#I love him truly madly deeply he's so beautiful

[peachsayshi]

I am opening up requests for Geto! I miss writing for my pretty boy

please send smut requests to my side blog @sourpeachsayshi

(note: playboy geto x reader is in the works, I finally have an outline together but I want to write other things for him and could use some Inso x)

[crossbackpoke-check]

the pics of morgan and joel are from travis sanheim's wedding this weekend!

^^^me experiencing the one-two knockout punch of “oh they WERE each other’s wedding date” followed by the realization that sanny finally got married 🥹😭 cheers indeed!!!

[katiascraft]

"This is how you fall in love" | OP81

parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.

Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.

Word count: +1,2k

Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.

Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.

Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.

You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.

He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.

Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.

In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.

He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.

He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.

He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.

“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.

“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.

“Me too my love” you said softly.

You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.

You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.

Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.

Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.

Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.

Maybe this is how you fall in love.

How you two fell in love every single day.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[jemiswumbo]

she’s out of her mind

luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader

anon prompt: Hey babes! I saw your post about wanting prompts and I was wondering you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hades! Reader where it's like sunshine (Luke) x grumpy (Reader) trope?

authors note: hello i am back with a small drabble for the cute prompt above! i got drunk off of applebees dollaritas and wrote this in 15mins so do with that information what you will. hope you enjoy! :)

title is from she’s out of her mind by blink-182. lyrics are a lil fitting.

warnings: none? i think? it’s just fluff, i think. sort of.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

You groaned low and deep, releasing a guttural sound full of pure agony. Rolling over on your (extremely warm, cozy, sleep inducing) bed, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Luke Castellan, who was currently opening up the curtains in your cabin.

Being the only child of Hades at the camp, the entire cabin was sparse and empty, save for the corner you called home. There was a bed with black sheets and blanket, a side table full of the few memorabilia you had to your name, and a dresser beside that which held your extensive collection of black clothing. The walls resembled the inner workings of a cavern; slick rock prodded with small bones and beautiful jewels encapsulated the bedroom areas. Sconces held lit torches burning bright with turquoise Greek fire.

Your favourite part of the cabin, though, was the specially-crafted blackout curtains that were typically drawn tight over the windows. Not even a sliver of light could penetrate the thick, black, velvet drapes. That was, until, your idiot boyfriend took it upon himself to draw them open. The harsh blades of sunlight violated your eyes, illiciting your pained groan. You hated it when people interrupted your sleep.

“Luke,” You whined, shoving your face into your pillow, hoping to evade the blinding light. “Let me sleep, please, for the love of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Luke said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice without needing to see his (cute, devilishly handsome) face. “Anyways, it’s 9am! You’ve slept in long enough and I wanna have breakfast with you and your pretty face.” Luke flopped down on the bed beside you and flipped your body back over with ease, in a foolish attempt to force you into the world of the living.

Typical for a child of Death, you kept your eyes squeezed shut and pounded the bedsheet with your fist. “I will literally, genuinely, actually murder you without hesitation if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Luke said, pressed a small kiss to your nose. You swatted him away with anger.

Any other (normal, rational, smart) kid at camp would’ve soiled their pants and fled in terror from such a threat uttered by the one and only daughter of Hades. You were capable of a simple killing — you were graciously bestowed the gift of sucking out the souls of mortals with a mere flick of the wrist — and so it was only logical to fear such a ghastly claim. Luke, however, had realized early on in your Camp days that you were full of shit and would never hurt a fly. He took an opportunity to befriend you and you’d been dating for a few years now. You were (truly, madly, deeply) in love with him and yes, despite your immense hatred for morning sunlight, you would never actually hurt him.

“Come on,” he prodded again, cuddling up beside you and tapping your forehead mischievously. You mustered the courage to crack open one eye (barely) and saw him grinning down at you. “Wake up, baby. Let’s get breakfast and then spend the day at the docks. We can swim and sun bathe and have a picnic—“

“Gods, you’re ambitious today,” you grumbled, rolling back over to face the opposite direction of Luke (and, the open windows), allowing him to grab your waist and pull you up against his chest. “I hate being in the sun. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I like to try new things with you,” Luke said, peppering a few kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, squeezing his taut arm around your torso. “And I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

“Perv,” you mumbled, but deep down you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, causing a crimson blush to bloom over your chest. “Give me another hour to sleep.”

“No,” Luke said, and now it was his turn to groan impatiently. “Please, now, for me? I love you and want to spend time with you.”

“I hate you and want you to leave me alone,” you replied, pulling your fluffy duvet back up over your shoulders. “Bed time.”

“Beach time,” Luke decided. He sat up slightly and ripped the blankets entirely off your form, exposing your body to the cold air of the morning.

You shrieked. “Luke, you asshole—“

Luke jumped out of the bed, smiling wide. He gathered up all the blankets up into his arms, much to your dismay, and held them away from you. You only wore shorts and a tank top to sleep last night, and the chill in the room froze you right to your bones. Luke bundled up the bedding into a ball and fired it across the room. “There, now you’re acclimated.”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

“You are a grouchy, sleepy demon who needs breakfast and vitamin D.”

“Ugh!” You exploded, finally shoving yourself out of bed in a fit of exasperation. Luke had the audacity to applaud you. “Okay, there, I’m up!”

“So proud of you, my sleeping beauty,” Luke remarked. He crossed the room to you and placed a tender kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Sorry for being rude,” You murmured, after having kissed him back. “I love you. I just don’t love being woken up.”

“I know,” Luke said with a grin. “I actually think you’re cute when your grumpy, so I do it on purpose to bug you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smirk from appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever. You promised breakfast and I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Luke mimicked your playful eyeroll. He took your hand, leading you out the door and towards the dining pavilion.

note 2: hi hi! if you read this and enjoyed it and maybe want to read more from me, i would super appreciate prompts and requests sent to my inbox! can’t guarantee i’ll write them all but i will for sure try my best! thanks for reading! :)

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Truly Madly Deeply

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is madly in love with a married woman.

CW: FLUFFFFFF (Happy Valentine's Day, my loves!!)

WC: 1300+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s love is in the air tgm challenge! Inspired by the song Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.

Masterlist

“Sorry, I’m married,” Bradley hears you say to the man who’s just offered to buy you a drink. He glances over his shoulder just in time to witness your suitor’s face fall in disappointment. He notices that you give him an apologetic smile and it melts Bradley’s heart that you’re being so sweet to a complete stranger.

He eyes you discreetly as you wave with a couple of fingers at the man now departing sullenly. You turn on your stool to face the bar, revealing the deep plunge of your dress which exposes your exquisite back, and Bradley can’t help but stare at you in admiration. He smiles to himself, biting into his lip. “Married, huh?” he asks, leaning his forearms into the bar.

You glance over at him in surprise.

“And here I thought I could buy you a drink,” Bradley says with a sideways grin.

You stare at him for a moment before letting out a small chuckle.

“Who’s the lucky guy, anyway?” he asks, looking around the bar.

“Strange,” you reply, craning your neck to look over Bradley’s shoulder. “He was just here.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Ill-timed departure on his part,” he says, meeting your gaze. “I would never let a woman like you out of my sight.”

You giggle. “He’s around, I’m sure.”

Bradley watches you mischievously. “And yet,” he says, getting out of his seat. “We can’t let an opportunity such as this pass us by.” He holds out his hand to you.

You give him a piercing look and hook one of your eyebrows. “And what opportunity would that be?”

“Come on.” Bradley grins at you. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you letting me have one dance.”

“You’re probably right, actually.” You shrug. “My husband’s not really the jealous type.”

“Really?” Bradley asks incredulously as you stand up. “He should be.”

You chuckle. “He trusts me.”

Bradley’s eyes sweep over your features when you glance up at him and he tries to recall the last time he’s encountered such beauty. You are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. But this fact doesn’t intimidate him in the slightest. He takes your hand and draws you out onto the open floor, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You smile when he takes you by the waist. “Now I feel bad for sending that other guy away,” you say. “If I’m just handing out dances.”

Bradley makes a face. “He wasn’t trying hard enough,” he says. “See, I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

You laugh. “Is that so?”

Bradley nods. “You know what else?”

“What?” you ask suspiciously as the two of you move gently to the distant music of the jukebox.

“I’m going to kiss you when this song is over,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows as your mouth falls open in shock. “You mean, assuming I’ll let you!”

Bradley’s gaze drops briefly to your lips. “You’ll let me.”

You shake your head with a scandalized smile.

“Think your husband would mind?” he asks.

You fix him with a more serious look. “What do you think?”

“You said he wasn’t the jealous type.”

You lower your gaze and lick your top lip before lifting your eyes temptingly. “My husband would fucking lose it if he saw me making out with a stranger on the dance floor.”

Bradley bites his lip, chuckling. “I bet.”

You roll your eyes, a smile still playing on your face, and Bradley just about loses it himself.

“What’ll it take for you to come home with me?” he asks boldly.

You give him a pointed glance and he pulls you slightly closer. “Gee, let me think,” you respond playfully.

Bradley chuckles. “I’ll do anything,” he says in a low voice, his mouth moving right over your temple.

You shake your head and look up at him. “You’re bad,” you say with a grin.

Bradley brings his face down to meet yours, his arms coming up to wrap around your back. He draws you closer until your head is resting on his chest. “I’m so in love with you,” he breathes.

You giggle into his chest and his heart performs a series of somersaults against your cheek. Your hands snake underneath his open Hawaiian shirt to meet behind his back. “You’re ridiculous,” you respond calmly.

Bradley kisses the top of your head. “I love you more with every breath,” he whispers.

You raise your head slightly and he can feel the warmth of your mouth on his neck. “I think you’re alright,” you say gently.

Bradley snorts, his arms tightening around you. He rests his cheek on your head, his fingers grazing your bare back. “I could hold you forever,” he mutters. “Can’t I just hold you forever?”

He feels you relax further into his embrace. “Okay,” you respond softly.

Bradley’s arms constrict around your body, and he plants several kisses on your forehead. “I bet you’re way out of your husband’s league,” he says with a heavy rasp as his hand starts travelling up and down your waist.

You laugh. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bradley’s hand stops moving abruptly and comes to rest of your hip. “You love him?”

You give Bradley an earnest glance. “Very much,” you say.

Bradley eyes you curiously. “How the fuck did he land a woman like you?”

You laugh. “Well,” you say, “for one thing, he’s unbelievably sexy.”

Bradley smirks. “I bet he isn’t half as sexy as you are.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s smart, and funny, and sweet, and a little crazy sometimes.”

Bradley laughs. “Sounds pretty basic, if you ask me.”

You give him a tight smile, trying to hold back a laugh. “And his confidence is off the charts.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “Can he take me?”

You let out a giggle. “He wouldn’t,” you say. “He’s not the jealous type, remember?”

Bradley gives you a skeptical look. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I think your husband would absolutely annihilate anybody who would dare lay a hand on you.”

You watch him with a tantalising smirk. “Is that what you would do?”

Bradley meets your gaze and responds firmly, “No question.”

You rest your head back on his chest and let out a contented sigh when the first notes of a very familiar song ring out through the bar. Bradley looks up to see Jake Seresin winking at him from where he’s standing by the jukebox. Bradley smirks, nodding at his friend in appreciation. Meanwhile, you start humming to the melody absently while Bradley sways you gently from side to side.

When the bridge kicks in, Bradley sings along, “Oh, can you see it, baby? You don’t have to close your eyes. It’s standing right before you…”

You detach yourself partially and look up at him. “I’ve always loved this song,” you say.

Bradley tenderly runs his fingers along the side of your face. “I know, baby,” he says.

“My husband’s not a big fan,” you say with a playful grin.

“Oh, no?” Bradley lifts eyebrows.

“I had to beg him to make this our wedding song.”

“He made you beg?” Bradley asks in outrage.

“Mm-hm.” You nod. “Can you believe it?”

Bradley lowers his head and, placing his hands on either side of your face, brushes the tip of his nose against yours. “Something tells me your husband would do anything for you.”

