#candle varieties

[babybutchbluescomix]

out of literally everything in the world, id say my job gives me the most dysphoria

[katatty]

By the end of the round, after brewing honey must, drying tea leaves, and more, the family finally have a batch of mead ready to brew! It'll take 5 days though, so hopefully it'll be ready by the end of winter... (and hopefully they've got enough honey leftover to keep the bees alive!)

They've also branched out into making candles with the wax, which will hopefully sell well in the cold winter months. The beekeeping industry is definitely one of the more complex Sun&Moon sets, but I've gone from dreading the Glanndours to quite enjoying them :)

[lys-jeorge]

[nexus-nebulae]

i wish bath n body works made like. deodorant,,, like perfume is nice and all but i do not like The Wet

[namira]

Also happy 7th night :)

[uada-animus]

.

First Halloween in my apartment! We'll see if I get any trick-or-treaters!

[agothinhiding]

due to my mom being a hippy witch and my inherited dislike for fruity scents, we always used incense in the house in lieu of candles. and let me tell you I was not prepared for how many adult friends I would make that see me light a stick of incense and go "Oh THAT'S how you're supposed to light it? that makes so much more sense" because they think you're supposed to leave the tip on fire like it's a candle wick

[desertrosew]

[sigh-tofm]

when the power goes out one cold and rainy november evening…

… price

- goes full dad. pulls the grill up to the back veranda door and cooks up some mean steaks for you two. gets a fire going in the fireplace to keep the house heated. has half a mind to call the power company and tell them that they don’t need to hurry, he’s got everything covered here. actually, they don’t need to come at all, not for a few days. tells you his thoughts as he pulls the mattress off your bed and deposits it in the living room in front of the fireplace, so you both can keep warm tonight. you let him know in no uncertain terms that he will do no such thing. you’ll let him have is fun tonight, but you will need a hot shower and a working oven in 36 hours, no matter how much he wants to play boyscout. but as you sit in front of the roaring fireplace and your admittedly very rugged and handsome husband feeds you bits of grilled steak and holds a glass of red wine to your lips, a thick, warm blanket covering you both, you must admit that this isn’t bad either.

… kyle

- excitedly improvises. you know, it’s like this every day when we’re in the field, he beams as he brushes the dust off the firepit in the woodshed. doesn’t mean it has to be like this now though, does it, kyle. you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and watch as he finds the least rotten firewood in the shed and uses up eight matches before he can get a light. you almost tell him to leave it and come inside, that you’ll order in tonight, but he’s so engulfed in fanning the little flame to life that you can’t help but play along. you get an umbrella when the rain comes down harder and use it to shield both your boyfriend and his firepit from the weather. when you gently ask how he’s going to cook up the pizza you two were in the middle of preparing when the power went out, he wilts a little, but somehow manages to macgyver a cooking system for it that only leaves it slightly burnt. you know, he says while you two are standing under the awning, admiring your fire baby and nibbling on damp, blackened pizza, in the field we sometimes need to share sleeping bags too.

… johnny

- immediately relents. moans and groans about being off duty and that he shouldn’t be expected to fend for himself like this when he isn’t in an active war zone. you pull up the local takeaway menu on your phone and hand it to him. go get us some warm food, soldier, you prompt him and gather up some supplies while he’s away. the old scottish farmhouse you live in has a fireplace, of course, so you light a fire there and with some effort pull the couch up in front of it. blankets and pillows from the living room, old fair isle knit jumpers from the hallway closet, a sheepskin rug to warm your feet on. when he comes back with his arms full of steaming indian (best to get some extra, mo chridhe), his mood seems to have lightened a little too. especially when he sees you in thigh high knit stockings, wearing his jumper and laying on the sheepskin rug. okay, maybe this isn’t so bad. at least he’s not being shot at.

… simon

- is prepared. goes down to the basement and carries up box after box of emergency equipment. hands you a round little paraffin stove (which you have no idea how to work) and a matching aluminium pan, as well as a large variety of ready-made freeze dried stews and soups. just add water, he says unhelpfully, and continues pulling out equipment from his kit. amongst the various bags of tools and gadgets you can spot tent poles and emergency flares, and it’s obvious he’s been itching to use all this stuff for a while. you decide to entertain him and google your way around the stove, finally getting a light on it. you light candles and pull out your winter coats while the water boils, making it an overall cozy time. hav’ta be prepared, he mutters as he comes to sit with you when the food’s ready, the living room full of his unpacked catastrophe preparations. next time we’ll just go to a hotel, you gently request and serve him year-old mushroom stew, brought back to life with some warm water. he looks longingly at all his equipment. you yield. or camping.

[addictsitter]

also it has been twelve years and i am still not and never will be over what they did to “candles”

[rodeorun]

love in the dark.

yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.

cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️

MDNI.

“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.

One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?

He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.

‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’

Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)

You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.

A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’

And you always were.

No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?

“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”

Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.

“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”

“Sorry, Elias.”

Glittering eyelids opened themselves.

“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.

Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!

Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.

“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.

“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”

The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.

‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.

So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?

How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-

“Eli?”

“Yes, my beloved?”

You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”

Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.

“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”

A single drink.

That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.

“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.

“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.

“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.

It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.

“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.

“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”

Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.

“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.

You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.

“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”

Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.

“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.

This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.

It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’

And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?

“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”

He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.

He was met with silence.

“Darling?”

Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.

“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”

His heart froze in his chest.

“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”

You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.

His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.

“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”

“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”

Something below his belt started stirring.

“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.

The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.

First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.

