#the yearniiiing

[justbrothings]

Concept: a family with three brothers, the older two are a bit closer in age to each other and have this complicated codependent incestuous hate-love relationship going on, they are either bitterly fighting or deeply in love at any given time; any chance they get they either beat the shit out of each other or make out passionately

But that is strictly between those two: they treat their little brother completely normal and see him as nothing but a sometimes annoying younger sibling; absolutely nothing romantic or homoerotic going on between them and him

Meanwhile the younger brother is deeply and desperately in unrequited love with them, pining his fucking heart out (and probably catches them at some point together and then has to pretend nothing is wrong while the jealousy is eating him up)

[sari-stars]

The yearniiiing :(

[fangswbenefits]

i tried blacklisting his name and tags and blo k all the blogs w him but MY HEART WAS YEARNIIIING so i came back and then u absolutely DESTROYED me again

Just give in, friend...... Astarion deserves all the love and attention 🤭🫂🩷

[lavendertales-recs]

what do you pour into these?? because I can’t stop thinking about them and THE YEARNIIIING 😩🙈

Also the way you write Santi is just mind blowing.

I was thinking 'I've never done this before 'and possibly anal. I literally envision his face like the gif because he wants to make it so good for you and he's so turned on you want to try it and trust him enough to do that for you

awww thank you <33 it makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing, and yes, that's the exact face he would make, excellent gif usage

prompt list: #51 “i've never done this before”

trust me

pairing: santiago "pope" garcia x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 0.7k

summary: You trust Santi enough to want to try something new.

warnings: established relationship, first time anal fingering, brief piv at the beginning, praise

MLISTS .  LIBRARY.

You find it easy to be bare and vulnerable in front of Santiago, for the most part at least. 

He grunts and pushes deeper, his cock hitting deeper than it ever has before. His hands feel large on your ass, he pulls your cheeks apart, and you moan at the amplified feeling of the drag of his cock. You claw at the sheets and scream his name into the pillow. You hear the smile in his voice. 

“You’re doing so good for me,” he groans. “Fucking perfect.” 

A wet sound follows —you imagine him sucking on his fingers, another moan ripples through you— and you feel the wet pad of his thumb on your puckered hole. You jump with surprise and clench around him. Santiago hisses and his hips stutter forward. 

“Sorry sorry,” he says sheepishly. “Should've warned you. My bad,” 

You breathe heavily. Sweat uncomfortably clings to your skin as slick drips down your thighs, you’re still in the depths of your arousal. It’s not that you didn’t like it, or thought about it, but you never trusted anyone enough to try it out with. It was completely unknown to you, the area not even touched by yourself. When you let out a sigh it comes out in parts, your chest heaves. You feel his hands stroking up your back, soon his lips touch between your shoulder blades, and a pleasant tingle rushes up your spine. 

“Sorry,” he mutters again, the apology seeping into your skin. 

“It’s—It’s not like it didn’t feel good. It’s just well—” a burst of nervous laughter drops from your lips. Santiago waits patiently for your words, decorating your back with soft kisses. “I’ve never done it before. I’m a bit nervous,” 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he says. “But if you do, I promise to make it feel good for you,” 

“Y–Yeah okay,” you nod. “I trust you.” 

The way you said it; your voice so soft and trembling, it makes something awaken in Santiago. The sudden need to protect you from the world overwhelms him. He wants to make you feel good, wants to show you all the ways you can feel pleasure. You trust him in a way that no one has before. His head spins at the thought. 

He pulls out — playfully slapping the meat of your ass when you whine at the loss— and he opens one of the drawers and rummages through it. He finds a small bottle of lube. The bed dips underneath his weight as he crawls back to you, your ass is still obediently in the air, waiting for him. 

“I’ll start with my fingers,” he says softly. “Tell me when you need to stop okay?” 

“Okay, yeah,” 

His cock weeps as he pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. Placing the bottle, he brushes his fingers against it, you take a sharp inhale and tense. He smoothes his hand over the small of your back, this calms you. 

“Relax baby, I’m going to go slow,” 

You nod and he slowly pushes the tip of his forefinger, he watches wide-eyed as you ripple and moan. Precum drips down the length of his cock. He swallows, hard. Santiago holds himself still until you gently start to fuck yourself till the first knuckle. You needily groan, he can feel the heat radiating off of you. 