You giggle. “If only I knew where he was.”

Bradley grins, biting the side of his lip. “Joke’s on him. He’s missing all the fun.”

You reach up to twist your fingers into Bradley’s shirt, pulling him closer. “You promised me a kiss.”

Bradley chuckles. “Oh, you want a kiss?”

You nod, humming in affirmation.

Bradley smirks, rolling his tongue along your open mouth before letting his lips finally make contact with yours. You whimper softly into his mouth and his chest nearly erupts with desire. He loves you so deeply, so madly, so – “You know, the song’s growing on me,” he mutters between kisses.

You laugh. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Bradley lets out a fevered sigh, his hands sliding down your arms as the song comes to an end. “Come on, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he says hoarsely, a bit impatiently. “I’m taking you home.”

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@annedub

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Perfect.

Pairing/AU: Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller X Curvy AFAB!reader , no outbreak.

Words count: 3612, One shot.

Summary: Basically Joel worshipping you and your curvy body ❤️

Warning: +18 only because there is a little bit of smut in the end (Joel 🍽️😺), nothing too serious but still. Reader is curvy, has wide hips, big breasts, has hair (not specified how long or what color it is or anything), has a freckle above her upper lip. Age not mentioned but they’re both fully grown adults. Joel is the cutest and loves you deeply like anyone has ever done before. (If I did things right you will end up crying a little bit, hopefully)

We talk about not accepting ourselves, seeing ourselves as ugly, having a bad relationship with a parent (mom), briefly about bullying and in general about how society perceives non-conforming bodies and how sometimes we convince ourselves that we are wrong. I don't go into much depth but there are still some passages that I feel are truly mine, so you are warned. I don’t want to trigger you, I want you to feel beautiful and valid and one of a kind and special. All of you.

I was toying myself with the idea of a story about Joel and a curvy reader and this came out. I wrote this at 2am after listening to “Pedro” and “Glow” by Omar Apollo with tears streaming down my face, it’s probably full of mistakes (English is not my first language, no beta reader because it’s 2 fucking am and I should sleep like everybody else in my time zone instead of doing this DAMN!) so I beg your pardon, my brain is a mess right now.

Most of all, I hope you will like it, let me know! Thanks to anyone who will read this.

You wake up in bed alone and you stretch your arm on the other side of the bed feeling it empty and cold.

Joel is out for work, meeting a big potential client who wants to renovate his huge mansion.

Obviously he has to try to get the job, but you feel like he's been forever away when he's only been gone for two days.

Your bed feels so large without him in it.

You grab his pillow to try to inhale his scent, just a little tiny bit of him that still lingers on it.

Your man smells amazing, even when he come home after a full day of working in a construction site you’re madly aroused by the minty, sweet, sweaty essence of him.

You don’t care that he’s covered in dust and rubble, you just throw yourself in his arms and take his mouth that rightfully belongs to you and only you and you feel so lucky and blessed to have him in your life.

You had so much troubles with your love life.

You’ve never been skinny, to begin with.

You always had a discomfort with your appearance, your friends were tiny and cute while you were just standing there being ignored.

You had a very almond mother that didn’t waste a chance to remind you how big you are, how much you need to take diet more seriously and become the skinny person every guy wants to marry.

You suffered from that until you were an adult and you could afford going to therapy.

It helped you a lot.

Embracing your body and shape was a long and difficult process but it was worth it.

You gained so much confidence and learned how to be kind to yourself.

But you still had difficulty with boys, growing up you learned to notice strange guys at first glance, after a series of failures with gym fanatics who wanted to change you, older men who wanted to control you and cowards who kept you hidden as if they were ashamed of you.

And then, one day, you met Joel.

While you were looking at him from the other side of the bar too shamed to do anything he walked towards you.

You immediately thought that he was coming to talk to your skinny friend that was with you but no.

He wanted to spoke to you.

That big strong man, broad chest and shoulders, wavy dark brown hair and eyes like the most delicious chocolate cake introduced himself and asked if you wanted something else to drink and the last thing you know you two were talking about everything for 3 hours straight, totally immersed in each other.

You barely noticed that your friend tap your shoulder to tell you that she was going home.

You mentally took a note to apologize profusely to her the following day but you really didn’t want to leave.

It felt too good to be with Joel, talking to him was so easy and he melted your heart in a way you didn’t experience in a long time.

You really didn’t want to give up on him.

You have so much in common with him and he made you laugh and you felt cute and confident and it really worked like magic.

He made sure to compliment your outfit and your hair and your pretty eyes and he made you feel so good about yourself.

You noticed the way he was smiling and looking so intensely at you, he was hungry and turned on by you.

You couldn’t believe that this handsome man was so into you but couldn’t ask for anything better.

You never really parted ways after that first night together, he was a perfect gentleman, took you home on his truck and he never tried to touch you until the two of you arrived at your door.

He was saying goodnight to you when you heard him whisper “oh fuck it” and he kissed you, no longer holding back. It was a perfect kiss, full of desire and passion and you could feel his need for more through his lips and the way his tongue found its way into your mouth.

You felt vulnerable and weak as if he really saw you, beyond appearances, beyond fences that you have built to defend yourself, in the most hidden part of yourself. And you didn’t mind feeling that way in front of a man, in front of him.

You knew it was right.

You could feel it in your bones.

You wanted to drag him inside the house but you stopped just in time before completely losing control.

“I don’t do this at first date, you know” you whispered in his ear while he was kissing your neck giving you shivers down your spine.

His mouth was eager and insatiable, nipping at your skin like he was starved, but again, he was a real gentleman and didn’t do anything you didn’t wanted.

He was fully respectful of your boundaries and conquered your heart with patience.

At your fifth date you were so thirsty for him that you couldn’t even get to the restaurant.

He knocked at the door dressed in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps and his chest in a way that drove you completely wild, you took his hand without saying a word and run to the bedroom dragging him with you with no shame whatsoever.

You didn’t care about manners, dinner that was booked the week before, whatever else that could delay that moment.

You just wanted him.

You felt safe with him and this made you even more horny.

He fucked you wildly and then cuddled with you in the sweetest way ever.

Your heart was full, your body soothed and your thirst quenched.

You moved in together after 6 months of the most fulfilling relationship you had ever had.

Joel has his flaws, he is stubborn, when he is angry he can barely speak and mutters under his breath, he doesn't know how to cook, he's messy and leaves his dirty socks on the carpet in the living room, sometimes he's way too protective and it drives you crazy the way he always tries to warn you off from everyone as if you're not used to assholes.

Minor things compared to how he makes you feel anyway.

When he loves, he loves deeply.

He showers you with compliments and nice gestures, he’s a grumpy with a heart of gold.

And he’s handsome. So handsome you can’t believe that he’s your man even if he makes sure to tell you how beautiful, smart and sexy you are everyday.

You yawn and finally decide to get up, you head to the kitchen and make yourself a coffee.

It’s Saturday and Joel is supposed to come home in a few hours.

After breakfast you do some chores and cleaning around the house.

You go to the supermarket to buy ingredients to make his favorite dinner.

And then you decide to take the afternoon to yourself, you take a long bath and relax in the tub listening to music lulled by the hot water and the scent of bubble bath.

Once out, you decide to wear the dress you wore on your first date with Joel.

You remember perfectly how he looked at you and you feel a shiver down your spine. You haven't worn it for a while and as soon as you put it on you discover that it is too tight on your breasts and hips. You know you've gained a few pounds since you've been with him, you're relaxed, you're happy, you don't care, but you really wanted to give him a perfect evening and this makes you nervous. You look in the mirror and fall back into all the negative thoughts about yourself. It's a fragile balance.

You're still navigating the middle of it, even though you're much better.

You take off the dress and put it back in the closet, hidden, where you can barely see it, hoping bad mood will pass even though you know it has completely ruined your day.

You start cooking, leaving the decision on what to wear until later.

You like cooking and have always been successful at it, your grandma shared all her recipes with you and teached you all her secrets.

Your mother just told you the calories in everything you cooked.

When everything is ready you go to get dressed, you stare at your clothes for what seems like an infinite amount of time, sighing. In the end you choose another dress, black, narrower at the waist and wider at the hips. It leaves your legs uncovered, it's not like the other one but it still suits you so you make the best of it.

You’re spraying yourself with your favorite perfume when you hear the keys turning in the lock and you instinctively run to the door.

As soon as he opens the door you don't even give him time to enter and you throw your arms around his neck.

“Hi sweetheart” he whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against his chest “did you miss me?”

You can hear a little laugh in his voice as you reply “of course, I couldn't wait for you to come back”

You take his lips with urgency and just feeling his scruff brushing gently against your cheeks and your cupid bow makes you feel better.

He tastes sweet, he’s warm and familiar.

He never fails to make you whole.

When you're with him it feels like the world is turning right, like things are all falling into place, magically.

One look is enough for him to understand you.

His tongue makes room into your mouth so easily and intertwined with yours and you’re lost in his embrace.

When you finally part to take breath he’s grinning and watching at you with burning desire in his eyes.

“I missed you too. Let me see you, sweetie. I want to admire my beautiful babe in this dress”

You instantly feel better and do a pirouette laughing to make him look at you.

“Jesus, hun, it’s really amazing on you”

You walk up to him and give him a kiss on the hairless part of his beard, then take his lips again.

You moan into his mouth when his hands move to your ass, stroking it gently then squeezing it.

“I love your ass babe, so full and juicy and soft”

You whine at his praise, kissing his jawline and his neck.

You rest your face on his chest enjoying his warmth.

“It's amazing how you always make me feel better. I felt like crap a few hours ago." you murmur.

“Why, love, what happened?” you can clearly hear concern in his voice.

“I wanted to wear the dress I wore the first time we went out…but it's too tight now” you whisper, a little bit ashamed.

He cups your face with his hands, looking at you with sweetness.

An incredible sweetness that instantly melt your heart.

“Don’t be sad babe, a dress is just a dress, it doesn’t fit you anymore? Who cares. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’m so lucky to have you”

You want to cry, but you don't, instead you take his lips back into yours, grateful to have a man like that by your side.

No one has ever made you feel more loved than him.

You kiss him intensely, so much that you're almost breathless, but it doesn't matter.

You feel his erection pressing against your thigh and you can't wait any longer, you even forget about dinner already being prepared and he doesn't seem worried either.

“Can we go to our bedroom already? I need you so bad, Joel” you pant against his skin.

“Whatever my love wants” and he take you by the hand “I definitely need to remind you how much I love you and how incredibly sexy and lovely you are. Come with me”

He takes you to your bedroom without stopping to hold your hand and makes you sit on the edge of the bed.

He looks you in the eyes as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. It's incredible how delicate his big hands can be.

He trace the outline of your jaw with his fingertips never stop looking at you.

He then moves to your neck, placing his hand right under your ear, his fingers hidden in your hair.

He leans down to kiss your nose and your lips, so softly.

“Babe, you’re the most precious thing I have in my life, I don’t know what I would do without you”.

His voice is low, slightly hoarse, it surrounds you like a hug, it goes straight to your heart, every little intonation that characterizes it, how it glides over the vowels and caresses the consonants, his breathing, that warmth that emanates, that sense of familiarity and comfort, his sensitivity and his inner strength and his fragility that he is not afraid to show.

He lowers the straps of your dress and makes you stand up just for a moment to let it fall at your feet, sliding it over your hips.

He makes you lie down on the bed, while he also undresses, remaining in his boxers. He climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you.

“Never forget how gorgeous you are, please”

His hand slides over your breast, still covered by your bra, he searches for your nipple and takes it between his fingers, pinching and pulling it gently.

“I love your tits, so big and perfectly shaped” and he kisses you there. “I love your pretty face, and your smile and your sparkling eyes and your luscious lips.” Each word is followed by a kiss on the body part he just mentioned “And your silky hair. And this freckle right here. Above your upper lip. I would do nothing but kiss it all the time. I love the smell of your skin and your taste, so sweet.”