“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.

“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”

Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.

All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.

“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”

“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”

Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”

He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.

“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”

“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”

By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.

“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”

That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.

Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.

“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”

You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.

“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”

Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.

Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.

“Eli? A-Are you okay?”

What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.

“It's not all out.”

“Huh? I don't understand-”

“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.

The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.

“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.

Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”

Silence.

“Darling?”

Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”

“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.

There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.

Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”

What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!

“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.

“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”

You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.

“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”

“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.

“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”

He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?

“Right,” you said, unsure.

“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”

“I don't think we should be-”

“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”

“No! I really don't know what happened!”

“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.

“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”

Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!

It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.

He was your secret lover.

“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!

Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.

Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!

Hmm..

Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.

‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’

Not even moment later, his phone rang.

“Hey, Elias?”

“Eli,” he corrected.

“Yeah, can you not-”

“Eli.”

“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”

A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.

“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”

“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”

“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.

“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”

“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.

“I have to go now,” you whispered.

“I love you, darling.”

“Yes, he's coming so-”

“I said I love you!”

“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”

Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.

It was only a matter of time now.

a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo

Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗

Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

��Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[ad-caelestia]

How to Enchant Items 🔮

To enchant an item is to infuse it with magical energy. This energy can come from a variety of sources, including celestial bodies, elements, crystals, herbs, or even yourself. 

Some individuals use the words “enchant” and “charm” synonymously as a way to describe the process of infusing something with energy, but for the sake of this post and due to my own beliefs, you enchant something and it then becomes a charm. Alternately, a charm can be something with its own innate energy, like a crystal or herbal amulet. 

Enchanting items to turn them into magical objects involves more than just intent - you must learn to channel and manipulate energy, and direct it into that item for enchanting to be successful. 

Although, the process of enchanting is extremely versatile and there are many ways to do it.

Here are a few ideas on how to enchant items, in no particular order:

Surround the item with crystals of corresponding intent

Surround the item with herbs of corresponding intent 

Place the item in a jar filled with herbs that represent your intent

Place the item in front of a candle and meditate on your intent 

Anoint the item with an oil, charged water, or crystal elixir of corresponding intent 

Hold the item in your hand(s) and visualize it filling with the appropriate energy 

Hold the item in your hand(s) and speak or sing your intent aloud

Craft a symbol to keep near the item in an envelope or sachet

Sew, stitch, or carve a symbol into the item  

Write your intention on paper and keep in an envelope with the item 

Pair the item with a corresponding runestone or tarot / oracle card in an envelope 

Take the item and put it in a box with other items that represent your intent such as crystals, herbs, talismans, amulets, etc. 

Bury the item in soil with herbs and/or crystals that match your intent (please don’t put salt on your lawn though, unless you want dead grass)

Pass the item through incense smoke that matches your intent 

Pro Tip: Time your enchantments with the appropriate planetary hour, day of the week, time of day, or lunar phase to increase your chances of creating a successful charm.

© 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 𝙰𝙳-𝙲𝙰𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙰

[crdteezv]

Just Us - Haechan

Paring: househusband!haechan x f! reader

Genre: married au, fluff, smut

Synopsis: After a long, tiring day, all you want is to relax at home and enjoy some time with your husband. With the kids staying at their grandparents' place, you and Haechan finally have the much-needed time alone that you've been waiting for…

Warnings: smut. !soft/pleasure dom! haechan, gentle/soft sex, he gives you massage…, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, oral (receiving), fingering, cumplay (you have been warned), manhandling, light degradation (only happened once), heavy praise, overstimulation, unprotected sex (breeding sex)

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/n: I’m not really the best at writing fluff, so if my style seems a little different, that’s why…

After working hard all day, all you want to do is relax in the comfort of your home and spend time with your loving husband. With the kids staying at their grandparents' house, you and Haechan finally have the quality time together that you both deserve after ages of not having it since the kids came along.

As you opened the door, you were welcomed by the delicious aroma of food.

It seemed like he was cooking something special tonight. Before heading to the kitchen, you set your things down and took off your shoes and coat. When you walked over to Haechan, you saw him dicing onions and peppers, wearing a cheesy apron that said, "Best Husband in the World."

“Oh honey, I didn’t hear you come in—”

He paused for a moment to kiss you on the lips. You gave him an endearing look, knowing full well that you needed that kiss after the day you'd had.

“Yeah, I wanted to sneak up on you.”

You let out a slight chuckle and tried to peek at what was boiling in the pot, but he stopped you.

“Hey, it’s a surprise! You'll see the final product once I’m done, alright?”

“But I want to know now—”

You tried to push past him, but he blocked you, pulling you into a hug and patting your head.

“You're always so impatient, my love. Just this once, let me surprise you, okay?”

He spoke in such a gentle and sweet tone—how could you resist his request?

“Fine, I was going to shower anyway.”

“Actually, I already ran you a bath and lit your favorite candles in the bathroom. I even left that book you were reading a while ago. You can take this time to catch up!”

How did you end up with the best man in the world?

“Aww, you really shouldn’t have.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing deeply into your eyes.

“Sweetie, as your husband, it’s my job to take care of you and spoil you when you need it. Plus, when you called me during your break earlier today, you sounded stressed, so I wanted to help in any way I could. That’s why I asked your parents to watch the kids this weekend.”

“I really love and appreciate you. You know that, right?”

He gave you another kiss.

“Of course, I know. Now go to the bathroom before the water gets cold. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

You smiled and headed straight to the bathroom, and the sight took your breath away. He had placed rose petals all around, bubbles filled the bath, and the tub had a tray with the romance novel you never finished, along with some of your favorite snacks. He even added a glass of wine.