“More—” you choke on air. “Feels so good,” 

Santiago pushes all the way to the second knuckle and wiggles his finger, your jaw tightens. The sounds you make are animalistic, desperate almost. You’re a whimpering mess by the time he starts to thrust his finger in and out, your legs spread and he adds another finger. 

You see spots hovering across your sight when Santiago snakes his arm around your waist and starts to draw short, quick circles around your clit. Your skin is damp, heat and pleasure coursing through your veins as you feel his fingers deep inside you. 

When you come it’s the most intense feeling, your body collapses, and trembles. Santiago pulls out his fingers, his lips find the side of your chin, and his teeth gently nip at the skin. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” he says, voice hoarse. “You did very good for me.” 

You hum, a smile blossoming on your lips. He says something else but you can’t hear him as sleep makes your eyelids heavy. 

When you wake up you’re clean, wrapped in a cozy blanket with Santiago’s chest flushed against your back. 

[veiligplekje]

[mooosicaldreamz]

noir au has taken over my mind. everything is so well crafted and put together. and the thirst and the yearniiiing asdfghjjdksfj

I can't wait to see where it goes!!!

thank you! i am glad you like it. sorry for the delay between chapters, but it’s coming hopefully soon!

[trans-snart]

corden could NEVER

why does James Corden keep getting the roles that Samuel Barnett deserves

he was always the weakest link of the history boys and we all know it

[deartrashcan]

OTPS AND NOTPS

I was tagged by @biggaybrad​ thank you so much!

OTPS

Brad x Ray (Generation Kill) - MORE LIKE IDIOTS TO LOVERS, ok I’m gonna talk a lot about this... Brad and Ray have such a wonderful dynamic, they’re the kind of friends that just know everything about each other and can make fun of some very deep shit knowing the other one is not going to get mad, BUT they care about each other so muuuuch, they know exactly when not to cross boundaries. THEY JUST KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL OK???? and those looks? c’mon Brad, pure sexual tension right there. AND THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE JESUS CHRIST

Brad x Nate (Generation Kill) - perfect silent communication and the admiration and respect they have for each other is amazing

Richie x Eddie (IT) - it’s all about the yearniiiing, they have the perfect ‘we were in love as kids but didn’t see each other for years and thought there were no feelings there but when we saw each other again it was like falling in love all over again’ trope

NOTPS

Rey x Kylo (Star Wars) - NO. Just... no. Why would they do this? The reinforced my opinion, movies SHOULD have female and male characters that are just FRIENDS. There was no romantic chemistry there, at all. Sure they bonded with each other, they had a deep connection, but it was definitely not a romantic one. Midge x Joel (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel) - Ok so, first, Joel is an asshole, I’m SORRY. But he is, and even if he redeems himself, they shouldn’t be together. Well, I’m not going to deny that they make a great team, they do care about each other but their egos crash everytime they get together. They can’t work as a couple.

Tagging: @sunsetmando @johnmarston @mushroom-vibes-ofc @captainwhatsmyusername @bedwardbound @morsabalt0 @thissying @daniard0r @richiesleatherjacket @punkgeekchic @ableedingpen

[twinheroes]

WHEN CHROM LOOKS BACK AT ROBIN WITH THAT SMILE OF WE DID IT DURING THE OP SCENE

FuckkKK ONE MINUTE INTO FE: A REPLAY AND IMM ALREADY YEARNIIIING

[lavendertales]

GOD THE YEARNIIIING

This was so wonderful!!!

soaked

matt murdock x reader

prompt: helping each other out of wet clothes, from this affections prompt list

warnings: partial nudity, first kiss nerves, sexual tension, gn!reader (no pronouns or body description), religious/prayerful imagery because it’s our favorite catholic boy himself

Matt hears you coming from a block away. The rapid thumps of your footsteps on the sidewalk, the drips of water falling from your clothes, the self-deprecating laughter under your breath as you run through the rain. Murmuring to yourself about how Murdock better be home. He throws on shoes and doesn’t bother to grab his sunglasses before heading out the door to meet you in front of his building.