You can't believe he's doing this, he's literally worshipping every part of you.

“I love your incredibly sexy hips and thighs."

His lips move over you like velvet, like butterflies flapping their wings on your skin, so impalpable and yet so real.

“I love every inch of your body, especially those that seem too much to you. And of course I love your intelligence and how you laugh at my stupid jokes that never make anyone laugh. I love that you’re funny and sarcastic. I love the little wrinkle that comes between your eyebrows when you concentrate. I love the way you squint when I say something about my work that you don’t know. I love the way you look at me, I love hugging you and feeling your breathtaking body on mine.”

Joel isn't one for many words, he generally prefers action but now he's a river in flood and looks at you haunted.

It's an incredible feeling to have him all to yourself, to have the certainty of being able to trust him blindly, without the fear that he will turn out to be like everyone else you've been with.

No one has ever treated you this way before, with devotion, as if your body were a priceless treasure.

You yourself were mean to this body, you hated it, you tried to change it, you cursed it and cried because it didn't look like anyone else's when the only thing you wanted was to be like one of your friends.

Thin. Impeccable. Someone who fits any dress and who has never heard "we don't have your size". One who wasn't laughed at, treated like a joke, one who everyone looked up to, one whose face people didn't throw pies at and call a whale or a monster.

Joel knows all this. You told him. And everything he's ever tried to do is exactly the opposite of what they've always done to you.

An ode of love to you, to your body, to your soul.

He moves between your knees, settling at the end of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses along your inner thighs moving up and up towards your pussy, his beard deliciously rough on your skin.

He smiles at your already wet panties, at the unmistakable stain that spreads across the front.

You wore a cute white lacy pair with matching bra that he bought to you last Christmas.

You sigh in anticipation as he takes the time to stroke and tease your clit through the fabric with just one finger.

He then slides his fingers into the sides of your panties, he makes your hips rise slightly and takes them off, smiling at you.

You gasp as he buries his face between your legs kissing your folds so softly, he stick his tongue out and lick your lips and then part them with two fingers and kiss your clit.

You moan loudly and feel his smile widening on your skin, he’s so good at this and he knows that you love the way he does it.

He takes your clit in his mouth and suck gently.

“You’re so wet babe” and he kiss your lips again “so good for me, the perfect woman”

He teases your hole with his tongue, just the tip, while his thumb circle around your clit.

Nice and slow, a steady pace that makes you whimper against his face.

You grab his hair pushing him even more against your pussy, whining in pleasure.

You feel his beard crawling across your skin, you know it will redden your skin but you don't care, you don't care about anything now.

He continues to lick you, up and down and then back to your clit, his large hand splayed on your tummy.

You've always been ashamed of your tummy.

He adores it. He always tells you, he likes to touch it and he likes to kiss it and he loves that it’s so soft and fluffy.

He groans as you tug his hair and increases the pace, making his way into your hole with two of his thick fingers, stretching you and searching for the spongy spot that always makes you feel on fire.

You raise your head slightly to look at him and see his eyes staring at you mischievously and proudly, he likes looking at you, he doesn't want to miss a second of your pleasure.

He’s again on your clit with his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, you whine again and again more and more loudly.

He doesn’t stop.

“Joel I-” your voice cracks in an attempt to say something “God, I just can’t”

“Yes, you can, babe, just come for me, I want to feel it. Come all over my face”

you whine, squeeze his head between your thighs, your hand tucked in his hair “Joel!”

You feel a heat radiating inside you, your orgasm building as he gives you no respite.

“Come on baby, give it to me” he whispers softly on your skin.

And you do. You explode at his praise, at his begging for you to give him what he wants.

You pant loudly as he doesn't stop licking you until you calm down.

He comes back next to you and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, you're all over his face and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck me Joel. Fuck me now, please” your voice comes out almost desperate.

He looks at you, nodding without saying anything else, takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, making you spread your legs to make room for himself. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it on your clit. Once, twice, three times, wetting it with your pleasure that slid down to your inner thighs.

“You want my cock, babe?”

You nod repeatedly looking at him with beg in your eyes.

“Tell me how much you want it”

“I want it, Joel. I want it so bad. Please”

He enters you effortlessly, even though he's big, much bigger than any man you've ever had.

“Always so tight for me, God, you’re so amazing”

He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you up to sit on top of him, he’s sitting on his heels, his cock still inside you.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue licks hungrily into your mouth, he holds you tight against his chest, you moan into his lips feeling you totally enveloped by him, your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair, your thighs around his waist.

His cock burns in your center, he moves his hips to sink into you, deep.

You feel like you're one, you're totally drunk on him and it's an overwhelming thrill.

He fucks you like this, holding you close to him, each thrust harder and harder, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You fill your nostrils with his scent, his masculine unmistakable scent, the one you were missing this morning.

The scent that smells of home and comfort and caresses and the purest love you've ever felt.

It’s here now.

And it’s yours.

You end up hugging each other on the bed, tired but incredibly happy. You are still held in his arms as he whispers “I love you” into your hair.

You look up and look him in the eyes and you know it's true.

"I love you too.”

[redeyerhaenyra]

Truly Madly Deeply

Summary: Marc goes all out when you tell him you're a virgin

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, soft sex, softie Marc, FLUFF, virgin reader, extremely mild breeding kink at the end, cockwarming, Marc loves reader soooo much, fingering + oral (f receiving), reader cries a little, let me know if I missed anything x

Notes: For all my marc girlies

Wc: 847

When you'd initially told Marc you were a virgin, he'd acted surprised.

Surely, no one as kind, as beautiful as you would've had people throwing themselves at your feet, right? Well, that just wasn't the case for you.

You'd expressed your worry to him, that he would think less of you- but he was quick to kiss away your insecurities, and promise in a low voice that he would always love you, no matter what form you took.

He'd set it up perfectly, a true romantic. You'd both been out to a very nice restaurant- and you'd worn a red dress you felt exquisite in, and Marc was all but dying to tell you.

“So beautiful, baby, can't believe your mine, I don't deserve you, God, you're so pretty.” 

You jumped to tell him that he did deserve you, of course. He rubbed the back of his neck, flushing.

When you had both gotten home- oh! Rose petals and incense and sweet, seductive music playing on his old walkman. He had led you by your hand, kissing you, to your shared bedroom. 

Marc had looked upon you as if you were a goddess, sent from the heavens for him to ravish. He took his time, peeling your clothes of slowly, savouring every moment, only stopping to take of his own when you whined that it wasn't fair if only you were naked, and he had gladly followed your command for him to strip. Tonight was about you, after all.

It felt like hours, hours he'd been, buried in your cunt, lapping and sucking and locking into your greedy hole. He was gentle though, guiding you over and over to sweet, brain melting orgasms, praising you over and over.

“Taste so good, fuck, can't get enough, oh baby, it's so good, you're so good for me..”

Marc treated you like fine China, swallowing your whimpers and wails with his kisses, as he plunged two of his fingers deep within you, stroking that spot, scissoring his fingers gradually wider and wider, so that it didn't hurt when you finally took him. 

Hours of prep later, you had ended up begging Marc with tears in your eyes for his cock. Who was he to deny you? You balked a little at the sight of it- hard and thick and dripping for you. But Marc had assured you that it wouldn't hurt- and if it did, you would stop, and try another way. Or, just stop altogether.

“Hey, baby, we don't don't to, okay? You don't owe me this, you don't owe me anything, I love you, hey- oh baby don't cry, it's ok, I've got you, i- I know you want to baby, we're gonna take it slow, alright? I love you sweetheart.”

The final moment- the one you'd been building towards for hours. Sudden nerves filled you- and you tensed, but were gently eased to relax with Marc's soft, guiding voice in your ear, rumbling through his chest as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance.

He moaned with you, as he pushed in, just an inch, panting above you as he waited for you to tell him you were ready for more. You did, he pushed in another inch, and again waited until you were ready. This continued until the whole length of his cock was stuffed snugly in your pussy, bulging out in your tummy- Marc wouldn't admit it but the sight gave him an ego boost. 

“Oh, honey, look at that, your lil’ tummy's so full, huh? So full of me? Aw, baby, doing so good, takin’ me so well, yeah baby, yeah, I know, I know, you're such a brave girl. My brave girl.”

He'd cupped your face, pressing loving kisses all around you, as he began thrusting. It was slow, deep, perfect. He knew juuust how to treat you. 

The orgasm you soon gushed all over him was, warm, almost syrupy. It had you feeling gooey, like treacle. Marc allowed himself to speed up his thrusts just enough to tip himself over the edge, once he was sure you were able to handle the added sensation of his warm cum spilling inside you. 

God, so warm, so comfy. Marc was like a personal pillow for you. He moved to pull out, but you had reached over to grip his firm backside, and instead push him deeper inside, complaining that you wanted him plugging you up all night, that you didn't want to lose a single drop of his cum. Marc had groaned, muttering into your neck that you'd be the death of him, before carefully manoeuvring you onto your side, where he could comfortably spoon you from behind. All the while, his dick gradually softening, occasionally twitching inside you.

You were exhausted, but surrounded in a snuggly aura of peace. You felt like you lay on a cloud, floating on air, wrapped in a blanket of the man you loved, pressing sweet kisses into your hair. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “truly, madly, deeply, I love you.”

“..I love you too.”

[bumblesimagines]

The Clouds and The Stars

Request: Yes or No

Sequel one shot to The Sun and Moon!