Everything was absolutely perfect.

You slipped out of your work clothes and sank into the tub, immediately feeling the stress melt away.

Some time passed, and Haechan called out that dinner was ready. To your surprise, he had prepared a variety of your favorite dishes.

“Wait, you cooked all this for me?”

“Yeah, and I also don’t feel like cooking for the rest of the week, so we’ll have plenty of leftovers.”

You let out a small laugh and kissed him on the cheek to thank him for the meal. The two of you sat side by side and began enjoying the food together. You felt grateful to have someone like Haechan, who is always home, taking care of the kids and cooking while you're at work. You've been the main breadwinner for the family for some years now, and it brings you comfort knowing you can rely on him to keep things running smoothly at home. He doesn’t mind, of course, and fully supports you and the career you've built for yourself. Plus, he enjoys being at home, so it’s a win for him.

“So, tell me about your day, my love,” he said, gently caressing your thigh.

“Ugh, where do I even start? No one at work was following directions properly, and it had me stressed out all day. We’ve got a big deadline coming up, and I’m worried we won’t be ready in time.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. But as the head of the department, shouldn’t everyone be following your lead?”

“Yeah, but Johnny, my right-hand man, was out sick today, and it just felt like chaos. Plus, some people still doubt my abilities because I’m you know?”

He knew exactly what you were alluding to and that you often expressed feeling the power imbalance at work, especially since you’re one of the few women who run a department in the company. He put his fork down, stopped eating, and gently placed both hands on your face, caressing your cheeks.

“Well, they’re all insecure men too scared to admit how amazing you are at your job. They’re just intimidated by you. Stand your ground, be firm, and they won’t dare mess with you.”

His words of encouragement warmed your heart, filling you with comfort. You couldn’t have asked for a more supportive husband.

“Yeah, you’re right. Also, my shoulders and back have been killing me all week.”

“Aww, how about this? Since we’re done eating, why don’t you get ready for bed, and before you sleep, I’ll give you a massage. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven. This is why I love you so much.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. You got up from the dining table and headed to your shared bedroom while he tidied up the dishes and put away the leftovers. As you changed into your nightgown, you heard him get into the shower.

You started thinking about how long it had been since the two of you had been intimate. With your long work hours, you were often too exhausted to do anything, but he never pressured you. Tonight, though, with the whole weekend ahead of you, you wanted to make the most of it. You missed the way he took care of you in bed, and it felt like forever since you’d had a proper orgasm.

Deciding to surprise him, you slipped under the covers without putting on any panties. When he came out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, hair still damp, you couldn’t help but notice the happy trial leading down his torso. The sight of him stirred a desire in you that had been building for too long.  Your arousal for him grew as he changed from a towel to sweatpants, choosing to remain shirtless.

“Hey, don’t tell me you forgot about the massage I promised. Come here.”

You obeyed, lying flat on the bed. He climbed on top of you and began massaging your shoulders, immediately noticing the tension in your muscles.

“Do you even stretch in the mornings?”

“I’m way too busy getting ready for work to think about something so trivial.”

“Babe, it literally takes five minutes,” he said with a playful tone.

The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a little embarrassed, knowing he was right. He laughed softly, sensing your shyness.

“You’re so adorable when you get flustered. I want to see this side of you more often. Also, I’m just going to—”

He slowly lowered the straps of your gown, pulling it down to your waist, leaving your back fully exposed. In this moment, you felt so vulnerable under his care. The attention he was giving you made you nervous but in the best way possible.

“I needed better access, love. Also, I’ve been wanting to try this…”

He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of massage oil.

“I’ve been wanting to use this on you for a while, and now seems like the perfect time, don’t you think?”

You nodded in agreement. He poured some oil into his hands, rubbing them together before working it into your back. The oil was cool at first but soon felt soothing against your skin. As his hands moved across your back, your arousal grew. His touch, soft yet deliberate, made you wish he’d explore more than just your back. 

“Honey, are you okay? You’re shaking. Do you want me to stop?”

“NO. I mean… please don’t stop. It just feels really good.”

Your voice betrayed the deeper desire bubbling within, and you hoped he wouldn’t stop there. He let out a little smirk and took note of how your body was responding to his touch. He started to massage your lower back, where most of your pain was coming from. You let out some low moans as he relieved your tension. He knelt down close to your ear and whispered,

“You’re really liking this a lot, darling. You haven’t stopped moaning since I put my hands on you. You’re so needy—”

He gave you another kiss on the forehead.

“That’s starting to turn me on.”

You instantly felt shivers run down your spine. The way he was talking to you now was seriously starting to have an effect on you.

“You should really do something about that,” you said with a smirk, arching your back slightly so your ass pressed against his crotch. He let out a groan in response.

“Fuck, I always forget how desperate you get for me.”

He began to massage your thighs down to your calves, and at this angle, he noticed that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“No panties for me too? God, you’re such a slut.”

It had been forever since he talked to you like this. He was always so good with his words and knew exactly what to say to get you going. You shifted in place and whimpered at his words. He noticed that and stopped massaging you, then started to kiss all over your legs. He was painfully slow on purpose because he knew how badly you’d been wanting this.

“Your body is absolutely amazing, honey. I love every inch of you, and I just can’t get enough—”

He moved up to your thighs, now only inches away from your pussy.

“Especially these pretty thighs. God, I want you to crush me with them.”

