out a few days before you tell him, just so nervous to say anything

-he’d notice too, ur mood changes a lil and he gets a bit worried

-you’d decide to show him on stream, and I can guarantee he’d be going off about a political topic and just FUMING at all the idiots he’s watching

-you slightly open the door and he stops to look at you, he’s still red after ranting for almost 10 minutes, while you’re there all nervous 🥹🫶

-“you okay baby?” He’d ask, which does settle you a bit and you walk over to him, not even saying anything and handing the test to him

-chat can see it’s a pregnancy test and already starts FLOODING the chat before Hasan can even react, just a bunch of “OMG STOP” “IS THAT A TEST??!!??” “Hasan in his dad era”

-Hasan actually takes a minute to figure out what it says, partly because he’s still coming back from his outburst earlier, but also because of all the emotions going through his head.

-you do start to get worried seeing how long he takes to respond. you whisper a “Hasan?” to get his attention, already preparing to take whatever harsh words he has to say, cause you’re starting to think this isn’t what he wants

-but when he looks up your heart actually melts, all the red in his face now gone and now replaced with tears in his eyes

-“is this real?” He asks, begging that it is

-“yeah it’s real” you giggle a bit, knowing now he’s not mad

-all of a sudden you’re hugged by a 6’4 man who’s bursting into tears, literally almost knocking you over, mans literally bolted into you

-you laugh and play with his hair, now crying yourself 🥹

- “so you’re okay with this?” You ask

-he looks at you and wipes his eyes, “are you kidding me? I’m gonna be a dad of course I am” he laughs and kisses you

-bro everyone’s crying in the chat now cause of you two lovebirds

-SPEAKING OF CHAT the amount of emotions that went through everyone ??

-the excitement upon seeing the test, the worry at Hasans reaction, and then the support after he hugged you

-chat needs a break cause wtf

-but after you guys calm down you guys go outside in the corridor to talk for a sec, you tell him about when you found out and he feels so bad he couldn’t have supported you when you did 🥲

-you don’t care anymore you’re just so happy

-you let him go back to the stream and you guys agree to talk later

-he’d come back to the stream and need to take like 6 minutes to get back into it

-he actually does forget what he was ranting on about 😭 chat has to go through it with him

-trust though he does go back to full on RAGING once he reads something stupid

-but all that’s on his mind is this new journey you two will be on <33

[notjustjavierpena]

Eat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Pussy? Eaten. Stomach? Butterflies. Hotel? Trivago.  Think this takes place short after Gush.

Summary: You tell Joel that you cannot come from getting eaten out, but he isn’t convinced. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, soft soft soft and patient joel, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, intense orgasm, pet names , bit of praise kink and body worship

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49669783

Eat

Joel has you completely naked and pinned to his bed. It’s a Saturday afternoon, sun is pining in through the curtains and heating up the room that’s already warm from your bodies being entwined. You have yet to get out of bed despite needing a shower, perhaps some food for your growling stomach, and maybe a glass of ice water from how sweaty your body is when you are in the older man’s proximity. He makes your heart pound.

He hovers over you whilst on his knees between your legs, hands on your wrists and gaze hungry as he contemplates what he wants to do with you. Your stomach drops as he asks, “Will you lemme have it? Lemme eat your pussy, princess?”

It’s not that you don’t think this is sexy. It is just that. Though, despite how many times Joel has made you come during the summer, he actually hasn’t gone down on you yet. 

He has tried a million times though, but you have always playfully pushed his head away every time he has tried to descend on your body, distracted him with a blowjob, or made him finger your cunt instead. At this point, you still haven’t told him that the reason is that you simply don’t like it. 

“Joel,” you avoid his gaze, turn your head away, “I—“

Joel hasn’t heard hesitation from you before, only the jokes that he hasn’t taken to heart. He lets go of one of your wrists, takes hold of your chin, and guides your head back so you face him again. He furrows his brow at the uncertainty in your eyes that meet his, “What’s a’ matter?”