Pronouns: He/Him/His

~~~

Married life... such a curious thing. Many grew up with an expectation as to how it would be, mostly based on their own parents' relationship. There were the happy parents who formed a love match and loved each other with their whole hearts. There were the friendly parents who were more friends than partners but still cared for one another. Then, there were the saddening parents who either due to a forced marriage or perhaps because of time grew to despise each other, only tolerating each other for the sake of their children whom they unknowingly harm with their arguments and jabs. 

(Y/N) grew up with friendly parents. Lucy and Henry had ended their respective social seasons by marrying under the guise of being madly in love in order to chase after what they truly wanted, even if their desires had to be kept behind closed doors and only exposed to trusted individuals. Secrecy had always been a part of his life, even when it involved marriage, and he supposed now, as he lied in bed and watched the sun peek through the curtains, he'd truly followed in his parents' footsteps. At least, however, he'd found someone. Found more than one, in fact. 

"Love," (Y/N) couldn't help but smile as Anthony sighed into his ear, his muscular arm tightening around him and pulling him closer to his chest. Anthony buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, lips pressing against his skin before he hooked his chin over (Y/N)'s shoulder. He gently nudged him, a soft grunt leaving him when (Y/N) remained still. "Love."

"What is it?" (Y/N) chuckled and finally shifted, moving onto his back and peering up at Anthony when he propped himself up onto his elbow. Anthony smiled at him, cheeky and pleased, one hand moving to cup his face and rub his thumb soothingly over his cheek, a warm twinkle in his dark eyes. (Y/N) felt his skin flush under such an adoring gaze. 

"I simply wished to see my husband's beautiful face, is all." Anthony cooed, and (Y/N) smile widened tenfold, a bashful and breathy laugh escaping him. They weren't married to each other, not legally or in the eyes of the church at least, but in their hearts and to their families they were. Many in the ton suspected but with Queen Charlotte's silence and Lady Whistledown calling their dance together a 'much-needed change for such dreary balls', anyone with suspicions or beliefs remained silent. Of course, they still had to remain a secret, lest someone grew annoyed enough to reach out to the church. 

"Such a charmer, Anthony." (Y/N) spoke teasingly, sighing softly against Anthony's mouth when he swooped down to kiss him. Anthony pressed harder against his lips and fully rolled over, laying ontop of the painter and only pulling away to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Always so hungry, so needy and clingy. "Anthony, we have things to do-"

"They can wait," Anthony murmured against his skin, one hand slipping under his shirt while the other took his hand and locked their fingers together. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and released a breathy laugh, breath nearly hitching when Anthony needily rolled his hips. "We have time."

"It's an important day, Anthony. Francesca will need her brother today, you know." (Y/N) reminded him, dipping his fingers beneath Anthony's chin and gripping it lightly so he could tilt his head up. Anthony sighed dramatically, putting his full weight down on him and bringing their intertwined hands toward his face, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of (Y/N)'s hand. (Y/N) smiled.

"Suppose we should be quick, then." Anthony grinned mischievously, his free hand pushing up (Y/N)'s shirt and head dipping to pepper kisses along his stomach. 

"Anthony!" (Y/N) tried not to laugh too loudly, mindful of those still slumbering in the nearby rooms. He could hear the maids and servants bustling around, likely readying the house and preparing breakfast. Such a big day for the Bridgerton family again, and yet, there lied the Viscount, acting like a hormonal boy all over again. (Y/N) swatted at his shoulder and pushed himself up but it only prompted Anthony's head to dip even lower. "Anthony Bridgerton!"

Releasing a muffled laugh, Anthony finally relented and sat back, his hand still keeping an iron grip on (Y/N)'s no matter how hard the painter trying to pull back. (Y/N) groaned again in fake annoyance that only made Anthony giggle like a child and reach out to pull him onto his lap. He leaned in, pressing their lips together again. (Y/N) melted against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing Anthony's hand and feeling his fingers tighten even more. 

"If only-" (Y/N) leaned back, briefly interrupted when Anthony pecked his lips again. "-you put this much effort into having an heir with Steph." 

"Mm, I've been busy and she seems more than content with her... lady friends," Anthony said, nuzzling his face into (Y/N)'s chest. "If you'd been a lady, I'm certain you'd be expecting by now." 

"Yes, I'm aware. You've made that abundantly clear, Lord Bridgerton. I don't understand how you can have this much stamina." (Y/N) shook his head with a soft laugh, sweetly kissing the top of his head and exhaling softly. "But, I am not a lady nor your wife, Anthony. You need an heir. I'm sure it won't take too many attempts."

"And what of you and Kate? I'm sure you nor she will have this difficulty if you try for children of your own. We have each other's blessings, you know. If you'd like to have a child-"

"We've been breaching the topic, actually." (Y/N) revealed, finally untangling his hand from Anthony's and rising up from the bed, searching for the clothes he kept in Anthony's home for days he spent the night. Because of their predicament regarding Anthony's position as Viscount and their inability to wed publicly or have children, both men agreed to take on brides. Stephanie provided the perfect candidate for Viscountess and (Y/N) had always held affection for Kate. "She's more than happy to have children. She thinks two is a good number, in fact, so they have someone to keep them company."

"How many do you think Steph will want?" Anthony sighed, standing up as well to get dressed.

"Well, if you have a boy first... I think you'll both be content with just one." (Y/N) chuckled, slipping his coat on and adjusting the ends of it while Anthony began taking clothes out of the closet. The thought of parenthood, of fatherhood, hung over the two of them, both exciting and nerve-wracking. The four of them would care for the children together, that'd already been agreed upon, but still... bringing life into the world? It made (Y/N) queasy yet... pleased. 

"If you and I could have children," Anthony whistled sharply, a grin spreading across his face and fingers swiftly buttoning up his shirt. "We'd have a bigger brood than Mother." 

"I don't doubt it." (Y/N) retrieved Anthony's coat from its spot draped over the armrest and approached him, helping him slip his arms through and adjusting it for him. He smiled, finishing the last button of his shirt and fixing the collar before tugging Anthony closer to kiss him. "You're insatiable, Anthony."

"Only for you." Anthony cooed, gearing up to lean in again but the sound of the door opening made him pause.

Stephanie dramatically gasped at the sight of them, lifting a hand to her head and fanning herself rapidly. "Oh, Kate, what ever will we do? How could they do this to us?" She gasped again, a teasing smile stretching across her face as Kate giggled and gently nudged her and walked further into the room. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Stephanie but smiled widely at Kate, pulling away from Anthony to extend his arms out toward her. 

"My darling wife." He greeted warmly, coiling his arms around her waist and planting a kiss between her brows. Kate hummed softly, leaning her head down to rest it on his shoulder. Stephanie stopped at Anthony's side, taking a quick look over his clothes before nodding approvingly and curling her arm around his. 

"Shall we get to it? Breakfast is ready and Violet has been fretting over Francesca nonstop. She's worried about the poor girl." Stephanie told them and Anthony sighed heavily, leaning over to kiss (Y/N)'s temple and nod to Kate. The Viscount and Viscountess fell into conversation and exited the room, leaving Kate and (Y/N) alone. 

"So, my darling husband," Kate began with a small laugh, lifting her head and smoothing out his shirt with her palms, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place before rising to look him in the eye. She smiled, pecking his cheek. "We have a long day ahead of us, as you know. Ready for this social season?"

"As long as I have you and Anthony and Steph, I'll always be ready."

[munson-blurbs]

eddie/wedding/tequila 🍻

Drunk Eddie is my favorite Eddie to write hehehe 💚

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Eddie is absolutely plastered, allusion to smut

WC: 989

Join my 2k followers celebration!

--

The band plays the final note of The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” and begins the opening chords of “Truly Madly Deeply.”

“Okay, let’s slow things down for all the lovebirds out there,” the lead singer croons into the mic. “Grab your sweetheart and bring ‘em onto the dance floor.”

You make your way over to your table and extend your hand. “May I have this dance?” you ask sweetly, frowning when the metalhead shakes his head. A lock of his curly brown hair comes loose from the bun at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie slurs, taking another sip of his drink, “but ‘m married to the love of my life. I only wan’ dance with her.”

Stifling a giggle, you sit in the chair next to him and rub his back. “I know that. Because I’m your wife, Eddie.” You motion to the diamond on your ring finger and the silver band on his. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome. ‘Cause you’re, like, s’fucking beautiful.” He gasps. “Holy shit, my wife is beautiful!”

The scent of tequila wafts from his breath, and you crinkle your nose. “Eds, how many shots did you and Robin do?”

Eddie whines and throws his head back. “Don’t make me do math at a party!” He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs your hand, placing it atop his scalp. “Can you give me scratches?”

You oblige, kissing just above his ear. “C’mon, puppy dog,” you tease. “Let’s get you back to the hotel room.” Starting to help him up, you spot Steve making his rounds, bow tie undone and face flushed from dancing. You send up a silent prayer that Eddie won’t attract his attention, but it must get intercepted. 

“Harrington!” your husband calls out. Multiple guests turn to face you; it is a Harrington wedding, afterall. “Get over here, big boy!” He stumbles towards the groom and claps a ringed hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Y’havin’ a good time?”

“The best.” Eddie is fully leaning on his friend now, and you mouth Sorry in Steve’s direction. “Dude, my wife is so hot.”

You bury your head in your hands; your cheeks are burning with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Eddie,” you insist, grateful that Steve appears unfazed by the comment. 

“Stevie, you ever been in love?” Eddie asks, suddenly serious. His eyes are glassy and half-lidded; it’s only a matter of time before he falls asleep. 

Steve looks around at the hotel ballroom, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah. I just got married, like, three hours ago. You were a groomsman.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie sounds as though he’s receiving brand-new information. “Congrats, man. Anyway,” he presses on, ignoring you tugging on his sleeve, “I jus’ want you to know that I, Eddie Munson, am also in love. With this girl right here.” He flails his free arm around until he finds your waist and pulls you into him. 

“Well, I’m, uh, happy to hear that,” Steve manages, and you shoot him another apologetic glance before dragging Eddie to the elevator and into the hotel room. You can’t turn the key fast enough. 

Eddie flops onto the bed, still fully dressed in his tuxedo and shoes. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before he pipes up:

“We gotta beat Steve.”

Despite your better judgment, you respond with an incredulous, “what?”

“We gotta beat Steve,” Eddie repeats. “We got married, but now he’s married, too. So we’re not winning anymore.” He pouts for a millisecond before sitting up suddenly, steadying himself on the sheets. “We should have a baby!”

You burst out laughing. “Babe, I love you. But I am not bringing new life into this world just so you can win some imaginary competition against Steve.”

“Fine,” Eddie slumps down, defeated. 

You figure that will be the end of the discussion, but you should know better at this point. You’re rifling through your suitcase for a pair of pajamas when you hear the mini fridge door open. 

“What are you doing now?” you hiss. 

“‘M wooing you so you’ll have my baby,” he hiccups, pulling out a small bottle of Patrón and unscrewing the cap. “I call this one the ‘wraparound.’” Eddie proceeds to drag the bottle around his head, spilling tequila everywhere. “Oopsie daisy!” He cackles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

You pluck the half-empty bottle from his grasp and set it on the nightstand. “Eddie, get out of those clothes and Go. To. Bed.” you say through gritted teeth. 

Eddie snorts. “If you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out to dinner first.” But he obliges, sleeping as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you snuggle in next to him. He rarely drinks beyond an occasional post-work beer, so you’re glad he let loose tonight. You just wish you didn’t have to babysit him. 

Eddie stirs, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist. “My sexy lil’ wife,” he mumbles. “Prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen.” He nestles into the crook of your neck. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” you tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face and kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta make a baby so we can beat Harrington.”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply tersely, rolling your eyes. 

But the next morning, after a cup of black coffee and two Advil, Eddie’s ushering you back into bed. 

“I was serious about that baby, sweetheart,” he muses. “And not because of a contest with Steve.” 

You smile, bringing your lips to his soft, plush ones. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms, climbing on top of you and peppering your face with kisses. “But if there was a contest, we would totally be the superior couple.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[shootingstarwritings]

Wrestling with Heartache

Part 1/2

Kyle McCarthy fell madly in love at a time most college students did—in the middle of a hellish studying session for a class he despised. “Gotta make sure we get everything right…” he muttered to himself after chugging another full cup of ice cold coffee.

“Keep it together, Kyle,” said the young man right next to him. Kyle scowled but nodded. He looked over and wondered how a man so clearly drowning in exhaustion could still appear so beautiful.

His name was Michael Hayworth, top of the lightweight division. Despite it being his first semester on the team, he went undefeated in every meet. 'No doubt due to his disarming eyes,' thought Kyle. Once more, he got lost in those hazel whirlpools--