His words drove you into a frenzy. He always loved to worship the ground you walked on and especially loved to express how much he adored your body. His hot breath was only inches away from your cunt as he took off your nightgown, exposing your ass. He grabbed both of your cheeks in his hands and shoved his face deep into your pussy without warning. His actions caught you off guard, and you let out a loud moan. Without mercy, he began to eat at your cunt, lifting your ass in the air and smothering his face into you. You started to grip the sheets and buried your face into the pillow to suppress all the noises you were making. He then flipped you onto your back and placed both of your legs on his shoulders.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. It’s just us tonight, remember?” You deserve all of this, and I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Everything about this whole situation was making you flustered, and all you could do was nod your head in response. He instantly went back to eating you out, and you were moaning at how good it felt. You began to squeeze your thighs around his face, just as he had pleaded for you to do before. You pulled at his hair to go deeper into you as he sucked on your clit.

“P-please go faster.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, and he instantly picked up the pace. But he wanted to add more stimulation, so he shoved one of his fingers inside you. You threw your head back in bliss and let out a scream of pleasure. You felt so good in this moment, and this was exactly what you needed after the week you just had.

“You like this, honey?”

“F-fuck yes! P-please don’t stop—”

He started to slow down his pace and took his mouth off of you. You groaned in agony, not wanting him to slow down. He then proceeded to insert another finger and had his eyes locked on you.

“I just love seeing you get all restless and needy for me. It’s so cute.”

He started to pick up the pace a bit and thrust his two fingers deep inside you. You felt the coolness of his wedding ring against your aching cunt, and it added to your arousal as his palm pressed into you. He wore a cocky grin, fully aware of the effect he had on you. He knew that you were always the one in control at work and that you were assertive, but in the bedroom, he took charge, and you always melted under him. You appreciated it, though, because it was kind of an escape from the outside world. You loved how easily he could make you submit.

All of a sudden, he placed his thumb against your clit and started vigorously rubbing it. You moaned out loud once again, and he started laughing.

“God, you really love all this. We should do this more often, don’t you think?”

You were too lost in your own little world to even register anything he was saying right now. He then added a third finger to grab your attention.

“You need to listen to me when I talk to you.”

How could you even respond when he was utterly overwhelming you at your core? You could barely form coherent sentences.

“Fine, I-I agree with y-you, and we should do this—”

Before you could finish what you were saying, he replaced his thumb with his mouth again and started to suck on your clit. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, and you pulled at his hair again, enclosing your thighs around his face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head; this was heaven for him. 

“Ahh, I’m c-close!”

You felt him smirk beneath you as he started to go at it with his fingers and tongue. You eventually reached your breaking point, finishing all over his face. You even got some on the sheets, and you felt so embarrassed. You were going to grab some tissues from your bedside table to wipe his face when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above you. He looked down at you with so much lust in his eyes that it was starting to turn you on again.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I was going to clean up the mess I made on your face.”

He instantly began to lick your juices off his face, savoring your taste while wearing the biggest smirk.

“Why would you need to do that, honey?”

He knelt down to your ear and whispered, “When I said I love every part of you, I mean every part.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine from his words. You knew exactly what he meant when he said it, and it showed that he really loved everything about you. He kissed you on the lips, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could still taste yourself on his lips, which made you feel even more flustered.

“How can I not resist you when you taste so good, sweetie?”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, feeling shy around him. He was the only one who truly made you feel that way. You both turned to the side, and you felt him place a hand around your body, gently caressing your back. He made you feel so comforted and loved.

“Oh, we’re not done, by the way.”

You looked at him with a confused expression as you saw him start to get on top of you. You looked down and noticed his hard-on through his sweats.

“I still haven’t gotten to properly please you.”

“But you just gave me head… I don’t think I’m ready for a round two—”

He took off his sweatpants completely, and you noticed that he also wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He was just as bad as you.

He starts to rub his cock against your wet pussy, and you feel yourself arching back against him.

“I don’t know, sweetie. You seem to want this really bad. Besides—”

Without any warning or hesitation, he shoves himself inside of you.

“I’m the one who’s making you feel good tonight, so be a good girl for me and take it.”

God, how does he always make you feel butterflies in your stomach? You felt so submissive to him at that moment and didn’t want to talk back at all. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to thrust into you, taking his time with a slow and sensual pace. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Although you usually liked it rough and fast, tonight he wanted to savor every moment and take his time with you.

He was trying to make love.

It’s moments like this that make him think back to your wedding night. The way you looked at him made him fall for you all over again. Giving yourself to him felt amazing and made him want to care for and cherish you forever.

Back in the present, he was determined to make you feel just as good as you did on the night of your wedding. He starts to kiss you once again as he drives himself deeper into you. He begins to pick up the pace a bit and hits a certain area. He feels you moan against his lips and tighten around him.

“Mhm, does it feel good when I fuck you right here?”

He gripped the headboard with one hand and began to thrust into you, hitting that one spot perfectly. You couldn't help but moan loudly, reveling in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Y-yes, p-please don’t stop…”

He loved watching you melt around him. Seeing you like this for him drove him wild. As he began kissing your neck, you moaned at his touch, relishing the pleasure he was giving you in multiple places at once. He knew exactly how to overstimulate you. You began to scratch his back, urging him to thrust harder and faster.  Letting go of the headboard, he gripped your love handles with both hands and bullied his way deeper inside you.

“God, honey, you feel so good around me.”