“Nothing,” you play dumb, avoiding his curious look once more but he snaps his fingers in front of you to regain your attention. You groan at how well it works, “Why would anything be wrong? It’s just… I don’t really like it. I can’t come from it.”

Joel narrows his eyes slightly, not convinced, “Why’d you think you can’t come from it?”

“This guy I was with,” you begin and it’s Joel’s turn to look uncertain. You want to roll your eyes; doesn’t he know that he has ruined everyone else for you by now? 

“Years ago,” you add, “He told me I took too long, so maybe I just, you know, couldn’t. I didn’t want to try again.” 

Joel doesn’t get pissed at the guy or start a rant like you expect him to do (something about that boy taking this sort of experience from you and turning it into something negative). Instead, he starts laughing to the point where he needs to rest his forehead against your shoulder to calm himself because the pout you give him just makes him laugh harder. 

“What?” You push at his head in annoyance. He cannot even hold onto your other wrist anymore. 

“Took too long. Jesus,” his laughter is interrupted by a cough. You can feel his chest vibrating against your own, “He was bullshittin’ you, baby girl. What a lazy piece of shit, and what range of stupid lil’ fuckers you’ve allowed to have what’s mine.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate it,” you squirm underneath him at his choice of words, reaching for his hair with your hands to pull at it gently, “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

“It is kinda funny,” he looks up at you through his lashes. There’s something sweet to his voice whilst his eyes darken, “Hey now. It’s just… ya said ya didn’t squirt either, and then fuckin’ wet the bed.”

You go beet red, “Joel. God.”

“I’m merely a man just tryna prove a point,” he jokes, earning a glare. Something shifts a little in the air and then he isn’t playing anymore, “Will ya lemme try? Just f’me? We can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sound unsure. 

“We’ll go reeeal slow,” he pushes.

“O-okay,” you say. What’s the harm in letting him try? It’s not like it is uncomfortable for you, but rather just slightly boring and awkward. 

“Okay’s not a yes, princess,” Joel crawls up to try to kiss your uncertainty away. He pecks your lips over and over again, switching not long after to pepper your face with more gentle kisses instead. They’re scattered across your cheeks, lips, nose, above your eyebrows, soft eyelids, and chin. He doesn’t let up until you giggle sweetly. 

“Yes!” You squeak and mess up his hair, “Eat some damn pussy, if it means that much to you.”

“Try to relax for me,” he instructs and pushes himself to sit up again. His eyes have darkened further, “How do you want ya legs?”

You bend your legs, planting your feet firmly on the bed and spreading yourself open enough for Joel’s broad shoulders to fit between your thighs. He doesn’t go down yet though, keeping his promise of taking things slow in case you want to stop before it gets too intense. 

His lips connect to where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing his nose firmly into you to inhale your scent. It must be nothing but sleep and sweat by now. He opens his mouth against your skin, sucks across your collarbone until he reaches your jugular notch. He dips his tongue into the dent, and licks off the sweat before murmuring, “I can feel you not relaxin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a pounding heart and you mean it, curl your toes, but he shushes you immediately. 

“No, no. This ain’t on you, baby. Tell me what I can do to make ya relax,” he pulls back to look at your face. He looks so gorgeous with the sun hitting his body like this. 

“Talk to me,” you whisper without knowing why. 

“My baby wants to hear how gorgeous she is?” He asks as he goes back to putting his mouth on your throat. You tip your head back, and he hums against you, “How perfect ‘n beautiful ‘n sexy? Perhaps a little spoiled too?”

“Mhm, yes,” you rest your hand on the back of his neck when he starts to descend. His lips trail down between your breasts, and his huge palm covers one of them whilst he sucks on the other. He is eager, cheeky enough to tug your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You moan softly.

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Jesus, look at you,” he mumbles absentmindedly to himself before going back in. He dares to suck a light purple mark onto your skin just close enough to your nipple so that you can cover it up and keep it a secret between the two of you even if going to the lake with friends and wearing your skimpy bikini.