“Uh, Kyle? You still awake, buddy?” Michael said, still smiling as he handed Kyle another mug of coffee. “Here, this one’s still hot. It’ll wake you up. Just a half hour more and we should get some sleep.”

“O-Oh… uh, th-thank you.”

The following semester, Kyle applied to be a student manager for the wrestling team. After a tough interviewing period with coach Klaus Reynolds; a burly, no-nonsense man; Kyle spent more of his time with Michael despite sharing far fewer classes.

“Glad to see you got the job,” said Michael after a particularly sweaty day of practice. Just about the whole team was winded and groaning. The heat and dry air made their sweaty singlets stick uncomfortably close to their tight and toned bodies. However, even with the feast for the eyes that lied before him, Kyle’s gaze was still drawn to Michael and his radiant smile. “You’re the reliable kind, Kyle. Know you’ll do great!”

‘You’re wonderful, Michael,’ thought Kyle as he gathered up the used singlets and towels that the team had used the day before. Michael was truly one of a kind, and that only drove Kyle to possess such a man as he. Of course, Michael didn’t show much interested in a lanky and awkward guy like Kyle. Based on the dating app profile Kyle had found, Michael enjoyed bigger and heftier men.

‘Standing by Michael’s side,’ Kyle thought to himself, ‘would simply have to do.’

And it did… for a time. With each passing session, Kyle’s adoration and infatuation grew and grew. And with such a burning love came a frigid envy. The camaraderie that the wrestling team had with each other was something that Kyle was thankful for, but also deeply territorial towards. Each passing glance, loving touch, and accidental caress ignited heart pound with vitriolic and violent passion.

“Passion is a flame. It can provide or engulf,” Kyle’s roommate, a man at least a decade his senior, said. Though his hands were busy with the night’s meal, his ears were always free for friends. Armed with the patience of a monk and the shaggy hair of a hippie, Namba was a university student who applied late into the education system and studied to become a therapist. His enormous hair, rare for a man of his lineage, hid his eyes and gave him a unique appeared. Those that spoke with him often revealed far more than they intended, for they were able to speak to Namba without any judging eyes to put them on edge.

At least, that was Kyle’s hypothesis. For him, the lack of eye-contact with Namba made it easy for him to speak his mind. Long and awkward discussions about sexuality, lust, and just dirty talk were easy with the nonchalant Namba, who lived with a laissez-faire attitude.

“Please, continue,” said Namba, gesturing to Kyle. “I am curious to learn about your heartaches,” he continued without a hint of sarcasm.

“Wish I was a bit more like the other wrestling team members,” said Kyle as he washed the leftover dishes and arranged the utensils. Managing the equipment of the team was easy with a multi-tasking mind like his. He often joked that his hands had their own brains, but all three of them disagreed too much to make him a genius.

“So your wish is to be someone else?” said Namba as he set down a large pot of… something on the small kitchen table. Whatever it was, it smelled good.

“Hmm, I suppose. Michael’s so close to other members—especially guys like Nicholas or Zack. Oh man, now that guy." Kyle was about to go on a rant on the stoic man, but Namba warned him about tangents.

"Right, right," said Kyle, getting back on topic. "When me and the other team members talk, it’s nice. We get along fine. But it reeks of platonic interactions. Meanwhile, it always feels like the team members’ touching and groping each other, even when they play it off like jokes, last a little too much time.”

“Perhaps your passion is clouding your judgment? Or do you think it’s focusing your sight on the true enemy?”

“Calling them ‘enemies’ is a bit much… ‘Rivals’ is a bit more appropriate. We still get along.” Aside from the icy Zack and perhaps the stern and stoic coach Reynolds, Kyle could not recall any particularly bad interactions with the other team members. They thanked Kyle for doing work and approached him with friendly attitudes. It wasn’t bad at all, but somehow still disappointingly saccharine. Kyle wasn’t friends with any of the wrestling team members; they were merely coworkers. He could shoot the breeze, but not his shot. “If they were my enemies while I did their laundry and managed their stuff, then…”

“You’d be like those Victorian era heroines who secretly plotted the death of her lord while starching his clothes.”

“...A morbid comparison, but yes.”

“Well, my dear bed companion—“

“Please just use ‘roommate’ or ‘friend.’”

“—I have the solution to all our problems. Please, dine with me. A full stomach will calm your nerves.” Kyle shrugged and ate quickly. Eating from stress wasn’t anything new for him. He had gained a few pounds after entering university, and sadly most of it was not from muscle despite his semi-frequent visits to the gym.

“Dunno if I can have a ‘solution’ to this problem. Maybe I can work out some more,” said Kyle. He flexed a thin arm, grimacing as he saw the lack of real muscle. It had become far less flabby, but his genes and metabolism really let him down. At most, he could probably develop the body of a twunk if he went five days a week.

“That would be the preferred way, but younglings like you aren’t the type to wait around—and neither am I. It’s why I created this concoction.” Grinning, Namba gestured for Kyle to follow. The two left their dishes in the sink and made their way towards their next door neighbors. Often populated by a pair of twins and a friend, it seemed like the only one home at the time was Tim McDonald.

He was about Michael’s age, but had the personality of a man twice that. His round eyes comfortably slotted into a sour scowl or sneer. The trend continued as he answered the door to Namba’s loud and obnoxious knocking. “What?” he said, eyes narrowed as they peered back and forth between Michael and Namba.

Michael had never seen Tim crack a smile all semester. Most of the time, Tim shot one or two word responses and preferred to mind his own business. From what Michael had gathered, Tim was a business major with major ADHD. He wasn’t flunking, but it was clear that the time spent keeping his head above the academic waters soured his personality.

“Do you mind if we borrow some sugar?” asked Namba. “We have guests over and I forgot to purchase some more. My nan refuses to drink her tea without at least three sugar cubes’ worth.” Tim rolled his eyes, muttered something about old men, and slipped inside to look. While Tim’s back was turned, Namba stepped inside and snuck up behind him.

“Wha—“ Kyle began to say before Namba turned around and placed a finger over his lips before winking. He then bent his knees and jumped onto Tim.

Instead of an impact, Namba’s lithe yet hairy body sunk into Tim’s huskier frame. Tim let out a choked cry, back arching as a whole man slipped inside of him. He grabbed onto the kitchen counter, body convulsing as a few changes began to appear. His short, blond hair turned a shade darker and a big shaggier. Bangs that were usually combed back grew and covered his eyes much like Namba’s.

After a few moments of struggling, Tim let out a large, relaxed sigh. “Mmm, worked like a charm.” Spinning on the ball of his foot, Tim grinned and pointed at himself. ���And that’s exactly the kind of gift you can do now, kiddo.”

“I… wha…?”

“It’s me, Namba!” he said. He slipped off Tim's shift and began to pose. "Mmm... this youthful body feels so much easier to move in that my own!"

After a bit of panic and a few questions, Namba detailed his plan to Kyle.

~o~

Three days. That was how long the concoction would remain in both of their systems. After that, they would need to prepare new broth. “Is this not what you wanted? To grow close to that man? Well, for a while at least, you can.” The effect of the concoction would allow one to ‘merge’ their soul with another body for a limit of 72 hours. No more. “It’s a small reprieve, but I believe you deserve it after such hard work. Perhaps it’ll even give you clues as to how to naturally grow closer to Michael with your own charm. Charm that you do possess, despite your protests.”

“But,” Kyle had asked, “What do you get out of it? You said this would solve a problem you had as well.”

“Ah, you see… I have little money to spare, and I ended getting a bit too invested at the slots and borrow some money from friends, so…”

“You’re worse than the freshmen.” Kyle had told him.

‘Becoming someone else,’ thought Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room. It was another Friday night, and he had been unable to decide on what to do with the gift Namba had granted. ‘Michael…? No. The coach? Maybe…?’

All Kyle wanted was to be close to Michael, if only for a day. Taking over one of the other wrestlers was the way to do so, but finding and isolating one of them would be the hard part.

However, luck would soon turn for Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room, the singlets and jockstraps of the team in tow. In the room, wearing only a pair of white briefs and little else, was a member of the wrestling team. Zackary Kuvaev. Tall, imposing, and often wearing a scowl on his stone-like face. When Kyle into the room, Zackary merely grunted in acknowledgement while glaring down at one of the laundry machines.

“Um, hello, Zack. Uh… run out of clothes…?”

“Roommates. Prank. Last clothes stained.” Only rarely did Zack’s voice and face betray much emotion. The only time that occurred was often when Michael wrapped an arm around the stoic Zack’s shoulders and…

Michael…

Zack continued to glare at the machine, not paying the slightest bit of attention towards Kyle. ‘He’ll regret that.‘ Kyle held no real malice towards Zack, but the envy and territorial rush of emotions in his chest overruled any sense of guilt he might’ve had.

Hesitation thrown to the wind, Kyle broke into a sprint and dived into Zack’s back. The older wrestler let out a startled gasp as another man suddenly fought him for dominance over his own body. No words were spoken, only shouts and groans as Zack collapsed onto his knees, clutching and clawing at his chest. “AHH…! Ahh…! AAAHHH!” Small patches began to sprout throughout his formerly smooth body, particularly around the arms, chest, legs, and armpits. His sharp and stoic face turned the slightest bit softer and rounder. Hawk-like eyes began kinder and his scowl became a look of pure wonder.

“It really did work…” muttered Kyle as he looked down at his beefy arms and masculine hands. The difference truly should’ve been just a few pounds of muscle, but the sheer energy and strength that coursed through his body was borderline euphoric. “Oh wow!” Kyle stood up on his toes and marveled at how graceful the movement felt. He paraded around the room, admiring each swing of his arms and his powerful gaits. Never Kyle’s life did he believe that his glutes could be so powerful.

 “Everytime he touches me, I feel electricity course my body. He’s wonderful. He’s divine. And I will make him mine.” Plunging smooth yet muscular arm into the laundry hamper, Kyle dug around until he found the singlet labeled Michael. With a madman’s grin, Kyle forced Zack to say, “Until then, I’ll have to satisfy myself with just this.”

It was a few size too small, but Kyle appreciated the singlet squeezing into his well-built body. He flexed and let out an involuntary moan. Zack’s cock, freely leaking, stained Michael’s singlet even further. “It smells just like him,” said Kyle. He squeezed and rubbed against the rubbery fabric, muttering Michael’s name the whole time. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Your scent, your smile, your slightly crooked grin, the kind way you speak, the way you move… oh…!” Just the thought of approaching Michael in such a performance drove Kyle’s mind to the peak of insanity. And also forcing Zack to do it all? Acting as a cum dumpster for the two of them? “OH…! Nnngh…. AAAARRRRGHHH!”

Kyle let out a guttural groan using Zack’s voice as his cock pumped load after load into Michael’s used singlet. Kyle could’ve sworn he saw white as the torrents of cum burst from Zack’s abused dick. His knees, already sweating and wobbly, gave out on him as he collapsed onto a messy, white-stained pile. His fingers, toes, and thighs continued to twitch as he rode the last of the climax. “Haahh...Haaaahhh…!”

Once Zack’s breathing was under control, Kyle stood back up and stretched. “That was… amazing…!” Kyle flexed Zack’s muscular arm again, still surprised at his control over him. “All right, let’s get this done!” He said, wearing a grin that Zack would never be caught dead showing off.

While nowhere near as intense as the masturbation, using another body while getting errands done felt erotic as well. Kyle bounced through the room, enjoying the way his body would gently sway with each movement.

Not too long after he finished doing the laundry, he received a response from Michael. “Finished chilling with some friends at the rec center. Just relaxing in my room rn. U?”

Cock already erect, Kyle told Michael that he was free to hang out. It took a few minutes, but Michael replied with a, “Sure! :D”

“Fuck yes!” Kyle cried out, pumping his fist high into the air as soon as he saw the message. He rushed through the campus, running full-sprint with Zack’s powerful legs as he made his way to Zack’s room to drop off the remain clothes.

Once he arrived, he quickly dressed Zack’s body in clothes more suited for the night air, but he also made sure to wear a jock-strap underneath. From what Kyle could gleam from Zack’s memory, he knew that Zack and Michael had fooled around on more than one occasion.

There was a streak of envy that rushed through Kyle’s heart, but he quickly reasoned that his ability would mean that Michael could belong to him.

Him and only him…

“Hey, nice to see ya,” said Michael. He wore a loose wifebeater and a pair of shorts that seemed so easy to tear off. Kyle put on a restrained smile and nodded. “Well, c’mon in! I swear, you act like such a robot sometimes,” Michael said as he pulled Zack inside, chuckling the whole time. Kyle could’ve sworn he had the smile of a cherub as he spoke. On and on, they chatted while sitting around in Michael’s empty apartment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but…

Just being by Michael’s side, somehow for that night it satiated Kyle. They spent the night together playing video games, drinking some cheap beer Michael had in his fridge, and enjoying some bad Adult Swim shows. Throughout the night, Kyle intended to make moves on Michael and make him his own. And yet, some part of him was unable to commit. Even as the clock grew closer to 2:00 in the morning, Kyle was hardly able to do more than a simple flirt.

‘This isn’t how I figured it would go,’ Kyle thought to himself while Michael used the bathroom. His fantasies of pining Michael to the wall with Zack’s impressive physique evaporated into little more than idle dreams. Every time he would even think about making a move, some part of him withdrew. Was a fear of showing affection? Was Zack’s body doing something to him? And yet, when he stared into Michael’s charming smiles or soft chuckles, Kyle felt his heart flutter once more.