You loved the way he praised you and never wanted him to stop. You threw your head back in pleasure against the pillow, you babbled his name in bliss as he increased his pace. He returned to kissing you, moving down to your chest. He was so enamored by you that he could hardly believe you were his wife. There were times when he felt he didn't deserve you, but in moments like this, he felt completely reassured. Grabbing both of your ankles, he pushed them back toward your head, placing you in a mating press. Then, he began to kiss and suckle on your boobs. You screamed his name at the sudden sensation on your chest.

“Fuck, y-you make me f-feel so good, Hyuck.”

He loves to hear you call him by his nickname; it makes him melt for you immediately.

“And you look so good taking me, baby. Keep telling me how good I make you feel.”

You always feel a bit shy when it comes to talking in intimate moments like this. You both can be pretty vocal, but he’s particularly good with his words.

“I love the way you make me feel, and I don’t want you to stop.”

He went straight for your lips and gave you a passionate kiss.

“I love you so much, honey; don’t you ever forget that.” You nodded in response and said that you loved him too.

“God, you look so pretty it makes me want to put another baby inside of you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, looked him dead in the eyes, and said, 

“What’s stopping you from doing it now, love?”

He instantly wanted to cum for you right then and there. He started kissing you again and thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

“Fuck, you feel amazing around me. I’m getting close.”

“Me too. P-please cum inside of me.”

He pushed your legs all the way back, hitting that special spot in your wet warmth. You started to dig your nails into his back, and you gave in before him, cumming all over his cock.

“Mhm, atta girl, let it all out for me.”

You couldn’t stop screaming in pleasure and buried your face in the crook of his neck once again. Not long after you came, he did too, fucking you through your orgasm. You felt so overstimulated that it made you squirt all over his cock. Your mixed juices covered the sheets and his pelvis, including his happy trail. You felt flustered and embarrassed, as this was the first time anything like this had happened to you.

“Oh my god, honey, I’m sorry for making such a mess! Let me go and clean this up—”

He silences you with a deep kiss, wrapping his arms around you. Gently, he lifts you onto him, holding you tightly at the waist.

“Baby, I think that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done.”

You were taken aback by his statement but weren’t surprised. He was obsessed with everything about you, and something like this wouldn’t make him bat an eye. He starts to kiss your forehead and draws circles against your back with his fingertips, making you wince at his touch.

You felt so flustered in this situation that you buried your face in your hands and said, “I can’t believe I just did that.” He grabbed both of your wrists and pushed your hands away from your face so he could see you. He gave you another kiss on the lips and smiled back at you. “I told you it’s okay, baby, and to be honest, I wish you had done that sooner.”

You gave him a deadpan look, not wanting to react at all.

“Hey, what can I say? I’m just madly in love with you, and I’m just glad I brought you this much pleasure. Especially with the stressful week you had, I had to make you feel good.”

“And I thank you for that. Now, what are we going to do about all this?”

You both looked down at your mixed fluids, then looked back at each other and started to laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, darling; I’ll take care of it. But first—”

He rose from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water for both of you. When he returned to the bedroom, he lifted you in a bridal carry and brought you into the steamy oasis, gently setting you down in the tub.

“Now I’ll be back; I’m going to change the sheets on the bed and join you, okay, love?”

You nodded your head and watched as he walked back into the bedroom.

You were so glad to have a caring husband like Haechan…

[enha-stars]

✧ Matchy, matchy ; S.J

Pairing: Bf!Jake x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: To be loved is to be known. And you were. And he was, too. You knew him and he knew you, and neither of you would have it any other way.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, down bad jake, down bad reader, freak: matched (lovingly), abandoned food, kissing, suggestive, gift giving as a love language,

A/n: happy anniversary to my beloved, @karinasbaby . My love for her inspired this, so… comeback?? Possibly. Stay tuned.

In the dimly lit, slightly damp hallway, Jake carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open with the gentlest of nudges to avoid any noise. He slipped inside his apartment, his footsteps silent against the hardwood floor. The soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warmth hue over the room.

He was about to head to your shared bedroom when an enticing aroma caught his attention, causing him to stop mid-step. His heart skipped a beat as he realized the source of the delightful smell was in fact, coming from his kitchen.

Tip-toeing closer, Jake poked his head into the kitchen to the sight of you standing at the stove, your back turned to him. You were humming a soft tune, completely absorbed in your cooking. The sight of you, dressed in one of his old t-shirts, hair loosely tied up, glasses resting on your head, made his heart swell until it almost burst out of his chest. 

Jake’s lips curved into a bright smile as he quietly moved towards you, setting the gift bag down by the wall. Careful not to make a sound, he reached your side and paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The table was set for two, candles ready to be lit, and the counters were adorned with fresh ingredients. Jake recognized the variety on the table and his smile widened. He knew what avocados and limes meant and his stomach rumbled.

Unable to resist any longer, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You let out a small gasp of surprise, dropping the spoon you were holding as you turned your head to look at him, heart beating rapidly and eyes wide.

“Jake! Oh my gosh,” you exhaled, trying to catch your breath. “You scared me.” The smile that had twisted onto your lips and the sparkle in your shiny eyes told him that he had the same affect on you that you had on him. 

Jake kissed your cheek softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, angel.” He did, and she knew it, too. “I just couldn’t resist.” 

You laughed, a sound he was sure the tides pushed towards because you were a celestial being to him, bright and unearthly. If he could bottle your laugh and drink it, have it swim in his veins forever, he would. 

“Well, I missed you and I wanted to surprise you. How was the harbor?” You picked up the spoon once more and stirred the pot of beans and ground meat. Knowing this mood of his, you turned off the stove. 