You groan and arch your back when he switches to the other one of your tits, cupping it still whilst lapping at your nipple. He flicks his tongue across it just when you think he might pull away, causing you to let out a long drawn-out whine. 

“You fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?” He kisses the swell of your breast, tugs a little with his hand. You close your eyes, bolts of arousal shooting up your spine again when he suckles once more. 

Slowly, you find that much of the nervousness is seeping out of your body with every kiss, lick and suck of your salty skin. It may be the time to admit that Joel knows just which buttons to push to turn you into putty. It may also be the time to admit that you are starting to get excited about what is going to happen. Nervous but excited.

“You’re so soft… like damn silk,” he admires whilst he goes lower. His nose brushes along the length of your stomach, tickling a little to the point where you shiver and let out a soft sigh. He relishes in it, “Damn, baby. Listen to that sound.”

You rake your nails across his scalp when he nips at your skin. Heat is pooling in your belly and you can feel slick drip onto the sheets, running down the cleft of your ass, “Touch my pussy, Daddy.”

Joel tenses visibly at the nickname. He grips your hip, and somehow becomes a little rougher in everything he does, “Gotta wait. Maybe your disaster college boyfriend didn’t get ya worked up enough. I definitely ain’t gonna make that mistake.”

He crawls further down, kisses open-mouthed and hot right below your belly button several times. Even places the flat of his tongue against the skin there to lick long languid stripes, “Won’t start until you beg me to kiss your little twitchin’ clit.”

“But I’m so wet,” you pout, flexing the muscles in your stomach. When you try lifting your hips to find some kind of friction, he pushes you right back down into the mattress. 

“Stop,” he warns sternly. The hand on your hip runs across your belly, teases over your mound and ghosts over your clit until you cry feebly for him, “Do you want me to just touch ya between your pretty legs?” 

“I told you I don’t like the other thing,” you reply to spite him and egg him on. He smacks one of your thighs, wiggling the flesh after. 

“Liar,” he breaks eye contact to look right down at your cunt. You are sure that he can see how you clench around nothing, clit so hard that it is exposed from underneath the hood. You are so ready for him to follow through, no matter the nervousness in your body, “The anticipation wouldn’t have you this excited if yadidn’t care. You’ll fuckin’ let Daddy live between your thighs after he’s done eating.” 

“Fine,” you huff, spreading your legs further to punctuate your sentence, “Put your mouth on my pussy. Prove it.”

Joel groans at the sight of you giving in to him. He gets comfortable on the bed, legs hanging out over the edge. One arm scoops underneath you to curl around your right thigh and the other rests on top of your left. He splays his hand across your sternum, and almost automatically, you reach for it and tug at two of his fingers as if needing something to hold onto for dear life. 

“Now we talkin’,” he smirks. 

“Hold on,” you interrupt, heart almost beating out of your chest with how horny you feel. That, and the fact that what Joel is about to do to you seems to be the most intimate thing you can think of. It feels dangerous, exciting, and scary.

You put another pillow behind your back and head, so you can watch him over the top of your tits and his hand. He grumbles but waits. 

“Go,” you say with an apologetic smile, “Just wanted to see you.”

“Ain’t you adorable?” Joel gazes up at you to follow through on your wish, “Ready?”

“Just wanna come now,” you promise, “‘m just nervous. Makes me fidget.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, breath ghosting over your pussy as he lowers himself down slowly, “Makes ya toes curl too.” 

You cannot quite believe that you have Joel Miller’s face between your legs right now, and even less so believe the hungriest smile in history that he is sporting. It is enough to make you blush, letting go of Joel’s hand and reaching up to cup your face when the anticipation becomes overwhelming. You rest your pinkies in front of your mouth, palms burning from being clasped around your cheeks but it feels like you might lose it if you let go.