Then why? More than anything, Kyle wanted to love Michael, but…

“Hmm? Anyone I’m interested in?” Michael echoed. Just before the night wrapped up, Kyle, hoping that his desperation wasn’t quite so obvious, asked Michael once he left the restroom. A few beers went a long way to loosen the tongue. Kyle himself was fully well aware of that.

“Um… well, I kinda prefer older men,” began Michael. Grinning, he said, “Someone like Coach Reynolds, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though!” he chuckled like a schoolgirl gossiping about her friends. “He’s really hot. Someone like him—oh man, a thick and tough man like him is the best.”

‘Ah, so that was it.’

“How come you’re suddenly so interested?”

“No reason. Good luck on your love conquests., friend”

Michael chuckled again before turning over and lying down on the couch. “Good luck to you too…” he said. The sleepiness was audible in his voice. So he was that type of drinker. Kyle could feel his chest grow heavy as he felt a sudden urge to protect him. With just a bit of alcohol, anyone could take advantage of poor Michael. He really needed to remain straight and make sure that nobody laid a finger on his friend.

Kyle shook his head. Where had those thoughts come from? It was as if someone had turned a valve and allowed a flood of emotions and memories to fill Zack’s head. Were these… Zack’s inner thoughts? It made a certain amount of sense. Somehow, the thoughts didn’t “sound” like Kyle’s inner narrator—whatever that meant. He couldn’t explain, but it was a distinction that he could make.

“You’re too defenseless,” said Kyle. With slight hesitation, he placed a hand on Michael’s bare arm, and lightly rubbed it. It was only a slight touch, something that Zack had most likely experience many times over, but it was enough. Just for tonight, it was enough for Kyle.

“Your love. I hope it comes true.” Since starting university, Kyle had wished for someone to utter those words for him. At the very least, he could pretend that it was truly Zack giving his support.

“It’s… It’s not going… anywhere…” muttered Michael. Soon after, his gentle snoring felt heavy on Kyle’s borrowed ears.

‘Don’t be sure about that, Michael.’

[camille-lachenille]

After the war of the last alliance and Gil-Galad’s death, Elrond is in a pretty bad mental state. The healer in him recognises deep depression and ptsd but he shoves everything in a box locked deep within his heart, the box where he keeps memories of his brother and parents, and plows on as he builds Rivendell.

He is happy when Celebrían returns his affection and accepts his courtship, he really is happy, or at least he convinces himself that he is, that everything is fine and will get better with time.

Some time right before their wedding, Celebrían starts to worry that Elrond doesn’t love her anymore, bc he avoids her and acts strangely. She manages to sit him down and really talk about how he is feeling. Elrond rushes to reassure her he is still madly in love and wants nothing more than wed her but then, at Celebrían’s insistence, he confesses how scared he is. He is scared to taint her with his darkness and that she desserves better than him and that he must be wrong in his head if he can’t be fully happy with her. He cries a lot, like he has’t in centuries, and Celebrían holds him through it. And then, when he is coherent again, she asks him if he loves her.

“More than anything, I would die for you!” comes the rushed but deeply sincere answer.

And Celebrían looks at Elrond in the eyes, more seriously than she ever has, her hands resting on his shoulders and she tells him “You say you’d die for me. But would you live for me, if I ask you so? ”

Elrond can only nod as he starts crying again, because he will do anything for Celebrían, even tasks that seem impossible. And so, he starts to live again. It is painful, gruesome work but he sees it to the end for the love of his life, if not himself at first.

And for a time Elrond is well and truly happy. He and Celebrían get married at long last, and have first two beautiful sons and then a wonderful daughter, and the sadness seems banished far away.

Until Celebrían nearly dies at the hands of orcs.

Elrond isn’t a husband then but a healer, locking his feelings behind the professional mask again until he is sure Celebrían will live. And then, behind the locked door of their -his- room, he lets the tears come. He cries until he has nothing left and then some more. He failed to save his wife, because even he cannot mend a broken soul.

Elrond and his children see Celebrían to the ship that will bring her to Valinor and, hopefully, healing. There are tears and embraces and, before parting, Elrond presses a kiss to Celebrían’s forehead and whispers to her “Promise me you will live, for me, just as I promised I would live for you all those years ago. And I promise I will live for you forever.”

And Celebrían smiles weakly and nods. She knows what it looks like, to cling stubbornly to life and happiness. “I will live, I promise,” she whispers back.

And live she does, until she can be reunited with Elrond.

The Celebrían who greet Elrond in Valinor is happy and full if life but, in her eyes, he can see his grief mirrored. She healed, ans he knows he too will heal in time, but he is also deeply grateful they can share this grief until the happy memories become stronger and they can remember Arwen, they sweet, wonderful, stubborn, brave daughter without the pain. The memories will always be a little bittersweet but the happy time they had together as a family is stronger than grief.

Until one of their sons sails. Alone.

Elladan sails, bringing news that Elrohir will not come. He stayed with Arwen until the end, spending more and more time in Gondor and with Men in general. He was so happy, Elladan explains between his tears. He was carefree and full of a delight for adventure and hunger for the unknown so proper to Mortals. Elrohir didn’t choose mortality because of love of a person but for love of life itself. He was bright and curious and wanted to know all the unknown answers. He died like he lived, with passion and happiness and mischief. And Elladan cannot begrudge his twin’s choice because he saw just how peaceful Elrohir was on his deathbed, grey haired and face lined by time and laughter, as he slipped out of the bounds of Arda and into his next adventure.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎHoney Tears౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: angst, self deprecation pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: coriolanus gets it in his head that you're too good for him author’s note: haven't done a pk coryo fic yet so I hope this is good! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus could have sworn you didn't cry salt like everyone else. Your tears had to be sugar. As sweet as the rest of you.

As a peacekeeper he was forced into a certain mindset, one of orders and direction and plans. But you had twirled into his life and flipped it all upside down, throwing all his caution to the wind. The night you'd met at the Hob was ingrained in his eyes to dwell upon during a dull moment on patrol or as he was falling asleep at night, only topped by every second he'd spent with you since.

The Covey had fled after the Games, he'd been told, taking Lucy Gray with him. He'd been disappointed, understandably, but it wouldn't do him any good to dwell on the past. That had gotten him into enough trouble.

All rituals and worries of the Capitol were tossed to the wind. They had no place here, in the rural nature of District Twelve. Sure, there were rules and regulations, but they required no masks or games. Here there was only hard work.

He'd hardened considerably between the moment he'd been informed of his new service on, adapting a new protective shell. The one he'd built in the Capitol would do no good.

But when he began to see you, he could feel it soften.

You with your diamond eyes and smile like warm sunshine, you who entered his life like a rainbow after a storm. You who brightened the dreary scenery of District Twelve and lightened his mood so much he was worried he'd swapped personalities. The second he'd seen you dancing at the Hob he'd known you'd change his life forever. And so, he let you.

In the time that followed you became a fixture in his life that he wouldn't trade for anything. You made him better, he was convinced. With every sweet word that fell from your lips and sweet kiss you gave him he fell more madly, deeply in love than he'd known himself capable. You were a drug tailored to his tastes; a delightful aphrodisiac sent by a higher power. He never wanted to get sober.

Still, a secret thought had made itself known the second he realized his feelings for you. You're not good enough for her.

Coriolanus was a Peacekeeper drafted after a stint cheating in government sponsored murder. You were a sweet country girl, an angel in the midst of the dirt and grime of the lowest district. Never had there been a more mismatched pair.

Even now as he sat in the wildflower field you'd shown him a week into knowing him, holding you between his arms and breathing in the sweet scent of your hair, he knew he was on borrowed time.

You were cradled between his legs, back against his chest as he fingered a strand of your hair. Your adorable obsession with flowers was evident as you flicked the stems between your fingers. You'd given him a few of your findings, and he'd stuck them all in your hair, feeling unworthy of your treasures.

He kissed your hair gently, nose bumping one of the daisies. You were humming and watching the fluffy clouds in the sky; where you truly belonged in his opinion. "Are you comfortable, sweetheart?"

Turning your eyes like shining jewels to his blue ones, you nodded, looking the very picture of happiness. "You're a very good pillow."

"Ah, is that all I am to you?" he teased, the doubtful thoughts leaving him for a moment.

"No, but you're a very good one," you giggled, turning around to nuzzle into his chest. He fixed the flowers that fell from your locks as you did, gently smoothing them.

His heart grew heavy the more he looked at you. Your bright eyes and beautiful smile felt unattainable as time went on, even though you were here with him. Coriolanus had tried, but he hadn't been enough for you for even a second. What had previously been weight was now a crushing thing sitting atop him.

It came out before he could control it. "I can't see you anymore."

Time seemed to freeze as you sat up, turning around to face him. You were sitting between his legs still, the grass tickling your knees. One of the wildflowers behind your ear descended to the earth, bouncing once as it hit the dirt. Your voice was small. "What?"

Right then he could have just said he was kidding, that he hadn't meant it, and gone back to holding you. But he didn't. his own self-loathing propelled him forward into a mistake. "We can't be together."

The shock in your eyes was awful, a thing he didn't want to ever see again. You looked down at the ground, hands gracing your forearms and seemingly trying to self-soothe. The amount of guilt he felt in that moment was terrible.

Seeing that he was serious, you drew back, turning your head so your hair fell over the front of your shoulder. He longed to reach out and touch it, smooth it back, but he knew that privilege had been revoked. Finally, you lifted your eyes. "Why?"

The question was asked so meekly that Coriolanus felt guilt fester in his chest. He tried to keep his face even, unchanging. "I'm...I'm not good for you, sweetheart. You deserve someone better." Each word was wrenched from his mouth. He didn't want you to be with another man. The thought alone sent his mind into fits of jealousy. But he forced himself to continue. "Somebody will treat you better."

"No," you shook your head passionately, another flower meeting its demise in the grass. "I don't want somebody else. I want you."

He was nearly helpless to you. Coriolanus didn't want to deny you a single thing. But he had to let you go. Standing up and taking a few steps away, he hardened his tone slightly. "This is what's best for you."

"No!" You scrambled to your feet, hurrying after him and tugging on his arm. Oh this was becoming painful. "Please Coryo...please don't do this. I want you. I want to be with you."

Coriolanus tried to look away, but you were too magnetic. He couldn't resist reaching out, cupping your cheek in his palm. "I love you. And it's going to ruin your life."

"No-" the word was choked as it slipped past your lips. He could see your eyes welling up, his heart breaking at the sight.

Rubbing your cheek with his thumb, he clenched his jaw. "This is for the best. Don't cry."

But one teardrop like crystal escaped, rolling down your cheek. He remembered his thought from earlier, and was tempted to brush the tear away and lift it to his lips; see if it was as alike to clear honey as he thought it would be. Despite his mind's insistence, he resisted. If there was anything he had gained from his Peacekeeper training it was discipline.

So, taking in one last look at you, the sunset giving you an angelic outline as the final flower slipped from your hair, a single tear track on your cheek, Coriolanus gave your face one last caress and turned, briskly leaving the field.

Coriolanus hadn't realized how slow and merciless time was without the comfort or notion of his girl.

Every day was a twin to its previous and next, creating an unbearable mass of time that overwhelmed him. Even more so was the knowledge that all his days in the future would be inevitably added to it, and then before he knew it he'd be old and gray and despondent, dreaming of the angel he'd let slip between his fingers.

You haunted him day and night, and he saw you everywhere without really doing so. The stars spelled your name, the breeze whispered it, and every flower he came across was you. All he wanted was to abandon his post and run to your little cottage and kiss you senseless, tell you how sorry and stupid he was.

Every thought he'd had before about him being too dangerous felt silly. When a man had someone so good in front of him, he wasn't supposed to force it away. He was supposed to treat it the best he could. And he hadn't. He'd broken your delicate heart, cut it into ribbons like the ones you wore in your hair.

Having to see you in his dreams was a fresh torture. His unconscious mind would imagine he'd come to you, and you'd welcome him back with open arms; tell you how much you loved him and missed him. And then he'd say he'd never let you go again and this time it would be true.

And then just as you were about to kiss him, he would be yanked from his dream and thrust back into the cold barracks, listening to the snoring of his roommates. Whenever he tried to close his eyes and find the dream again it never worked.

Coriolanus kept his blue eyes peeled for you when he was on patrols, grip loosening on his gun whenever he saw someone with even the same length of hair. It was agonizing, thinking he had a glimpse and it turning out to be nothing. He hoped that if he did see you it wouldn't be in the arms of another man, though that was what he'd originally told you he wanted. Unfortunately, what he said, and thought were two separate things.