You wouldn’t be eating anytime soon, anyways. 

“It was okay,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. “Riki fell into the water but it only reached his hips.” He grinned against your skin when you snickered. He could feel your body shake beneath his hands and he pressed himself against you tighter. “I missed you, baby.” 

You turned in his arms, facing him fully. Your eyes met his and you could feel every ounce of stress, every fleeting miscellaneous thought, fade away. His eyes, shiny and sparkling, held yours with nothing but heat and affection. 

Jake swallowed, afraid to blink. He was afraid that if he blinked, you may disappear. It didn’t matter how long he had you, he wanted you for longer. He wanted forever. Eternity, even, if he could ask for it. 

Your eyes glazed over his face, taking him in after not seeing him for a few hours. There was a small smudge of dirt under his right eye and you did the only thing you could do. Holding his chin in place, you licked your thumb and rubbed the dirt off his face. 

Jake stared at you feverishly, eyes on your face; taking in the way you slightly pouted your lips, sticking your tongue out a bit. It was a habit you had learned from him, one he cursed himself for all the time.

“There,” you mumbled to yourself. “All clean.” You dropped your hands to his chest and met his gaze. The warmth in it almost made your legs buckle but his grip held you upright. 

“I love you,” he said. Before you could say anything, he dipped his head towards yours. His lips hovered above your own as he whispered, “I got you something.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head up, trying to meet his lips but he stayed slightly out of reach, forever teasing you. “Yeah? What’d you get me?”

Jake almost gave in, feeling your warm breath against his lips. He wanted to kiss you until you forgot your name, but he enjoyed this. He enjoyed making you wait, the push and pull.

“It’s a surprise,” he mumbled. “You have to sit on the couch.” His lips briefly, for the lightest of seconds, brushed against yours and you almost whined out his name. 

“Jake,” you exhaled, eyes squeezed shut. Jake loved you like this; all bothered and slightly desperate for him. Usually, he was the one like this, the one on the cusp of begging and asking. When he got you like this, oh, you looked stunning. “Come on,” you tried. “Tell me.” 

Jake simply shook his head, his lips brushing against yours tantalizing. “Gotta wait, angel.” His lips curled upwards at the small noise of frustration you made and he stepped back, hands dropping to his side. He watched with heated eyes as you blinked back into yourself. He loved being the only one to have you like this. 

Before he could take another step back, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together. You swallow his slight gasp of surprise and smile against his lips as he melts into it, hands cupping the sides of your face as your lips move harshly against each other. 

Unable to help himself, Jake steps forward and pushes you backwards until your back is flush against the counter. The slight dig makes you gasp in pleasurable pain and he slips his tongue inside your mouth, laying claim to what already belongs to him. He grips the counter, caging you in.

You clutch his shirt, lips moving roughly against his. Jake slots his knee between your legs and the new pressure manages to pull a breathy moan out of you. Jake pulls away, eyes still shut as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a string of saliva that connects your bruised lips and he presses his lips against yours softly, licking your lips clean. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. He opens his eyes and almost groans at the sight of you; breathing deeply, lips red and plump, eyes slightly dazed. You looked almost fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

You laughed at his words and slid your hands up to the base of his neck. “So, this gift…” 

Grinning, Jake nipped at your lips before stepping back. “Go sit on the couch, pretty.” He simply shook his head when you frowned at him and he watched you reluctantly walk out of the kitchen and into the living room with eyes filled to the brim with adoration. 

He waited until he heard you fall back onto the couch. Even then, you called out and let him know you were sitting. He was sure his heart was going to burst out his ribs and break through his skin with the amount of love and affection he felt for you. 

Grabbing the small gift bag, Jake made his way to you. When you heard his footsteps, you straightened your back and turned to face him, giving him your utmost attention. Jake often gifted you small, minuscule things, and you loved and appreciated every single thing. It was how he loved, and so you always made sure to focus on him and what his gift was telling you. 

Kneeling down in front of you, he looked up at you as you shifted to the edge of the sofa. You spread your legs a bit and he shuffled between them. His lips twisted and you pinched his nose, immediately seeing the flicker of heat and desire that spread through his eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” you warned. 

“Jokes on you,” he smirked. “I’m always thinking about it.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him and traced the outline of his lips. “Freak.” 

“Matched,” he countered, licking your finger when you pressed it down on his bottom lip. 

You both grinned at each other before he cleared his throat and lifted the gift bag, moving it towards you. Gently, like it was made of gold, which to you, it practically was, you grabbed it and set it down on your thigh. 

Jake watched you curiously as you picked the gift wrapping sheets out of the bag. He stopped breathing momentarily when you reached into the bag and pulled out a small, coffee coloured teddy bear plushie. 

His eyes, which could never and would never stray from you, focused on your expression; the way your eyes widened in surprise and then fondness, the way your small smile twisted into a wide grin before your lips parted in content. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, the way your eyes crinkled. 

You looked so happy, so adorable as you gently patted the bear's head. Lost in the gift, you barely noticed Jake’s warm gaze and the way he shuffled forward, resting his cheek against your other thigh. He was more than pleased with staring at you like this forever. 

“Jake,” you whispered, pulling him out of his staring. He blinked and lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his face. With one hand, you held the bear tightly. With the other, you brushed his hair out his face, smiling a little wobbly. “I love him. What’s the special occasion?” 

Jake shrugged, slightly overcome with emotion. He didn’t think he would be, but you had that effect on him. “It’s uh, well,” he licked his lips. “I saw him at the harbor and thought of you. I knew I had to win it for you.” 