The simple brush of his tongue that he chooses as a starting point has you squirming on the bed. His tongue is warm and flat against you, licking how he had done it against the sensitive skin of your stomach. 

Your stomach muscles twitch. It feels… good. Better than the first time you did it. 

“Okay?” He asks in a hum, looking up at you through his lashes with genuine eyes. You nod slowly, and he lowers again to press a soft kiss to your sensitive clit. 

And then another.

And another. 

You make a noise best described as a soft sigh. 

Then he goes lower, the kisses becoming more sloppy and wet. He stops when he reaches your quivering cunt, lets out his tongue to scoop up some of the slick that has gathered and is spilling down between your cheeks. He then licks a long stripe all the way up to your clit, and laps at it like he is eating a damn ice cream cone. 

“Mhmm, tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, like heaven,” he continues with his small licks, the hand on your chest finding your left nipple. Tugs like he knows you like. 

You moan for the first time, not sure if you have repressed the urge to do so. He takes it as a sign to keep going, stiffening his tongue to run it between your folds repeatedly and eventually settling on your clit again. He flicks the tensed-up muscle against the nub, setting up a pace that suddenly causes you to whine.

“Ohh,” you swallow thickly, part your lips and breathe heavily. A muscle in the thigh that Joel is holding flexes involuntarily, and you can feel him smirk against you when he moves back to open-mouthed kisses. 

“No, go back,” you demand, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Joel pulls back instead to tease you. He removes his hand from your thigh to suck his thumb into his mouth. He makes you tremble at the sight, but even more when he circles your clit with the pad of the finger after, “You like Daddy’s tongue on your pussy, baby?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Say it,” he still draws lazy circles.

“Feels so good,” you admit finally with a groan, “You’re always right.”

“Know I am,” he kisses your inner thigh. The hand on your breast moves to rub soothingly up and down your belly, “‘bout time you realized.”

“I want you to keep going,” you say with a shy smile, blinking down at him, “Please, Daddy?”

His hands still on you, but then he reaches to place both hands on your inner thighs to spread you out a little further. You fall back into the pillow, and he sinks into you again, “Whatever baby wants, baby gets.”

You have never actually thought about how big his mouth is before. In fact, it is huge in comparison to everything about you. He is able to stretch his lips over every inch of your cunt, and he gladly does.

Your breath hitches before you let out a drawn-out moan. Joel eats you out enthusiastically; he licks, sucks, and even dips his tongue inside of you for a moment too. You can feel the world closing in on you, shrinking to nothing but the pressure that builds. 

“It’s—“ you want to say something that makes sense, because whatever you had done in the dim light of your college dormitory a few years prior was definitely not this, but there are no words that describe how overwhelming his slick tongue is, “It’s— oh God.”

You squeal pathetically as your cunt teeters on the edge of an orgasm. You try to press your thighs inwards to make the intensity go away, but Joel is so much stronger than you.

It hits you then. Fuck, it’s going to happen; you’re going to come with his mouth between your legs, and he is never going to let you live this down. This is not what you had planned. There is a little part of you that knows you would have relished in being right for once, but there’s a much bigger part that thanks the Gods that you aren’t going to live forever without coming like this. 

You close your eyes as you groan, but it makes Joel slow down, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, look at me.”

He sucks again, and your hands fly to his hair, but it only goes on for a second, “Ya doing so well. Does it feel good, princess?”

“You’re being mean,” you whimper, tugging at the strands of hair that you have between your fingers, “Make me come.”

Joel follows through then. He buries his nose in your mound and sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with how much effort he puts into it. When you start thrashing on the bed, he wraps his arms around your legs and holds you tightly in place until you fall apart right below his mouth. 

You shriek as your cunt spasms. If not for Joel’s strength, you are sure that you would have accidentally kneed him in the face, because your legs lose control of themselves as if the orgasm has severed any connection to them. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” you break the swearing rule as your orgasm peaks, pushing and pulling his head away because you don’t have a clue whether you want more or less. Your back arches as Joel keeps licking through your drenched folds, you think you might have started to cry too. 