Finally, one day when rain drizzled dully from the grey sky, he spotted you walking with your shoulders hunched, arms folded over yourself. He nearly did a double take- he may have been far away but you looked nothing like the girl in the meadow that day.

The wet of your hair and dimness of your skin could be accounted to the rain, but it was the look on your face that got him. Your lips were drawn down, eyes somber even from where he was standing. Nothing like the embodiment of sunshine he once knew.

Coriolanus was sorely tempted to drop his gun, throw off his helmet and go to you. But his mind stopped him, those same old insecurities creeping in. Maybe when he'd been a student at the Academy; poor but with a bright future, he'd have found himself deserving. But he was still a Peacekeeper with no future save for the long days of patrols and rules ahead. There was nothing to offer you- the love that put anything he thought he had with Lucy Gray to shame.

Seeing you so miserable now though...it hurt. He knew he wasn't in much better shape.

As he roved over it for the rest of his shift, a realization dawned in him. You needed each other. You kept him grounded, kept him good. You were the hope and light he required to stay afloat in the storms of his life. And for whatever reason he didn't understand, you wanted him too. He'd been a fool to keep denying you what you wanted.

The second he'd returned his gun and changed from his uniform he was booking it. Out of the base, through the streets of town, trying to determine where it was you'd gone. He'd knocked on the wooden door of your cottage, but there was no answer, the windows dark. He asked around, but nobody had seen where you'd disappeared to.

With nowhere left to look, Coriolanus determined only one solution and went there as quickly as he could. His feet didn't carry him fast enough, his eyes didn't work the way he wanted them to. But it was all worth it when he finally spotted your silhouette, tiny in the distance, sitting under a lonely tree.

He approached cautiously, unsure if his arrival would upset you. Did you miss him? Did you even want to see him after the horrible mistake he'd made?

A branch snapped under his foot, and you whipped your head to face him, eyes wide. Coriolanus cringed at the sudden announcement of his arrival but decided to take it in stride. He watched you realize who it was.

Your lips parted, and a single word fell from your lips. "You."

He couldn't help his nod. "Me." You looked nearly frightened at his presence, which was the opposite of what he wanted. Hesitantly, he knelt beside you, lifting a hand to your cheek, fingers gently grazing the skin.

Tears sprung to your eyes the second he did, and you bit the side of your cheek. His heart broke in half. How he'd missed you. He missed the girl that would jump into his arms and snuggle up to his chest, giggling the whole time. He missed his sweetheart.

You sniffled, attempting to turn your head away, but he wouldn't let you. Bowing your head, you began to openly weep into the wildflowers, tears watering the blossoms. He brought his other hand to the corresponding cheek, holding your face up to look at him. "Angel..." he breathed. "Why're you crying, darling?"

"I'm sorry," you choked, chest shuddering as you looked up at him. "I'm so sorry."

Now he was confused. Coriolanus knew he was the one to hurt you. "What are you sorry for?"

"I wasn't good eno-ugh for yo-ou," you shakily got out, breath hitching every other word.

His heart dropped to his stomach, and he acted without thinking for a second, pulling you straight into his arms. "No...no, sweetheart. No, it wasn't you. I wasn't good enough for you."

"I know I'm just holding you back," you wept into his arms, body limp against him. "You could move up in rank, get transferred to a better district. Maybe you'd even be able to go home. And if you've got a girl here it'll just get in the way."

Coriolanus was in utter shock at your confession. This was really what you'd thought all this time? He needed to fix it. "No...no that isn't it at all...oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry..." Hating the sight of you crying, he tried to think. What would distract you? Looking to your knees, he noticed the absence of the little bouquet of wildflowers you usually had in your vicinity. Maybe if he tried something you liked you'd feel better?

Tilting your chin back up, he winced when he saw your watery eyes. His poor girl. Swallowing his hesitance, he rubbed your cheek, saying softly, "Would you do me a favor, my love?"

You nodded, a leftover tear slipping down your cheek. He brushed it away distractedly, focused on the task at hand. "Would you pick me some flowers? Can you do that for me?"

Doe eyes soft, you nodded once more, the usual sparkle in your eyes hiding behind your tears, but still, he could see it. You sat up straighter, brushing your cheeks once for any pearls of water that may have escaped again. He smiled softly as you shifted on the ground, looking around for the perfect flowers for him. It was touching how dedicated you were.

As your soft eyes surveyed and contemplated the flowers, soft hands plucking the stems, he felt a tiny smile break the cracks of his tough demeanor. You tended to have that effect on him, and now he was eager to embrace it. As you gathered flowers into a bouquet, he could see the girl he loved coming back to the surface. There she was. His sweetheart.

You presented the flowers to him hopefully, in a messy bouquet, and his smile split his face. "Pretty," he cooed, taking the bunch from you and delighting in the look in your eyes when he gave his approval. "Thank you, baby."

He carefully put the flowers in his pocket, careful not to crush any of the buds, and held out a hand to you. "Come here."

Easily, you shifted into his arms, soft head resting against his chest over his heart, just where he liked it. Once he had you cuddled against him again, like how he'd been missing for weeks, he whispered, "I'm sorry for leaving you."

Nuzzling your head against his pec, you blinked hazily up at him. "It's okay."

"No it's not," he corrected, plucking a daisy from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. "And I'll spend a long time making up for it, I imagine."

"I forgive you," you said sincerely, and he almost melted. "I love you."

The sunlight was no match for your adorable smile that reappeared like a rain after a drought. You looked up at him like he'd hung the moon in the sky.

And he'd strive to be that man for you.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he kissed your head and then your lips, more tenderly than he'd kissed anything. No, he wasn't worthy of your angelic presence, but you wanted him.

Who was he to deny you of the one thing he knew he was capable of giving?

[sturnioloshacker]

confession of love - a matt sturniolo short

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: angst, make out session, crying, matt being a sweetheart

summary: matt confesses his love for his best friend since seventh grade

in the dim light of a rainy boston evening, matt stood nervously in front of the quaint, empty park that him and his best friend y/n always go to. it’s been their favourite spot to hang out, eat food and just simply talk since they first met in seventh grade. 

it wasn’t until their junior year that matt knew he was falling for his best friend but always kept his feelings for her inside him as he was afraid of ruining his relationship with her. now in their senior year, matt had absolutely fallen truly, madly and deeply for his best friend. from her cute smile to her bubbly personality, matt had to let her know how really felt. 

so here he stands, under the dim streetlight, heart racing as he clutched a small bouquet of y/n’s favourite flowers. raindrops fell from the sky, making his clothes cling to his body. he mumbles the words he’s been wanting to say to her a hundred times in his head, but now, they felt heavy on his tongue. he had messaged her to meet him at their spot but he was left on read. 

maybe she was busy, maybe she went to reply but got distracted, maybe he scared her off with the message. tears pricked at his eyes as he hung his head low. she’s not coming, he thought as he started his walk back to the car. he goes to turn his back when he notices a figure approaching. y/n. 

matt turns back around, holding the flowers against his chest. he noticed the way y/n’s hair stuck to her face and the way her clothes clung to her. god, she is perfect! as she came closer, matt flashed his cheeky grin. she stopped in front of him and flashed her cheeky grin that made his heart stop. 

“matty, what are you doing out here in the rain?” she asked, slightly puzzled.

matt takes a deep breath before pouring his entire heart and soul to his best friend.

“y/n, there’s something i need to tell you. i just can’t hold it in any longer”.

tears form in matt’s eyes as he looks away. he draws in another deep breath before looking back at y/n. 

“from the first day of seventh grade, you have been my side through thick and thin. your bright personality has been able to make me come out of my shell more and it’s made me feel so much comfortable and happier around others and especially you”.

the rain slowly becomes heavier as matt takes y/n’s hands in his before continuing his confession.

“i honestly can’t imagine my life without you. you have made it so much better and easier and i can’t thank you enough. you are literally the centre of my universe, my world, my rock, my absolute everything”.

“matt, i-”

“i want to be more than friends. i want you to be mine so bad. so bad that it mentally, physically and emotionally hurts. i love you so much, will you please be mine?”

both matt and y/n are in tears, the feelings finally released after being held in for so long. matt looks into her eyes, waiting for an answer, an answer that he has been waiting for since the beginning of junior year. with a soft, trembling voice, y/n finally speaks.

“oh matty, the way i’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for so long. i fell in love with you from the moment we met but i got scared of ruining our friendship. now that you confessed to me, i want to confess something to you”.

she shuffles closer to him, their faces inches away from each other. 

“i love you matthew bernard, i’ll be yours forever and always”. 

she stands on her tippy toes, and in the pouring rain, they shared a passionate, electrifying kiss that sent shivers down their spines.

for that moment, the world faded away, leaving only the two of them standing in the rain, embracing their love as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

[absolutebl]

Hii do you have any recommendations for bl that’s similar to Bad Buddy, My School President, and Semantic Error? Idk I’m looking for something fluffy, but with some angst for flavor (also potentially school setting but it doesn’t have to be). Anyways thank you so much!! 💟💟

10 Fluffy Yet Angsty BLs + School Setting (By Request Rec List)

Examples: Bad Buddy, My School President, Semantic Error

Interesting selection. I added the "school setting" to keep me tailored down. Let's see what we got.

You'll never guess how we are gonna start...

Did ya guess?

Seven Days

Japan 2015 - grey

Never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

I Cannot Reach You

AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan 2023 - Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen. Full review.

Light On Me

Korea 2021 Viki

Korea does an elegant pastiche of traditional live action yaoi but all tropes are cleverly deployed to bolster one of the most riveting love triangles ever put on screen… and I don’t like love triangles. LoM strategically tailors classic BL tropes to 2 different semes resulting in pristine pacing, plot, and character development, explicitly serving narrative (not just to tick boxes). LoM is a master class in this trope drops. (If you write fanfic or romance you should study this show.) Full review.

Cherry Blossoms After Winter

Korea 2022 Viki

Korea took on early Japanese sweet yaoi but gave it their signature softness and precise production with a STUNNING color palette (beautiful pastels, sun-saturated over-exposure), manga framg style, some traditional BL character archetypes, that tiny edge of bullying roughness and out-of-control seme, plus FINALLY a palatable take on the stepbrothers trope and it was, in a word, classic. Sophisticated and understated CBAW is not slow, it’s just subtle. It's dream-like and atmospheric, as if the whole thing took place under cold water on a warm spring day. Is there plot or peril? Not really. Do we care? Also, not really. Look, I can’t help it, I’m old school and so is this show. I grew up reading sweet yaoi, and this was THAT YAOI just on my screen. There’s no objectivity with me and this show. It’s a beautiful pastiche and I loved it for how it made me feel and what it remded me of. It’s not flawless, but it is a wonderful experience. Full review.

Takara-kun and Amagi-kun

Japan 2022 Gaga and Viki

I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charmg: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes. Full review.

Blueming

Korea 2022 - iQIYI

It’s a tiny bit dark and a tiny bit bittersweet, almost too honest to a university experience and first love for BL, but if you want your md ever-so-slightly messed with and your intimacy hellishly sweet, this BL will do it for you in a coldly distant manner, while bitch slapping you with self worth issues. I wasn’t into it at first, but the leads are solid and by ep 5 it got really good, becomg a narrative about self discovery meets understanding and accepting others people’s flaws without hurting them. Ultimately we witnessed two characters maturing because of each other and their mutual affection, without that affection becomg the conflict point. Instead, tension was built around other aspects of identity, popularity, and self-worth. While production values were a touch lower than usual for Korea, Bluemg included decent kisses and other forms of intimacy and a satisfying ending plus there’s judicious and very elegant use of tropes, this is a great BL. Full review.

About Youth

Taiwan 2022 - Gaga

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit. Full review.

My Love Mix Up

AKA Kieta Hatsukoi

Japan 2021 - Viki

Completely adorable absolute chaos bi disaster muffin falls accidentally and utterly in love with his classmate, hijinx and friendship result. What’s great about this BL is that it deals with things like homophobia, asexuality, and one sided affection in an extremely gentle and palatable way. Perhaps sometimes too subtle, but I believe this is a great show for younger audiences, particularly if you want to spark conversations about identity, sexuality, authority, truthfulness, and consent. Oh and it’s funny.

The Eclipse

Thai 2022 - YouTube

GMMTV does gay Blacklist with a good boy/bad boy pairing. This is a good show but the cast is excellent and the leads are absolutely flawless, which elevates it beyond just good. We got a nuanced and multifaceted burgeoning relationship: philosophical (and socio-political) conflict contrasted to moments of empathy; flirtation contrasted to moments of genuine affection, plus plenty of angst. This narrative is less about love than it is about courage and tenderness. However, near the end the pacing was off and the plot frustrating. Still, this is an enjoyable watch, with a finale that features verbal consent and a fun blooper reel.