“Matt!” you call in surprise, nearly running into him on the steps. There’s no overhang so the rain cascading down begins to drench him, too. You push at his chest with breathless laughter. “Go! Go, get inside.”

He laughs with you, stepping aside to close the door and already reaching to carry your bags. His hands close around yours and you nearly gasp at the warm touch, the first since the skies opened up. But you couldn’t stay melting in his touch forever so you pull away and smooth out your coat.

“Sorry to barge in, I just—”

“Got caught in the rain? With no umbrella?” he interrupts with a smirk. “Ruined your takeout, it smells like.”

You shrug sheepishly, knowing he can tell. He always can. “Then maybe it’s lucky I have a friend who lives in the building I stumbled into?”

Once safely inside his apartment, you make a fuss about how you’re getting the floors wet with all the rain you brought inside. Matt waves it off, herding you into the bedroom and pulling out dry clothes for you. Giant Columbia shirt and sweats — your favorite.

But getting out of your soaked clothes proves to be difficult. You groan, straining to pull at the layers.

Matt chuckles. “Whoa, hey, lemme help.”

You huff playfully, surrendering to his strong hands and the way they deftly slip the coat off your shoulders. But then he steps close to push it further down, his arms nearly encircling you by the time you let it drop from your wrists.

You can’t breathe, taking in Matt’s unfocused eyes and the way his stubbled cheek is so close to yours. His fingers brush your hips on the way back up but then pause, and only at his hesitation do you move again — gently bringing his hands the final few inches to rest on your shirt buttons. His lips set in a reverent line, heart thundering nearly as loud as yours in his finely-tuned ears.

He works open a few buttons to below your chest, goosebumps blossoming with it, and then his fingers follow yours to the hem of the shirt. He skims a warm touch along your ribs as he lifts the shirt over your head, his mouth twitching a smile when you squirm. But he quickly sobers again when you let him graze his palms down your damp arms.

“Still cold?” he murmurs.

“Not too bad.”

In reality, you were burning.

Your quickening pulse calls to him when he finds the button and zipper on your jeans, delicately opening both. But it’s when he slowly starts sinking to his knees that the fire in your belly explodes. You open your mouth to call his name but no words come out.

“I’m here.” The whisper of his breath fans over your skin.

He’s on his knees, gazing up into the heaven of your face, palms reverently pressing into your hips. You can’t help but to gently card your fingers through the tuft of his hair, and only when you nod does he start pulling at your jeans. Down your hips, down your thighs, pooling to a spot where you can easily step out of them as if your legs aren’t about to collapse.

He steadies you with his hands behind your knees, feeling the tremble of your muscles, and you shiver. He’s stiflingly close despite being far away from your face. Like tracing an ancient carving, your fingertips graze his cheekbone and around his jaw, pulling a grin to his lips as his eyes flutter shut.

Even with his eyes closed, even being blind, he can see all of you. But being nearly bare before him has never felt so right.

A sigh escapes from him or you or both and then he leans forward and kisses the top of your bare thigh. With penance complete he rises from his knees, bringing the warm and dry t-shirt with him, and helps you slip it over your head.

Before he can hand you the sweatpants, you gingerly run a hand up the sleeve of his shirt where it’s still speckled with raindrops. “Looks like you didn’t escape it either.”

He smiles softly. “Somebody had to run out there to save you.”

It’s your turn now, letting him lead your hands to the edge of his shirt and pull it over his head. Your arms freeze there — you can’t move save for a breath shuddering out of your chest — and finally you let your palms rest on his bare shoulders, scars rippling underneath and all.

You’ve seen him shirtless before but never this close, and never as vulnerable as this. His mouth twitches again, flashing a comforting grin to calm both your nerves and his, and he closes his hands over yours. He slides them down to his chest to let your touch feel his heartbeat just like he always feels yours. Raising them to his lips, he barely kisses your knuckles before you’re unable to resist the tug in your heart and lean forward to kiss him.

He catches the kiss cleanly, having felt it the split second before you acted on your bubbling nerves, and smiles against your mouth. It’s over quickly but he leaves his forehead rested against yours while sliding his hands underneath your shirt to rub at your lower back. You breathe each other in, savoring the moment and everything that has led you here.

Matt finally gives a contented hum. “So do you still need dinner?”