Shaking breaths echo through Joel’s bedroom as you come down. Joel has removed your hands from his head, and you have slumped into the mattress with a whimper. Nothing has ever felt more dirty. 

“Are you okay?” He asks after crawling up the bed to lay beside you. He rubs your stomach with his broad hand, and even that makes you let out a feeble sigh. 

You laugh with exhaustion, but don’t reply. 

“I do good?” He asks with a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his hand over his soaked mouth and chin. 

You turn your head to look at him but then start giggling, pointing to your own nose, “You got a little… you know.”

He doesn’t get it when he wipes his hand over his nose the first time. You laugh harder due to the dopamine flowing through your system, and he grumbles, “Well help me then, kiddo.” 

When you beckon him closer, he moves without hesitation, and as you run your index finger down his nose to catch your own shiny arousal, you try to push down the feeling of butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

It’s a feeling that needs to go away. You can’t possibly love Joel Miller and survive.

.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[cloudsontherainbow]

Vox Tickle Headcanons!!

Because my art has been making itself at a very slow rate, have some Vox headcanons that rot my brain while you wait

These are mixed up with lee and ler because I was just going on a rampage

my lil guy @hype-blue-fixation was most of my inspiration for this

WARNING: Some might be a bit intense for some viewers so keep that in mind!!

———————————————————————————————

Can NOT say tickle when in a lee mood, replacing it with “tiggle” or “tword”, however in a ler mood he’ll be sure to make the lee crumble by just that word

Absolutely bullies the lee if he’s the one wrecking their ass, there will be zero mercy

He’s a evil teaser, that is his weapon 

“Ohohoh look who just found a bad spot~”

“Let’s see how loud I can get you..that way I don’t have to tell everyone how ticklish you are, you’ll be doing it yourself~”

Will not stop till safe word is said, he wants to saver every single second he has to drive the lee crazy

Instead of “soft to rough” tickles, he likes doing “rough to soft” tickles 

When in a ler mood, he likes scratching his claws on anything (ex. On his desk, edge of his sleeves, running them on the walls)

When in a lee mood, he will hang around his pet sharkies a lot, getting subtle cuddles from them<3

He’d rather burn in hell twice than ask for tickles.

In a lee mood, he’ll be extra sensitive to any sort of touch; flinching away from hugs, pat on the back, even handshakes

He’s a runner and will try to escape if even a mention of him getting tickled is said 

Bratty.

Even while getting his ass wrecked, he’ll say bratty comments 

“Is this all you got??”

“And here you said you were gonna have me breathless, where’s all that talk?”

Except once you really get him cackling, he will be begging for his life 

He’s a stomper

And of course, a squirmed too, this man WILL NOT stay still no matter what you do

The back of his head/tv panel is his worst spot. No one will convince me otherwise.

You can very much trick him to admit to wanting tickles; teasing him the whole day with slight touches, subtle teases, anything that resembles tickling will drive him insane to the point where he will burst

“STOP IT with the stupid fucking teasing, you’ve been fucking with me the entire day. Just t-t-t-…fuck-“ Just imagine the ler smirking down at him, getting the tv man flustered as fuck and realizes it was a trick all along~

“I don’t want it anymore. Get AWAY from me!!-“

Has ticklish palmmmssss

He actually doesn’t mind when Vel/Val just trace his palms, using him as a fidget toy

He rants to his sharks about the tickle scenarios in his head, and it’s a lot

When he gets too flustered, he has to release it in some kind of way; whether that be punching the floor, kicking his feet, insulting (with no real heat) to his ler, and etc, anything you can think of

When he wants to cover his face, he just rotates his tv head 360 degrees and lays it on the ground

But that exposes his tv panel so it’s a big gamble to hope that his ler doesn’t know that’s even a tickle spot

[delcakoo2]

ema’s fic rec’s ₊˚⏃⊹!

i decided to make a lil’ masterlist of fics i thoroughly enjoyed for you guys to also read and support these amazing authors <3 make sure to give them lots of feedback and love; do not be a silent reader T-T! also, there will be no social media aus or smut in any fics below. have fun!!