Destiny Seeker

Thai 2023 - WeTV

Frankly this probubly ranks along side most of hte runners up, but it's chronically under watched so I wanted to give it a special shout out.

A darn near perfect pulp featuring 3 likable grumpy/sunshine pairings with uncomplicated iterations of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s good chemistry, classic tropes, and communication rep. It’s fun and full of linguistic jokes. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. Full review.

Honorable mention

These satisfy your criteria but I jsut personally like the above 10 better. And you did ask me, still OPTIONS!

2gether & Still 2gether

A Breeze of Love

Between Us

Dark Blue Kiss (+ Kiss Me Again - PeteKao Cut)

Hidden Agenda

Love By Chance

Love Class

Love Class 2

SOTUS

Star in My Mind

TharnType

Theory of Love

Why R U? Thailand

Why R U? Korea

(source)

[moronkombat]

Hi hi hello how my new favorite person on Tumblr doing? 🌝

May I ask for some fluff/nsfw alphabet for Shang Tsung, please👉👈

Absolutely love all your content <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare may look a bit different than the conventional cradling embraces. Shang Tsung is more partial to observing the masterpiece he has created within you. He stands over you, that wry smirk seems so carved into him, and eyes scan over the mess you have become. He tells you this too, how beautiful you look and what a piece of art you are

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Shang Tsung's favorite feature is that witty smirk of his. He never wants to hide it and shows it off when certain little plans end in his favor. He wants others to know that he has won. Victories are his confidence and so he boasts them through taunting jeers

When it comes to his partner, Shang Tsung is enamored with their back, specifically the spine. How horribly divine it is to feel its ridges under the pad of a finger. Your grooves dip and bend as he traces them into your skin. It is an enchanting dream for him

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Truly depends on the mood and what he is wanting. However, he does have the rather wicked preference on cumming atop his partner's skin. So sticky and wet you look coated in liquified pearls. He smirks and spreads it around your naval, into your cheeks and chest. Such a pretty portrait you are

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shang Tsung pleasures himself while watching his partner sleep. There is something just so exciting watching you unaware of his perversions. Never once does he touch you during this, simply observing you breath so lightly and unaware. He often finishes into his hand, watching his seed drip down the length of his fingers before he just so happens to let it drip drip drop onto your skin

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He never truly lets his partner know the level of experience possessed. Shang Tsung prefers to keep it vague and guessing. In truth he has experience but not too much to flaunt. He has enjoyed sex enough to learn what he prefers but also what another likes too

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Shang Tsung has a few preferences. Mainly he prefers his partner on top regularly or reverse and when you are on your side one leg hiked into the air. Likes to change positions frequently during sex with his partner

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn't call sex serious when with Shang Tsung but it is not humorous either. It is more of a teasing experience with him laying languid taunts to his parent and laughing at their reactions to his touch

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Exceptionally groomed and completely shaven. He finds it bothersome not to keep himself clean there and so he always makes it a point to remove any hair hidden under clothing

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Largely depends on the mood of moment. Shang Tsung largely prefers teasing experiences but let's say he is truly madly deeply in love with his partner, then he will make it romantic. If he is more obsessed with his partner the romance is a bit more warped and twisted

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yes but infrequently. When he is feeling the urge, Shang Tsung merely seeks his parent out to sate his needs. If his partner is unavailable then he may engage but it is not very often. He typically has his ways of convincing his lover into the bedroom

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Restraints- Cannot get enough of using restraints during sex. Loves to tie his partner up in all the different ways he can. There is power and control when he pulls those bindings so tight. There is so escape unless he grants it and that is quite the treat

Leather- Shang Tsung adores leather and wants to use it on his partner and himself. He is very fond of the feeling of leather on his skin and he is even more entranced by the marks it leaves on yours

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

On a desk or another hard surface. He likes to indulge in his partner when he works on his research. It makes him feel even more powerful knowing he takes you in the same place he dominates the field of research. He also likes when his partner is suspended in the air with ropes and chains

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Shang Tsung is turned on by many things but he is most aroused by his partner's curves and hips. He wants to watch those hips sway and move. Predatory eyes watch you go and his head will turn to enjoy the show while you pass by. This hunter is quick to stalk his prey before he pounces and consumes

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A big no for him is his partner hitting him in the bedroom. Shang Tsung has taken beatings throughout his life and to be struck brings up those memories and has him feeling rather pitiful

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Has no real preference over one or the other. Both give him a sense of power and control so it largely depends on how he feels like expressing that control and what will amuse him the most

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sex can vary from very fast and rough to very slow and taunting. Shang Tsung prefers to take his time with his partner. He wants them thoroughly used and satisfied. If you're going into the bedroom with him, expect to be there for awhile and to say your prayers because Shang Tsung loves to tease

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't mind them and will engage in them at times. However, like stated previously, he enjoys taking his time with his partner and a quickie does not allow for that

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is anything but vanilla. He is always wanting to experiment with his partner. New positions, new kinks? He's up for them. He enjoys knowledge and knowledge includes bedroom practices. He's more than eager to try out all his finding on his partner. He makes sure they both have a grand time

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shang Tsung doesn't have a time limit and will go until he and his partner are sated. While he may not be the most athletically built, his endurance is not something to be trifled with

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Shang Tsung owns a variety of toys but he does not use them on himself. They are rather exclusively for his partner and euphorically taunting you with them. He has quite the collection and is very keen on using them all on your body

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tends to be terribly unfair during sex. He finds the whines and cries of his partner so very pleasant and so he will be sure to tease them relentless. It does not last forever, he still wants his partner to experience the greatness he is feeling. Still, his partner's reactions under his control provides no greater high

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Relatively quiet save for dirty whispers and chuckling. It is not often that he vocalizes his own pleasure. He would much rather hear yours

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

An avid fan of dirty talk and degradation. He will call you pathetic when you whine. But it is not an insult. Shang Tsung poses them as compliments

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His build is lean and toned. Muscles are not chiseled but they are defined if you were to feel them. He is more of a grower than a shower, with him presenting rather long when in the heat of the moment

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than average when in a relationship with a partner. When single, it is rather low as he does not pay attention to those urges. When with a partner, however, he craves them carnally daily

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Is usually pretty tired after sex but will never fall asleep before his partner no matter how exhausted he is. He will wait until you do first and then follow

[eydi-andrius]

His Point of View (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

A Sequel to Side Characters End Up Alone

a/n: I'm really sorry that it took a while but I feel much better now to write for angst. I hope this is worth the wait. Thank you lovelies! Again, I appreciate likes but comments and reblogs makes me feel well-loved.

cw/tw: pure angst, unrequited love, pov of the person who was confessed to, from love to despise, probably unexpected pov but I gotta write it, may upset some audience but I have been thinking of this as canon in this story

divider: @/cafekitsune

summary: Gojo knew how precious you are in his life. You are his greatest confidant, his other half and someone to whom he can never live without. However, no one ever told him how to handle a situation wherein his childhood best friend is truly madly deeply in love with him but he only sees her as his friend

The once cute white squared beads of letters that used to spell his name and yours, sewn together as proof of your long lasting friendship, was now across the floor of the dim parking lot.

He could barely see some of it. The place was illuminated by the yellow, almost dying light of the old light post. It buzzes and flickers as it does its best to give light. The dim colour makes his head hurt more. It was already throbbing when you went to pick him up, but after running after you, the feeling intensified, like splitting his head in half.

However, the blur in his eyes from the pain did not mask how worn out those beads were. He can see the first letter of your name, rolled near his shoe. He bent down to pick it up and raised it, to see clearly on the only source of light. It looks old, yes, but it is well-kept, polished even. As if someone had smoothened it for years…..because she cares and truly treasures this childish gift he gave to her once upon a time.

Gojo closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Long ago, when you confessed to him, he didn't know what to do. There were only two of you behind the school, you were fidgeting, scared and a pale mess, as you shared your heart out to him. Confessing the supposed to be beautiful truth, but at that moment, can either create something new or break something perfect, that you both had established together for a long time.

Surprised, unprepared and confused, all he did was stare at you, mouth agape. His world stopped, not expecting that you feel that way towards him. How…No one ever told him what to do at this moment. He felt trapped and his mind was swirling, trying to think of the best words to reply, the best course of action to do when your childhood best friend confesses to you. He was overloading and for a long time was just wide-eyed staring at you.

Probably, when you realised he wasn't going to reply, you felt embarrassed and humiliated so you chose to run away from him. During that time, Gojo found that his voice was working as he called out to your small frame, slowly vanishing from view.

You two did not talk about it until after three days. After he had a conversation with Geto. He helped him realise his feelings, for he thinks Geto was really wise for his age. And he is wise and provided good advice. He made Gojo feel confident enough to share his true feelings to you and that was him loving you as his precious friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Gojo wished that at that time he realises that Geto was just the same age as him, and no amount of good advice will come from a person whose life experience were in equal to him. If he knew right there and then, he would have let the friendship go and freed you of the burden of loving him. In that way, you would have been happy. In that way, you probably would have found someone to whom you deserve. Someone who will love you, more than you loved him.

But he was young, foolish and scared about the what ifs. What if you were the best he could ever have in this lifetime. If he lets you go, what if he will never have you anymore? He was scared to be alone. A selfish brat.

And so like a fool, when you pleadingly asked to keep the friendship, he agreed and continued acting the same.

It worked out for a while, until he started having feelings for other girls. Your eyes. God! Your eyes cannot lie at all, it screams your feelings like an open book being read out loud. Doe-eyes stares at him, openly hurting and in pain. It made him go crazy, insane even, affecting his relationships and becoming a toxic partner to some.

Of course, those weren't your fault. It was his. That was his relationship, not yours. However, there was a slitter in his gut, he used to ignore it, until its ugly head showed its face and he openly hated you for destroying his connections.

He was resentful and he admits, he does things to see you suffer. You did that to him!

Of course he knew he was wrong and stupid but he cannot stop the feeling of pure hatred every time beautiful things were ruined in his life because you existed.

You were his blessing but he made you his curse.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the dark sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen but a lone star twinkles beautifully, claiming the sky for itself. His blue orbs twinkled as he stared at it.

He cannot help but smile. It was a true smile. A smile of someone who was relieved. Of someone with a thorn in his chest for years, finally plucked out, relieved of the pain. Finally, your curse was over. The curse he implanted by his side was over.

If someone hears his thoughts tonight, they will probably hate him. But he doesn't care about them.

He was just so happy that now ... .now it was finally over.

He loves you, he cares about you but he cannot deal with your hurt anymore. None of your hurt was his fault. He was torturing himself for years and now, it was truly done.

Feeling the hot tear running down his face, he laughed. It was full of mirth. He is thankful, grateful even.

He wishes you the best as he clutches the only bead he picked up, close to his chest.

He treasures you but he also treasures the distance you now gave him. He cannot wait to finally start his life over.