You stared at him, eyes widening at his words before you bit your bottom lip. You glanced at the bear in your hands and let out a quiet chuckle. At the sound, Jake looked back at you, eyes sparkling. 

“Jake,” you sighed. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes shut automatically and he breathed out in content. “This is actually really funny,” you murmured against his skin. 

“Hm?”

Pulling away, you set the bear down beside you and tapped his head twice. He opened his eyes and frowned in confusion when you motioned for him to move. Looking like a kicked puppy, he shuffled backwards and gave you enough space to get up. 

From the carpet, he watched you as you walked to the breakfast table. You pulled a chair back and grabbed something he couldn’t see. Hiding the item from his sight, you turned to face him. There was a twinkle in your eye, one he loved to see but didn’t understand. 

“Sit up on the couch for me, baby.” You motioned him to get up with your head and like the obedient boyfriend he was, he pushed himself off the carpet and fell back onto the sofa. 

Satisfied, you walked towards him, hiding the item behind your back. Jake tried to glance around you but with one look, he sulked into the couch, crossing his arms. Tsking, you sank to your knees and he immediately spread his legs. 

Your eyes traveled from his thighs up to his eyes and his eyes crinkled in amusement, an arrogant smirk ghosting on his lips. “Thinking about it, aren’t you, angel?”

You licked your lips, trying to focus on the present in your hands. “Don’t be freaky right now, Jake. We’re trying to be sentimental.” 

“So you are thinking about it,” he mused, spreading his legs further. You blinked and tried to ignore his tactics. It wasn’t even your fault really, not when his feelings and excitement were practically staring right in the face. 

Clearing your throat, you pinched his thigh to get his mind out of the gutter. Once the lust in his eyes died down a bit, you smiled bashfully at him. 

“What’re you hiding, angel? What’s in your hand?” He tried to hide the curiosity in his voice but you caught it. Because, while he liked to give you things, you also liked to give him things. Despite his calm demeanor, you knew he was always excited. Just like you were. 

Gosh, the stars really did love you both. 

“Well,” you started. “It’s funny that you got me that bear because I…” When your explanation fell short, you brought the bear in your hand towards Jake, handing it to him. He stared at the chocolate covered teddy bear in pure astonishment, almost like it couldn’t be real. 

You shuffled forward, resting your hand on his thigh. Rubbing small circles on his skin, you tried to ground him. Despite getting small gifts from you all the time, he took them each to heart. You wondered when he would accept the love he deserved. 

With a gentleness that made your stomach tingle, he held the bear carefully in his hand. It was small in his hands, but the weight of it felt almost overwhelming. You watched as his eyes glistened with something adoring, the way his lips parted prettily, curving into a smile so bright and beautiful it could have blinded you. 

“Angel,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “why did you… how?” With soft, featherlike fingers, he caressed the bear as if it was your skin. His eyes were filled with wonder and if you could have captured this moment in its exactness, you would have lived in it. 

“I saw it the other day while I was shopping. It reminded me of you so I bought it.” 

Your words snapped something in him and he set the bear down, eyes ablaze. You barely got enough time to look at him before he scooped you into his arms and set you in his lap. Blinking, you stared at him, dumbfounded. 

With your legs on either side of him, you shuffled a bit closer until you were comfortable. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

His lips wobbled and he brushed his nose against yours. “Hi, angel.” 

“So, do you like the bear I got you?” 

Pressing a kiss to your jaw, he nodded. “I love it so much. So, so, much. I can’t believe we got matching plushies accidentally.” 

You laughed and kissed the edge of his smile, wanting to bask in it forever. “We match each other's freaks so well. We’re practically soulmates at this point.” 

Pulling away, he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “The fuck you mean practically? We are soulmates. I’m marrying you. We’re going to die together and be buried together in one casket.” 

“Oh.” You grinned at him. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” 

He tiled your head upwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Then, he grabbed both of the bears and handed you yours while he kept his close to his chest. “What are you naming him?” 

You hummed in thought and stared at the bear in your hand. Naming your plushies was important to you. Names were important, and they had to be meaningful. Jake shouldn’t have been so turned on while watching you think of a name for a plushie, but he was. He knew you could feel it, but, having your priorities straight, you ignored him. 

“I kind of like Buoy.” 

Jake blinked at you before he softly laughed, amazed at your naming ability. “Buoy?” 

“Yeah, Buoy. Named after that slightly orange buoy by the harbor. That, and you’re my anchor. Always keeping me afloat and all.” 

Jake wasn’t a crier, but the amount of times he had almost burst into years tonight had hit a new record. Trying to swallow the emotion that bubbled in his throat, he rested his head against your chest, hiding in your embrace. You laughed at his antics and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“What about you? What are you naming her?” 

Jake lifted his head and the look in his eyes made you hold your breath. You could feel every single vein in your body vibrate and you knew you were in for a long night. 

“I’m naming her Quesadilla.” The seriousness in his voice threw you off and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or clap him on the back. Instead, you simply raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Why Quesadilla?” 

“I’m naming her that in honour of the quesadillas we won’t be eating tonight.” 

“What are you–” You were cut off by Jake tightening his grip on you and flipping you over. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as you found yourself lying beneath him on the couch, his body hovering over yours.

You weren’t sure where your bears had gone, but that was the least of your worries. Jake leaned down, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart beat in your ears.  “I’m only hungry for you tonight, pretty girl.” His lips hovered above your own and your throat went dry. 

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek as you smiled up at him. “Have me then, Jake.” 