★ = ALL TIME FAVORITE !!

ENHYPEN !

⚠︎ yang jungwon:

http-do-you-luv-me? ★!!! (16k, jock won, e2l, f, a)

i have reread this masterpiece countless times and it’s p much my comfort fic T-T i could rant about it forever, even if u dont read enha/longfics just read RNNN, all time fav fs <3

for any price ★ (9.4k, assassin won, f, a)

saw assassin and clicked immediately jshsjs, very unique and exciting!! plus yeonjun is featured.. *stares*

in your dreams ★ (10k, dreamwatcher? won, e2l, f, a)

you cannot find any other fic like this one, very creative idea and has a bit of everything !!

love that blooms (demigod au, f)

chasin’ your pretty thoughts (22k, mindreader won, f, a)

lost cause (8.5k, classmate won, f, a)

would you be so kind? (3.7k, classmate won, f)

crepuscule (11.5k, vampire won, f, a)

closer (4.7k, ravenclaw won, f, a)

war tactics and kisses (demigod au, f)

attention, please! (9k, jock won, f, a)

⚠︎ lee heeseung:

always been you (16.5k, badboy/bestfriend hee, f)

my camp counselor is kinda hot (demigod au, f)

attention, please! (8k, jock hee, f, a)

⚠︎ park jay:

study lessons (12.3k, jock jay, f, a)

⚠︎ sim jake:

none for now <\3

⚠︎ park sunghoon:

the 7th sense (10.3k, dragon hoon, f, a)

marriage discount (2k, fake dating, f)

reasons to date (2.8k, classmate/friend hoon, f)

enchanted (3k+ ongoing series, prince hoon, f)

⚠︎ kim sunoo:

none for now <\3

⚠︎ nishimura riki:

sixteen eighty-five ★! (6k, e2l jock/newsclub riki, f, a)

another all time fav, everything about it is just what i enjoy in a fic and i could reread it over and over <33 niki is so mean but then so nice it’s just auhsjs aww

dear bus-noona ★ (0.8k, stranger riki, f)

i barely read short drabbles, but this was absolutely adorable and had me laughing and smiling even with just 800 words <3

kitty got your tongue (14.6k, assassin riki, f, a)

sucks to be you, sleepyhead (demigod au, e2l f)

all i want for christmas is you (5.4k, e2l, fake dating, f)

attention, please! (10.8k, jock riki, e2l, f, a)

lucky charm (2.6k, classmate riki, e2l, f)

behind the net! (9.8k, jock riki, team manager reader, e2l, f, a, plugging my own fic cuz why not)

⚠︎ ot7:

silenced ★! (20k+, zombie apocalypse series)

i just love apocalypse aus so when i found this i KNEW i’d love it <3 the boys are all so loveable and unique in their own ways and mc is so chill but also a badass <3 very high recommend!!!!

TXT !

⚠︎ choi yeonjun:

steal my heart (19.6k, royal + arranged marriage au, f, a)

i said “why won’t you forget?” (2.7k, runaway beomjun, f, a)

mr. vice president (7.3k, frenemies/academic rival yeonjun, f, a)

⚠︎ choi soobin:

actions have consequences (4k, lifeguard au, f, a)

⚠︎ choi beomgyu:

the prince and the jackal ★!! (11.8k natureprince gyu, f)

AAH ANOTHER ALL TIME FAV, i could talk about it forever, but it’s just so unique and close to my heart and the bantering is so cute, idc if u dont read txt read rn it’s amazing <3

the only exception ★ (12.4k, stranger gyu, f)

this fic is just so warm and homely? it made me smile lots T-T

i said “why won’t you “forget?” (2.7k, runaway beomjun, f, a)

favor (4k+ twoshot, classmate gyu, f, a)

