friends-to-lovers

It is a great joy to love and be loved.

Just because he__ a guy doesn__ mean he and I can__ be just friends._ __nd just because you don__ have to insert batteries into him doesn__ mean you can__ be more.

As my muscles marginally relax, the tension flicks from anger to fevered desire. I want to tear each wisp of clothing off her and tie her to this f**king desk. I__l know next time, to bring my satin ribbon.

Say yes. Open your eyes, see that it's me, and say yes.

Oh God, this is my fantasy! Where those just-friend boys suddenly realize they lov

Men know that most women want to have an emotional connection with someone before they sleep with them. Men know that a lot of women think it's romantic to be friends first, and then the friendship blossoms into a relationship. Men know that they have to jump through all these hoops first, before they can get laid. And that's really all romance and courtship is to a man: hoops he has to jump through to get laid.

There are people in my life who count more than playing soccer in Serie A

reining yourself in because why ruin a good thing? why make it weird? and then you say goodbye, with a hug, with a snarky remark, and head home. you climb into bed and imagine them with you. you think about how their hair falls in their face, about how they breathe when they sleep. you think about them waking up and nudging you into consciousness with soft kisses down your torso. you sit in bed and think of all the ways you could make their soul dance. how you know their quirks and it all feels so right, but why? why is this happening? why can__ you just be content with what you have now? except even now you have to control the urge to kiss them, even though it is in your nature, even just on the cheek, because what if it breaks the relationship apart at the seams? you may not even mean it sexually or romantically, but what if? and there__ always the chance they have felt this way too. but it__ only a chance. and why risk it? so you lay there in bed and twist the sheets around your legs and text them back about another person they have feelings toward and coax them into something healthy. you put their happiness before your own. you watch as they stumble and help them rise mightily. you gush over them and try to snuff out the selfishness that builds whenever you see them with someone else. it wouldn__ be fair to them to impose your own wants on them and take away a good friendship. it isn__ always about you. and yet here you are, writing this. writing this and thinking of someone specific the entire time.

There. Let the gods of friendship and common sense strike him dead.

Alas! I thought I had only a friendship for you, but the grief I now feel convinces me, that I cannot live without you.

Never hesitate to let the one you love know how you feel. Align your minds, synchronise your hearts and above be fearless when dancing with their souls.

Open your eyes, baby. Look at me._ He pressed his forehead down to meet mine, my eyelids fluttering open at his command. __ook at me and tell me you don__ want it.__ peered up at him with unsteady breaths, hearing his throat work when I tilted my lips to graze his. The contact was feather light, my heart hammering through my chest at the feel of it. ____ looking,_ I breathed against him.__ood. Because right now, all I want to do is rip your clothes off and make you come until you can__ stand, and I want your eyes on me the whole time, are we clear?_-Jackson and Emma

Jemima Jane Erickson was one drunken pass away from jumping Ethan Weston's bones. He just didn't know it.

You think I need an orgasm to enjoy sex?_ she demanded. __hat are you, like fifteen?_ She eyed him in disgust. __ can get my own orgasms just fine. Last night was not about me getting off. It was about comfort and solace. About helping you to forget for a while.__than blinked as the full magnitude of her words pelted him like shrapnel. __h my God. It was a pity fuck?

JJ glared at his slumbering frame. Long legs, lethal in denim, his button fly already enticingly popped, abdomen all ridged and naked, begging for a finger or a tongue to discover the hills and valleys, dark shaggy hair spread around his head like a freaking halo on her pillow. Well too damn bad for this broken-down angel. She was the one who__ worked her ass off until two am. Not him. And she wanted her bed back.

All that existed was the blinding imperative to not think, to leave it all behind. To have it all fade to black in the throes of a truly good orgasm. To thrust and rock and pound until he came long and hard. To reach the pinnacle as fast as he could, to leap off the edge and truly leave all his earth-bound worries behind.He was a cave man. He was a Neanderthal. He was fucking Cro-Magnon.

She broke my heart over and over, day after day, but I love her.

He stopped breathing, literally stopped breathing for several seconds. His brain hadstopped working as soon as she had unzipped his jeans. His heart was going intooverdrive because somewhere in the last few minutes, it had forgotten how to beat inregular intervals. And now his lungs were giving in, blatantly refusing to take in anyair. It was like every organ was confused and electrified by the sensations poundingthrough his body; like they were all shouting: __ey, what__ going on down there,Penis?__ut Penis was too wrapped up in Danny__ mouth to respond so they all just continuedto malfunction.