Jake’s expression softened and he closed the distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was a simple tease, a highlight as to how the night was going to go, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You would, after all, have your fun after he had his. 

[ryanguzmanscowlick]

The thing is, Tommy’s worried about Evan coming over to his house for the first time. He’s seen Evan’s loft. It’s all clean lines, modern appliances and details. What little sentimental odds and ends he owns are tucked away or so subtle than Tommy didn’t spot them the first couple of times he came over.

Tommy’s house, by contrast, is filled with the detritus one accumulates when they’ve gone no contact with everyone related to them and they’re trying to create a homey, family atmosphere out of thrift stores and the Pottery Barn catalogue instead of friends and family.

He’s a knick-knacker, an antique furniture collector, a throw pillow and afghan fanatic.

He doesn’t have much in the way of books, but he has shelves and shelves of notebooks, some full, some half-used, some untouched. It’s a habit he picked up when his first ever therapist (after he left the 118) coaxed him into writing everything down to make a little sense of the mess of contradictions, phobias, old prejudices, prejudices still clinging on and traumas that made it feel impossible to figure out what to talk about first when he sat down in that office.

There’s a small, awkward section of wall in his kitchen created when a previous owner of the house decided to add a laundry room (embarrassingly, his favorite room in the house for it’s sheer utility) and that’s where Tommy hangs his collection of coffee mugs. Some of them are Goodwill finds, some souvenirs, some band merch or creations by local artists he picked up at some market or other.

There’s five different varieties of protein powder constantly cluttering his kitchen counter because he ran out of room in the small pantry. His pots and pans hang over the tiny, rolling kitchen island, which is itself nearly taken over by a serving tray that holds his water filter, a candle, a decorative planter filled with his cooking utensils, a plastic case of toothpicks.

He still has a dvd collection, for heaven’s sake, and it takes up most of his sagging entertainment center. He should replace it, but it’s the first piece of furniture he ever restored and he’s having trouble letting go. Speaking of letting go, there’s a dog bed in the corner for a dog that passed away nearly ten months ago. He probably will at least hide that in a closet before Evan gets here.

Because he is coming over. No matter how nervous Tommy is, he’s not gonna come up with another excuse for why they have to postpone or meet at Evan’s instead. He gets the feeling he’s already made Evan a little wary, and with Evan’s relationship history and his fear of being too much, not enough, just left, Tommy will eat his own foot before he purposely exacerbates Evan’s fears.

If Evan looks around and decides Tommy is a hoarder or a slob or a million other nasty epithets Tommy’s brain is offering up like some cruel, self-sabotaging buffet- Well, they’ll talk about it. They’ll learn and adjust. Evan has never, ever been cruel to Tommy and it’s quite frankly laughable that he would start now.

That’s what Tommy tells the rogue half of his brain trying to rain on their parade. Another thing he picked up from his therapist - name the part of you that spews negative self-talk and talk back to it. Predictably, Tommy named his Vince. Shut the fuck up, Vince.

Evan’s shift ended twenty minutes ago and Tommy has chili on the stove keeping warm. Between showering and the drive over, Evan should be due at his door in another twenty-five or so. Tommy hides the dog bed, lights the kitchen candle, tries to find things to do with his hands so he doesn't watch the time like a hawk. They’ve had conflicting shifts for almost two weeks with only stolen moments and half-asleep kisses in between. Tommy misses his boyfriend. But a watched clock never ticks, or whatever.

His strategy works, because Evan’s knock on the front door actually startles him a little from the stack of unopened mail he’s sorting through. So many flyers for what feels like every home decor and craft store in the state.

Evan’s eyes are gentle and joyful when Tommy answers the door. “Hey.” He leans in to squeeze Tommy’s bicep and press a kiss to the wing of his cheek. Tommy can feel Evan’s mouth stretch into a smile against his skin.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy wiggles his fingers under the strap of Evan’s duffel to take it from him and steps aside to let him into the house. His heart thuds in his chest.

Evan surrenders his bag and steps into Tommy’s home for the first time. If he notices Tommy holding his breath, he doesn’t comment yet.

He takes a look around while Tommy tries to look anywhere but his face. He doesn’t want to let on that he’s being a complete lunatic about this, that he let his anxiety take over for the better part of the day.

When Evan turns around to face Tommy again and slides his hands over Tommy’s waist, presses his fingers into Tommy’s back, nudging them closer together, his smile has split into a full grin. Tommy can’t help reflexively smiling in return. He can feel his cheeks flooding with warmth. It should be embarrassing that Evan still makes Tommy blush at the drop of a hat even all these months later, but if it helps Evan know deep in his bones that Tommy is gone for him, Tommy wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“It looks like you.” Evan draws his hands up and down Tommy’s torso in gentle strokes. “Cozy. Warm. Like…” He trails off and bites his lip, drops his eyes to Tommy’s chest.

Tommy hooks his fingers under Buck’s chin and lifts his gaze back up until their eyes meet in a move that’s become so routine it’s pretty much an inside joke between them. “Like what? Don’t leave me hanging.”

It’s Evan turn to flush a deep pink. He takes an unsteady breath in. “L-like home.”

An immense weight lifts off Tommy’s chest so quickly it almost steals his breath, but Evan has tensed up just a fraction, so Tommy hums softly, spreads his big hands over Buck’s wide shoulders and digs his fingers in to massage the tension back out. He slides deeper into Evan’s space to take his mouth in a chaste, lingering kiss, and he murmurs against his lips. “Glad to hear it.”