⚠︎ kang taehyun:

none yet <\3

⚠︎ huening kai:

none yet <\3

EXTRA ! (i don’t read bts anymore, but i wanted to include these since they’re still favs of mine!)

so you wanna be the best ★ (8.1k, POKEMON TRAINER JUNGKOOK! f)

I GREW UP WITH POKEMON, DIGIMON ALL THAT. so when i saw this??? i genuinely screamed this. one is vv close to my heart <3

lifeguard ★ (12.6k, lifeguard jungkook, f)

this fic will get you to giggle at least once, istg one of the funniest fics i’ve read it is HILARIOUS i’m not over jk putting sunscreen on mcs back and her thinking it was tae the whole time T-T

thank you for reading!! again, make sure to give the authors lots of love :D

[i-need-a-slurpee]

My best friend and I came up with a stupid little concept for our silly little "akechi lives don't ask how though" persona 5 AU

So you know how middle school and high schoolers use codenames with their best friends to talk about other people in public. Like referring to someone's crush as "pineapple" we were thinking that akira does that but since they already have codenames he just switches everyone's codenames down one in order of who joined. We used a whiteboard to illustrate what kind of shenanigans could ensue

I'm gonna write down everything that was on the board in case it's difficult to understand when looking at the picture

A key to all the symbols

-> are Akechi's thoughts

On its own are things that are said

Codenames: Akira - Violet, Ryuji - Joker, Morgana - Skull, Ann - Mona, Yusuke- Panther, Makoto - Fox, Futaba - Queen, Haru - Oracle, Akechi - Noir, Sumi - Crow. The only people who know and understand the codename switch are Ann, Akira and Ryuji and they use it to gossip

The fun begins when we decided to torture Akechi by having him accidently overhear almost every conversation where these confusing nicknames are used.

Akechi overhears:

Akira: omg Noir is so cute

-> cries and calls Ann

[This is the phone call Akechi has with Ann, which is labeled with 3 on the whiteboard:

Akechi: heyyy Ann so funny story um does Akira like...yknow...like Noir? Haru?

Ann, knowing the truth and thinking this is the funniest thing ever: omg yea girl he totally for real likes Noir

Akechi, wanting to die a lil bit: haha cool thats great thx bye]

"Queen is gonna ask out Crow"

-> gag, ew, distance from Makoto bc omg WHY

"Fox and Oracle are dating"

-> ?? I thought Oracle was a lesbian??

"Shujin is gonna fall apart now that Fox left"

-> he went?? to Kosei?? hello??

Akira: "Skull is so heavy T^T like he decides fo sleep right on my ribs it hurts"

-> ?????

Akira: "so yea I'm gonna ask Noir to go to the jazz club tonight, since it's like, our place, yknow"

-> WHAT THE FUCK.

-> (gets a text from akira to go to the jazz club 2 minutes later)

4. Akechi rants to sumi about it cause he doesn't trust ann anymore

☆ has a detective board with w/ quotes ect.

☆ sumi also tries to help (even more confused than he is)

Ann: violet needs to ask noir out already

Ryuji: I know dude, like I love the guy but, c'mon

-> SUMI'S IN ON IT TOO T^T

Akira does this needlessly complicated name system just to be messy. He doesn't plan on akechi finding out but he keeps it complicated in case any of the others overhear him. He didn't think the possibility of akechi overhearing was very high but Akechi loves to eavesdrop.

[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another. 

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you. 

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol. 

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond. 

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start. 

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet. 

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar. 

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public. 

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with. 

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet. 

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened. 

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had. 

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet. 

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with. 

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you. 

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet. 

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little. 

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And– and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it. 

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don’t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses. 

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.” 

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him. 

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend. 

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile. 

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative. 

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia. 

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out. 

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you. 

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you. 

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try. 

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want. 

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room. 

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him. 

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy. 

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body. 

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

<3

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